New Identity

by Tenaya MKD

  “What kinds of books do you like to read?” I asked.

  “All sorts of fiction. Fantasy, sci-fi, historical, whatever is around.”

  “I think I like those too. I’m not positive. I know I like reading though.”

  “I’d be happy to let you borrow my books.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  He took a sip of his coffee, before putting his mug back down to search through his drawers with both hands. He pulled out a gray t-shirt.

  Trying not to watch him too closely, I put my attention on the painting of a lake that hung over the head of his bed. Behind the calm, reflective water was a forest in autumn. Orange, red, and yellow leaves swirled around and collected on top of the lake’s surface. It made me miss outside. Out there, fall was ending now.

  He grabbed a comb off the shelf, running it through his hair. “So, I’m thrilled to see you in a better mood today. I’ve really missed you. But I can’t help but wonder what could have gotten you out of bed earlier than me?”

  I pushed my hair behind my ears, glancing down at my cup. “I just wanted to do something nice for you for a change. To say thank you.”

  The smile I’ve liked since the day we met spread across his face. “That’s what I’m here for, Nova. No thanks are needed.”

  I gathered my courage, ignoring my gut instinct to shut up, and avoid being vulnerable. “Are you so good to everyone, or am I, maybe, a special case?” I brought my eyes to his and held them there, despite my discomfort.

  He put down his comb and gave me his full attention. “You’re definitely special.”

  My cheeks burned again. He softly touched my face. “I love making you do that.”

  I turned away from his hand, hiding my smile behind a sip of coffee.

  Two loud knocks shook the door. Cayde quickly stepped into a jumpsuit and answered it. It was Markham.

  “Can I speak with you in my office?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

  “Thank you.” He craned his neck to look over Cayde’s shoulder at me. “Good morning, Nova.”

  I only nodded.

  When Markham had left, I moved toward the door. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “I’ll save you a seat,” he said. “Thanks again, for the coffee.”

  I smiled. “Anytime.”

  I stopped by the cafeteria to grab a pancake and some of Bunny’s faux bacon, before heading to the garden. I wrapped the bacon and a little hash browns into the pancake, like a breakfast taco. It felt like something a child would do. And it was delicious.

  Eric was already pulling out the tools we would need from the shed. “Holy shit, is that a smile on your face?” he asked, as soon as I was close enough for him to see me.

  “I just had a pancake taco, Eric. Life is good!”

  He laughed. “I wish I had given you a pancake a week ago! You’ve been such a buzzkill.”

  I laughed. And it felt damn good.

  Eric grinned mischievously as he threw me a fifty-pound bag of soil. “We’re setting up a new bed today. How should we make it more interesting?”

  We’d ended up first, launching bags of soil around, to see who could throw them farther. Then, we tested how much weight we could carry while jumping onto the roof of the shed. Basically, we fucked around a lot. It felt like we were making up for lost time. No one could make me laugh like Eric. By the time we’d finished our work, hours had passed, and we were covered in dirt.

  We sat on the ground with our backs leaned against the shed, passing Eric’s flask back and forth.

  “What does it say about you, that you never leave this facility, and yet you feel the need to carry a flask with you?” I’d only been teasing him, but I saw something vulnerable flash across his face. If I’d have blinked, I would have missed it entirely.

  “What does it say about you, that you’ve never once turned it down when I’ve offered to share?”

  I laughed, for the hundredth time that day. “That I’m easily swayed by peer pressure?”

  He laughed. “Am I really such a bad influence?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Eric. If anything, I’m a bad influence on you.” I smiled and took a swig from the silver flask. My throat burned pleasantly as the whiskey ran down it. “Am I right in assuming your chores never took this long until you started doing them with me?”

  “Actually, that is a really good point. Until you came along, this place never looked messier when I’d finished, than before I started.”

  That wasn’t usually the case, but today it definitely was. We had yet to put away the extra bags of soil we’d been playing with, or clean up the shed’s roof where I’d dropped a bag mid-jump and torn the corner. Soil was everywhere.

  “Chief will not be happy about that,” he said, pointing to the pile of dirt beside us.

  It was funny to think that, just yesterday, I’d thought I shouldn’t be allowed a day like this.

  Eric looked at me with a question in his eyes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh. Okay then.”

  “Really?” he asked, surprised.

  “No!” I laughed. “Spit it out!”

  He smiled, shaking his head. “What’s gotten into you today? I’m stoked to have my buddy back, but I am really curious.”

  I didn’t really know how to answer him. “Someone pointed some things out to me that made sense.”

  “That’s incredibly vague.”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  “Well, whatever this person pointed out, I’m sorry I didn’t come up with it. You’ve been so miserable to be around.”

  My eyes rolled. “Geez, Eric. I’m really sorry I put you through that.”

  He laughed and elbowed me, sending me tipping over.

  I righted myself, smiling at him.

  He took a long swig from the flask. “Alright. Let’s clean this shit up. I’m hungry.”

  22

  The cafeteria was full; as full as it ever got, anyway. Cayde and I were at a table alone, discussing a book called 1984, between bites of vegetable pasta. He had loaned me a few books now, and we were making a habit out of talking about them over dinner.

  I loved those conversations. He always seemed to have insights I’d missed. Sometimes, it felt like he understood characters even better than the person who wrote them.

  As someone who considered herself emotionally stunted at best, it was fascinating to hear a person with such an intimate understanding of the human mind describe people. Even villains were better people through Cayde’s eyes, because he saw their hearts through their actions. It made it easier to understand how he could have so much patience for someone like me.

  We were talking about how the main character’s will to be rebellious came from hopelessness, when Harper came up behind us and sat next to me. Not directly next to me, there were a couple chairs between us, but compared to the distance we’d usually kept, she might as well have been in my lap.

  Cayde and I froze for a few seconds before he remembered his manners. “Hey Harper, how are you?” he asked. There was a note of caution to his voice. They’d always gotten along fine, but it was no secret how she felt about me.

  “Can I have a minute with Nova?” she asked. She was perched on the edge of the seat, with her back incredibly straight. I assumed because of her healing ribs. It completely threw off her usual body language.

  Cayde looked at me with raised brows, unsure how to answer. I was not in the mood for a confrontation, but I was curious to know what she wanted. I nodded.

  “Sure. I’ll just be over here.” He moved to the next table over. Far enough to give us space, but still close enough to feel like he was looking out for me. If this conversation did come to blows, I’d probably have a better chance against Harper than he would. But Cayde was always a gentleman.

  I turned myself to fully face Harper. “What’s on your mind?”

  She didn’t bother to
look at me, preoccupied by the chipping, red polish on her short nails. “I have been asked to try to diffuse some of the… tension between us. I’ve decided not to.”

  I almost laughed, but I caught the sound in my throat. She glared at me for a moment, before continuing.

  “I have never known someone who pisses me off the way you do. But then again, I’ve never known someone who broke my ribs and my nose on the same day.” The way she nonchalantly picked at her nails didn’t match the intensity in her voice at all.

  “That’s fair.” I nodded. “Did Eric ask you to do this?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

  “He must be great in bed, if he can make you talk to me.”

  “Oh, he is.” She grinned. “But you did hear the part where I said I’m not here to do what he asked, right? I want that to be clear.”

  “I heard you.”

  “Good. No one makes me do anything.”

  “Then why are you here? Because it seems a little like you’re doing exactly what he asked.”

  Her eyes snapped to me, finally showing a bit of the fire I expected from her. “Because I’m going to tell Eric that I tried. And if you want to keep your face arranged the way it is, then you’re going to tell him the same thing.”

  “Sure,” I said, looking down at my own short, unpolished nails. I wanted to make it clear that her threats meant nothing to me. “Why does it matter to him if we get along?”

  “I really don’t know, or care. But I’d like him to never bring it up again.”

  “I see.” I nodded. “Are you guys a couple?” It was a nosy question and one I didn’t need to ask. But it had come out anyway.

  She laughed, but it made her twinge. Her arm quickly wrapped around her middle. “Well, that makes me feel better. You don’t know Eric as well as I thought you did.”

  That caught me off guard. “What does that mean?”

  “Eric doesn’t want a relationship. Ever. Which is what makes him perfect for me. Understand?”

  “No, not really. But I can pretend that made sense. If you’d like?”

  She sighed, unimpressed with my attitude. “Eric has done all the settling down he ever wants to do. It didn’t go well. I have no interest in that shit, either. But I do like spending time with him whenever I feel like. And I’m not willing to share.”

  “So, you want a monogamous, unattached relationship?”

  “Whatever you want to call it.”

  Eric dropped himself down onto the seat across from us. His sudden presence startled me. “Are you guys best friends now? You gonna have sleepovers and spa nights?”

  Harper and I both stared at him with narrowed eyes.

  “We’ve decided not to kill each other. Is that good enough?” she asked him.

  He sighed. “It’ll do. But if you guys ever decide to have a pillow fight in your underwear, I better be invited.”

  She rolled her eyes and got up from the table, punching him in the arm on her way to the door.

  The moment she was gone, Cayde jumped up from his seat to join me again. “What was that about?”

  “Whatever it was, I at least made her feel surer about Eric and I only being friends.”

  Eric’s ears perked up. “How did you do that?”

  “Apparently, I don’t know some things about you that she’s sure I would know if we were close.” He went rigid. Whatever she’d been talking about, he definitely didn’t want to share it. “She didn’t say what, exactly. Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe.”

  He quickly glanced toward the door, like he was subconsciously longing for an escape from this moment. As soon as his eyes were back on me, it was as if his discomfort had washed away. But, knowing him, it would probably be more accurate to say it was locked away.

  If anyone could understand not wanting to talk about things, it was me. I was incredibly curious, especially because the pitying look Cayde was giving Eric made it seem like he was in on the secret too. But I was not about to pry. I’m a big supporter of people minding their own business.

  “Your past is yours, Eric. I know how valuable that is. Don’t share it with anyone you don’t think is worthy.” I took a big bite of my pasta. They both stared at me while I chewed. Cayde’s look seemed like one of admiration for some reason; I couldn’t read the expression on Eric’s face.

  Once I’d swallowed, I added, “If you ever decide you do want to tell me, I’m here. Sound good?”

  He smiled. Then cheapened the moment in perfect Eric form. “When you say ‘here,’ does that include your bedroom, or…?”

  Cayde stiffened.

  I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

  Men.

  23

  Failure

  Thaeo sat on the floor of the dark hall, his eyes glued to his feet. Screams cut through the steel door across from him, as if it were made of mere tissue paper. As if the man being tortured for “science” was lying right beside him, instead of strapped to the operating table inside.

  He had been listening to the screams for years now, silently begging the victims to stop—to die faster. But there were always more test subjects, more screams, and, lately, tests being performed more frequently than ever.

  When the day’s second experiment silenced, Thaeo finally unclenched his jaw. He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his fingers over his smooth scalp, hoping to erase the last hour from his memory.

  “Thaeo, get in here!” Crowley yelled.

  Pushing up to stand, Thaeo took a deep breath, then opened the door.

  The test subject’s eyes were still open, staring vacantly into the room. His veins showed bright blue through his skin, and the layer of sweat that coated it. That was the extent of what Thaeo was willing to see when he looked at the table.

  The victim was a middle-aged man with short, brown hair, wearing khakis and a blue t-shirt. The overhead lights reflected off of a silver wedding band on his lifeless hand. But if Thaeo saw those things, it would be too easy to imagine the man barbecuing with his family, holding hands with his wife, or playing with the kids who shared his features.

  He’d learned better than to see.

  “Another failure,” Crowley said, turning off the sink on the back wall. “Do we have any new rats?”

  “No. This subject was the last of the group Kyle brought in this week.”

  Crowley snatched up a towel from the counter to dry his hands. He shook his head, sighing. “If his team doesn’t supply the people I need, then they’re volunteering themselves.”

  Thaeo nodded once.

  Discarding the towel onto the floor, Crowley turned to face Thaeo. Reluctantly, Thaeo carefully removed Crowley’s bloodied surgical gown and hurriedly dropped it near the towel.

  Crowley straightened his crisp, red, button-down shirt, ensuring it was tucked evenly into his black slacks and belt, before retrieving his tablet from the counter.

  “I have to be close now, Thaeo. I’ve succeeded once already!” He glued his cold, blue eyes to the numbers on the tablet’s screen and furrowed his thick, dark brows. “Why can’t I recreate those results?”

  Crowley paced the room, careful not to step in the blood that pooled on the tarp covering a large section of the floor. While he thought, the only sound in the room was that of his pristinely shined black dress shoes clicking across the white tile.

  Thaeo kept his eyes down in front of him, trained on one of the few unstained spots on the floor.

  “There was a part of me that feared that when I ran out of powered subjects to conduct tests on, my experiments would be doomed—that the subjects’ predisposed genetics were key. But now, I know that’s not the case. It’s possible! I found success in a useless, normal woman! So, what has changed? What am I missing now?”

  He tapped at the tablet’s screen with a heavy finger, flipping between a multitude of graphs and charts until he finally landed on the one that he’d been looking for.

  “I have repeated the experiment that I co
nducted on her exactly, with completely different results! I’ve now tried changing every variable in a multitude of ways. The dosing, the formula, the injection timing, the shock frequencies. And I’ve never even come close to the results I had with her.” His hands tightened around the tablet screen, eventually squeezing so hard that the glass creaked in its metal frame.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, loosening his grip. “I am running out of time, Thaeo. My father’s transfusions are not lasting him long, these days.” He stepped up to the black, laminate countertop and gently laid down the tablet. “I can’t let him die without seeing me succeed.” He turned to look at Thaeo. “I need him to know that I will carry on his work. That the world will be safe in my hands.”

  Thaeo reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet Crowley’s. “What would you like me to do, sir?”

  Crowley shook his head. “Oh, Thaeo. Sometimes, I just need your ears. After all these years with me, do you still not think of me as your friend?”

  Thaeo knew better than to answer that question. He had a certain level of respect for David Crowley—the man with the power to change the world. But to say they were friends? That would be a stretch.

  No response was not the answer Crowley had wanted. He turned back to his iPad and his voice hardened. “Leave.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thaeo nodded, quickly leaving the room.

  24

  I woke up gasping. Drenched. Cayde was already at my door.

  “Nova, what's wrong? Let me in!”

  Sweat dripped down my face, landing on my soaked sheet. With each drop that fell, I felt a little more depleted.

  “Nova! Please, open the door!”

  Gathering all the strength I could, I wobbled to the door and unlocked it. But before I could pull it open, the door was replaced by a hazy, black abyss, and I collapsed onto the unforgiving cement.