"What in tarnation is going on here?"
The officer looked up in time to refrain from the sharp retort that was obviously on his lips. "Oh, Dr. Adams, it's crazy. It's been like this all morning. I don't know what it's all about. Something about one of the children throwing something against the wall."
"What's so unusual about that? They are children, after all."
"Yeah, I know, but the rumor is she threw it without ever touching it. It just flew across the room. They picked it up on the new video monitoring system."
"What video system? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, hadn't you heard? Dr. Chickowski had it installed a couple of days ago to monitor the children while they're unattended." His hand flew to his mouth. "Oops, I think that's supposed to be a secret. Please don't tell anyone I told you. I hear so much down here, it's sometimes difficult to keep it straight."
Just another perfect example of how much control I've lost on my project, Lionel thought. Monitoring units. Next, Chickowski will start bugging the commodes to be sure the children are "oneing" and "twoing" correctly. Then, it occurred to Lionel he was losing the point of what the guard had told him. Could one of the children have thrown something against the wall without touching it? Could it be possible?
Why of course, it was possible. There were plenty of stories of such occurrences though little, if any, evidence for them. Why not from a group of children that had cut through the red tape of being born from nine months to only nine weeks; had continued to develop at an unheard-of rate and had restructured the bell curve on all the IQ tests they had taken? The question was not was it possible, but instead, why had it taken so long for them to develop such skills? How do we know it's taken them this long? We just started to monitor them twenty-four hours a day. No telling how long such games had been going on or how long they could have continued unnoticed except for Chickowski's damned monitors.
The thought disturbed Lionel. While he still didn't appreciate Chickowski's constant meddling, he had to admit that on any other project, he'd have had similar monitoring units installed in the first week. If he had been doing his job as a responsible researcher, he'd have at least thought of twenty-four hour surveillance. The fact that the data from this project was coming from seven tiny Homo sapiens did not excuse him from doing a thorough job. It looked like he'd have a big apology to make to Dr. Chickowski.
Lionel returned his attention to the guard who appeared ready to pull either his hair out or all the wires of the switchboard.
He tapped the desk to get his attention. "Where are they meeting?"
"In the video display lab on the second floor," the guard answered without looking up.
Lionel rushed to the elevator, but when he noticed the throng of people waiting for it, he decided to take the stairs. The video display room was a part of Bio-Vita he was unfamiliar with, having walked by it on his way to the spectro room only a few times.
He was surprised to find security guards at the stairs, elevators and the door to the video lab. Even though the guards recognized him, Lionel was forced to show his ID badge to each guard in turn.
"What's all this about?"
"No idea. They just told me to guard this door and not to let anyone pass that wasn't on this list. You're on it, so you pass."
As the guard punched in the security code to the door, Lionel wondered: What would I have done if I hadn't been on the list? As he entered the lab, he noticed that Bio-Vita owned an incredible assortment of video equipment, most of which he had never seen. Video monitors that patrolled the entire parameter of Bio-Vita's grounds, as well as key areas throughout the building, took up one entire wall of the room. Sitting to one side of this wall was a table of additional monitors. Lionel glanced at them and noticed they covered each area the kids might frequent.
A technician looked from the video equipment he toyed with on his desk. "Hi, I'm Bugs. You must be Lionel. You're the only one left on the list. Your cohorts are in the back room looking at dirty movies."
"What?" Lionel asked, startled by the comment.
"Just kidding. We do happen to have quite a collection stashed in the archives, but don't tell anyone. It'd be my job if you did."
"Your secret is safe with me, Bugs. Bugs? That's an odd name."
"Nickname. Bugs Bunny is my idol. The only reason I'm in video production is from watching all the old Bugs Bunny cartoons while I was growing up. My father worked for the studio that produced them years ago. It was his job to copy them over to permanent videotape. You might say I grew up with a carrot in my mouth instead of a silver spoon. Come back some time when the heat is off, and I'll show you some of my favorites."
"Thanks for the offer. I might just do that." Lionel walked on through the lab to the room Bugs had indicated. As he entered, he noticed a cluster of people poring over a television screen. He was surprised to find Denise and Bridgette were in the middle of the group along with Chunk, Franklin, and Dr. Chickowski.
Lionel felt the familiar discomfort return at seeing Bridgette's bright face. He smiled at the two women while, at the same time, trying to maintain an air of detachment appropriate for a researcher.
"I understand one of the kids was caught playing a new game."
Chickowski turned in his chair at the comment. "Oh God, it's out already. I tell you, the security in this place is like a sieve. Less than twenty-four hours after something of this magnitude happens, everyone and his cousin know about it. Where did you hear about it?"
"I have my informed sources. I believe it was from one of the janitors," Lionel quipped. "Is this the famous video?"
"It sure is," Denise piped up. "Come look at it. It's amazing. Truly amazing."
Chunk backed the tape up without saying a word to Lionel. Since their meeting, Chunk had been more sullen than usual. Lionel pulled up a stool and studied the screen. The video had been taken in the children's ward where they slept. Each of the kids was in her bed, but no one had turned the lights out yet.
"Keep your eye on the upper right corner -- there, where Kristin and Mia are talking," Denise said pointing to the screen.
"Which one... "
"Kristin," Denise answered. At least, we think it's her. It's a little difficult to tell. I suppose it could even be one of the other kids, but she seemed to be concentrating on the object just prior to it moving. Look, here it comes."
The two children were sitting on the edge of their respective beds. Between them, against the wall, was a night table with a Mickey Mouse lamp. Suddenly Mickey started to tremble, as though a small earthquake was taking place. Lionel looked first at the lamp and then, at Kristin. It was true. She sat on the bed with her eyes staring at the lamp; her brow knitted. The lamp continued to quiver, and suddenly, it raised itself off of the table, hung suspended for a second or two and glided across the room.
When it reached the length of its cord, it paused for a moment, tugging like a dog at the end of a leash. The light winked out as the plug was pulled out of the wall. As it headed for the far wall of the room, the lamp picked up considerable speed. It appeared that Kristin realized too late the speed of the object and tried to pull it back. The lamp slowed slightly just before shattering into a dozen pieces against the wall.
"Damn," was all Lionel could muster.
"We found the lamp right where it had fallen. None of the kids offered an explanation," Bridgette said.
"Damn," Lionel repeated. "It's amazing. How in the world is this possible?"
"What I'd like to know is how many other powers haven't we discovered," Dr. Chickowski said. "I bet these little devils have a lot more tricks up their sleeves."
"What makes you say that?" Lionel asked.
"Well, for one thing, we only found this out by accident. If they had known we were monitoring them, we'd never have found out. No one came up and said, 'Look what I can do, mom.' If they're hiding this power of Kristin's, what else might they be hiding?"
"Well, as long as they don't discover
the monitors, we're in a good position to find out a lot more," Chunk responded, looking only at Dr. Chickowski. "Good work on having them installed."
Lionel felt his ears burn at the comment. He half expected to hear the question, why didn't you think of it, Lionel, but it never came. Instead, he heard Bugs cough politely behind them.
"Excuse me folks, but something just showed up on the monitor you might find interesting."
"God, what's next?" Franklin asked. "Flying around the room on a broomstick?"
They all rushed into the outer room to see what had happened. Bugs sat at the display of new monitors, a phone held to one ear. "Dr. Chickowski, your tech picked something up a few minutes ago on the units you have in your lab."
Lionel looked at Chickowski with a puzzled expression. "This is a backup set here. I have another set of videos in my lab. My techs rotate monitoring them twenty-four hours a day," Chickowski explained.
Lionel started to ask why Chickowski hadn't notified him about the videos but decided now was not the time.
Bugs raised his hand for silence. "It'll be coming up on this monitor in just a sec. He says it's not action, but something in the conversation that caught his attention." Bugs turned the sound up on one of the monitors. In a few seconds, the picture went to snow, and in a few more seconds, a new picture flashed on the screen.
This time the scene was in the kid's bathroom. Tabitha and Heather were standing at the line of sinks, toothbrushes in their hands. "I don't believe there are other kids like us out there. I think you're just making it up to get attention," Heather was saying.
"What did she say?" Chickowski blurted out. "Bugs, tell him to back it up again."
The scene stopped, rewound and repeated.
"Well, I'm not making it up. You'll see. They're out there," Tabitha replied to Heather's accusation. "There's at least two of them, and they're far away."
"They are not."
"They are."
"Are not."
"Are too."
The conversation degenerated from there. The screen flashed back to snow." Your tech says that's all there is. He's continuing to monitor the screen, but all the kids are in the dining hall eating right now." The crew around the screen continued to stare at the snow as though expecting the scene to be repeated. Finally, Chickowski broke the silence.
"We've got to find them."
"What?" Chunk asked. "How?'
"I don't know, but we do. Isn't it your job to contain this?"
"Yes, you're right. If there are others out there, we must find them and fast. No telling what mischief they're up to."
"But how?" Lionel repeated Chunk's question. Chunk turned around and looked at him for the first time. "I don't know Dr. Adams, but it's up to you and me to figure out a way."
Time
The last few weeks had been rough on Alp, and it showed in the worried lines of her brow. She knew the aging process had begun to slow since she wasn't growing as fast as before. Still, when she looked in the mirror, she felt as though she was looking at a younger version of her mother. I'll be a withered old lady before spring gets here, she thought each morning.
She hated, actually loathed, working the ski slope by herself. What she hated most about it was that she was so good. The klutzy tourists were such easy game for her sweet smile and innocent looks. A week ago, she had broken the all time high for a single day that Mel and she had set a few months earlier. And this time, it was with a slope only half full with skiers.
It would have to stop soon. She knew they had more than enough money saved up for their trip to wherever they were going. They could probably make it around the world on what they'd saved. But still, she didn't dare let up for fear Sarrah would get suspicious. Sarrah watched her like a hawk these days. It was difficult to make it to the treehouse regularly, so she had started stashing her take in the hollow of an old tree, sneaking it to the cigar box whenever Sarrah slept.
That was usually when she'd visit Mel as well. It was obvious to her Mel was holding up much better than she. He actually seemed to be enjoying the wait.
"My mind focuses so much clearer now," he told her one day. "I know within a week or so, I'll have conditioned myself to reach out far enough, and with sufficient strength to tell where our Kindred sisters are."
"Oh please, Mel, make it soon. I can't stand many more days of the ski slope, not to mention dealing with Sarrah." Alp noticed how easy it was to refer to her mother by her first name. Sarrah was no longer her mother. She was the enemy and the clearer Alp was about it, the better their chances of survival.
"Hang in there, kid. I'm getting stronger every day, and it's getting warmer too. As soon as I know exactly where we're to go, we'll be on our way."
To Alp's surprise, a disturbing thought came to her. "What do we do with Sarrah?"
"I say we burn the bitch," Mel whispered back with vehemence.
Alp remembered the scene with the fat man and the hot foot. "No Mel, we can't. I know she's the enemy and at the same time, she's our...well, she gave us life."
"You're too soft, Alp. But I guess that's why I love you. You've got a conscience. It gets in the way most of the time, but one of us should have one. Okay, we won't burn her if she leaves us alone and doesn't try to stop us. If she does, she's grilled steak."
That had been a week or so ago, and at every opportunity, Alp snuck around the cabin to speak with Mel. "Anything today, Mel? Have you figured out where they are?"
"Almost, getting closer," he'd reply each day.
Meanwhile, the approaching spring seemed to bring new life to Sarrah. The air warmed each day, and her sores and arthritis seemed the better for it. Unfortunately, her temperament didn't have a comparable improvement. Although more alert and active now, she continued to enjoy using the renewed energy to torment her daughter.
The chores around the house seemed endless. Alp had never noticed how much work Mel had done to keep the place running. Now, all his work fell on top of Alp's already burdened shoulders.
"Cut the wood, haul in the wood, do the dishes, sweep the floor, milk the cow... " Endless demands from Sarrah. These were coupled with frequent beatings. Sarrah had discovered a new game. She'd lay in wait for Alp to come home. Instead of always being in front of the fireplace, often she'd be waiting behind the door. When Alp entered, Sarrah would be there with the hickory stick in her hand. It took only a couple of swift strokes to the side of the head for Alp to catch on to the new game. Sarrah even managed to catch her as she came out of her room a couple of times. After one such occasion, Alp seriously considered poisoning the old lady's food but knew, despite the justification in such action, she'd never be able to do it.
Instead, she became paranoid about coming through a doorway. In the evening, she'd peered through the window before entering to be sure Sarrah wasn't hiding behind the door. If she found her there, she'd tap on the glass and wait until Sarrah rolled herself in front of the fireplace. After such an occurrence, Sarrah never commented about what she was doing behind the door.
Finally, the day Alp had been waiting for came. It had been particularly brutal on the mountain. The security team had actually developed a special task force to find and capture the young blonde terror. They had almost succeeded. Sarrah was especially ornery and had actually chased Alp around the room with the hickory stick when she'd spoken back to her. Alp had to run from the cabin to keep from being beaten. Now, an hour later she snuck back to the cabin, circling around to Mel's room.
"You okay, sis?" Mel asked when he heard her scratching signal. "I heard her chasing you."
"Yeah, I'm alright, I guess. She's not the only one that's been chasing me." She told Mel about the task force.
"Wow! You must be giving them hell up there," Mel answered with an obvious note of envy.
"It's gotta stop, Mel. I can't take anymore."
"Okay."
"What's that supposed to mean, okay?" Alp snapped back.
"I mean, okay, it'll stop. I fi
gured out where our sisters are. We're set to go."
Alp felt the tears well up in her eyes from relief. "Oh Mel, I could hug your neck."
"Might be a little hard through this crack, but I'll keep it in mind for later."
Alp was so excited, she could hardly keep her voice down. "Whatta we do now, Mel? When can we leave? Oh please, say it can be soon."
"Is tomorrow soon enough?"
"Boy, I'll say. That's great. We're going to finally meet our sisters. Oh, I can't wait."
"Hold it down a little. We don't want Sarrah following behind us in her wheelchair, do we?"
"Sorry. Where are we going? How far away is it?"
"It's in North Carolina. I don't know exactly how far away, but I would guess about four to five hundred miles."
"Four to five hundred miles!" The words dampened Alp's spirits considerably. "It'll take forever to go that far."
"I told you they weren't close by," Mel reminded her, and then added. "But it won't take very long. We've got enough saved up to go in style. The toughest part will be getting to the airport."
"You mean we can fly down there?"
"Sure we can. We could charter our own plane if we wanted to. We might have a little problem with our age, but hell, money talks no matter how young you are.
"Here's what we'll do. We'll leave first thing in the morning before Sarrah wakes up. Go to the treehouse tonight and get the money. Hide it under the porch step so we can grab it and run. We won't have much time."
"How will you get out? Sarrah still has the key."
"Don't worry about me. I'll get out. Don't pack much. We'll be moving fast. We can always buy what we need once we get to town. Got it?"
"Got it," Alp replied. "You're a great brother, Mel."
"You haven't seen anything yet, little sister. You haven't seen anything yet."
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