“That appears to be their business approach, I agree,” Eve said. “I’m trying to understand what it is you find troubling. The populations they are servicing are powerfully secretive, this seems only appropriate.”
“Sure, sure,” he said. And then he fell silent.
This happened a lot over the next few weeks. Rick acted like he was struggling with an idea he couldn’t put voice to, and these daily forays into the Holitix company architecture was the only way he could wrestle effectively with the concept.
Eve was ready to put the whole thing behind her and move on, which possibly meant leaving the relative comfort of Rick’s home and developing a more thoroughly independent existence in the world. She’d been with him long enough to recognize that what had at first been a moment of convenience—specifically, a sexual need and a willing partner—had become a longer-term arrangement, and it was an arrangement that wasn’t going to allow her to accomplish what she wished. It was easy enough to be taken care of, but it wasn’t precisely a novelty, and she hated thinking of herself as dependent.
It was possible this was what Rick actually struggled over, whether consciously or not. So long as the death of Cee was their problem, she wouldn’t leave. His need to solve the Holitix mystery might have been rooted in an interest in keeping Eve around.
While Rick toiled with uncovering a conspiracy he seemed the only one to recognize, Eve tried to solve the matter the only way she could: by finding the sick elf again and confirming his good health. If she could verify the efficacy of the pills and the doctor’s care, it may go far in assuaging their worries and convincing Rick to relax.
The problem was, she couldn’t find the elf. Each day, as before, she returned to the marketplace to reconnect with him, and each day she failed to do so.
It didn’t mean anything, of course. It was a busy part of the city, and there was no reason to assume he traveled through the market as a matter of habit. Or he quit, or lost his job, or any number of a hundred other explanations. All that could be drawn from it was that the elf was not going to be the solution she’d hoped for him to be.
Unless… he hadn’t gotten better. Unless he was dead, and she had been right all along.
She decided not to tell Rick, and to believe that not finding the elf didn’t mean what it could have meant. But each day that went by without him turning up made the benign explanation harder to accept.
* * *
“Here’s what bothers me,” Rick said one night.
They were out on his porch at the time, enjoying the cool evening breeze and sated appetites, having dined and made love. Both experiences were very pleasant, if less than ardent. Dee was buzzing around, which was something they had gotten so used to they sometimes forgot it was an unusual thing.
“Did you know the government used to conduct experiments on handicapped kids?”
“No. Which government?”
“This one. The U.S. government.”
“I didn’t know that, no.”
Eve was aware of thousands of atrocities committed by hundreds of governments. She couldn’t imagine this particular atrocity was any worse than the others. Such was the nature of this world.
“The reason, right, is that a handicapped kid is still a human kid, so if you’re gonna test a medication or see how people respond to a certain kind of radiation, or if you want to figure out how many doses of a poison it takes to kill somebody, why not try it out on someone who’s already a throwaway person, right? By the standards of the time, I mean. Same thing happened to black people in the Fifties in a couple of places. Biologically human, but also not considered human. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Perhaps. You’re wondering what would happen if someone decided to conduct experiments on certain non-humans.”
“I’m wondering if they already are conducting those experiments. The pills from Holitix… we don’t know what’s in them, and they’re going to market in a shadow industry to patients nobody is supposed to know even exist. And it’s not like they’re making money off of the pills. Marks had a drawer full of these and he just handed over one bottle like it was nothing. Lemme ask you: if one of these folks die, what happens?”
“It’s handled quietly. Internally, within the community.”
“So, if a human businessman melts in his own apartment, we’re gonna see it in the news. But if it’s an elf?”
“I see what you mean now.”
“There’s no accountability here! The FDA isn’t going to be checking on these pills, and neither is anyone else. So what if? What if those tree root pills aren’t just doing nothing, what if it’s worse than that? What if they’re doing something and it’s a bad something.”
“You’re forgetting Cee. She wasn’t taking the pills, and we don’t know how she even got sick.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. And there’s no business incentive that makes any sense here. If the company has a market cornered on a specific kind of customer, poisoning that customer is poor financial planning, whether it’s accidental or not. Plus, as the doctor said, they’re as different as birds and dogs. The money would be in running under-the-radar experiments on non-humans to test drugs meant for humans.”
“Yes. All of that is true, provided money is the goal.”
“Not that you’re wrong, but what other goal would a corporation have?”
“I don’t know. But motives can be complex and not necessarily guided by reason. Presumptions to the contrary have brought down kingdoms.”
* * *
A week after that conversation, just prior to dinner, Rick received a phone call from Dr. Marks.
“I wanted to let you both know I asked around, and it looks like I may owe you an apology,” he said. Eve could hear him clearly because, on receiving the call, Rick hit a button to make the cellular phone loud enough for them to both hear. On speaker was what he called it. This was another of the things Eve still had to make time to adjust to.
“I don’t think you need to apologize for anything,” Rick said. “But what’s up?”
“As it turns out, there does appear to be something new going around. I described the symptoms to a few colleagues, and surprisingly, they have seen it. And not in pixies, either. Incidentally, they were very jealous that I got to see one.”
“So, there may be something happening,” Eve said, loudly, directly at the phone. Rick made a signal with his hand to suggest she lower her voice. Talk normal, he mouthed.
“May be, yes. Hello, Eve. That brings me to the other reason I called. We’re having a symposium of sorts. It’s not at all formal, since there are only six of us, but we like to meet every couple of months, and it’s really useful when something like this turns up. Our next meeting is in a couple of days, and I thought it would be wonderful if the two of you could stop by and talk about what you observed. We need to, level-set, let’s say, and I think it would help. Figure out what we can figure out and all that.”
“Two days?” Rick repeated. “Yeah, I think we can do that. Where do we go?”
Marks read out the address. It was familiar to both of them.
“Isn’t that the Holitix building?” Rick asked.
“It’s one of them! We all do a little consulting for Holitix. These meetings are as much feedback for their benefit as for ours. I’ll introduce you, they’re great people.”
Rick shot her a look she couldn’t entirely read. He was either wary or excited.
“That sounds great,” he said.
“So you’ll be there?”
“Absolutely, count us in.”
“I’m so glad! And don’t worry about dinner, we cater the whole thing. Oh! And before I forget, would it be possible to bring your pixie friend? As I said, everyone’s jealous. We promise, nothing invasive.”
SIX
The Holitix factory was on what Rick called an industrial road, and it wasn’t difficult to understand why. Every building on the road was a corporate structure of some sort, each announced with
large stone-and-metal signs at the base of long drives leading away from the road. It reminded Eve of war battlements: fortresses of soldiers established far from population centers, ready to strike out on long campaigns with a word from the emperor.
The building itself was less fortress-like. The designers didn’t appear concerned with siege engines or defensive measures against heavy infantry. There was also none of the security measures she expected, like tall fences or a gated lot. She and Rick simply left the road, drove up the hill and around a corner, and arrived in their parking area.
It was toward the end of the business day, so most of the workers were at the same time driving down the hill and away from the office park, which made finding a spot for the car that was near the entrance simple enough.
“Doesn’t look all that ominous,” Rick said, as they climbed out.
“You were expecting something else?”
“Maybe, yeah. More mad-scientist-y.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant. A movie reference, possibly.
“You were concerned. I know you joke, but you were concerned.”
He squinted at the building—the setting sun was lighting up the windows—rather than looking at her. It was a behavior she learned to expect when he spoke of serious matters. He preferred to address a non-specific area in the distance instead of the person he was addressing. It was a curious quirk.
“I was, and I guess I am still. I mean, here, this is where this meeting is happening, right? It feels dumb to think like this because we’re, you know, in the real world, but I’d have been a whole lot more relaxed if Dr. Marks had given us just about any other address. Like, if this weren’t me and I was watching me do this I’d be screaming, ‘it’s a trap, Rick, don’t go in there!’”
“We don’t have to go in, we can just leave.”
“Can’t do that, because I’m an adult. It’s like when you’re alone in the dark and you talk yourself into there being something in the room with you, but then you remember you’re not a kid, and you don’t get to be afraid of the dark any more.”
“Sometimes the dark does hide things. It’s a good instinct.”
“Yeah, remind me not to share childhood stories with you.”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“We don’t have to go in only to satisfy my curiosity, but if we do and you’re concerned, I can protect you.”
He laughed, and kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks, that’s sweet. Let’s just go in, I feel stupid worrying about a super-villain lair while overweight white guys are driving past me in Hondas.”
Dee buzzed past his head.
“Yeah, you too, c’mon.”
A glass entryway led to a reception desk manned by a portly man with a cloth version of a badge sewn into his shirt. Rick approached the desk to introduce them, but only got as far as his name before he was interrupted.
“Yes, we were told to expect you,” he said, with the perfunctory smile of a man whose job didn’t depend on his courtesy seeming genuine. He placed two plastic VISITOR badges on the counter. “Have a seat, someone will be down to fetch you in a minute.”
He pointed them to a lounge area defined only by furniture that, when used, turned out to be much too firm to be truly comfortable.
“It’s like I’m here for a job interview,” Rick said with a smile. “Weird how these places make a person feel as if they don’t belong.”
“I feel like that nearly everywhere,” she said. “Is this protocol normal?”
“For a secure building? Sure. I think it’d be weird if we were just told to head on up somewhere.”
They waited on the couch for a time, as employees, dressed in variations of the business-casual she’d seen so often in the marketplace, passed by on the way to their cars.
Presently, a woman in a skirt suit with thick legs and spiky short hair approached. Like the security guard and everyone else who’d walked past, she appeared to be a human.
“Hi, I’m Margaret? I’m here to take you down.”
Everyone shook hands.
“We were expecting Dr. Marks,” Rick said.
She nodded and gave a smile only slightly warmer than the one the man at the desk had for them. It was broad, but never reached her eyes. Eve decided she didn’t like her.
“I’m only supposed to bring you down,” Margaret said, “but I expect he’s already here. The meeting’s about to start.”
Rick glanced at Eve. He looked modestly uncomfortable about this arrangement and appeared to be looking for permission to proceed. She felt similarly discomfited, but was still more curious than concerned. She gave him a tiny nod.
“Sure, of course,” he said to their host. “Lead on.”
Dee buzzed along as they walked, either unnoticed or ignored by everyone else: surprising only in that Marks had invited her as well. Rick opened his shirt pocket and made a silent waving gesture he’d trained the pixie to recognize. She flew into the pocket and settled in. He closed his light jacket to disguise the tiny bulge she made.
Rick shrugged, as if to say I don’t know how this happened but I own a pixie now. Eve nearly laughed.
Margaret brought them to a bank of elevators, choosing a specific one that required she wave a plastic card over a panel with a red light before the door would open. Eve noted with some curiosity that the other elevators didn’t have any kind of panel. It was perhaps unsurprising, then, that their elevator went down instead of up.
“Whoa,” Rick said. “Didn’t expect that.”
“Yes, the sub-levels can be a shock,” Margaret said. “It’s where we do the things that aren’t in the company brochures. Most people here never get a chance to see this part of the facility.”
“What sort of things?” Eve asked.
“Oh well… I shouldn’t say. I assumed… never mind, don’t mind me. I’m just supposed to bring you to the room.”
“Sounds ominous,” Rick said.
“Wasn’t supposed to, sorry. It’s an ordinary old conference room.”
“Not the room part, the other part.”
“I didn’t mean to imply anything terrible. It’s the clientele that’s the secret, if you understand my meaning.”
The elevator stopped and dinged, announcing their arrival at sub-level C, and the doors slid open.
Ahead of them was a long corridor, well lit and not particularly unpleasant-looking save for the part where it was underground and starved of any natural lighting.
It reminded Eve of a crypt: a very bright crypt, but a crypt nonetheless.
Rick seemed to be sharing in her unease.
“Tell me again where we’re going?” he asked.
“Oh, just down to the end of the hall. Come on.”
Margaret led them out of the elevator. They followed, reluctantly, and perhaps only because no other options were presented.
“I know,” Margaret said as they walked, “the first time I came down here I was a little creeped out. We tried to brighten it up, but I think there’s only so much you can do. We put some plants in the hall a couple of times, but they kept dying and that just made it worse. It’s like the body can sense when it’s below the ground. It’s always chilly too. Do you feel it?”
“I do,” Eve said. “It’s unpleasant.”
“I know. But, you know, you get used to it.”
“Tell me, do a lot of people work down here?”
“Not a lot, no,” Margaret said. “There are more labs than scientists, I’ll be honest. But we’re still building out.”
The corridor was bringing them past glass doors which themselves led to other internal corridors. At each door was a set of pegs from which hung identical white cloth coats. They were laboratories, Eve decided, and these were protective garments.
It called into question Rick’s concern that no real science was being performed in this facility. Eve didn’t know exactly what real science was versus any other kind, but active laboratories seemed like a strong positive indic
ator. Although she didn’t know what they were working on, and couldn’t be certain that the same set-up would or wouldn’t be required in a place where holistic vitamins were manufactured.
Ahead, the corridor ended at a set of steel doors with rubberized seals on their borders. The doors were the full height of the corridor.
“What’s in there?” Rick asked. “Is that where we’re going?”
“No, no,” Margaret said. “That’s a storage room. We’re over here, last room on the left.”
There were wooden double-doors to the left and the right. They were neither see-through glass like the ones behind nor steel like the ones in front. It was very much the sort of entrance one might expect of a conference room.
When Rick saw Margaret pull out keys to unlock the door, he made the obvious observation.
“So I guess they aren’t here ahead of us.”
“Who’s that?”
“The doctors we’re here to meet. Because you’re unlocking that door there, so…”
“Well you might be the first ones here after all!” She turned from Rick. “So, you’re Eve, right?”
It was a confusing question.
“I am.”
“I mean, the Eve. We’ve heard a lot about you, that’s all.”
And then all the lights in the corridor went out.
Hands grabbed Eve from behind—how did she not notice someone behind her?—and she was lifted and pushed forward so fast she lost her footing and fell awkwardly onto a rough carpet.
She heard Rick call out in alarm, and then a muffled thump, and then nothing.
A door lock was engaged.
The lights came back.
She was on her knees in a conference room. A large wood table rested in the center, surrounded by leather chairs. Glass rectangles were hung along the walls, one every few feet. Televisions, she assumed.
Only one or two things can sneak up on me, she thought. There are non-humans in this building.
She got to her feet. The doors she’d been shoved through—the conference room doors Margaret had opened—were now closed, and a quick check verified they were indeed locked again.
Immortal Stories: Eve Page 8