EXPERIMENT

by Cyma Rizwaan Khan

  “Oh my God,” Natalie said. “A virus outbreak just happened on Anzoft? There has to be an explanation, right? Someone must have wanted to do this.”

  Lane debated whether he was supposed to give her the information he had.

  “Who could benefit from killing millions of humanoids?” Natalie said.

  “One specie comes to mind.”

  “You think the Khaltars could have done this?”

  Lane looked at the victims of the ‘special flesh eating virus’ that were so gruesome he had to look away. “It’s either that or some very sick bastard trying to get his rocks off.”

  Natalie turned off the TV. “I can’t stand this,” she said. “What the hell is happening to the world?”

  Lane held her hand, wanting to say something that could help, but he couldn’t think of anything. So he just stood there, silent until Natalie spoke up again. “You know sometimes I want to run away so bad,” she said. “Like, just go somewhere where none of this is happening.”

  “So why don’t you?”

  “Because there is no such place,” she said, and turned to him. “Have you ever wanted to run away?”

  “Well,” Lane said. “I had a girlfriend. We were always making plans to go someplace far away, and for a while I was really looking forward to it.”

  “You had a girlfriend?”

  “Seems like a million years ago now.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Lane wondered which side of Arianna he was supposed to show, the one he had known or the one who had betrayed him after he had been sent away. “She was nice,” he said. “She got me, you know? Or at least I thought she did.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, she kind of betrayed me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Lane said. “I’m not sure I could have dealt with having a girlfriend after what happened.” It was a lie, and he didn’t know why he was saying it. Probably to show Natalie he wasn’t really as messed up over Arianna as he really was.

  “Still, it must have hurt.”

  Lane had spent weeks just not being able to get out of bed when he had first found out. He was about to say something when the door opened again and this time it was Shay. “Your turn,” she said to Lane and tossed him a set of keys. “I’m off for the day. You need to feed him, I’ve taken care of everything else.”

  “Okay thank you,” Lane said, getting off the table, waiting for Shay to leave before he turned to Natalie. “Guess I have to go.”

  “Thank you for the company.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lane said, walking up to the door. “Just don’t spend too much time thinking.”

  *

  Lane opened the door to the cell, and went inside. He locked the door and safely stored the keys away inside his pocket. Parker was tied up in the same chair that they had tied him up since they brought him here a week ago. But no amount of trying to get him to talk had worked. Major Rick had been angry ever since. “Hello Parker,” Lane said, taking the water over to the man. “How’re you doing today?”

  “You think you’re being cocky?” Parker said. “You think because you have me tied down here that you can act smug all you want?”

  Lane stood right in front of him, holding up the glass of water. “Drink this,” he said. “Then I’ll bring you some food.”

  “You’re fighting a losing war,” Parker said. “You’re wasting your time here, kid. You want to see some real grown-up action, join the Zyre movement. Don’t be on the losing side.”

  “Just drink the fucking water.”

  Parker went quiet and Lane brought the glass close to his lips, but before Parker took a sip Lane felt the man’s hands reaching for the knife tucked away in a dagger rig on Lane’s waist and Lane dropped the glass and tried to stop him but Parker had caught him unexpected. Lane walked back a few steps and Parker waved the knife in his face. “Hand me the keys,” he said. “And I won’t have to hurt you.”

  Lane stared at the knife in Parker’s hand, and knew he needed to reach for his gun. But it was preferable if he could do it without Parker attacking him or throwing the knife at him first.

  “Come on,” Parker said, stepping closer to Lane. “You’re a smart kid. Hand me the keys or I will have to kill you.”

  Parker was coming towards him, constantly decreasing the distance that stood between them and Lane had no choice but to reach for the gun, and as expected, Parker lunged at him and Lane was on the floor, the gun dropped far away from his reach. Lane tried to struggle away from Parker’s hold on him and Parker stabbed him once in the chest. Ignoring the pain, Lane reached for the dropped gun, and Parker tried to stop him by taking a stab at him again, but Lane blocked the stab with his arm, and though the knife shed blood all over him, it wasn’t a dangerous spot, and Lane pushed Parker off himself, kicked him a few times and went over to where the gun was still lying on the ground. Lane picked it up, cocked it and saw Parker preparing to attack him again and he fired three shots, one after another.

  *

  Parker was on the floor, not moving which could only mean one thing. In slow motion, the moment he had taken the three shots and lodged those bullets in Parker’s chest, came back to him and everything around him went silent for a little while, as though his ears were filled with smoke. When the smoke cleared, Lane heard someone faintly calling out his name and then it dawned on him that someone was banging the cell door. The sound of the gunshots must have alarmed people on the upper floors and they were asking him to open the door. Lane stared at his bloody fingers, which still held the gun and let it drop to the floor. He searched for the keys in his pocket, and his fingers were trembling so bad it was difficult to make them work, and he wasn’t sure he could speak. Finally, when he managed to unlock the door, Barron rushed in and took one look at the scene. “Lane?” he said. “Are you okay?”

  Lane wanted to say something but the smoke had started to fill his ears again and his legs felt weak so he held on to Barron for support…

  *

  Natalie’s face was looking down at him when he woke up in the infirmary an hour later. “Welcome back,” Natalie said.

  “What happened?”

  “Parker stabbed you,” Natalie said. “Don’t you remember?”

  The gunshots going into Parker’s chest, that sound, of something popping, probably Parker’s insides. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but Parker had forced him. Did he? Did he really force you, Lane? You could have aimed for his leg. But no, you decided to kill him instead. You wanted to kill him. “What…uh…what time is it?”

  “It’s almost midnight.”

  “Lane?” Lane heard Connor’s voice and recognized it immediately. “I came here as fast as I could. What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing,” Lane said, and tried to get up, but the world spun around him and he gave up.

  “He got stabbed,” Natalie informed Connor. “Twice. But he’s going to be fine.”

  Connor looked angry of course, but he kept his anger in check. “Sure he’s okay?” he asked, looking at Lane’s face.

  “Here,” Natalie handed Connor two bottles of prescription pills. “Post meal, every day for a week. I’ve given him the first dose,” she turned to Lane. “Just relax and get some sleep. Let your body heal for a few days.”

  “Thanks Natalie,” Connor said. “Come on, Lane. Let’s go.” Connor had to take his brother’s help to get up and when he got off the bed, he was afraid he was going to fall. But somehow, with Connor’s help he made it out the door.

  *

  “Go on say it,” Lane said, when they were in Connor’s car driving home.

  “Say what?”

  “The ‘I told you so’ speech, Connor. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

  “So you think that’s what I’m doing?” Connor said. “I’m just waiting for you to get stabbed so I can give you a speech?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No
, it is exactly what you meant Lane. And I’m sick of you always insinuating that my life revolves around you fucking up.”

  “I don’t know how Parker got free of the handcuffs,” Lane said. “He surprised me, it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Why are you telling me that?”

  “I’m saying this was a one-time thing,” Lane said. “It’s not going to happen again, I’ll make sure of it.”

  “You don’t know that,” Connor said. “You can’t possibly promise me something that you have no control over. These things happen.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Connor slammed his feet on the brakes, and the car came to a stop. He banged his hands on the steering wheel, and for a minute Lane thought his brother was going to lose it but then he started to compose himself. “You don’t…you don’t get it Lane,” he said. “I’m just…I’m sick…I’m sick of having to always worry about you man! Today it was a stabbing gone wrong, I’m afraid to get a phone call that tells me you got shot in crossfire or something like six other people before you, and then what? I spend the rest of my life trying to figure out if I could have stopped it? If I’d been a better brother or something, that it might not have happened? You have any idea how exhausting that is?”

  It was the first time Lane felt sorry for his brother. “Connor, you’re the best brother anyone could ever hope to find,” he said. “And I thought you already knew that.”

  “So why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Joining the army? Going on those missions? Getting fucking stabbed?”

  “I’m not doing it to hurt you, Connor. I’m doing it because I believe in the cause.”

  “The cause?” Connor said. “Kevin asked you to join ‘the cause’ two years ago and you told him you weren’t a revolutionary. You don’t follow current affairs, you don’t even watch the news, Lane! So what is this sudden obsession you have with this cause anyway?”

  “Stop it,” Lane said. “Stop saying the word ‘cause’ like you’re making fun of it. It’s not a joke to me.”

  “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “What the hell am I talking about?” Lane said, raising his voice. “I went to hell and back, and you still expect me to be the same person, Connor!”

  “So you admit that’s why you’re doing it? Because you want to be on some suicidal mission? Come on, Lane that’s textbook returnee behavior.”

  “Don’t. Don’t even try to assume for one second that you know me or that you have the slightest fucking clue what happened to me in there. Don’t make me some returnee stereotype!”

  “Lane—”

  “You sit there in that big home and you drink your expensive booze and you tell yourself you’re too good to be part of a resistance group, and you think you know for a second what real pain is? I’ve seen what pain can do to you, how it…cripples you from inside. They break you and then build you back up, and then they break you back down again, and they do this, over and over again. You’re not dead, but you’re not exactly alive either. So you really want to know what I think? I think this cause is our only way out. It’s the only way we can shut down this rotten system that does nothing but torture people who don’t deserve it, and we need to pull this government apart. Jace is the future, Connor. He’s the future that I want, and that millions of people on this planet need, even if they can’t actually see it yet. So don’t ever try to tell me who I am, because trust me, you have no idea.”

  When Lane saw that Connor was still listening he started speaking again. “The Khaltar ships landed on Anzoft bases a few hours ago,” he said.

  “There was nothing on the news.”

  “It was our intel.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “We knew it was happening,” Lane said. “Our undercover agents told us about the virus. We were expecting the breakout and we tried to warn their military but they wouldn’t listen to some lousy resistance group.”

  “Still don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

  “Eth’s solar system is dying. That means the population of three whole planets needs to be relocated.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Where do you think the Khaltars are going to go when that happens?” Lane said. “They need habitable planets. Terraforming will take years, they can’t afford that kind of time.”

  “Are you saying that’s what they might do to Zyron?”

  “The world is on the brink of destruction Connor, and you’re afraid that you weren’t a good enough role-model?” Lane said. “You really need to get over yourself.”

  *

  ZYRON REGION-ONE

  Lane peeled the bloody shirt off himself, taking care not to reach too high. The pain killers were taking care of the pain for now, but he had no intention of tearing the sutures. He took off the rest of his clothes and tossed them aside, stepped into the shower. He turned on the dial until a soft stream of water poured out. The bandages were water proof but he knew he shouldn’t be staying in the shower too long. The water might give him some serenity and he was badly in need of it. He tried to think about Natalie. Somehow thinking about her always gave him a sense of peace, even if it was temporary. Even today, when he saw her, first thing when he woke up, he felt a little secure in the knowledge that she was there.

  He felt a little weak, placed one hand against the wall for support and saw the blood.

  The tiled floor was covered in red, and there was a strange dripping sound that came to his ears despite the sounds of the shower. “Shit,” he said, and turned off the water. Looked for any signs that he was bleeding, but the bandages were still intact, the one on his arm and the one on his chest. He walked up to the full-length mirror, checked his body for any other kind of damage. He looked at the floor and it was fine. Not covered in dark red water, but beige like the tiles. He was about to figure out what was happening, when he felt someone shoving him against the wall. In the next few seconds their hands were on Lane’s throat, choking him and Lane was running out of air. The face that loomed above him had rotten skin on one side and the other side was completely smooth. He recognized the face, used his hands to pry those fingers off his neck, but Vel’s fingers felt glued to his skin. “I turned you into this,” Vel said. “You were a miserable excuse for a person. A loser who couldn’t even take care of himself. Those things I did to you, I did it because I wanted you to be a man for once.”

  “Please—” Lane managed, but it seemed like Vel’s fingers tightened around his neck even more.

  “I thought the fun was over when your brother broke you out,” Vel said. “But the fun, sweetheart, is just beginning.” And then Vel used the same hold on his neck to push Lane across the tiles and shoved him into a corner. And even though Lane felt the fear that he always felt around Vel, at least he could breathe.

  “I’m going now Lane,” Vel said, and Lane didn’t even look up him. He had no intention of seeing that face, even more disgusting now because of the rotting flesh. “But you know I’ll be back.”

  Lane closed his eyes, huddled in that same corner, wishing for this nightmare to be over.

  *

  Connor finally broke his staring contest with the phone and dialed Mekha’s number. She didn’t answer. Disappointed, Connor placed his phone on the nightstand, but then the phone started beeping. It was her. “Hi.”

  “Are you alright?” Mekha asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  There was silence on the other end and Connor held the phone close to his ear. After a while Mekha spoke up again. “What do you want, Connor?”

  “Is it too late to apologize?”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  “I kept thinking who I’d miss if I was dying,” Connor said. “And you’re the one I’d miss besides Lane.”

  “What about Kevin?”

  “I’d miss him too.”

  “What’s your point?”
>
  “I thought to myself, if you’re the one person that I’d miss so badly, why am I not calling you and doing everything in my power to make you forgive me.”

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Lane says the world is ending.”

  “What? Why would he say such a thing?”

  “What if he’s right?” Connor said. “What if we’re on the brink of extinction and don’t even know it?”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No.”

  “It sounds like you’re drunk.”

  “Every day I wake up and you’re on my mind,” Connor said. “I go to sleep and the same thing. I could be working or I could be wasting time with Kevin and you’re all I can think about. And I thought I was angry at myself for feeling that, for needing you so bad. But then I realized I was only angry because I couldn’t find the right words to tell you. Does that make any sense?”

  “Seriously how drunk are you?”

  “It took me ages to come up with the courage to say this, so don’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m not making fun of you,” Mekha said. “I just know that this isn’t you, Connor. Whatever it is that made you want to talk to me now, it might be over by the time I let you in my life again.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Connor,” Mekha said. “You might think you love me, and in your own way you probably do, but this is not who you are. Who you are is someone who’s dying to do something. The riots and everything we did for my father, you’ve got all that guilt inside you and you can try not to think about it, but eventually you’re going to have to face it.”

  “I just feel like I need to do something.”

  “Well you do,” Mekha said. “And that’s not a bad thing. You have to be a man on a mission, Connor. You can’t live a life of just being on the sidelines.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Do you believe in the cause?”

  “How’s that important?”

  “Do you believe in it or not?”

  “I don’t know.”