“Oh my God!” Marcus exclaimed, clicking on the ‘Record’ button so as to capture all activity. He yanked Reggie into the lab.
Once inside, he demanded, “How long has this been happening?”
“Started right before I texted you,” Rose replied.
Marcus opened his top drawer and extracted a handgun. When he noticed Reggie’s consternation, he said, “Don’t worry,” and pulled out a black case. Flipping the case open, he exposed four long tubes. He selected one of them, put the case away, and inserted the tube into the gun. He stuck the gun in his belt. “Just being prepared, Reg.”
The din of rushing water in the artificial womb crowded out all other sounds in the room as Devante’s huge body thrashed about making waves in his case, arms flailing, legs kicking. Marcus and his team surrounded the womb.
Tom looked at Marcus. “Should we free him?”
“His eyes aren’t open yet,” Marcus observed, then motioned his head. “Go over to the womb computer and be ready to release the amniotic fluid through the flow valve. When he wakes up, if he wakes up, we don’t want him to drown.”
“Got it, sir.” Tom backed up, eyes glued to the case, and moved to the computer a few feet from the womb.
“John,” Marcus called. “Go get the crash cart in case he goes into cardiac arrest.” Marcus peered up to the heart monitor. “His heart rate is through the roof.”
“Yes, sir.” John raced toward the door.
Marcus spun, pointing his arm. “And grab two extra vials of atropine!” His eyes returned to the womb. “Rose, you and Reg prepare the lift because I don’t think...”
The thrashing stopped. The bubbles in the amniotic fluid slowed down in volume and intensity.
Moments passed in silence.
“Did he die?” Rose asked.
“Release him?” John stood ready by the computer.
Marcus looked at the monitor. “He’s still alive. Hold up.”
“Marcus,” Reggie whispered. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Marcus said, as he, Reggie and Rose stepped closer. “He’s still again. Maybe it was just a...”
The three leaped back in unison when Devante’s eyes opened widely. The creature didn’t look around – just straight up.
Then he slowly lifted his arms.
As the glass boundary began to creak with stress, Marcus grabbed Reggie and yanked her back.
Another creak. Marcus shouted, “Get down!”
Spinning, he clutched Reggie into his body and tackled her as he dove onto the hard floor. The glass walls of the case collapsed up and out with water bursting forth. Marcus and Reggie slipped along the floor, spinning with the rushing current of amniotic fluid.
Then debris began to rain down. The fragments of the glass walls sailed in every direction, bouncing off the ceiling and floor.
Marcus, helpless in the slippery liquid, looked to Tom. Tom was at the computer, his hand on the flow valve, and his eyes on the screen. Tom panicked and whirled around as if sensing something. A huge fragment of glass somersaulted toward him. The sharp end of the chunk penetrated his mid-section, forcing him back into the computer table with a crash, his feet flopping in amniotic fluid. Tom’s hands on the terminal completed the circuit and lit him up like a Christmas tree. His body shook violently.
After a few long seconds, the flashes of electricity dwindled, the water flow abated, and the glass settled. The room plunged into quiet, save for some last lights and sparks flickering and dying.
Marcus and Reggie lay on the floor, rattled, soaking wet. Marcus lifted her up. “Reg, you okay?”
Reggie nodded.
John froze in the doorway as he returned with the cart. His eyes took in the horrific mess. “What... what... happened?”
Marcus slipped as he stood to his feet. “I don’t know.” He grabbed Reggie’s hand to lift her and heard sobs from Rose. “Rose, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Scared.” She rolled to her side and faltered to her feet.
“Devante.” Marcus looked over his shoulder.
Through the flickering lights he could see Devante laying on the stand, motionless where the case once was. “Reg,” Marcus whispered and touched her shoulder. “Stay near the wall.”
“You think I’m moving?” Reggie said.
Marcus tried to smile as he ran his fingers down her cheek, and then turned to check on his assistant. “Tom, are you all right?”
At that moment the power went back on and the lab lit up. “Oh shit. God, no!” Marcus wailed. He rushed over, slipping and sliding, and collapsed to his knees next to Tom. He lay on his side, stomach soaked with blood, smoke rising from his head. Marcus turned him over and found lifeless eyes staring back. He didn’t need to feel for a pulse. Reggie called to him.
“Marcus. Look.”
Pivoting his head, Marcus watched as Devante sat up.
Devante’s legs were thick, muscular and well-toned, matching his overall huge physique. He bent his long legs and slowly stood. His eyes were wide open. Although focused and barely shifting, they did not seem to be fixated on any one person. His nude body beaded and shimmered with the amniotic fluid. His long wet hair dangled, some of it sticking to his stern and emotionless face. He edged off of the concrete pedestal that once held the womb, and stepped over the broken glass. He walked steadily and slowly, eyes straight ahead.
Marcus couldn’t blink; he didn’t dare. But Devante didn’t look at Marcus; his focus went to Tom’s body. The crunch of glass and splash of bare feet against the damp floor were the only sounds in the room as Devante lowered before the dead assistant.
Oblivious to his creator, who crouched nearby, Devante reached out his wide hand, gripped the large piece of glass protruding from Tom’s stomach, and extracted it, as if he were removing a sliver from a child’s finger. He tossed it aside absently, and placed his hands on Tom’s head.
Then Devante whispered a sort of incantation. To Marcus, the whispered words seemed at once deep and solemn and strangely dark.
“My awakening... shall be yours.”
Slowly, Devante slid his palms down Tom’s face. As soon as Devante’s fingers crossed over his lips, Tom blinked. Then Devante moved his hands to the wound, wide and seeping, and covered it, with fingers spread. Within seconds, Tom’s injury had disappeared.
Tom moved, alive. Simultaneously, Rose stumbled, spun and began to flee the room.
“Stop!” Devante commanded. “Do not leave this room.”
Rose skidded to a halt, and turned around.
“No one will leave this room. Not yet.” Devante stood, as did Marcus. The two of them locked into a stare and then Devante scanned the shambled lab and each of the faces there.
Tom got to his feet, steadying himself on a table. “Marcus?” His voice trembled.
“You people brought me here and yet you act surprised?” Devante questioned calmly as he stepped across the room toward Reggie. “Why are you all frightened?”
Marcus stepped into Devante’s path trying to block him but. Devante quickly sidestepped and stopped before Reggie. “All but you. You are not frightened.”
Reggie looked up into Devante’s oddly blue eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“No.” Reggie seemed captivated by the giant’s stare until her eyes reflexively moved down his body. She looked away.
The corner of Devante’s mouth crinkled in an amused breath, almost laugh-like. He turned away from Reggie. “I need clothing. Where are the clothes for this body?” he asked.
No response. “Rosemary, get me coverings. Now,” he said louder.
Marcus stepped over to Reggie and put his arms around her protectively.
This time there was no mistaking Devante’s chuckle. “Chivalrous. Honorable,” he remarked with a hint of cynicism, then moved away.
Moments later, he announced, “I apologize if my arrival disrupted the intimacy, you, Dr. Leon, have pined for since childhood.�
�
Devante turned as if bored and moved away.
Marcus tried to show no reaction to what the creature said. Yet, his facial expression conveyed concern.
Devante met Marcus’s glare. “Do you not wonder how I know your desires?” he asked.
“No,” Marcus answered.
“Do you?” Devante turned to Reggie.
“I think your brain was a giant vat while you slept and you sucked it all in.” Reggie said.
“Reggie,” Marcus hissed.
“What, Marcus?”
Rose returned with blue hospital scrubs. Devante seemed drawn to the color. “Clothing for me?”
“Yes.” Rose extended it to him, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
“Give them to Regina. I will take them only from her.”
“No,” Marcus said. “Rose. He’ll take nothing from her.”
“Rosemary.” Devante addressed her sternly and faced her, locking eyes with her. His voice lowered. “There are those whom you shall listen to. And there are those whom you shall not. Give the clothing to Regina.”
As if hypnotized, Rose walked over to Reggie and held out the clothes.
“Reg, no.” Marcus cautioned.
“Marcus, what’s the big deal? God!” She slipped from his hold and snatched the clothes.
“Do not say that,” Devante instructed Reggie. “You use the Lord’s name in vain.” His huge hand grabbed for the clothes, his fingers grazing over Reggie’s as he took them. “Thank you, dear woman.” Devante looked oddly at the hospital scrubs. “What kind of clothing is this?”
“The only kind that will fit you right now,” Reggie said.
“Reg,” Marcus scolded. “Knock it off.”
“She means no harm.” Devante tilted his head at the pants, then awkwardly stepped into them. “I wish for you to speak to Regina only in respectful tones.” He pulled the drawstring on the pants, then put on the shirt. He looked up at Rose and John, who were staring dumbfounded, and asked, “Why is there so much confusion amongst you? Can it be doubt? Do you doubt my existence... or who I am?” He walked slowly around. “Do you think your puny minds brought me here?” He smiled. “Do you, Dr. Leon, not yet realize that all the attempts to stop this, to take your life, were halted to protect my arrival?”
“I was lucky,” said Marcus.
“You were spared and guarded,” said Devante, pointing his finger at Marcus. “Protected so you, Dr. Leon, could open the door for me to step through.”
“Mistakes are made every day.” Marcus said, eerily calm.
“Such hatred,” Devante said. “Such doubt, denial and anger from a man whose mother exudes Christianity with every breath. Though she did interfere with Regina’s affections for David.” He looked at Reggie.
Reggie’s mouth dropped open. “What? Are you psychic?”
“I am more than that.” Devante stepped back.
“David?” Marcus spun and faced Reggie. “The computer guy?”
“Marcus? He’s leaving.” Reggie pointed.
“Huh?” Marcus turned and saw Devante moving toward the door. “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t leave. John, shut that door.”
“John, do no such thing.” Devante requested softly, then turned back to Marcus. “Why do you not want me to go? I have work to do.”
“You stay right here.” Marcus commanded.
“You have given me life, Dr. Leon, you have provided the doorway for me. For that I owe you my deepest gratitude. But my arrival in your world has significance. I have come unto a world filled with hatred, fear, doubts, greed, war, death.” He turned to Rose. “Rosemary, tell Dr. Leon why I am here.”
Rose’s mouth flapped open and closed a few times until words finally emerged. “It’s the end.”
Devante shifted his eyes to Marcus. “Why am I here, Rosemary?” he asked louder.
“To save us,” Rose said.
“I have work to do.” Devante moved toward the door. “Regina, I will find you.”
Marcus stepped forward. “What work do you have?”
“Did you not hear, man, what Rosemary said?” Devante questioned.
“I’m hearing the words of a frightened woman,” Marcus shot back.
“You hear the truth and you know it. Why would you hold me from my mission? Why do you not want the people of your world to be saved?”
Marcus laughed. “Saved? By you?”
“Your disbelief saddens me. You should be filled with praise and wonder,” Devante said. “Do not doubt me. I am who I am said to be.” He pointed to Tom. “Is that man’s return to life by my hand not proof?”
“It’s proof, all right.” Marcus nodded angrily. “But of what, I’m not exactly sure.”
Peacefully, Devante lowered his head, and then slowly, raised his eyes. “You are forgiven for that.” He turned and stepped to the doorway once more.
“You’re not going anywhere!” Marcus ordered.
“You cannot stop me.”
“Want to bet?” In one swift motion, Marcus swept his lab coat aside and reached into his waistband, pulling out the revolver. He planted his feet, clicked back the hammer, aimed and fired.
The gun filled with a hissing whistle. The pellet cartridge seared into Devante’s back.
The large man took one more step, looked back at Marcus, and toppled to the ground.
John, who stood in front of him, stepped out of the way as the big man fell to the floor. “Dr. Leon, you shot Christ.”
“It’s not Christ.” Marcus raced over and crouched down to Devante’s inert body. He felt for a pulse. “It’s slowed, he’s out. John,” Marcus looked up to him, “get a hold of Captain Hayworth downstairs. Tell him to call in two more guards, we’ll need them posted in front of the special room.”
“Yes sir.” John backed up and hurried away.
“Tom,” Marcus called out. “Come here.”
“I can’t believe you did this.” Tom bent down. “I can’t believe you knocked him out. I was dead. He brought me back... and you treat him like... like he’s evil.”
Marcus raised his eyes.
“I’m a man of science,” Tom continued. “But I’m scared for you. This is...”
“No it’s not!” Marcus argued.
“Then explain what happened to me,” Tom said.
“I can’t.” Marcus shook his head. “I can’t.” He saw Rose glaring at him. “Rose?”
“You shouldn’t have done that. Why would you stop him? You know why he’s here. Oh, Marcus, you saw him bring Tom back to life.” Rose brought herself closer to Marcus. “Maybe you should look at who we cloned. How the cloning process went. Marcus, is it right to keep him here?”
“Rose, please, listen to yourself. I mean no disrespect.” Marcus peered at Tom. “Yes, yes, I do. I’m sorry. But I just can’t believe what you two believe. I can’t. Reg?”
Across the room, seeming apprehensive, Reggie uttered, “Yes?”
“I need...” Marcus closed his eyes. “I need you to tell me something. Anything. You always know what to say.” Marcus looked over his shoulder at her. “Please?”
Reggie hesitated, and then swallowed. “I can’t. I’m really sorry, Marcus. I don’t know what to say.”
His heart jumped. Turning back, Marcus looked blankly on the prone figure of Devante. His thoughts scattered. Reggie’s loss for words worried him. He was more than just concerned, he was frightened.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They carried Devante to an average-sized room with a bed, desk, chair and a doorless entryway into a tiny bathroom. Arms folded, Reggie stood next to the bed and stared down at Devante’s still body.
“Please don’t stand so close,” Marcus said. He sat at the desk poring through a book.
Reggie rolled her eyes. “You want me to leave?”
“I want you near me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Finding answers,” Marcus stated in monotone, “to who he is.”
Regg
ie looked back down. “Marcus,” she said. “After exploding through two inch-thick glass, you think the restraint straps will hold him?”
“No,” Marcus answered. “One reason you might keep your distance. Supernatural or not, at least we know his body isn’t.” Marcus flipped a page. “If he tries anything, the guards have guns.”
“If you’re so worried about him, why are we here?”
“I’m thinking. And I’d hate to break my train of thought by moving.”
Reggie sighed. “If you’re interested, I have a few off-the-wall theories. Including a time machine link...”
“No,” Marcus shook his head. “Remember, he brought a dead man back to life.”
“I didn’t forget, but I have a hard time believing it.”
Marcus snickered. “Why not? You saw him do it.”
“Yeah, but I also saw David Copperfield make the Statue of Liberty disappear.”
Marcus brightened.
“What?” Reggie asked.
“You’re a genius. Thanks. An illusion. Yeah.” Marcus flipped the pages of the book.
“What are you talking about?”
“Devante, and the mental notes you just gave me.”
“Glad I could help. What’re you reading? A guide to cloning?” She raised her eyebrows. “Marcus? The Bible?”
“If I want to find out about Christ, where’s the best place to look?”
“It’s not Christ.”
“I know.”
“So why the Bible?” Reggie asked.
“Answers. Answers as to who... he is, or isn’t.”
“It can’t be Christ, Marcus.”
“I agree.” Marcus said. “The scientist in me won’t accept a cloned Christ, nor that I captured His spirit. Nevertheless, that clone did form unnaturally. And I watched him revive a dead man. I heard him speak.” Marcus paused, puzzled. “Reg, he speaks very much like the biblical Christ...” He drifted. “...but our Devante is seven feet tall. If Christ were that big, like Goliath, wouldn’t they mention it in the Bible somewhere? He’s a big boy.” Exhaling loudly, Marcus closed the Bible. “I have to stop for a while.” He looked over at Devante. “He should be out for another six hours. My mind’s spinning.” Marcus stood.
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