“I apologize…” my mother said. The door was almost open enough to see Dana’s desk. I dropped to my knees, hoping that no one would walk by and see me spying.
“Whatever for?”
“I should have been stronger about this whole thing…” she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly. The door was finally open enough to see them. Dana was leaning against the front of his desk, one leg relaxed as he supported his weight on his hands. My mother was sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. While the angle did not allow me to see her face, I saw her legs and realized she was wearing the short black dress she had always said she was too embarrassed to wear in public.
I wondered who was trying to seduce whom.
“You were strong,” Dana said gently.
“It’s just…don’t get me wrong, I feel very privileged to be a part of the Commission of the People, but…since we joined, my family hasn’t been the same…”
“That’s to be expected,” Dana conceded. “You have been introduced to a world most would never even dream of. But…” he leaned closer and reached forward, touching her jaw as he smiled that smile that made everyone weak in the knees, “there is no need to be afraid of change. It’s natural…embrace it.”
The voice. The eyes. How did he know how to do that? How was it that even I could feel that power when it was not directed at me? It seemed to be a part of his presence, commanding the entire space around him, regardless of who he was directing his actions at.
“How long have you been down here, Dana?” my mother asked as he slowly pulled his hand away from her face. The action was delicate, fluid, and so perfectly timed that my mother leaned forward, trying to follow his fingers. He remained close, inviting her to close the gap between them.
“What do you mean?”
I was watching a perfectly choreographed dance, but one of the participants had been told to simply react to the other. It was a perfect set up. Dana knew exactly how to move, exactly how to speak and change his expression, knew which direction his eyes needed to shift and when to let the bottom of his teeth show in the softest smile…he knew what she wanted before she even realized it. He was dancing to her presence, weaving a net that led her to react to him as he wanted.
It was captivating to watch.
“You work in the Commission all the time…down here, out of the sunlight…” my mother reached forward, her hand trembling as she brushed her fingers over the hand resting on his leg. Their faces were so close…
“I have responsibilities,” Dana breathed, turning his hand so that their fingers continuously brushed one another, not intertwining or holding. “I cannot ignore them.”
My mother moved forward in her seat, her other hand pressing to the lapel of Dana’s suit.
“Must be stressful…” she whispered. “Shouldering all this responsibility…”
“We all have our stresses in life, Karen,” Dana said gently. “I feel that you have an extremely stressful job, raising Little Lily and trying to keep your household together…” He looked at her, his eyes changing. “How do you manage?”
“We do what we must…” she breathed, her voice sounding weak as her eyes locked with his. “We all have our way…of relieving stress…” Her hand moved up his lapel and to the back of his neck as her other hand closed around his lapel, his fingers drifting over her wrist.
“What about you, Mr. Christenson?” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire as she looked into his eyes. “How do you relieve your stress?”
He did not answer. He reached out with his other hand and took her chin, pulling her close and kissing her.
I felt my stomach flip, but another part of me was fascinated and intrigued. I wondered how Dana could so easily manipulate my mother, how he could change the conversation to make her say such things, how he was able to do this for everyone he had ever seduced in the Commission, even the men…
He pulled her out of the chair and continued to kiss her as her hands wrapped in his hair. After a few long kisses, when she had her body pressed flush to his, her hands drifted down his torso, unbuttoning the vest and pulling the shirt out from the waistband of his pants. He chuckled into the kiss and caught her hands, shaking his head.
“Oh no…”
“What?” she asked with a chuckle. He recaptured her mouth in his, pulling at his tie, releasing it from his neck, wrapping her wrists in his tie, smiling wickedly as she giggled.
“In this game, there are rules,” he grinned.
When her wrists were wrapped, he turned them both, lifting her to sit on the desk, his hands stealing up her thighs and into the short skirt of her dress as they kissed again, the action hungry and desperate.
It was when my mother hooked her legs around Dana’s hips and her bound hands rested behind his neck that I closed the door, feeling the tears spring to my eyes.
I scrambled to my feet, knowing I had to get out of the hallway so that no one randomly passing would see my breakdown. I darted to the conference room, pushing past Mark and quickly sitting, burying my head in my arms as the tears overcame me, pouring out of my eyes as the sobs thudded from my lungs.
I don’t know how long I was crying, though it could not have been long before there was a voice at the door.
“Oh, Lily…”
I looked up, blinking the tears from my eyes enough to see Clark moving toward me. What shocked me was that Mark was standing at the corner of the table, having stopped from walking to me.
Clark sat in the chair next to mine and pulled me into a hug. I broke down violently.
* *** *
That night, I finally got the courage to lift my mattress and look through the file of experiment four-eleven forty-one—my uncle’s file.
I had a nasty headache from all the crying. I had gone to my room right after dinner, taken two aspirin and slept for an hour before waking again. I felt better, but the headache was still very present. So, I went to Mykail’s room and told him through the bars of his door that I was not going to his room that night because I wanted to get rid of the headache. He told me he understood, gave me a quick kiss, and wished me goodnight.
But I had been unable to fall asleep again.
Finally, I climbed out of bed, grabbed the file I had stolen from Dana’s table, and sat on my floor, staring at the red stamp across the front for a few minutes before finally opening the folder again and beginning to read.
Subject #41141
Testing Start: October 8
Presiding: Dr. Sam Pullman
*The Commission of the People maintains the right to bring in all individuals who threaten the peace and security of the nation of America. Individuals who are residing illegally or harboring individuals who are in violation of the laws set by the Cabinet of the Leader will be brought into the Commission of the People. (The Code of the Commission of the People: 13-9, 20**).
Accounts for Charge:
-Harboring Illegal Residents
-Harboring Individuals Deemed Dangerous
-Assisting Criminals
-Anarchist Activities
-Risking the Safety and Security of the Nation of America
-Sedition
Name: William Kale Sandover
Height: 194 cm
Weight: 74.2 kg
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Race: Caucasian
Blood Type: AB-
The first three pages of the file were extensive medical and physical notes about my uncle, detailing every possible thing that could be thought of, so I skipped through, stopping on the forth page.
Call-in Capture – August 2, 20:00
Team Leader: Fred Bosworth
“The Commission of the People was called by the father of the suspect on the evening of July twenty-third. Upon further investigation, all allegations were found to be true. W. Sandover had been harboring illegal residents, homosexuals, and other dangerous individuals across the southern border. Evidence provided prove
d that the suspect had been the head of ‘The Coalition’ terrorist group. W. Sandover had been avoiding capture by the Commission for three years and his location was unknown at the time of the call-in.
“An anonymous tip led us to his location at the town of Prete at the southern border, where W. Sandover and seven other individuals of ‘The Coalition’ were found in a house, as well as seventeen Commission-marked criminals. Three of the individuals escaped the house, and W. Sandover was captured trying to hop the back fence of the property. The seven other individuals of ‘The Coalition’ included Peter B. West, Katherine K. Laughton, Stacy J. Venner, Loraine A. Rhyne, Brian T. Copperton, Jeffery M. Little, and Gregory T. Smithson. Laughton is pregnant with Sandover’s child. Her fate has yet to be decided.”
My heart tugged when I read the last part of the report. Even from the short recollection, I had so many complex emotions that I did not know what to feel. My uncle had been so against the Commission that he had formed “The Coalition” to harbor people over the border and get them out of the Commission’s grasp. I felt oddly proud, knowing he would approve of my rebellion against the Commission now.
However, the girl had been pregnant when she had been taken in by the Commission. Even without looking at the rest of the report I knew that that situation was going to end horribly.
I flipped the page.
Experiment Log: Day 1 – Dr. Sam Pullman
“41141 went through pre-test cleaning with no complications. For the living situation in which the subject was picked up, his health is astounding. The first test was administered with an unexpected response. S.I.D.-3 was administered at 16:17 and by 16:23, the subject was showing signs of intense pain and remained in such state for three hours before showing any signs of muscle relaxation.
“The test appeared to have failed. There were no changes in chemical or neurological reactions. The subsequent seven tests will be performed as scheduled, regardless.”
Experiment Log: Day 9 – Dr. Sam Pullman
“Experiment 41141 has shown no change as a result of Test S.I.D.-3. The subject has shown the same reaction to all seven tests, which resulted in muscle tension and pain for approximately three hours followed by a coma-like state. Upon waking, the subject appeared no different than before.
“Reports will be submitted to Mr. Bryant Morris before proceeding.”
I flipped through the following seven tests and, regardless of the tests they did on my uncle, nothing changed. His health deteriorated slightly and he got weaker, but he still remained completely human. I did not understand the tables under each entry, but by the confused commentary of the doctors, I could tell that they were completely baffled.
There were notes in the margins about the experiment’s outspoken attitude and how he continued to yell at the scientists and curse them until they had no choice but to gag him because he was too boisterous—even violent sometimes despite his failing health.
The accounts made me proud. Knowing I was from the same strong line that continued to fight the clutches of the Commission of the People was a relief. If I failed in my rebellion, at least I could continue to fight, because I had the same strength in me. Maybe I could even be immune to any tests Dana tried, and I could become the next legend among the experiments.
However, I remembered several other things about this experiment. He was the one who had killed Bryant Morris, only to give rise to Dana. He tried to defy the Commission, but still was killed, and now most experiments didn’t believe he had ever existed.
I closed the folder, wondering if I really wanted to know the full story behind what happened to my uncle, and wondering if it would mean anything for my own future.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I was going into the records room for the first time that Wednesday. Clark and I spent a lot of time figuring out how to do the research while keeping Dana in the dark. Since the leader of the Commission had a habit of popping in on us unannounced, it was not safe for both of us to be in the records room at the same time. However, we would research faster together, thus limiting the frequency of going into the records room.
We went to Dana’s upstairs office to look at his schedule.
He would return to the Commission at five from a meeting with Leader Simon, which meant we had two hours to research as much as we could together.
“Friday he’s gone the whole day,” Clark noticed. “He’ll be with Leader Simon again.” He pointed at the various meetings on Dana’s schedule. “We can’t risk both being in there tomorrow. What do you want to do?”
“I want to see what we can find today and then decide about Friday later,” I said.
Mark stationed himself outside the library as we set our things down at one of the tables. Clark went one way while I made my way to the secret door, carefully turning the one handle we had latched and shifting the bookshelf back, slipping inside and closing the passageway behind me. Clark was going to wander around to throw off anyone who was watching the security cameras and bring books to the table so that we could look busy when we finally did appear on the camera feeds again.
I nervously stepped down the dim hallway and opened the door at the end, pushing hard to move the filing cabinet attached to the secret door. I poked my head into the unfamiliar room, looking around. The room was plain, yet crowded. There were shelves around the room, each on top of three filing drawers with numbers written on the front panel. The upper shelves were crammed with binders marked with months and years.
Carefully stepping into the surprisingly cold room and pushing the file cabinet back into place, I tried to think clearly. I didn’t want to sneak in too often, but in order to be sure that we did not have to do so, I had to remember exactly what I needed to do there, accomplish my task, and leave quickly.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, counting to five before exhaling. I started forward, remembering the first experiments number.
80111.
It took me too long to find the drawer that held the file for the first experiment. After rounding the same row of shelves twice, trying to understand how the numbers were increasing and trying to find the drawer that would hold the file I wanted, getting very frustrated when I rounded the corner and the drawer was not the correct one, I finally turned to the next aisle, finding what I wanted.
The files within reminded me of my uncle’s file and my heart tightened in my chest. The files I was staring at were all for people who had families, people whose lives had been ripped from them as they were changed and morphed into something else.
I glanced at all the folders, telling myself to focus only on the experiments I had been told about rather than glance through all of them in my curiosity.
I pulled out the file for experiment 80111.
The first page was different from the first page in the file I had at home.
Experiment Summary
Status – Complete
Dr. Peter Jacobs
Number: 80111
Call Name: Tara
Cell #: 3-21 Ward: 3
Age: 15
Experiment Type: Stealth-Intelligence-Defense (S.I.D.)
Abilities: strength – 13, stealth – 8; high perception in dark, reverse adhesive skin
Eligibility: Low
Someone as young as fifteen could undergo these horrible experimentations? I could feel the hot tears of anger and disgust burning my eyes. I turned the page to the medical outline and, as I was flipping to get to the summary of why she was caught, Clark rounded the corner.
“Hey, we have about an hour before we should get out of here.”
“Okay.” I looked up at him and cleared my throat. “Can I just say that I hate this place?”
“Me, too,” he nodded, handing me a pen and some folded pieces of paper. “Write down their cell numbers so that we can find them on the blueprints.”
I took the offered objects. Since we had already decided which experiments each of us were going to look into, he went to find the files for t
hose experiments while I read about Tara’s capture.
She had been born to a lesbian couple and without a Child-Rearing License. When her family was called into the Commission, her mother tried to poison Tara to keep her out of the Commission, though she survived. One of her mothers had been killed when she turned a knife on the people trying to capture them. The other one bit through her tongue in the transport car and died before they got her to the holding cells, leaving Tara to face the horrors of the Commission alone.
Once I could, I wrote down Tara’s cell number, trying to keep my emotions in check as I moved onto the next experiment.
Experiment 80200 was a thirty-one year old woman named Sophia in Ward Four. She had a voice that could speak at silent and powerful frequencies that could cause painful vibrations and cause mechanical interference—even causing bleeding in the brain. She had killed her abusive husband and spent five months on the run, crossing region boundaries—which was when the Commission was called in. She was finally caught robbing a bank.
Experiment 80201 was a fifteen-year-old girl, also from Ward Four, named Alexandra who had been altered for incredible strength and reflexes, but her story made the tears that had been welling in my eyes finally fall. At thirteen, she had been sold into slavery in her home country of Spain and had been bought by a corporate tycoon in America. She lived with him illegally for a year before the man was called into the Commission on charges of corporate fraud, and Alexandra was seized in the process.
The final experiment I had time to look up was 80270—Maddy—from Ward Six, a twenty-three year old who had a secondary skin added to hers that could absorb liquid like a sponge. She had been a college student with no previous record before being found possessing top-secret documents and delivering them to a domestic terrorist group, though she claimed she had no idea what the documents were for.
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