by James Morcan
Before the start of the school day, Helen had reached him by phone at the apartment he shared with Ace. His former girlfriend had sounded emotional. She said she wanted to see him and suggested they meet at the diner straight after school. The orphan had readily agreed, though he had his misgivings. Given she’d ended their relationship in no uncertain manner only the day before, it was a major about-face to suddenly want to see him again. And her tone of voice sounded slightly out of character.
Nine was suspicious and wondered whether somebody had gotten to her. If they had, he had a good idea who that somebody was.
Have you connected Helen to me, Tommy?
While he knew there was a possibility Kentbridge had somehow linked Helen to himself, it was a risk he was prepared to take. He was that desperate to see Helen again and try to win her back. He’d been in the darkest place since she’d dumped him. When she’d called, he hoped it was because she’d had a change of heart.
Before setting out for the Mexican diner, Nine had asked Ace to watch his back while he was meeting with Helen. He’d told the formerly homeless Native American he was afraid someone was after him and it could be a set-up, so he’d appreciate it if he could cover him. Ace didn’t believe anyone of importance would be after the kid who had become his benefactor, but he agreed to humor him.
Nine had ridden to the diner on a new bike. It was a gift from Ace who told him it had serendipitously fallen off the back of a truck.
Now, studying the diner, all seemed normal to the orphan. Signs on the diner’s windows and brick walls advertised specials on tacos, tortillas, quesadillas and other popular Mexican foods. The diner was doing a steady trade, and customers came and went.
Ace could be seen sitting at a window table. He seemed to be reading a newspaper as he devoured a Mexican wrap.
There was no sign of Helen. Nine just hoped she’d kept her side of the bargain and was waiting for him inside somewhere. Outside the diner, there was nothing that raised Nine’s suspicions. No vehicles with tinted windscreens or suspicious looking individuals.
Casting caution to the wind, Nine padlocked his new bike to a fence and headed for the diner. He spotted Helen as soon as he walked inside. She was seated alone at a table for two on the far side of the diner.
Ace noticed Nine as soon as he entered, but in keeping with the orphan’s instructions he didn’t make eye contact with him.
Having already surreptitiously scanned the other patrons, Nine walked straight over to Helen. She smiled as he joined her. He didn’t return the smile, preferring to signal that he wouldn’t come back to her so easily.
“Hello Luke,” Helen said.
“Hey,” Nine replied in a serious but not entirely unfriendly tone. Sitting down opposite Helen, he quickly assessed her demeanor, body language and facial expressions. Her beautiful dark eyes sparkled as always, but the orphan detected something wasn’t quite right. Helen’s smile seemed forced.
Have I walked into a trap?
He forced himself to relax. His reasoning was he’d been on the run so long he was becoming paranoid.
“I ordered for you,” Helen said, pointing to a tray of tacos and a plastic cup of fizzy drink on the tabletop. “I assume you like tacos?”
“I’m not hungry,” Nine replied dismissively. “Why did you want to see me again?”
Helen looked at him thoughtfully.
“Yesterday,” the orphan continued, “you were emphatic it was over between us.”
“Well, I know, and I am sorry for that,” she reached out and touched his hand. “I got scared, and whenever I get fearful I just want to run away.”
Listening to her, Nine became even more suspicious something was wrong. Although she was saying all the right things, her tone was hollow. She sounded like she didn’t believe what she was saying – as if she were reciting a script.
“I have thought about everything,” she said, “and I know now I still feel a connection between us.”
Nine perceived Helen was stalling for time. He became convinced of this when she kept looking over his shoulder at the entrance behind him, as if she was awaiting someone’s arrival. Nine strongly sensed Kentbridge’s hand in the whole set-up.
Nobody else could have orchestrated all this but Tommy, the sly dog.
When Nine digested the fact that Helen was not here to help him but turn him over to Omega, he wished she could experience his pain.
Burn in hell, you bitch.
Helen was still talking, but Nine was no longer listening to her meaningless words.
“I know exactly what you’re doing, Helen.” Nine stared at her accusingly.
Unable to look him in the eye, a guilty Helen studied the tabletop.
“How could you?” Nine asked. “I would’ve done anything for you.”
“I am sorry, Luke,” Helen replied. “But you are not well. You need help.”
“Did Tommy tell you that?”
“Who?”
“Tommy Kentbridge.”
Helen didn’t answer.
Nine estimated their remaining time together could now be measured in seconds. He spoke quickly. “One day, when you’re older, and more experienced, you’re going to wish you had someone who cared for you as much as I did.”
Helen looked up again. She was alarmed to see Nine was bristling with anger.
“Democrat Bill Clinton will be elected President by the end of the year.” Nine said urgently to her. “And when it’s announced, ask yourself how this crazy orphan could predict something like that.”
Helen looked at him as if he really was clinically insane.
Without warning, Nine jumped to his feet and sprinted toward the exit. “Help me, Ace! It’s show time!”
The Native American, who was as stunned as Helen by this sudden turn of events, stood up and followed Nine who by now was halfway out the door.
Outside, Nine’s worst fears were realized. An official-looking black vehicle pulled up directly in front of him. The FBI logo on the driver’s door left no doubt who the vehicle belonged to.
Behind Nine, Ace emerged from the diner just as the vehicle’s rear door opened and an FBI agent disembarked. The agent’s pistol was drawn and it was pointed at Nine.
Any thoughts Ace had of assisting the boy vanished when the driver’s window wound down and he found himself looking down the barrel of a pistol the driver was pointing at him.
“Don’t do anything silly now, Geronimo,” the driver warned.
Powerless to act, Ace could only look on as Nine was cuffed and bundled into the back of the vehicle. He caught a glimpse of another man, a rugged, thirtysomething FBI-type, sitting in the back seat before the door slammed shut. Ace wasn’t to know that was the boy’s master, Kentbridge. The vehicle took off at speed.
“Sorry Luke!” Ace shouted after the disappearing vehicle.
The entire incident had happened so quickly, few diners or passersby noticed anything untoward. And those who had soon went back to what they were doing, thinking the kid had committed some crime and was being carted off to the local police station.
Ace knew better. He understood the FBI would never get involved in any case unless it was of major importance. Chasing after runaway children was normally only a community policing matter. Stunned and confused, he returned to the diner.
As the Native American re-entered the diner, Helen walked out. It was only after she’d passed him that Ace recognized her as the girl Nine had been talking to. He noticed she carried herself as if her job was done and she was emotionally moving on.
Ace hurried to catch up to her. “Excuse me, you must be Helen.”
Surprised, she looked at the long-haired stranger. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Luke’s. A good friend.”
Helen asked, “So you must be aware Luke has a serious mental condition, then?”
Ace shook his head adamantly. “He’s as sane as they come.” He could tell by the look on Helen’s face she thought differently.
“Is that what the authorities told you? That he has a mental condition?”
“Not just the authorities,” Helen replied defensively. “I saw it myself. Luke has so many wild stories that--”
“Well, maybe some of those stories were true, did you ever consider that?”
Before Helen could respond, her father appeared.
“Is everything alright, my dear?” Mister Katsarakis asked, studying Ace critically.
“Yes, father.” Helen allowed her father to escort her to his waiting car.
“Why did the FBI come if he was just some deranged kid?” Ace shouted out after her.
Father and daughter disappeared around a corner, leaving Ace on his own.
The Native American returned to his vacated table inside the diner and sat down to finish his meal. It was nearly cold. As he pecked at the food, he went over in his mind what had just happened. Nine hadn’t told him much, so he had to use his imagination to fill in the gaps. As he mulled over the dramatic events of the last few minutes, he realized he had more questions than answers.
The only conclusion he came to was he’d never see the boy again. Nine, or Luke as he knew him, had become like a real nephew to him. He was suddenly filled with a deep sadness.
50
A jolt woke Nine. Another jolt followed by a loud humming sound.
Where am I?
The orphan wondered if he was dreaming. Everything was blurry and he had a splitting headache. He felt like he was in a trance – as if he’d been drugged. Another jolt.
Air turbulence!
Slowly, it dawned on him he was in an aircraft. Looking around, he found he was in the compartment of what appeared to be a military plane. It wasn’t clear whether it was a passenger or freight compartment. Camouflage webbing and parachutes hung from hooks along both sides of the compartment, indicating it was possibly the former. If it was, all the seats had been removed, apart from his, and it seemed he was the only passenger.
Nine tried to move his right hand, but couldn’t. He stared at it and realized he was handcuffed to a handrail on the fuselage. He also noticed the White Gold was no longer on his forearm.
Gradually it all came back to him. He recalled being set up by Helen and then being captured by the FBI agent whose handcuffs he figured were probably the same ones he wore now. It was a no-brainer the agent was one of the moles Omega had planted within the FBI. Nine also recalled Kentbridge injecting him with a hypodermic needle in the back seat of the FBI vehicle.
More fuzzy flashbacks came to him: a fast drive across town; a dark room in a strange building; broken sleep; a visit to an airport; another needle. He reasoned it must have been a powerful sedative to have kept him under until now.
Nine thought of Helen and what they’d had together. He tried to visualize her and realized he could no longer picture her face clearly. Her features morphed into an image of his fellow orphans Seventeen then Six and then Two.
Shaking his head as if to clear the images from his mind, he realized he no longer harbored the same intense feelings he once had for Helen. She was no longer dominating his every thought as she had these past few months. Instead, the orphan just felt coldness toward her. He now knew it had all been nothing more than a boyhood infatuation.
A stupid infatuation.
A door opened in the bulkhead to his left. Nine immediately saw that the bulkhead separated his compartment from the cockpit.
Kentbridge’s frame filled the doorway. Behind the special agent, Nine could see the pilot and co-pilot at the controls. They were in Air Force uniform, confirming this was a military aircraft.
For several tense seconds, Kentbridge and Nine stared at each other. Neither spoke. There was really nothing to say at this point.
The special agent continued on down the compartment and disappeared into one of the restrooms toward the rear. He emerged a minute later and headed back toward Nine. “You need to use the restroom?”
Nine shook his head. As Kentbridge reopened the door to the cockpit, the orphan asked, “Why don’t you just kill me?”
Kentbridge studied the orphan for a moment then entered the cockpit, closing the door behind him.
Alone again, Nine decided he didn’t care about freedom anymore. He wanted to die.
I have tried to be a good orphan. I have tried to be a regular citizen. I couldn’t even keep a girlfriend. I’ve failed at everything. There’s nothing left to live for.
The word loser kept reverberating in his brain.
#
On arrival back at the Pedemont Orphanage in Riverdale, Chicago, Kentbridge frog-marched Nine back onto Omega’s property. To reinforce his authority in front of the staff and the other orphans, he kept the boy handcuffed.
A group of half a dozen orphans were doing stretching exercises on the front lawn before heading out for a run with their PT instructor. They looked on in amazement at the sight of the rogue orphan being brought in.
Thirteen and Seventeen were among them. The muscular Polynesian boy gave Nine a wave. Nine didn’t respond; the cool blonde girl just stared at her old nemesis.
Seventeen was secretly pleased Nine had been captured. She hoped her Omega masters would punish him and punish him good. After all, we ended up having to pay for his feeble escape attempt. All because boy wonder wanted to become an everyday citizen.
Nine deliberately avoided making eye contact with her or any of the other orphans, but could sense some of them thought he was some kind of legend for escaping.
We are all slaves and they don’t even know it.
Cavell ran up to Nine, wagging his tail. The dog whimpered. He seemed to sense the ninth-born orphan was somehow scarred.
The returning orphan felt a familiar sense of dread as Kentbridge marched him up the front steps.
#
That evening, in their first floor sleeping quarters, all twenty three orphans knelt beside their beds and recited their daily affirmation in unison.
I am an Omegan and a polymath.
Whatever I set my mind to, I always achieve.
The limitations that apply to the rest of humanity,
Do not apply to me.
The orphans climbed into bed and, like clockwork, awaited the arrival of their last dose of White Gold for the day. While they waited, Nine sensed the eyes of his fellow orphans on him. He was in no mood to engage and continued to avoid eye contact. To date, his responses to the many questions they’d fired at him had been monosyllabic. Being reunited with his fellows had done nothing to dissipate his earlier feelings of loneliness. If anything, he felt lonelier than ever.
A stern-looking man Nine had never seen before entered the floor carrying a tray full of small phials of White Gold. He was accompanied by Nurse Hilda. The man, who looked thirtysomething, began handing the phials out to the orphans while Nurse Hilda followed him around, filling out forms.
Curiosity got the better of Nine. After downing his dose of White Gold, he turned to his friend and resident joker, Ten, in an adjoining bed. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Doctor Andrews, the new guy,” Ten said. “He’s a real bundle of joy, as you can see.”
“Where’s Doctor Pedemont?”
“He went missing while you were away and was never found.”
Nine was shocked. As the doctor and nurse left the sleeping quarters and the lights were turned off, Nine lay back in the dark wondering if there was anything sinister about Doctor Pedemont’s disappearance. Nothing would surprise him: he knew life was cheap within Omega circles.
#
In the exclusive Chicago suburb of Oak Park, Kentbridge lay next to his wife in the bedroom of their home. The special agent rolled on to his side and studied Rachel. She was fast asleep, but for some reason he had insomnia.
That didn’t add up as he’d been working eighty to one hundred hour weeks of late and sleep had been at a premium. Focusing on finding and capturing Nine, not to mention carrying out Naylor’s frequent and demanding orders, had pushed hi
m to the limit.
Thinking of Naylor made Kentbridge realize why he couldn’t get to sleep. It was the last thing the agency director had said to him: he’d ordered him to discipline the boy severely, physically and mentally.
I don’t think so, Andrew.
Kentbridge had something else in mind. Something he predicted would be far more effective.
Satisfied he knew the right way to reprogram Nine, Kentbridge finally fell asleep.
51
Nine and Kentbridge sat together on the west bank of the Little Calumet River, its waters sparkling in the morning sun. The special agent pointed to a giant Asian carp that swam by. Downstream, fishermen cast their lines beneath a bridge, seemingly oblivious to the pedestrians, cyclists and cars that traveled to and fro above them.
Temperatures were noticeably warmer and the recent blizzard that had paralyzed Chicago was now just a memory. Spring had definitely arrived.
Two days had elapsed since Kentbridge had brought Nine back to the Pedemont Orphanage. The orphan was still waiting for his punishment. He expected to be tortured, put into solitary confinement or given demeaning tasks at the very least, but so far everything had been the same as before he’d escaped. The same except for one thing.
The previous day, Doctor Pedemont’s replacement, Doctor Andrews, had performed an operation on each of the orphans, replacing the microchip embedded in the forearm of each with a more advanced microchip. Nine guessed the procedure had been prompted by his escape, though no-one said anything. Tests had shown the signal from the replacement tracking device could not be blocked by White Gold or by any other substance or technology.
The operation had been straightforward, leaving only a small scar which would eventually fade. Nine’s forearm was still a little tender, but the stitches he’d received were doing their job. The orphan noticed an even bigger carp swimming upstream.
“That’s another carp they missed,” Kentbridge said, referring to the luckless fishermen downstream.
Nine didn’t respond. He’d been a closed book since his return and was in no mood for small talk.
As Kentbridge surreptitiously studied Nine’s profile, Naylor’s words were still ringing in his ears. Punish the boy to within an inch of his life, the Omega director had ordered. Although Kentbridge was under pressure to do just that, he remained convinced he knew better than Naylor on this particular issue.