by Nick Thacker
Adam watched Jocelyn, and saw the resolve come to her.
“That’s right,” she said. “I didn’t realize that was their plan, until much later. And then I stayed anyway. Because I hoped to change their plan. I hoped to make a cure.”
“And did you?” Anna asked.
Jocelyn hesitated, as if she were about to speak, then closed her mouth and shook her head.
Anna stood and patted her legs, as if dusting them off. Adam could imagine her doing that out among the rocks and brush of Garden of the Gods—a practiced habit that came from years of crouching down to inspect something out in the wild. It seemed fitting, even here in this clean and modern environment. To Anna, he and Jocelyn were just two more wild creatures who needed to be roped in.
She turned to face Adam, but spoke to Jocelyn instead. “What about him?” she asked. “What is it that makes him so special?”
Jocelyn shook her head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t given access to his records. Or to those of his family. I was kept out of the loop.”
Anna nodded. “Pity,” she said.
She looked at a couple of the men who had followed her into the room. “Take her and put her in the pump house. Tie her up, and keep a guard on the door.”
The men did as they were told without a word, and Jocelyn offered no resistance as she was escorted from the room.
Anna took Jocelyn’s chair and turned it, then sat down, facing Adam. She shook her head, as if deciding what she would do about him.
“How many kids did you have?” she suddenly asked him.
Adam felt his stomach clench. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to think about it, or about what he’d lost.
“This will go a lot smoother if you’ll just decide to talk to me,” she said. “I need to know.”
“Why?” Adam asked, suddenly feeling anger boil to the surface. “Why the hell should I tell you anything? Why should you even care?”
She shook her head and waved a hand at one of the men who had stayed behind, signaling him to lower his weapon.
She looked up at Carl, who was standing to Adam’s side now. “Did you manage to get the files?” she asked.
He nodded. “Jeff had them. We got lucky.”
“Depends on how you define luck,” she said. “Get them to Raj.”
Carl left, and now it was just Adam, Anna, and the armed man behind him.
“There’s something you may not know. Something that makes you special, which makes me want to know more about you.”
“I’m touched,” Adam said, sneering.
“It’s not personal,” Anna smiled. “It’s a nature thing. You see, we’ve actually been gathering up here for a while now, hiding out, watching. Some of us realized early on that there were patterns to all of this. The Suppressed—they were growing in numbers, right out in public, without anyone even recognizing it. Well, anyone but us.”
She leaned back a bit, twining her fingers with her hands over her stomach. “I’ll admit, there are some pretty messed up conspiracy theorists in among our group. But they tend to be thorough. And once we knew what to look for, they were pretty good at finding evidence of it. And there was evidence everywhere.”
Adam knew his role in this conversation was supposed to be asking questions. But the problem was he simply didn’t care. This situation—this scenario he’d found himself in—it was entirely outside of him right now. He was just along for the ride.
“One of our guys is a nut about checking census data. All of it’s available online, you know. You can find all sorts of things, if you start cross-referencing. He has reams of printouts of it, so that he can have a record when the Internet finally goes down. And he’s cross-referenced all of that with historic birth rates. And you know what he’s found?”
Adam shook his head.
“People who have been verified as Suppressed have a higher birth rate than average. They tend to have twins, or even triplets. They produce a lot of kids. But then there’s the Lucid. Folks like us—you, me, everyone in this camp. Do you know how many kids, on average, a Lucid has?”
Again Adam shook his head, and stared off at the sloping landscape outside of the window.
“None,” Anna said. “Zero. Out of everyone we’ve managed to track down—everyone who is somehow immune to this … well to this heavy metal poisoning,” she waved a hand in the direction that Jocelyn had been taken. “Not a single one of them has a kid. Those that have been diagnosed at all were diagnosed as sterile or infertile. So to a man, and to a woman, there isn’t one child. No Lucid can have children. None, that is, except you.”
Adam was still staring out of the window, and Anna snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing his attention back to her. “Hey,” she said. “Hey sweet pea, over here. Did you catch that?”
Adam blinked. “I’m … I’m the only one with kids?”
She nodded. “Out of thousands of us. Not here, of course. There are only a few hundred here. But there are other pockets of Lucid out there. We’ve been in touch with ham radios and other means. We’re trying to stay connected, so we can mobilize if we need to.”
All of this went right past Adam. He was spinning through everything he’d seen and heard since this began, trying to make sense of it, but finally giving up.
“We’ve asked around, and so far you are the only Lucid we’ve encountered who has actually managed to reproduce. Now, we’re a little suspicious, naturally. Seems like only one of your kids wasn’t a full-blown suppressed. Which … well, I hate to break it to you Adam, but that could be a sign that the missus was stepping out at some point.”
“We …” Adam started. He was going to try to explain, to say they’d had some trouble. He was going to defend Kate. He was going to say there may have been a suspicion. But he didn’t finish any of those thoughts. He just stopped.
“So we’re pretty sure that’s why that cripple at the facility wanted you. He was studying you to find out why you’re different, and what that means. So we put together our own mission, to bring you here. And it cost us a lot, you understand that? It cost us some good people.”
Adam closed his eyes. Everything was happening too fast. There were too many details. He felt himself getting dizzy, getting sick.
“Now that we have you here, I have to decide the best course of action,” Anna said. “And I think God must like us, because he sent you along with that Wu woman. And if you already know of someone in Denver who is looking into this, maybe we all have a shot.”
“A shot at what?” Adam asked finally, opening his eyes and staring at her hard.
There was the briefest bit of hesitation from Anna then. She was tough, that was obvious. But when Adam looked at her at that moment she blinked.
“A shot at saving us all,” she said. “Because as things stand right now, Adam, the human race is about to become extinct.”
—
Jocelyn took deep breaths to calm herself. She concentrated on everything she knew about meditation. Her Grandmother—a natural-born Chinese woman who had died almost twenty years ago—would smack her for not being well versed in meditation. She had been a staunch Buddhist who practiced daily, even as she raised a son under Communist rule, before escaping with him, his wife, and their unborn daughter to the United States. They had a fresh start, but Grandmother had always insisted that they maintain the family’s ancient traditions.
Jocelyn had rebelled.
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the traditions of the old world. She really did. It was more that she was a lot like her father—a scientist who had studied the effects of radiation and mutation on fetal cells. He appreciated technology and scientific advancement. He appreciated human potential as well. And Jocelyn wanted to be just like him.
Which meant spending more time studying biology than studying Buddhism.
She’d always assumed that she’d made the right choice, until this very moment. Right now she’d give anything to be able to calm and center hers
elf, to push aside the fear that was boiling within her, and to move past the urge to throw up every time she thought about where she was and what was happening.
At the moment she was tied to a piece of pump equipment—part of the water reclamation system of this place. She was being kept in an outbuilding near the ranger station where she and Adam had been delivered. Thankfully the building was modern—no cobwebs or spiders or scorpions to worry over. No obvious ones, at least. But it was still a bit uncomfortable. They’d given her a chair to sit in, but they’d forced her to bend slightly so that her hands could be tied the to equipment.
She breathed. She concentrated on zen thoughts. She ran equations and formulas in her head, which always helped her shake off anxiety in the past.
The door opened, and two men come through, followed by Anna Tyler. Jocelyn didn’t recognize the men—they weren’t the same men who had tied her up in here. They looked tough, and were dressed in the leathers of a biker gang, which did nothing to ease Jocelyn’s anxiety.
“Well that’s not polite,” Anna said, shaking her head. She looked to one of the men. “Cut her loose. She shouldn’t have to stoop like that.”
The man nodded, and reached to his belt, where a very large and very frightening knife was clipped. He took the knife and flicked it expertly, the blade glinting in the light from the skylight overhead. As he approached Jocelyn she tensed, but he only reached forward and cut the cords that had her bound.
She strained up, grateful to be able to work the kinks form her back, and she rubbed feeling back into her wrists.
“Thank you,” she said. She felt she had to say something. It was something Grandmother and her parents had managed to drill into her, growing up.
Anna Tyler nodded, and pulled another chair over from somewhere on the other side of the pump equipment. It made a horrible noise as Anna dragged it across the floor–like the sound of a mourning beast after being shot with an arrow. The sound of a fatal blow.
Jocelyn shivered.
“Now, don’t worry about anything, “ Anna said. “We don’t have any intention of hurting you. Especially if you cooperate.”
Jocelyn nodded, but said nothing.
The two bikers stood just behind Anna, flanking her on either side. They had their hands in their pockets, which was a fairly casual stance for them. Jocelyn wondered if they had been picked because of how they looked—an extra bit of intimidation from a woman claiming she had no intention of hurting anyone.
Jocelyn wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Ann Tyler. Not just yet.
“Now, as I understand it,” Ann said, “you were one of the doctors at that facility? The one run by the cripple?”
Jocelyn felt herself bristle at the use of the word “cripple.” it was horribly offensive. Or would have been, under different circumstances—in a world less affected than this one.
“David Priseman,” Jocelyn said. She couldn’t help herself—she felt an overpowering need to humanize David in Anna’s eyes, even though she herself thought of Priseman as a monster. “And yes,” Jocelyn continued. “I was a researcher there, recruited by the head of the project directly from the World Health Organization.”
Ann nodded. “And what were you researching, exactly?”
Jocelyn started to give the official answer. It had been drilled into her head that she was never to speak of the work at the facility. She had signed numerous non-disclosure agreements, all of which afforded very severe penalties for breaking the silence. But that was all out the window now, wasn’t it? Was there even a government to prosecute her anymore? And did NDA’s apply to hostage situations?
“I was part of a research team that was looking for a way to inhibit the spread of heavy metal poisoning. The … well, the Suppressed among the population are all being affected by an element that contaminated the water supply several years ago. It somehow multiplies itself when it’s processed in the human body, through contact with ureic acid. “
“Pee?” Anna said, and smiled.
Jocelyn returned the smile in spite of herself, though it wasn’t quite genuine. “Yes, basically.”
“So this virus …”
“It isn’t a virus,” Jocelyn said. “It is a heavy metal poisoning. The element leeched into the water supply in Panna, and from there it spread as humans drank bottled water from the region and … well … peed.”
Anna studied Jocelyn for a moment, then nodded. “Got it. Not a virus. Forgive me, Dr. Wu. I don’t know much about medicine or biology or heavy metals. What I do know is that facility was capturing people and holding them against their will.”
Jocelyn recognized the undertones of threat in Anna’s voice. For all her affability, she was angry with Jocelyn, and it showed. Anna showed all the signs of being a ruthless leader, if she needed to be. Jocelyn needed a way to convince Anna and the others that she could be useful, and was not a threat in any way.
“I was never told where the subjects came from,” Jocelyn said. “And they were generally sedated or suffering from the effects of the heavy metal poisoning. I was kept in the dark about the rest of the operations there.”
“But you suspected?” Anna asked.
Jocelyn considered this before answering. It was possible this was a setup—Anna might be aiming for a confession from Jocelyn, as a justification for some hideous plan she might have. Maybe she’d have her tortured. Or maybe executed.
But if that was the case, it was far more likely they’d do those things if Jocelyn refused to talk.
“I did,” she said, after only a few seconds hesitation. “I started seeing signs, and hearing whispers. As David Priseman’s experiments become more intrusive, I was seeing results that I knew he couldn’t have gotten any other way. It was becoming clear that he had unaffected people in captivity.”
“Lucid,” Anna said.
“I’m sorry?”
“The term now is ‘Lucid.’ That’s us,” she said, waving at the men behind her. “And you.” She was staring at Jocelyn now, and her eyes were hooded and stern. “And what I’m trying to figure out, Dr. Wu, is whether or not I can trust you.”
There wasn’t much Jocelyn could say to that. She couldn’t simply say “Yes, you can trust me.” She couldn’t beg them to. She knew the truth of it—trust had to be earned. Normally it’s earned through actions, not words. And in this instant there were no actions for Jocelyn to take.
Except one.
“I can study the vials that Adam brought with him,” she said. “If we can get to the right equipment, I can continue looking for a cure for this.”
Anna was studying her, the expression on her face still stern and dark. Then she brightened a bit, and sat back. The intensity was gone, from her features at least. “That’s what I think, too,” she said. “So what do you need?”
Jocelyn blinked, and stuttered a bit. She had expected—well, something else. But if Anna was offering, this could be a chance for Jocelyn to continue the work and actually find a cure. “I need a lab. A Phlebotomy lab would be useful, but I’ll also need some specialized equipment. I can make a list. I’m not sure we’ll be able to find everything we need in Colorado Springs, however. Most of the hospitals are under guard and under the control of Priseman’s people, by this point. And the facility was the only place locally that had some of the equipment I’ll need.”
Anna considered this, then turned to one of the men. “I think Bolland said something about a professor?”
“Milton,” the man said. “Professor Milton. In Denver. ”
Anna turned back to Jocelyn. “Bolland was on his way to the University of Colorado’s Division of Infectious Diseases. Do you know Doctor Milton?”
Jocelyn shook her head. “No, sorry.”
“There’s no guarantee the man is still alive, or is actually Lucid himself. But he was apparently studying this, which means he likely has the equipment you need.”
Jocelyn nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I’d say there’s a good chance of that.�
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Anna slapped her knees and stood. “That settles it then. We’re going to Denver. It won’t be easy getting in, according to one of the camps nearby. They have the place blocked off with UVFs and soldiers. The soldiers are all Suppressed, though, so they’re not exactly thinking straight. That’s are only advantage.”
She looked at the men. “Get her a place to sleep and a hot meal.”
Anna started for the door, and the men helped Jocelyn to stand. Everything felt surreal now, as if Jocelyn had somehow passed a test she hadn’t even known she’d been given. “Wait,” she said.
Anna stopped and turned.
“Just like that?” Jocelyn asked. Meaning, “Just like that, you trust me?” Or maybe “Just like that, I work for you now?”
As if Anna heard all versions of this, she smiled. “Just like that,” she said.
And Jocelyn heard the unspoken bits of her comment as well. “Just like that, but if you screw us you’re dead.”
Chapter Five
Now that David and his entire operation were untethered from Halpern and her organization, the real work could begin.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful. Halpern had helped him in more ways than he could count. She had recruited him, all those years ago, and given him unbelievable amounts of money and not a small amount of autonomy to pursue his research further. He’d been given carte blanche to do as he pleased, as long as he kept moving forward with the organization’s goals—the ability to read, interact with and, eventually, reprogram the human mind.
David had already made a lot of progress in this area of study, thanks to his work with Mother. And as his life at University progressed, following Mother’s death, he had made huge strides in both artificial intelligence and human-machine interaction. It was during his time at University that he became aware of the heavy metal poisoning.
There was a lot about his work that was borderline by legal standards, obviously. But somehow, despite his sketchy experiments and research, he never found himself being curtailed. He had revealed his work with Mother, the interface he had created, and the alterations he’d made to her thinking. He’d show his work, warts and all, to the two professors who headed biometric research and artificial intelligence program. There had been some question of morality and ethics right at the beginning, and then that had faded without another peep.
