The massive steel gate opened to permit them into the compound. As it shut behind them and Will saw the normally beautiful, welcoming sight of home, he could only think that nothing could ever be normal again.
Chapter Twelve
As Malcolm parked the car, relief over being home warred with the desire to flee. He didn’t know how to do this. The person whose advice he’d seek was no longer with him. The home that welcomed him also held his family, who would have to be told of Kaleana’s death. They needed him, but he didn’t know how to be there for them. How could he possibly offer comfort and support when he didn’t know from one minute to the next if he could keep himself together? How could he tell the only people he’d ever loved that he’d left with Kaleana this morning but he couldn’t bring her home? Perhaps the problem would be taken out of his hands. He wouldn’t blame his Zeds if they didn’t trust him anymore.
Will’s hand covered his where it still clenched the steering wheel. Malcolm had no idea how many minutes they’d been parked. It couldn’t have been long. One of the boys would come looking for them soon. It was pure luck that Rufus wasn’t in the garage tinkering with one of the cars. Then again, he probably waited in solidarity with the others, passing the time together to alleviate their anxiety. If they had tried to call and not gotten through, that anxiety would have mounted. But Malcolm needed this time to gather himself, to come up with a plan.
“I’ll meet you in our room. Go on up. I’ll put the boys off,” Will said, his voice full of sympathy, support, and weary acceptance.
“No. I need to tell them. We can’t keep this from them, not for any length of time.”
“I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind—“
“It’s my responsibility.”
“There aren’t any responsibilities today, love.”
“Today is all about responsibilities. I’m fine.” Malcolm released the steering wheel. Blood tingled as it flooded into the cool tips of his fingers. He exited the car before Will could say anything else. Malcolm feared that if he put this off any longer, he’d lose what little nerve he had.
Will’s door slammed shut a split second after Malcolm’s. “The fact that you say that terrifies me. I’m not fine, and Kaleana wasn’t my lifetime companion.”
The image of Kaleana the day Malcolm met her flashed through his mind. Her youthful face had aged with grace. That image quickly morphed into the picture of her lying on the exam room table. He quickly shoved it away. If he entertained today’s memory too long, he feared it’d be the picture of her that filled his mind any time he thought of her in the future.
“Let me do this. Let me be there for them like I wasn’t for Kaleana. I promise, you’ll have me all to yourself tonight. I can’t fail at this.”
Will had walked around the car to join him, and Malcolm saw the wariness in his eyes. So much weight had been thrust onto Will’s shoulders. Not only had Kaleana, the first person who had ever cared for him, died, but it appeared Will had already taken on her duties in his head, as if he were singlehandedly responsible for seeing them all through this.
“Not only do we need to tell them, but we need their comfort. We can’t handle this alone, Will. I know you think I’m hiding. I’m not, or at least I’m trying not to. I promise.” He couldn’t lose himself within his mind as he had in the past, and he didn’t intend to. Losing Kaleana had the potential to devastate him. He couldn’t compound it by losing Will. Already he tried to adjust his mind, open it up to sharing his grief with Will even though every instinct told him to retreat and work out his feelings through physical pain.
Will stared into Malcolm’s eyes for a long moment and then nodded, his whole body visibly deflating in resignation. “You’re right. They need to know.”
“The sooner we do it, the sooner we can start to figure this all out.” Malcolm slipped his hand into Will’s and went inside. They walked slowly upstairs, each step a labor weighted down with dread. When they stepped onto the second floor, Nick waited for them.
“There you are! Syrus told us not to go down to the garage in case Will and Kaleana weren’t feeling up to talking, but I knew you’d want to see us.” Nick jabbered away as usual, seemingly unaware that anything was amiss.
Malcolm placed his free hand on Nick’s shoulder and waited until he had Nick’s full attention. “Go get the others for me and have them meet us in the lounge.”
Confusion and concern filled Nick’s eyes. “Everyone’s already in the lounge.”
“Good. We’ll be there in a minute.”
Nick took the cue and jogged ahead of them. Malcolm couldn’t handle his exuberance or his questions.
“If you need me to, I can tell them,” Will offered.
“Thank you, but I can do it.” He didn’t know the words he’d use, but he couldn’t foist this on Will. “I appreciate your support, but after I tell them, they’ll need us. Don’t worry about me. I’ll have you all to myself later.”
“I’m staying right here next to you.”
When they entered the lounge, everyone sat watching the door expectantly. Malcolm wondered how long they had waited together. It wouldn’t surprise him to learn that they’d spent the entire time together in solidarity. Malcolm sat in his usual spot with Will by his side and wondered if Nick had mentioned Kaleana’s absence. He might not have noticed. When he and Will were situated, everyone faced Malcolm with serious expressions. It reminded him of the last time they’d had a meeting like this, when he had told them of his work in the Spark of Life Movement. The only difference was the absence of Kaleana resting her hand on his knee.
“I’m sorry.” They were the first words that entered Malcolm’s mind.
“Where’s Kaleana?” Rufus asked, his deep voice wary in anticipation of the news to come.
“She’s not coming back. She died during the procedure.” Saying the words aloud caused him physical pain, a constriction in his chest, as if the weight of the loss crushed his insides. Seeing the flashes of shock, anger, and hurt in the eyes of the men closest to him shredded his heart. He closed his eyes only to see Kaleana lying on the table. He really didn’t know which sight he preferred.
“N-n-n-nooo.”
Malcolm opened his eyes to look at Stu. Right in front of him he saw the hero worship Stu held for him crumble as he succumbed to tears. A fundamental part of Stu’s world, the part that assured him that Malcolm would always protect him, shifted. “I’m so sorry.” Sorry for her death, sorry for failing, sorry for bringing the struggle against the Geneticists into their home.
Rufus’s eyes widened as his nostrils flared. He stood, clenching his fists before coming to a standstill behind everyone, facing Malcolm with his arms crossed over his chest.
“How?” Carson’s gruff voice thickened.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“Wh-wh—”
“What do you mean you weren’t there?” Nick cut off Stu, no doubt asking the same question Stu had attempted.
“I was with Will. They had to do them both at the same time. We heard Kaleana scream, and when they finally let us see her, she was already dead.”
Anger suffused Nick’s face as he jumped to his feet. “You let them kill her!” The words pummeled Malcolm with a force he knew he deserved.
Tony grabbed Nick and pulled him back down to his seat. “He did nothing of the sort, and I won’t let you speak to him that way. You want to be angry with someone, be angry with the Geneticists. They’re the ones who did this.” The vehemence in Tony’s voice shocked Malcolm. He’d always been the soft-spoken peacemaker of the group. “Now apologize.”
“That’s not necessary.” Malcolm understood Nick’s anger. He shared it. He wished he could take the pain from these men, let them take it out on him. He’d welcome any physical blows they could deliver. They sat innocent in all of this. Malcolm had sworn to protect them, to protect Kaleana, and now he had hurt them all more than anyone else had.
“Excuse me, but
it is. They’ve already taken Kal—” Tony’s voice caught and he cleared his throat. “Kaleana from us. We’re not letting them tear apart what’s left of our family. Now, apologize, Nick.”
“I’m sorry. I just…it’s Kaleana. How can she be…?” Nick’s face crumpled, and Tony pulled his head down to his shoulder and ran his hand through Nick’s hair.
Will looked at Malcolm, gave his hand a squeeze, and then went to comfort Nick. Malcolm surveyed the rest of the room. Rufus sat next to Carson with his head in his hands. When he looked up, desperation filled his eyes. Carson patted his back. The two men sat together in silent camaraderie. On the other side of Carson sat Syrus, appearing to watch over all of them with his milky white eyes. Malcolm wished he’d say something. Syrus usually had just the right thing to say in any situation. His counsel had often proved invaluable. Out of all of them, Syrus had known Kaleana the longest next to Malcolm. A part of Malcolm wanted to go to him, but he held back. He couldn’t help feeling as if her death was his fault, and he couldn’t handle Syrus’s condemnation. The most likely reason for his silence was to keep from hurting Malcolm.
Malcolm shook his head. How selfish. Syrus likely kept quiet to rein in his emotions. Malcolm moved to stand in order to go to him, but Stu must have misinterpreted it as him leaving. Stu stood, wiped his eyes and nose on his hand, and sat in Will’s vacated spot. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t get another word out before falling onto Malcolm.
The feel of Stu’s arms wrapped around him seeking comfort, seeking strength, seeking things that Malcolm didn’t think he had to give anymore, sent something through him. A sense of responsibility, but more than that, love. That had always been the source of Stu’s admiration for him. How was it possible to feel at once so empty, devoid of feeling, but yet overwhelmed with the love of a family that even now sat around him grieving, searching for comfort and hope? Holding Stu to him, trying desperately to give what meager comfort he could, Malcolm looked around at the red-rimmed eyes, the slumped shoulders, and the grief that emanated from each man in front of him and had to hope that perhaps together they were stronger than the sum of their parts, strong enough to see each other through this.
Chapter Thirteen
Staring at his computer, Will couldn’t believe it had been less than two days since he’d last sat at this desk. It felt like a lifetime, completely separate from recent events. He needed a break from the grief and to check in with Oculus. As the operative Ajax, Will didn’t have a private life. He belonged to something bigger, and they couldn’t afford to jeopardize or slow the movement on account of their personal grief.
Last night, after they finally left the lounge, they had to go through it all again with Marcy and Jess when they went down for dinner. None of them really ate anything. Malcolm had wanted to tell Trent and the rest of the staff, but Will put his foot down. Marcy could handle telling everyone else who needed to know. By the time they’d retreated to their room to be alone, they were both so exhausted they collapsed onto the bed, curled into one another, and fell asleep.
Neither of them had slept well, so when morning came, breakfast went much the same as dinner. Will’s stomach sat like a cold stone. The thought of food only made the stone sink deeper. After the meal finished, they had all sat awkwardly around the table until Syrus asked Malcolm to speak privately with him. Confident that Malcolm would be all right with Syrus, Will had taken the opportunity to take care of a few urgent matters.
Like most of the rooms Malcolm made regular use of, the office didn’t sport any color. Everything existed in stark shades of black and white. Normally, the room’s lack of color didn’t bother Will. Malcolm’s presence filled the room, giving it the life that the color scheme omitted. Every clean, colorless surface reminded him of the man he loved and the work they did.
Entering it alone today, Will felt empty. Everything seemed foreign, as if Kaleana’s death had taken the life from every corner of the house, even in this room that she had rarely entered once Will and Malcolm had commandeered it.
A flagged message flashed red on his Glass surface, focusing Will’s attention on the work he came to bury himself in.
Oculus: How did the collar switch go? I’m worried that I haven’t heard anything. I’m holding off activating our transmitters until I know all is well. Please advise.
The message was addressed to Malcolm, but the system automatically copied it to Will. In all the time he’d worked with the movement, Will had never directly messaged Oculus. He’d always communicated through Malcolm, but this message needed a response, and Will didn’t want to disturb Malcolm with it.
Lazarus: Only one collar was successfully switched. All clear to switch on transmitters.
Will sent the message using Malcolm’s account. A mountain of work waited for him, but Will’s mind couldn’t direct itself to any one thing. How could he function all alone in this monochrome office? No one else was even on the third floor. But Will didn’t know where else to go or what else to do. Malcolm needed this time alone with Syrus, and Will didn’t know how he’d even begin to talk to any of the others. As much as he liked to urge his lover to talk to him and not hold his emotions inside, Will didn’t have an easy time opening up either, at least not with anyone who wasn’t Malcolm. He knew any of the other Zeds could provide comfort, but that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to make sense of the world, and none of them could do that for him. For the first time, he understood why Malcolm found it so easy to bury himself in his work, to sit in front of a computer screen for hours on end when he needed to be dealing with his feelings. Will often pulled long hours out of excitement for his work, but he had never before used his work as an excuse to not feel. Perhaps that was why he found it so hard to direct his mind to a task. The work he did was something he attacked with fervor, and he possessed none of that energy.
Another alert sounded. Oculus must be online.
Oculus: Who is this?
Will’s heart froze. Somehow Oculus had known. What should he do? The prudent thing would be to wait until Malcolm could advise him, but Will wasn’t going bother him, and if he didn’t respond soon, Oculus would panic, which could lead to mistakes.
How much could or should Will tell? He didn’t care. He and Malcolm both trusted Oculus, and for some reason, speaking frankly with Oculus seemed like the only right choice. He switched to his own account.
Ajax: This is Ajax. I’m Lazarus’s spouse.
Malcolm had immediately informed Oculus when he had divulged his identity to Will per protocol, so he should have no problem accepting Will’s statement. However, Oculus wouldn’t know anything about Will. He would assume he was Malcolm’s wife unless he had been told otherwise.
Oculus: Ah, yes, his Zed. Nice to finally meet you. What’s wrong?
Knowing that Malcolm had trusted Oculus with the knowledge that Will was a Zed made him trust him even more.
Ajax: The other Zed died during the procedure.
Oculus: I’m so sorry. I know he’s extraordinarily close to all of his Zeds. Pass along my condolences.
Ajax: I will. In the meantime, I’ll be monitoring his messages. You can go ahead and turn on the transmitter. I’m wearing the new collar.
Oculus: Keep an eye out for any problems. I’m turning it on now.
Nerves swirled in Will’s stomach. Fear crept around his ribs and through his gut. Fear of electrocution, fear of the Geneticists discovering him, as if they would storm the compound within a minute of the transmitter activating.
Oculus: Any problems? It’s on now.
Will didn’t feel anything different. For some reason, he thought he should.
Ajax: Are you sure? There’s no indication.
Oculus: Of course not, but it’s transmitting now. I can see exactly where you are. I never knew where Lazarus lived, other than that he was in the New Cali nation-state.
Will logged in to the program they had set up in order to monitor the collars. Sure enough, one collar was listed in the datab
ase.
Ajax: How much information are we getting?
Oculus: Everything. I’ll need some time to refine the process and sort the data we receive so it’s easier to monitor. My guess is the Geneticists don’t store everything they receive. They probably just run it through a program to ping any problems. This will only be useful to us if we can store and reference this information. We’ll need more capacity once all the collars go online.
Will hadn’t even thought of that. The excitement of the work overshadowed such logistical concerns. At the moment, the main archive was stored in a secret location. Will had assumed that the additional data they would harvest from the collars would simply be stored in the same place.
Ajax: How much more space are we going to need?
Oculus: There’s no telling. I’ll have a better idea once this collar has been on for a few days. The real test will be when this expands to the pilot program.
Ajax: I’ll mention it to Lazarus.
Oculus: Make sure he knows my thoughts are with him and that I won’t allow his Zed to have died in vain. Send me a priority message if you notice anything different with the collar. I’ll make contact again once I have a more workable program in place for the transmitters.
That was it. It seemed incongruous for such a momentous step to happen in such a mundane way. Sitting alone in front of his computer in this office he’d spent nearly every day in, he’d just witnessed the largest step toward undermining the Geneticists that the movement had ever taken.
And now he was simply supposed to go back to work, as if it were just another day.
But it wasn’t another day, and he didn’t know when he’d ever feel like it was.
Kaleana had served as such an integral part of every aspect of life on the compound. No one really knew Will and the other Zeds very well other than the few Betas they had direct contact with, but Kaleana had helped Malcolm run Panacea from the very beginning. The multitude of little things she did, some Will didn’t doubt no one was aware of, touched every part of life from their enigmatic Alpha to the Betas and of course the Zeds who loved her like a sister.
[In Distress 02.0] In Pain Page 9