After she left, I put the pasta on, finished cooking and called out that dinner was ready.
“Something smells good,” Father said as he sat at the table.
Mother joined him. “Certainly does.”
I looked down to admire the meal I’d made, overcome by a wave of pride. Mother had asked me to prepare dinner and I’d risen to the task.
Then I took my first mouthful and knew something was seriously wrong.
“Hmm.” Mother made an appreciative sound.
“Delicious,” Father said, his head down.
It wasn’t. The pasta was an overcooked, soggy mess topped with a sludge-like sauce infused with an acrid smokiness that was clearing my nasal passages. Luckily I’d had some truly terrible army rations while on training exercises near the Badlands, so I could handle this. I only hoped my parents had been hardened the way I was.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to finish it.”
“This is lovely,” Father said. “However, it is very filling.”
I kept eating and looked at them both. “Wow, you two are so polite I can’t believe it.”
“You’ve gone to so much trouble with the meal,” he said.
I nodded. “But it’s terrible. You can say it.”
The two of them laughed and stared at me with what could only be described as affection. Affection? Where had that come from?
Father kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner, Nicola.”
I couldn’t look at him as he left the room. I didn’t need this. I had Lucien waiting for me in New Nation. He was more than my superior officer, more than someone who understood me, more than the man who’d helped mold me into the soldier I was.
Lucien had saved my life. It was during a training exercise with live ammunition. He’d seen a recruit taking aim, seen that I was in the way, and had thrown himself in the line of fire to take the bullet himself. His shoulder still ached from the wound.
I had to be the best soldier I could possibly be. For my country. For Lucien. Because he was my hero.
Mother took her plate to the kitchen bench. “I’ll do the dishes if you like, honey.”
Her shoulders had slumped and make-up failed to cover the dark smudges beneath her eyes. It didn’t take a genius to work out she was tired.
I stood and joined her by the sink. “Why would you offer to do the cleaning up? You’re exhausted.”
“Because I can see you’re struggling. Because you tried so hard with dinner. And because I probably pushed you too hard. Cooking takes practice. It’s not easy.”
This was worse than I thought. The kindness in her voice when she talked to me…The fact the two of them had eaten the sludge I’d cooked…The way they looked at me…
“It’s because you love me,” I blurted out.
Mother laughed. “You don’t have to say that like it’s a disease. Of course I love you, silly.”
How could she love me when she didn’t know me?
My real parents in New Nation didn’t love me, not as far as I knew, anyway. They’d visited my schools on many occasions so they were hardly strangers to me, but they’d never expressed anything resembling love. Pride at my success, yes. Satisfaction that I was doing my part for New Nation, yes. But never love.
My biological parents had been brought together for procreation, selected on the grounds of genetic compatibility for the best chances of producing strong offspring. They lived together in government lodgings, along with hundreds of other couples, whose roles for the state had been the same.
Love didn’t come into it.
“All parents love their children,” Mother said. “It doesn’t matter how old you are, you’ll still be my baby and I’ll always love you.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. I felt the warmth of her body beside mine, firm and reassuring. I felt a lot of things, none of which I wanted to face.
I turned to the sink. “I’ll finish up on my own.”
I’d only been here a month. This was ridiculous. I certainly didn’t appreciate the pang of emotion in my gut.
“One more thing,” she said. “Just because we love you doesn’t change anything about the Everills’ visit. I’ve asked them to stay with us.”
“What?”
“You heard.”
“Mom, there’s something you don’t know about Angelo Everill.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but he’s been accused of sexual abuse by two female students.”
Horror in her eyes. “What?”
“It’s all over the internet.”
She covered her mouth, then reached for my hand. “Surely he didn’t go near you. He wasn’t your computing teacher after all.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“This isn’t…I can’t…Honey, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to check the internet and speak with your father.”
At least, that part of my life was under control, as I was sure the Everills would not be coming to stay. But my relationship with my so-called parents still bothered me. A lot. Their feelings for me, the way they took care of me, even the way they spoke to me – this was getting out of hand.
As I started cleaning up, it hit me. Suddenly I knew what was so wrong with this picture. Apparently, my parents’ love for me was perfectly normal.
And my superior officers knew.
They’d known all along.
They’d planted memories of raising a child in the minds of Jan and Philip Gray, and the concept of love was part and parcel of that. The men who’d sent me on this mission knew that parents loved their children, that they’d do anything for their offspring.
So what else hadn’t my superior officers told me about?
Chapter Ten
I’d survived another day at school and had got through another dinner with my parents too, though that was much easier when I wasn’t doing the cooking.
Mother pulled up outside Ben Tanner’s house. “I’ll pick you up at nine thirty unless you call first.”
“Thanks for the lift.” I closed the car door behind me, my laptop bag slung over one shoulder.
Hearing the driver’s door open, I glanced back to see her getting out of the car.
Her heels clicked on the front path as she rushed to catch me. “I just want to meet his parents to check everything is okay.”
I stopped at the door. “Ben said his dad’s home. There’s no need for you to come in.”
Mother put her hand out as if making a stand. “I know you’re embarrassed.”
“That’s not it. I don’t want you to waste your time.”
“Looking after your safety is not a waste of my time. I’ll feel better if I meet Ben and check everything is okay.”
Far from being embarrassed, I found her response touching. Or I would if I were the sort of person who was touched by emotion, which I wasn’t.
I pressed the doorbell. “It’s not as if this is a high-danger zone.”
She stopped by the front door. “This may be news to you but sometimes terrible things happen in the world. Not everyone is as nice as you.”
I wasn’t as pleasant as she thought. Nice didn’t come into it. I’d been sent here to complete a task, part of which involved fitting into this environment which was turning out to be harder than it should be.
Ben opened the door, smiled politely and suggested Mother come in. Ben’s father was cleaning up in the kitchen, and seemed very glad to meet us. Deep lines bracketed his mouth, even more so when he smiled, his sandy hair cropped short because it was receding.
“Are we going up to your room, Ben?” I asked.
I’d already seen the enormous desk in his bedroom but stopped myself from myself from mentioning it. Meanwhile Mother glared at me.
“No, I’ve set us up in the dining room,” he said.
“Let’s get started then.”
Ben reached across to shake Mother’s hand. “Lovely to meet you.”
She beamed, clearly pleased.
<
br /> I looked at Ben’s father. “Thanks for having me over.”
He smiled. Despite the amount of time I’d spent in Altabena, it wasn’t always easy picking the right thing to say.
Ben and I headed down the hall to the dining room. Sure enough, Ben’s laptop, a pile of books and papers, and a tray with a bottle of water and two glasses sat on the long mahogany table.
“Not my favorite room in the house,” Ben said under his breath. “Take a seat.”
The walls were painted deep burgundy and a long buffet covered with framed photos lined one wall. A large picture of the whole family took pride of place in the middle. Ben’s mother held a blond toddler on her knee while his father had his head close to his wife’s, his arms around a much younger Ben and the older brother.
We hadn’t been seated long when Ben’s dad popped his head inside the door. I couldn’t help but notice how much he’d aged in the few years since the portrait was taken.
“Just checking you’ve got everything you need in here,” he said.
I looked up and smiled. “Sure, thanks.”
“Yes, Dad.” Ben sounded annoyed. “We’re fine.”
“Okay.” His father left.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know what he thinks we’re going to get up to in here.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Maybe he thinks we’re going to be studying the reproductive system or something.”
“Where would he get that idea? That’s not what the science project is about.”
Ben laughed. “Sometimes you crack me up.”
I smiled casually as if that was what I’d intended all along. The way Mother had glared at me when I’d suggested going to Ben’s room came back to me, raising even more questions.
“Is that why we’re here instead of in your bedroom?” I asked. “So we don’t get up to anything unseemly?”
Ben grinned. “Unseemly? Where did you learn to talk that way?” He waved a hand. “But, yes, that’s basically it. Dad wants to make sure there’s no ‘funny business’ as he puts it.”
Funny business, I’d have to remember that term. There’d certainly be none of that.
“I only came here to study,” I said. “For the science project.”
He looked at me as if I was weird. Maybe I’d missed something.
“I can see that,” he said. “Let’s get down to it.”
“There’s a lot to get through but I’ve got a plan.”
He raised his eyebrows. “A plan?”
I always had a plan of attack. In the longer term, I was thinking about eliminating Ben but it was too early to do the job just yet. Meanwhile I was still a high school student, a competitive one at that.
We set to work, deciding which areas needed further research and what else we’d need to do. Half an hour later, there was a gentle knock at the door.
“Dad, we’re fine,” Ben said without looking up.
I turned to see Celia standing quietly by the door in pink princess pajamas and a matching bathrobe.
“Ben,” she said in a small high-pitched voice.
As soon as he looked across, his shoulders relaxed. “Oh, it’s you. Come in, Squirt.”
“Hi Celia,” I said.
She waved and returned my smile, then turned to her brother. “Dad said I wasn’t allowed to disturb him yet. My movie finished and I can’t get the next show to start. I didn’t know what to do.”
He stood and ruffled her hair. “Let’s take a look, then.” He motioned for me to join them.
The living area was much more relaxed than the dining room. Cushions were scattered on two sofas and there was a pleasant level of clutter in the room.
Celia sat back and pulled a doll onto her lap while I perched on the arm of the sofa. Ben reached for the remote control on the coffee table, found a program on the system and pressed play. A cartoon popped up on the television.
Strangely it was one I’d seen as a kid. In New Nation, the television industry was very small and few new shows were produced other than news services and government programming. We could watch what we wanted but there wasn’t much to choose from. That was why I’d watched so many old TV shows and movies. It helped me escape into a different world, if only for a while.
“Thanks, Ben,” the little girl said.
“No problem, Squirt.”
Celia looked up at him with big blue eyes, her eyelashes impossibly long as she blinked. With her soft cheeks and smooth skin, it was as if her features were designed to make her appear cute and vulnerable. It was having an effect, even on me.
“Thanks, Ben.” She threw her arms around him, then settled back onto the sofa, her eyes glued to the screen in a scene that was so ordinary and yet so heartwarming.
“I don’t like using the television as a baby sitter, but sometimes we have to,” Ben said as we left.
“What about your mother?” I asked. “Where’s she?”
“She’s not around,” he snapped.
He’d told me that once before. This time, the terseness of his reply took me by surprise.
As we settled at the dining table again, he added quietly, “It’s just Dad and us three kids, except Josh has gone to college in Seattle. Not that he ever did much to help.”
“Was he supposed to?” I asked.
“Of course he was supposed to. Dad couldn’t do everything and Josh always pretended it was all too hard for him so I got lumbered with extra work around the house. Not that Celia’s hard work. She’s a great kid.” He stared at me. “I hope I’m not going on about it. You haven’t been through this sort of thing, have you?”
I’d missed out on more than he could imagine and was riveted by what he had to say. My life in New Nation was complicated, only in a different way. There was always an upcoming challenge, training exercises designed to push us to the limits, as well as high academic standards to maintain. Yet somehow the complexities of Ben’s life took things to a whole new level.
“You’ve seen how cute Celia is,” Ben said. “I can’t just forget about her.”
His eyebrows went up in the middle and his green eyes sparkled as he spoke. I’d seen that same sort of expression before, when my parents had given me that loving look last night.
“That makes you feel good, doesn’t it?” I asked.
Ben frowned. “You’re a strange one. I don’t normally talk about this stuff, but I feel like I have to explain it all to you.”
Maybe that’s because you do.
“We should probably get on with the project,” I said.
My head down, I shuffled through the papers on the table while Ben was on the computer.
He slammed the laptop shut and dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe they ask us this shit.”
“Sorry?” I asked, wondering what shit he was referring to.
He leaned back, folded his arms. “This is a load of crap. As part of the assignment, they want to know how much blood you can lose before the onset of death. What kind of question is that?”
“What’s so unusual?” I asked. “In class, Mr. Rodriguez asked you about how much blood there was in the human body and you knew all the answers.”
“Photographic memory.”
“Then what’s the answer?”
“Screw the answer.”
Where had that come from? Weren’t we simply working on a science project?
Ben gritted his teeth. “Generally you can lose up to forty percent of circulating blood volume before hemorrhaging sets in. After that, aggressive resuscitation is required to prevent death.”
I pulled the laptop across and opened it. “Forty percent sounds like a lot, a huge loss.”
“This is such bullshit. It’s all so clinical. It misses the point.”
“What point is that?”
“Blood is vital.” He jabbed his finger on the table. “Blood is life. But they don’t put that in the textbooks. They don’t teach us what’s important.”
Blood is l
ife.
He was looking way beyond the literal question we’d been asked, showing depth, providing an insight into human life. Why? And why this intensity?
I cleared my throat. “So what are you planning on doing with this photographic memory and vast store of knowledge you have? You want to be a doctor, don’t you?”
“Yep, it’s what I’m most interested in. What about you? What do you think you’ll do when you leave school?”
“I might join the military,” I said.
Ben covered his mouth to hide a smirk, then burst out laughing. At least it broke the tension.
“That wasn’t a joke,” I said.
“I know. That’s what makes it so funny.”
“What does your dad do?” I asked.
“He’s an accountant.”
“And your mom?”
“She was a lawyer.”
Was. So that was it. She was dead.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” I said. “When did your mom pass away?”
“Five years ago.”
He’d said he’d been angry as a kid. It must’ve been a lot for a twelve-year-old to cope with. A lot for anybody, for that matter.
“So now your dad looks after you, and you look after your little sister,” I said.
“That’s pretty much it.”
I remembered what he’d said to Celia when she’d slipped onto the road. I cannot lose you too. That was why he’d reacted so strongly. Because he was vulnerable. I felt for Ben. I shouldn’t but I did.
“I can see why you like Celia,” I said. “She’s a sweetie.”
“You and Celia have something in common. Why do you think I chose you for this project?”
I held his gaze. “Because I’m smart and hardworking.”
“Because you’re funny, Nicola.”
“No, I’m not.”
“And because you’re cute. You have the prettiest blue eyes.”
He slid his fingers across the table and covered my hand with his. My mouth fell open, my lips parting in surprise.
Surely this didn’t mean what I thought it meant. He couldn’t be trying to get intimate with me when only minutes ago he’d been so worked up.
I pulled my hand back and motioned to the laptop. “We’d better get on with the assignment.”
He leaned closer and I felt the warmth of his body next to mine. Oh, no. I suspected we were heading into the field of ‘funny business’ his father had been so concerned about.
Infiltration (Infiltration Book 1) Page 7