by Sandra Cox
I look around me at my velvet-lined prison and rub my fingers down my face.
“Do you have family waiting for you?”
I nod again. Thinking of home is almost more than I can bear. I move my fingers to my arms and dig into the fleshy portion to keep from breaking down. If I start to cry, I’ll never stop.
“Amy and I will be your family.” His lips touch mine. His breath is salty and cool from the pizza and Coke he’s just sipped.
His touch and words comfort me. But worry about Gramps is like the sea’s undercurrent. It may be hidden beneath the surface but it’s always there.
“Thank you.” I don’t wish to burden him further with my concerns.
We settle in to watch the movie. He’s on one side and Amy on my other. We’ve completely polished off the pizza, due in large part to Joel. He holds my hand. The feel of his fingers wrapped around mine is seductive. For this small moment in time, my worries recede.
We fix popcorn and watch more movies. By midnight, Amy is yawning.
I rise. “I’m ready to call it a day.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Piper.” Amy stretches and heads for her room. I notice it’s on the other side of the lounge from mine.
I turn to Joel. “Where’s your room?”
He smiles and leans in. “If you’re interested, I’d be happy to show you.” The dolphin in me kicks to the surface, interested. My human side remembers the monitors…and Tyler.
“That’s a fascinating offer, but not tonight.”
“Then, I’ll hope for tomorrow.” He smiles easily. “I’ll see you to your room.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“No, it’s not.”
He takes my hand and leads me to my door. “If you change your mind, I’m on the other side of the lounge, west wing.”
I lift my head to nod and his lips claim mine. It’s a soft lazy kiss, sexy like Joel himself. My lips part. His tongue does a slow exploration of my mouth. With the finesse of a dancer, he withdraws.
I stare at him, my lids heavy, my mind swirling.
His hands on my shoulders, he kisses me lightly on the forehead. “Good night, Piper.”
“Good night.” I manage to get out.
He walks away, hands in pockets, whistling. For a moment, he turns. “West wing. You’re welcome anytime.” He winks and saunters off.
“Surreal.” My mind is still whirling as I step into my room. I notice aqua cotton boxers and an aqua cotton cami have been laid on my bed. “Must be the fricking fairy godmaid.” I shuck my clothes and fall into bed.
“Well, Gramps, my worst fears have been realized. I’m a lab rat. The surroundings aren’t exactly what I expected but it doesn’t change the fact I’m here for experimentation,” I whisper in the dark. Finally, the tears I can no longer keep at bay fall. I cry till I think I can’t possibly cry anymore. My tears ducts must be dried out by now, but salty wet liquid continues to pour down my cheeks. I bury my face in the pillow to muffle my sobs and cry some more.
Exhausted, I finally fall asleep only to toss and turn. Half-formed dreams try to surface. Gramps sitting in a wheelchair, on the beach, his arms outstretched. Tyler running through the sand, his feet sinking into the tiny granules, frantically calling my name. A pod of dolphins swimming back and forth along the shoreline searching for me. I run toward them but they don’t see me. I call but they don’t hear. Once again, tears stream down my face. I stumble and fall, scraping my arm on a broken shell. I jerk it away.
“There, there, it’s just a bad dream.” The needle clatters to the floor. Casey bends over to pick it up. I wonder if she managed to get drugs in me. By the mess on the floor, I’d say not.
“Tsk. Tsk.” She clicks her tongue as she cleans up the mess. “I’ll have to get another syringe.”
“Please, no more shots. They make me feel...” I search for the word. “Heavy,” I finally say inadequately.
“I’ll check with the doctor and let you know. He wants to see you in forty-five minutes. You’ve got time to take a quick shower. I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, still shaken by the dreams. I do not want to see Dr. Stranger. Thinking of him breaks me out in a cold sweat. Something bad is going to happen. I know it.
My hear pounds and my breath quickens. I stumble into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Along with the water comes a fine mist scented of vanilla and heather. I step into the soothing waters and let them pour over me. I lift my face hoping the water will offset the red blotches on my face from my crying jag.
I look toward the mirror. My eyes are puffy and red. Considering the abuse they got last night, I’m lucky to be able to open them. After toweling off and blow drying my hair, I walk into my bedroom to find a silk tee and navy shorts laid out, along with navy sandals. I sigh. I feel like a Barbie-doll. Having my clothes chosen for me is almost as bad as my nerd attire back home.
I look around. True to her word, Casey has left a cup of coffee in a to-go cup on the table. The strong arabica aroma tickles my nostrils. I inhale then sip. Ah. I wait for the kick of caffeine and after a moment realize there isn’t going to be one. They’ve given me decaf. Do they think decaf will keep me calm for the upcoming meeting? Right.
A knock sounds at the door. Casey sticks her head in. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” I get up and follow her out. The thick carpet masks the thump of our shoes. The rustle of her crisp white uniform is the only sound in the hall. It seems an out-of-date touch for such a young woman.
We ride the elevator to the second floor and proceed to Dr. Stranger’s office. With each step it gets harder to breathe. By the time she knocks on the door, I’m clasping my throat, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
She frowns. “Are you all right?”
I give a faint nod. “I’m all right,” I manage to get out and hope I will be in an hour.
“Enter.” The voice is emotionless.
We walk in. He motions to a chair in front of the desk. “Sit.”
I sit.
“I’ll call you when I’m done.” He dismisses Casey with a wave of his hand.
“Yes, sir.”
I half expect her to curtsey. The thick door swings silently shut behind her.
He studies me. “How has your stay been so far?”
I stare straight ahead, my hands clasped tightly together.
He ignores my silence. “I have plans for you, Piper.”
I look at him, then look away.
“Plans that will make you one of the most important women in the world.”
I want to scream. I have no desire to be one of the most important women in the world. I’m fine with my current nonentity status. I think of all those times I bitched and moaned about hiding behind a nerd identity. It doesn’t look nearly so bad now. Gramps was right, things can always be worse.
Dr. Stranger continues, “I don’t want you to think you’d be forced into anything distasteful or plebian. The project will be handled scientifically.”
I wipe my clammy hands on my shorts. I’ve got a feeling plebian would be better.
“Do you know what IVF is?”
For the first time I respond, “In vitro fertilization.”
“Very good.” He rubs his hands together and smiles at me like I’m his prized student. At least, I assume the grimace is his attempt at a smile. “That’s correct. In vitro fertilization. Sperm and egg are combined in a laboratory dish. Next the embryo is transferred to the uterus.”
“IVF makes it much easier to add dolphin DNA.” He leans back in the chair looking pleased with himself. “Do you realize how lucky you are?”
Oh, yeah, teenagers are standing in line to be lab rats.
“Like Eve, you are one of a kind. Only your child will be my creation. I’ll be its God.” Shocked, I notice the fanatical gleam in his eyes and quickly look away.
“Your child will be the mos
t sought-after child in the universe.”
My child. A lab rat. Sold to the highest bidder. Terror grips me. Fear for a child that hasn’t been conceived fills me.
“When was your last period?”
“Excuse me?” My head jerks up.
“I’m a doctor, Piper, your doctor.”
Do I tell the truth? Do I lie?
“Come, come, my dear. That sort of thing is only too easy to track.”
I cave. “Two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Perfect.” He actually beams.
My stomach muscles tighten. “Why?”
“The time would be perfect. Let’s get some blood samples and do an ultrasound.”
“No.” I jump to my feet.
“Not to worry, my dear, you won’t feel a thing.”
He presses the intercom on his desk. “Casey, bring a mild sedative for Piper.”
“Yes, doctor.” Her voice is tinny.
“I don’t want a sedative.” I fight back panic.
“It will lower your stress level.”
“I don’t want it.” My breathing is shallow, my heart is racing. I jump to my feet. Before I can say more, Casey comes bustling in with a syringe.
“Just relax, Piper.” He steps around the desk, places a hand on my shoulder. I knock it off and make a dash for the door.
Casey comes at me with the syringe. Dr. Stranger grabs me from behind and locks his arms around me. I thrash wildly. “Stay away from me,” I yell as Casey plunges the syringe deep into my skin. “Stay away.” My voice is slow and disjointed.
The response to the drug is immediate. I calm. But deep beneath the calm is terror.
“Take a blood sample, check her vitals, and get her prepped for an ovarian ultrasound.”
“Of course, doctor.”
The words come from a long way off.
Casey leads me through an adjoining door into a chamber with an examining table and a changing room. She points toward the changing room. “Take off your clothes and put on the gown. It opens in the front.”
She shuts the door. I slump into the chair.
Casey knocks on the door. “Ready?”
I don’t respond
She opens it and undresses me before leading me to the examining table. “Just lay down, Piper.”
“I don’t want to.”
She nudges me down.
Dr. Stranger walks in and snaps on gloves. “Put your feet in the stirrups. Now just relax, Piper.”
I close my eyes and ignore him. My legs are lifted into the stirrups. Moments later, I feel a probe against my vaginal wall. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s weird.
“It’s there.” His voice is filled with excitement. I force open my heavy lids and see him point to a screen over my head.
“Give her a mild injection and we’ll harvest it.”
Injection? Harvest? “No.” I protest then feel a tiny prick in my arm. I go deeper into my dream state, in and out of consciousness. I see what looks like a long, fine needle in his hand, then nothing.
In a dream, I think I hear him say, “I have it. Give me the Petri dish.”
* * * *
I wake up in my room. Casey is sitting in a chair next to me, reading a fashion magazine. I push up on my elbows. I feel groggy and my insides are sore.
Casey gets up and smiles. “How are you, sleepyhead?”
“What happened? What did you do to me?”
She takes my vitals. “Nothing, silly. You had a little exam.”
Little exam?
“The doctor wants you to take plenty of fluids and protein. What would you like?”
I’m starved. “Coke. Hamburger and fries.”
“You’ve got it. Here take a sip of this and I’ll go get your food.” She holds my head up. I sip water from a straw. She lays my head back down and I close my eyes.
The next thing I know, my bed is being raised—I didn’t even know it had that capability—and a tray placed on my lap. The aroma is wonderful. I am so hungry.
I take a bite of the juicy burger and immediately feel better. Casey pops the top of a Coke and the dark liquid fizzes over ice. She hands it to me. I drink thirstily.
“The doctor wants you to rest today. Tomorrow it’s back to normal.”
“Whatever normal may be.”
She giggles gaily.
“What happened to me yesterday?”
“Nothing. You had a yearly, that’s all. When you’re finished, just set the tray outside the door. I’ll pick it up later.”
After she leaves, I polish off my burger and fries. Whatever medication they’ve given me—again—is wearing off. I want to see my dolphin. I need to see her. We share a link. We’re both captives in this awful place.
I get up, get dressed, and head for the first floor where I flash my wristband at Ed and walk through the hall, and several doorways, to the tank.
By the time, I get there, I’m fairly winded. I can’t understand why I’m so tired. What did they do to me?
I look in the tank. Two dolphins swim listlessly back and forth paying me little attention.
My dolphin is gone.
Chapter 30
I stumble to Dr. Stranger’s office. Without waiting for an invitation, I throw open the door. On the verge of hysteria, I demand, “Where’s my dolphin?”
Dr. Stranger raises a thin gray eyebrow. He stares at me from behind his glasses. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Where’s my dolphin?”
“Your dolphin?” The eyebrow goes higher.
“Yes, mine. We visited them yesterday. There were three, now there are only two.”
He takes off his glasses, whips out a handkerchief, wipes the lenses, and then puts them back on. “The third dolphin is fine. We needed her for an experiment we’re working on. She’ll be back in the tank tomorrow.”
Memory of his voice, triumphant but murky, saying “We’ve harvested the egg,” makes my heart beat wildly and my breath whoosh in and out way to fast. Or did I dream it? I have no tolerance for meds. They do weird things to me. It has to be a dream. I refuse to consider anything else. “Does her experiment have anything to do with me?”
He rises and puts his hand on my shoulder. My skin crawls. This man may have killed my mother. “Of course not,” he says soothingly. “Now go back to your room and rest. Everything is fine.”
My breathing shallow, I head back to my room. I’m exhausted. I’ll just lie down for a moment.
A knock on the door wakes me. The room is dim and shadowed. I must have slept for several hours. Rubbing my eyes, I stumble to the door and open it.
“Hey, where have you been all day?” Joel leans his lanky form against the door frame, his arms crossed.
“Tests.”
“Gotcha.” He nods. “Want to grab something to eat?”
“Sure. Where’s Amy?”
“Reading a book. Are you ready? We can eat in the alcove.”
“Okay. Do you mind if we check on the dolphins first?”
He gives me a puzzled look but agrees. “No problem.”
I’m sore and walk slower than normal. My stomach is achy.
“Hey, are you okay?” He throws a companionable arm around my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Those tests can be a bitch.”
“Tell me about it.” I raise my eyebrows and heave out a breath.
“Those tests can…”
“Never mind,” I interrupt hastily.
He grins.
“Ha. Ha.”
I don’t run but I pick up my pace when I near the tank. “She’s back!”
“Who’s back?”
I point. “My dolphin was missing. He used her for experiments.” I step closer to the tank. She approaches. “She doesn’t look that great, does she?” Her eyes have a film on them, her skin looks dull and there is some type of waterproof bandage on her head.
Joel squints and studies her. “She looked better yesterday.”
“How do they get them in and out of the tank?”
He opens a closet door, placed discreetly in a recess near the tank, points to buttons on the wall that are similar to elevator buttons.
I look at him and raise my brows.
“The button on the right lifts up a partition that divides this tank and a smaller one. The button on the left leads back to the ocean.”
Excitement courses through me. “Have you ever tried to free them?”
He stares into the tank, his face expressionless. “Once, a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
“She swam back to me. The next experiment, she didn’t survive.”
“Oh, Joel, I’m sorry.” Horror replaces enthusiasm.
He shrugs. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
I turn to the tank and stare at my dolphin. “What happens if I free her?”
“An alarm will go off. Ed is probably watching you right now.”
I turn back to the tank. “Is he the only guard here?”
“Technically, he’s the only guard on the first floor. There are several attendants floating around. Plus there’s guards stationed outside. The alarm would alert them.”
My head hurts. I rub it. “I wish I weren’t so tired. I can’t think. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why not sleep on it? She’ll be here tomorrow.”
I think I hear him mutter, “I hope.”
I put my hand on the glass. She nuzzles it. “I’ll find a way to get you home. I promise.” Watching her hurts my heart.
She chatters.
I remove my hand and we walk away. Before we go through the first set of doors, I look back. My handprint is on the glass and the dolphin is still beside it.
Exhaustion overcomes me. I stagger. Joel puts his arm around my waist. I lean against him. “You’ve had quite a day haven’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
The walls blur. My legs feel like water and my knees start to give. His grip tightens. “Hold on. I’ll get you to your room.”
I nod. My head falls to his shoulder.
“Did you leave a boyfriend behind?” He pushes through the swinging double doors.
