by R A Doty
“Can I ask you a question, Calla?” Colton said, his voice not quite as loud.
“Of course.”
“Do you have any idea what Bill Weston injected into April when the two of you were strapped to the tables?”
“I don’t. I just remember him saying something about how she will propel the human race to new levels.”
“How did she act after the injection?”
“She looked frightened, like she was panicking, but soon after she went to sleep.”
“I see.” Colton watched as April pulled book after book from the shelves. “And let me ask you one more thing. I know she caught on pretty quickly when you first started teaching her in the kennel, but does it seem as though she’s learning faster now?”
“I actually did notice that. When I first started teaching her colors and shapes, it took a few times for her to understand me. But now it’s as though she’s learning instantly and remembering everything. Is that something to be concerned about? Will she be all right?”
“She’ll be fine. I’m just trying to figure out what Weston injected into her.” Colton noticed it was much easier to tell the truth when you have nobody to talk to but yourself, but when you start to be around people again it seemed necessary to continuously tell those little white lies to protect other’s feelings. To be honest with himself, he was worried about April. If her intelligence had advanced to an increased rate, then it would only stand to reason that her physical rate of growth would also increase. If that happened, her internal organs, mainly her kidneys, could potentially age prematurely, thus limiting her lifespan. But before that happened, she would eventually begin to lose her intelligence. He turned to Calla. “Can you do me a favor and keep a close eye on April? Let me know immediately if she begins to act differently.”
“What do you mean, differently?”
“Well, if she starts to become forgetful, or doesn’t seem quite as intelligent. I only ask because it will help me to determine what course of action to take to counteract what Weston did to her.”
“I’ll definitely keep an eye on her. Why do you think she learns so fast?”
“I’m not quite sure, to be honest. Have you ever heard of a man named Albert Einstein?”
“Isn’t he that really smart guy with the crazy white hair from a long time ago?”
Colton smiled. “I suppose he is. He was also considered a genius. I’ve often wondered if he would have still been considered a genius if he was locked in a room his entire life with no one to ever speak to, and with no external stimuli from the outside world.”
“You mean like April?”
“Yes.”
They both watched as April walked back to the table with an armful of yet more books. The cover of the one on top adorned a smiling baby sitting on a blue blanket.
Chapter Thirty-One
CHIEF Officer Brodie poked his head in Bill Weston’s partially opened office door. “Excuse me, sir,” he said to Weston, who was staring at his computer monitor. “I just wanted to let you know we’re leaving for the mainland now.”
Weston immediately stood and walked over to Brodie. “Excellent. Keep me informed along the way. I want to know everything about your progress. The girl is very important to me and you have to bring her back.” He reached up and put his hand on Brodie’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you.”
“I won’t let you down, sir.”
“Do you still have her signal?”
Brodie pulled a device that looked like a walkie-talkie off his belt and stared at the screen. “We have a strong signal on both of the girls, sir. With any kind of luck, we should be back before sundown.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
TEN MINUTES AFTER LEAVING Bill Weston’s office, Chief Officer Brodie stepped onto a boat with five other men who were chosen to assist him in the search for the escaped girls. The side of the white boat was marked with the Ancada insignia, a large red “A” encompassed in a triangle. The boat hummed quietly away from the dock and steered for the mainland, picking up speed as it crossed the ocean. Brodie looked down at the device in his hand. Small waves of circles made a slight pinging sound as they flashed around two green dots; a larger red dot moving toward the two smaller ones. “It won’t be long now,” Brodie said.
EXACTLY two hours after leaving the Steinberg library, Calla located Colton in Steinberg’s lab. She rushed up to him. “Are the batteries charged?” Her entire body seemed to glow with excitement, either from being pregnant, as some say happens when a woman is carrying a child, or from anticipating what her real parents looked like. Both would probably be correct, considering the way she crowded next to Colton as he sat in the chair, studying the device that Cain had given him.
Colton squeezed the device’s trigger, but the screen barely lit up and then it went black. “I’m afraid not, Calla. These batteries require a much stronger power source than what we have available. They may charge eventually, but if they do it won’t be any time soon.”
The glow was still evident on Calla’s face, but her body went limp as the excitement vanished. “Do you have any idea how long it will take?”
“I’m afraid not. Could be a few days. Could be a few weeks, if they charge at all. I guess in this case we’ll have to live by the old adage: only time will tell. I’m sorry. I know how important this is to you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t know why I’m getting so excited anyway. It’s not like I’ll ever meet my real mother or father. And even if I did, they probably wouldn’t want me anyway. They’re probably living perfectly happy lives somewhere in Ancada. Why would they care if I were alive or not?” She walked toward the door and stopped before leaving. She turned back to Colton. “Thanks for trying, Cole.”
“Don’t give up hope, yet. I’ll keep working on it and hopefully have some good news for you, soon.”
Colton watched as she moseyed through the door and down the hallway. Why the hell did it break his heart to see her so sad, like he himself was suffering? He turned back to the device, wondering if there was something he was missing. But no matter how hard he thought, no other options to charge the batteries faster came to mind. Sometimes one has no choice but to wait. A thought did enter his mind, though. And it didn’t have anything to do with the device or its batteries. It was Ancada. He knew it’d be foolish to ignore the girl’s chips any longer, especially until the device was charged. But, for fear of damaging the chips, he didn’t want to remove them from the girls’ wrists until Calla found out what she needed to know. There had to be another way.
“Scramble the signal,” he said. He sprang from the chair and rushed to the door.
MONICA STOPPED WEARING jewelry after Josh had been taken from her. She had no desire to dress in anything stylish, either, or wear any kind of makeup at all. Not one bit of life was devoted to her anymore. So, she was more than willing to lend some of her bracelets to Calla and April when they and Colton asked. She didn’t even care if they borrowed the solid gold ones or the ones with the expensive gemstones. She led them to her bedroom and unlocked her jewelry chest, a freestanding mahogany cabinet with ornately carved legs. “Help yourself,” she said, spreading the doors wide open.
April walked up to the cabinet, which equaled her in height. Her eyes scanned the shimmering chains and colorful stones. Such an odd tradition to adorn oneself with such items, yet they were all so beautiful. She brushed her hand against the dangling chains. And then the rows of rings caught her eye, each wedged into a wall of black velvet. She plucked one from its spot and held it up to her face.
“April, don’t touch those, we’re looking for a bracelet,” Calla said.
“It’s fine,” Monica assured. “She can touch whatever she’d like. They’re beautiful aren’t they, April?”
April smiled with a nod.
“Here, let’s try it on,” Monica said, carefully taking April’s hand and slipping the ring onto her finger. “It fits perfectly. Do you like it?”
&
nbsp; April held her hand up and admired the small light blue stone against the golden bezel. She didn’t understand why, but it captivated her attention.
“You can keep it,” Monica said. “What about you, Calla. Is there anything that catches your eye?”
“I couldn’t,” Calla said.
“I insist. Now come here and take a look.”
Calla walked up to the cabinet and peered inside. She put her palm behind a silver crucifix, its matching chain resting on her hand. Such pain and sorrow on the face of the man attached to the cross. “Who is he?”
“Surely you know who Jesus Christ is,” Monica said. She reached in and removed the necklace. “Let’s see how it looks.” She unclasped the chain, placed it over Calla’s head, and reattached it behind her neck. She stepped back and looked at Calla. “It suits you well. Do you like it?”
“Very much,” Calla said with a nod.
“Consider it yours, then.”
“Thank you so much.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, honey. I’m just glad to see someone getting some use out of all this stuff. Now I believe you girls need some bracelets, as Colton mentioned.” She turned to Colton. “Is there anything in particular we should be looking for?”
“I think the term bracelet would be somewhat of an understatement. They need more of a band, as wide as possible to cover the chips in their wrists. Any metal would suffice.”
Monica opened a drawer toward the bottom of the cabinet. It was filled with exactly what Colton had described. She pulled one out and held it up. “These aren’t the prettiest, but I suppose they would do the job.” She put it back and stepped away from the cabinet. “Take your pick, girls.”
Calla and April rushed to the drawer. They each grabbed very different designs. Calla chose a silver one laced with filigree around the edges. April chose a golden band embossed with flowers and leaves. Her hand barely slipped inside of it as she pushed it over her wrist.
“Now there’s one more detail that has to be rectified,” Monica said. She closed the cabinet and looked at the girls. We need to find something a little more stylish for you to wear. I like white, but you look like you just escaped from an asylum. Follow me.” Monica led the girls to her walk-in closet and they spent the next hour trying on clothes. When they left the closet, they each had an armful of clothes. “All that’s left now is to find you a room.” Monica glanced at the girls as they walked down the hallway. “Do you mind sharing a bedroom?”
“Not at all,” Calla said. “I think we’d prefer it. Right, April?”
April nodded.
“Here we are,” Monica said. She opened a door and stepped inside. The girls followed. A queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room with an oak dresser against one of the walls. A night stand with a lamp sat next to the bed. Two windows facing the gate they entered the estate through were on the wall opposite the dresser. Nothing too fancy. A simple guestroom. “I’ll leave you girls alone and don’t worry, if you need anything Luke and Dan’s rooms are just across the hall.” She pointed to a door. “Feel free to hang whatever you’d like in the closet.
“Thank you so much,” Calla said.
“You’re welcome.”
Monica left and closed the door.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Calla said, heading straight for the closet to hang her clothes.
April dropped her clothes on the bed and walked over to the window. She had a clear view of much of the estate: the gate they entered, the massive vegetable garden, an assortment of barns and smaller buildings, and far in the distance she noticed a small pond in a meadow. It looked as though it was part of a dream. She wanted more than anything to walk to the pond and touch the water.
CHIEF Officer Brodie stared at the device in his hand, the signal still strong, the red dot steadily moving closer to the two green dots. The shoreline to the mainland was approaching fast. The green dots vanished and the pinging sound stopped. His brows furrowed. He tapped the device on the palm of the opposite hand and stared at the screen again. No green dots, just a large red one. He raced to the top deck and held the device in front of him. Still no green dots. “God dammit!” He stared at the mainland, the haystack in which he must find the needle.
A thought popped into Bill Weston’s head as he walked down the hallway. He wondered why he didn’t think of it sooner. Is there more? He took a sharp left and headed for the kennel where April was kept. If one slipped past, what are the odds another might? He punched a numeric code onto the keypad on the wall to the left of the door and the door opened. A woman stood in the center of the yard, hosing down the floor and diverting the water toward the chain-link fence. Weston walked up to her, slightly annoyed that she didn’t hear him entering. He wondered what the hell else is going on that she doesn’t notice. He tapped her on the shoulder. She gasped.
“You startled me, Mr. Weston. I wasn’t expecting company.”
A stern look crossed Weston’s face. His eyes squinted with anger. Although the nutrimen were locked in their pens, speaking was strictly forbidden. He took the woman by the arm and led her to the utility room. Once inside, he closed the door. “Did you not understand the rules of working in the kennel when you were first appointed this position, Hannah?”
“I understood them, sir.”
“Then why the hell are you speaking in the yard? Rule number one: no speaking in the vicinity of the nutrimen.”
“I’m sorry sir, but they were locked in their pens. And you caught me off guard. I guess I didn’t think.”
“No excuses are acceptable. You did hear what happened to Callarina Wilkinson, I presume?”
“I did, sir.”
“I can’t have that happen again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Weston stared at the woman. If there wasn’t a more urgent matter on his mind, he probably would have terminated her position on the spot. After a few seconds, an eternity for Hannah, he took a deep breath, shook his head, and exhaled. “I need a few minutes with the nutrimen. Why don’t you go take a break or something. Tell the office where I am and to hold my calls.”
“Yes, sir.” Hannah rushed from the utility room and left the kennel.
Weston paraded around the yard, stopping briefly at the door of each pen to stare at the nutrimen. Most were lying on their bunks, but some were walking in circles around the perimeter of the enclosure. How could you tell if they could speak by staring at them? He thought of April, the look in her eyes which made her seem more human than nutrimen. None he noticed, compared to her. They were just nutrimen. When he came to the last door he was startled to see a face staring back at him. A male. Approximately fifteen years of age, he thought. His dark hair somewhat scraggly and hanging in his face. He had the look in his eyes. He opened the door and the nutrimen backed up, its eyes still focused on Weston. It looked as if it wanted to speak. Weston waited, but no words came. He motioned for the male to follow him out of the room. It did. Weston led it to the utility room and closed the door. The male continued to stare, its eyes were piercing.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” Weston said.
The nutrimen stood silent.
Weston smiled. “You don’t seem shocked at the sound of my voice. As if it’s not the first time you’ve been spoken to. Is that correct?”
No response. Just unwavering eye contact.
“I’ve never met a nutrimen who didn’t have some kind of a reaction the first time they’ve heard a human voice. Granted, most hear it for the first time just before they’re..., well, let’s not get into that, but they always react to it. Most of them seem surprised, its head cocked to the side like a pet trying to figure out what its master is saying, but they always react in some way. That is, if it is indeed the first time. But you have no reaction. Which, you must understand, makes me think it’s not the first time you’ve heard a human voice.” Weston leaned back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze focused on the nutrimen.
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br /> “I’m sure you’re wondering what ever happened to April?”
The nutrimen’s breathing increased slightly.
Weston noticed. “She’s still alive, you know. I can take you to her.”
The breathing increased even more.
Weston stopped talking, studied the nutrimen. It wants to speak. Just give it time. Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Eyes locked. Neither wavering. “You can help her, you know. There would be no reason to keep her isolated if I knew there were more of you that could speak. Of course, I would have to keep you and her together and away from the others until I was certain there were no more. At that point, we would have to run a few tests and then find some other purpose for you outside of the kennels. You would obviously no longer be considered nutrimen, and we would have no choice but to set you free if you’d choose.”
Still no reaction from the nutrimen.
“Wouldn’t you like that? For April to be set free? For both you and April to be set free to do whatever you’d like in the world?”
The nutrimen’s hand twitched.
“Ahh, you would, wouldn’t you? All you have to do is ask, and I’ll take you to her.”
Weston waited. No reaction. A knock on the door.
Hannah opened the door. Weston looked at her. The nutrimen looked at Weston. Hannah motioned for Weston to step outside. He did, reluctantly.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he whispered.
“You have a call, sir.”
“I thought I said to hold all of my calls.”
“I know, sir. But I guess it’s pretty important. It’s from Chief Officer Brodie.”
Weston sighed heavily. Take the nutrimen back to his pen.”
Hannah took the nutrimen’s hand to lead him to his pen, but the nutrimen stopped just as Weston punched the numeric code on the keypad. With a slight smile, the nutrimen continued walking.