by Andrea Ring
“Not impressed? How about this?”
I slice open the skin next to my pinkie finger. Then I grow a sixth finger out of the opening. Calyx flinches at the sound of bone grinding and tissue mending.
I grab a tissue from the counter and wipe off a few drips of blood. Then I wiggle my new finger at them.
“You fucking grew a finger,” Calyx murmurs, his eyes riveted to my hand. Then he meets my gaze. “A fucking finger.”
“I can grow any body part,” I tell him. “I also produce a protein that allows me to grow cells in the central nervous system. I can repair a damaged spinal cord, or heal brain injuries.”
“You can do this on others? Use the protein on other people?”
“Yes. And if someone else needed this finger I just grew, I could cut it off and attach it to them. Perfectly. No nerve damage, no rejection.”
Calyx stands and approaches me. He holds out his hand.
I place my six-fingered one in his.
He pinches my new appendage. He pulls on it. He flips my hand over and examines the finger from every angle.
“This isn’t a trick,” he says.
“No.”
He sits back down and wipes his sweaty brow.
“Why am I here? You don’t need me, and you both know it.”
“Actually,” Kenneth says, standing, “this isn’t our only area of research. Thomas will be the lynchpin for our genetic engineering and stem cell research. And he will be a cash cow, as you intimated. But we have another area we want to focus on, and the results are not as certain. We want funding for that area as well. Jack?”
Jack opens the door on cue and walks in. She shakes Kenneth’s hand and stands beside him.
“This is Jacqueline Van Zandt, Jack, sister to Thomas, and also a Dweller. She has the unique ability to see souls.”
One of the attorneys giggles, and Calyx gives him a quelling look.
Jack and I have been experimenting these past few weeks.
I take my knife and cut Jack’s palm. Then I cut my own and hold her hand in mine.
“I’m now going to hook in to Jack’s brain,” I say. “Basically, I grow some nerves, trace them up to her brain, and connect to it. This allows me to access all of Jack’s abilities. As soon as I’m hooked up, my soul will be visible. You’ll be able to see what Jack sees.”
“You’re telling us we’re going to see your soul?” the giggling attorney scoffs.
“Yes. Are you ready?”
No one replies, but I don’t expect them to. I make my connections to Jack’s brain, and the four men cry aloud.
Calyx actually scoots back in his chair, trying to get some distance from my now-shining aura.
“What the fuck is that?” he says.
“You’re seeing Thomas’s soul,” Jack says. “Every soul is unique in its color and brilliance. The gold you see here indicates that Thomas is righteous to the extreme. The gold is edged in purple, indicating a tendency for his righteousness to be tempered by practicality to a small degree.”
“How do we know this isn’t some light show?” the youngest attorney asks.
“If I were projecting a light on myself,” I say, “you would see the source of that light. None of this light comes from without. You can see that my soul is projecting from within my body. The light is literally bursting outward.”
“But you’ve already told us you can manipulate your body,” he says. “Maybe you’ve implanted some kind of light source.”
“That’s an interesting idea, Mr. Curtis,” I say. “Perhaps we can try this experiment on you. Would you like to see your soul?”
His eyes go round, and then they narrow. “You spoke about ethics a moment ago. I fail to see how it would be ethical to try your Frankenstein experiments on me.”
“Suit yourself,” I say with a shrug. “And this is not an experiment. This is more like a medical procedure. It’s completely sterile and risk-free. I kill any foreign bodies, my blood will not mingle with yours, and you will be healed perfectly afterward. But I’m not here to recruit you. I’m here to demonstrate.”
Calyx stands. “You’d be hooking into our brains, you said. Can you read our thoughts?”
“If I choose to.”
“What about our memories?”
“Again, if I choose to.”
“Will you promise to choose not to?”
“I will,” I say, “but Mr. Calyx, let me caution you that everyone in the room will see your soul. They will see the color, the brightness…perhaps something will be revealed that you do not wish to be revealed.”
He grins. “I think I know myself pretty well. This will just confirm what I already know. I have my faults, but hiding my true character isn’t one of them.”
He holds out his hand. I pass him my knife.
“Make a shallow cut about an inch long. It will hurt, of course, but I will deaden the nerve signals as soon as I connect to you. You’ll feel no pain at that point.”
Calyx nods. He makes a confident slice in the center of his palm and grips my free hand.
“Holy shit, you’re blue, Chris!” Mr. Curtis yells.
“And purple and pink and red,” Calyx says. “I’m a fucking rainbow. What does it all mean, Jack?”
“The royal blue is ambition, as you might have guessed,” she says with a smile. “Pink is romantic, or sentimental. Red indicates a bit of a victim status. I sense you’ve been wronged and seek to punish those who have hurt you.”
“I’m not a victim, and I’ve never seen myself as one,” he says. “The rest I concede, but that’s just…ridiculous!”
“Soul reading is open to interpretation, isn’t it, Jack?” I prompt.
“In this case, no.”
A vein throbs in Calyx’s temple, and he tries to pull his hand from mine, but I hold tight.
“Whoa, there,” I say. “Don’t do that. I’m literally hooked into your brain. Let me dissolve the connections. I don’t want them yanked out.”
“Do it now,” he says through gritted teeth.
I back out and heal us, releasing his hand.
He examines it closely, then rubs it on his slacks. He sits carefully in his chair.
“The research and your abilities are impressive,” he says slowly, “but the soul stuff is a bunch of bullshit. I’m not interested in funding it. If you exclude the crusading lawsuits and the soul crap, I’m interested. Send Mr. Baldwin here a proposal by the end of the day.” He stands, fingering his tie nervously. “Good day.”
And he walks out without shaking our hands, his attorneys following like lemmings in his footsteps.
***
I disconnect from Jack and heal us.
Kenneth sighs and claps a hand on my shoulder. “You did what you could do. I guess we just have to wait and see how this plays out.”
“I’ll be right back,” Jack says. “Thomas, can you join me?”
Kenneth and I raise eyebrows at her, Kenneth shrugs, and I follow Jack at a brisk pace out to the parking lot. Calyx is standing next to his custom Escalade talking with his attorneys.
“Mr. Calyx?” Jack says, jogging up to him. “Just a moment.”
Calyx turns to us, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“What we didn’t get a chance to tell you is that I can also, well, on every soul is written the time and manner of its death.”
Calyx doesn’t move. His facial expression is frozen in disapproval.
Jack sighs. “What I’m trying to say is, please don’t get on the plane this afternoon. It’s going to crash.”
Calyx still doesn’t move.
“I can’t see why the crash occurs…I don’t know if it’s engine failure or a kamikaze pilot or…now that I’ve told you, you might get on a different plane, and that’s the plane that will crash…but all I know is that you will die at 6:32 PM, in a plane crash.”
“Of all the ludicrous, self-serving things to say—” Mr. Curtis yells, but Calyx waves a hand and he shuts up.
/> “This happens to be exactly the opposite of self-serving,” I say. “The only way to prove what Jack says is true is to have the plane crash, in which case Mr. Calyx will be dead, and he won’t be investing in Planarian. If he grounds the plane, we’ll never know.”
“I’m taking a commercial flight,” Calyx says. “I don’t have the slightest clout to ground the plane.”
“Well, just not getting on it may change things,” I say. “Jack looks like a complete nut telling you this, even though she’s predicted hundreds, thousands of deaths, and she’s always been right. She saved my father a few months ago. You should listen to her.”
Calyx removes a pair of Ray Bans from his jacket pocket and slips them on. “Thanks for the warning. I need to make my flight to New York.”
“Please, Mr. Calyx,” Jack says. “Please. Fly tomorrow. One day won’t make a big difference.”
Calyx doesn’t say another word. He waves his attorneys into their seats, opens his car door, and steps inside. Jack and I back away to the edge of the lot and watch him drive away.
***
A tear slips down Jack’s cheek.
“You tried,” I say, putting an arm around her. “That’s all you can do.”
“I’m fucking sick of this,” she whispers. “Sick of trying and failing. Sick of feeling like every move I make is futile.”
“Saving Dad wasn’t futile,” I say. “Even if you never save anyone else, you did save one life. And that’s an amazing thing.”
She rubs her eyes hard. “Taking this job was a mistake. People don’t believe what they can’t see. I’m spitting in the wind.”
“You’re wrong,” I say. “Every day, people put their faith in things they can’t see. Most people believe in God.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not running a church, or I’d have exactly three people sitting in the pews. I can’t even persuade people to save their own lives.”
“You don’t have to convince anyone of anything. We’re going to figure out how the soul is anchored to the body, and we’re going to formally decode the colors of the aura and the death readings. Maybe we can figure out how to keep the body alive if the soul moves on. Maybe we can figure out how to see and communicate with souls that have moved on. We’re researchers, Jack, not cult leaders.”
She sighs. “But again, if we can’t convince people, the research will be useless.”
“I think the problem is that you’ve been trying to tell people something they don’t want to hear. Someday, the ones who want the knowledge will come to us. Completely different outcome at that point. But let me ask you something.”
Jack nods glumly.
“Dad is really the first person you’ve been able to save, right?”
“Yes.”
“Has anyone else believed you and tried to save themselves? Even one person?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve tried to intervene. I’ve had a doctor standing by, I’ve tried to delay their departure to avoid the time of death, but something always happens. Something…”
Jack lifts her head and stares at the park across the street. Two teenagers are tossing a frisbee back and forth, shouting and laughing at one another. A young girl and her dad are trying to fly a kite in the windless air.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“I’ve never flown a kite,” she whispers. “My dad, the one I grew up with, he didn’t do stuff like that with me. If he wasn’t working and he actually spent time with me, we’d visit museums or galleries.”
“Dad wasn’t around much, either,” I say. “But we can do things differently with our own kids. We can take them to the park together.”
“Not if I’m here,” she says.
I put my back to the park and look at her. “Then what are you doing here, Jack? You don’t have to work. Go home and fly kites, and bake cookies, and read stories. Being a mom to nineteen extraordinary children is the most important work you’ll ever do.”
“I guess I just need to know that my abilities are worthwhile, that I’ve been doing the right thing. Seeing souls is a part of every moment of my life that my eyes are open. I can’t turn it off, not completely, not from my eyes, and not from brain, and not from my heart. It’s been such a burden, and to have the opportunity to unburden myself…I couldn’t pass it up.”
“Maybe you’re just not ready,” I say. “You have a lifetime to figure it all out. But your kids are only young once.”
She stares at the park again. “Christopher Calyx is going to die in a few hours.”
“What exactly was the reading?”
“At 6:32 PM, he will die in a plane crash. That’s it. Straightforward.”
“And if he doesn’t get on a plane, what then?”
“Maybe a plane will crash into his house.”
“That would be such a stroke of bad luck,” I say.
Jack laughs. “When is death ever about anything but bad luck?”
We stroll back inside, and Jack grabs her purse.
“Thanks for the talk, Thomas.”
“Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
“I have to help with the research in some capacity,” she says. “I just…have to. But you’re right. The kids are more important. Six o’clock tomorrow night, right?”
I nod. “We’ll be there.”
“And have you chosen a name for X yet?”
“Not yet.”
“But the naming ceremony is tomorrow!”
I laugh. “We’ll figure it out. It’s kind of tough when the kid you’re trying to name thinks he should be called Braveheart.”
Jack bursts out with a genuine laugh. “Seriously?”
“We’ve been told that Avenger or Flash are also acceptable.”
“Oh, God, my stomach’s gonna be sore tomorrow from laughing so hard,” she says. “We’re blessed, aren’t we?”
I give her a hug. “We are.”
Chapter Nineteen
I’m drowning in paperwork.
Kenneth and Kate and I consult on the proposal for Calyx, even though he probably won’t be alive to read it, and then I have a journal article deadline to meet, research notes to transcribe, and several letters requesting medical consultations to answer. Phooey. I need an assistant.
At six, I finally pack up and head to my car.
Calyx’s Escalade is parked in our handicap spot. He meets my eye and exits his SUV.
“So you didn’t get on the plane,” I say.
“Nope. But I can’t quite figure out why.”
“You believed us,” I say. “Jack had no way of knowing you were supposed to fly today. Not too difficult to figure out.”
“I have,” and he looks at his watch, “about twenty-five minutes left. What happens now?”
“I don’t know. A plane could crash into the building you’re in. It’s not always as straightforward as it seems.”
“But I’m going to die? No matter what?”
I shuffle my feet. “All I know is that Jack is never wrong. She predicted my dad’s death, but I was there to save him. That’s the only death we’ve been able to avert.”
“Name your price, then,” he says.
“What? You want to pay me to save you?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “If you have a heart attack right now, I’ll save you regardless.”
“I’d feel better knowing you had a little extra motivation.”
I smile at him. “You saw my soul. I always try to do the right thing, Mr. Calyx. Even if I don’t particularly like you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And why do you dislike me?”
“You made my sister feel like shit. She went out of her way to help you and you weren’t one bit grateful. Plus you made her feel like a fool.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“And you made a stink about your aura when we both know Jack was right on. Something more than ambition drives you. But again, you dismissed her as though she
were crazy.”
Calyx sighs. “If I make it through the next twenty minutes, I’ll apologize.”
Twenty minutes. Holy shit.
“Right. Let me call my wife. Then I’ll call Jack. Are you married?”
He nods. “My wife’s at home. You’re married?”
I dial Tessa. “Yep. Two kids, too.”
He shakes his head.
“Call her,” I say. “This may be your last conversation.”
I feel a bit bad for being so blunt, but we only have twenty minutes to get ready. I wander a few cars over into the lot to give him privacy.
“Hey,” I say when Tessa picks up. “I’m gonna be late.”
I can hear pots and pans clink. “Should we wait on you for dinner?”
“No. Remember I told you earlier that Jack said Christopher Calyx was gonna die tonight in a plane crash, and he was getting on the plane anyway?”
“Yes,” she says slowly.
“Well, he didn’t get on the plane. It’s about fifteen minutes until his time of death.”
“And let me guess. He’s at Planarian with you.”
“Yep.”
Tessa is silent.
“I won’t let this turn into another three-month coma. I promise. But if there’s anything I can do, I have to do it.”
“Go,” she says. “Do it. Just be safe. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Kiss the kids for me.”
I click off and face the park, tuning in to Calyx’s conversation. I watch a man with a large backpack throw a ball to his dog.
“I have to go. Yes, the meeting’s starting, but just know…I want you to know how much I love you…yes, it’s me, damn it,” and then he laughs. “I know I don’t say it enough. That’s why I’m calling. You deserve to hear me say it…okay, I will…love you, too.”
I quickly call Jack.
“Get back to Planarian. Bring Tyrion. Calyx is here.”
“What?”
“Fifteen minutes, give or take. I’ll call Erica and Dad right now to stay with the kids.”
“Got it. Bye.”
I call Dad and tell him to hightail it to Jack and Tyrion’s. He and Erica go. I love my family in a crisis.
“What now?” Calyx asks. “Should we go inside?”