Kenny's room was more spartan than those of the other six. His bed was plain, without extra pillows or thick comforters. He kept it adorned with the same simple, gray, military-issue blanket that was on the bed the day he arrived at the Home. His desk was bare except for the computer Dr. Cormair gave him to use for his studies. He had bookcases along one wall of his room and each bookcase was absurdly organized, each book rigid and in its place, alphabetized and organized according to a system of Kenny's own design. Each bookcase was full, but not crammed full. Kenny read everything he could get his hands on, but kept only books of information---computers, electronics, astronomy, physics, complex mathematics. Kenny's education far surpassed the education of the other six thanks to his reading and private study, but he never showed it in class or in Cormair's tests. He guarded his intelligence carefully. He had plans. They could only keep him at the Home until he was eighteen. The law books he read told him this. At eighteen, he would leave and never look back. It was almost time. He endured the arduous saga of testing and surgeries. He had survived ten years of torture and isolation. He was going to leave.
Kenny logged an entry sequence on his computer. Immediately it presented him a series of passwords. Everything he did on the computer was meticulously encrypted. He didn't want Cormair taking advantage of his intellect or discovering what he was doing online. It might compromise his plans.
Computers had always been Kenny's refuge from the Home. He was a self-taught hacker, utilizing the Home's computer systems to figure out how to effectively "leave" the Home via the cyber-realm in chat rooms, bulletin board systems, and instant messengers. He had conversations with men and women all over the world, even though it technically was outlawed because Cormair didn't want them or searching for their families or being directly influenced by individuals in the outside world. Kenny never bothered relocating his family. They'd never written to him, nor had he written to them. When he stepped onto the bus ten years ago, he had considered himself an orphan. The computers did allow him to discover things about himself, though. He found his actual date of birth. The first thing they did in the Home was told all seven of the kids that their birthdays were to be celebrated on December 31 each year. Kenny knew it was done to keep them at the Home as long as legally possible. He'd discovered his birthday, though: September 29. Only a few more weeks and he would leave the home under the cover of night, a legal adult, to find a new life, a real life.
The computer flashed an error message. Kenny frowned. He retyped his access code.
INVALID.
Kenny squinted and retyped his access code slowly, making certain the keystrokes were clean.
INVALID.
Kenny frowned. Cormair had blocked his encryptions. It happened occasionally. Cormair brought in top hackers every so often and attempted to get them to break through Kenny's defenses and restore Cormair's authoritarian control. It never worked. At the most, it only served to inconvenience Kenny for a while.
Kenny pushed back his chair and knelt on the floor next to his computer's hardware tower. He popped the side panel off, exposing the computer's assorted chip board-and-wire guts. Kenny took a deep breath and held it. He slowly stretched out his finger and touched it to the motherboard. Instantly, his body went rigid as he felt the hyper-flow of information. Data streams from the motherboard flowed directly into Kenny's mind and were instantly processed, a broken levee of information. In his mind, the data streams became three-dimensional building blocks and lengths of yarn, waiting to be strung like a game of Cat's Cradle. As easy as thinking, Kenny reset the passwords. He looped the security firewalls. He restructured the programming into a complex fortress of data for which only he had the key. Kenny then reversed the flow of information in his mind and channeled the data back into the motherboard and across the network. His hand fell from the motherboard and Kenny wiped away the sweat from his forehead. His breath was shallow and his chest hurt. He closed his eyes and waited for the stabbing pain in his head to subside.
PASSWORD ACCEPTED. GOOD EVENING, KENNETH.
The monitor displayed his desktop icons and awaited his command.
Kenny coughed and the chest tightness began to evanesce. He popped the panel back onto the tower case and pulled himself off the floor. He had been communicating with computers for three years now. As far as he knew, he was the first of the seven to gain his or her powers.
Kenny's body was heavily scarred from surgeries that Cormair had put him through when he was first brought to the home. Cormair had implanted computer hardware in Kenny's brain. He had installed pieces and parts---Kenny himself didn't know how many or what they were, but hacking into the Cormair's private files shortly after his powers manifested, he learned that Cormair was trying to create a cyborg. Part human, part machine. That was Kenny. The cyborgs in the movies were always super-strong war machines, more robot than human. Kenny was still the weak-looking, wire-rimmed glasses wearing über-nerd he had always been, but the only difference was that Kenny could speak to computers---to the entire Internet if he had to---and bend them to his will.
As far as he was concerned, that was more powerful than being a super-strong war machine.
Holly was resting her arms on her windowsill and she stared out into the night. Years ago, she had kicked out the metal screens so that she could have an unencumbered view of the gardens and the forest behind the Home. She loved to watch the wind blow the leaves, especially in the spring when the flower petals would stream down from the cherry trees like snow. She loved to take deep, cleansing breaths of the pine-scented night air. She loved to see her breath in the air in the fall. Most of all, she loved the animals she could see in the trees and the gardens.
Holly's birth family had been farmers. She could still remember the red barn with its chipped and peeling paint and the old, square farmhouse she lived in until she left for the Home. She remembered the baby animals: lambs and kids, calves and kittens. She loved animals. Perhaps that was why she developed the ability to talk to them.
A crow, elegant and dark, landed in the apple tree at the edge of the garden. Holly locked her eyes on it and the crow froze. Bring me a flower. A white flower. She sent the animal mental images of what she wanted it to do. The crow bobbed its head as if it was acknowledging her command and leapt down from the tree, spreading its wings to glide to the cobbled garden path. The crow cocked its head, found the flower, and with surgical precision, it used its beak to sever the stem and flew the flower up to Holly. It landed on the windowsill and dropped the flower into her open palm. Holly produced a small square of bread she'd sneaked from dinner and gave it to the crow, which quickly ate it and flew back to the apple tree.
Holly held the petals and inhaled deeply. The fragrance was almost overwhelming to her, a colossal medley of powerful scents. Two years ago, Holly had noticed that her sense of smell had become much, much stronger than it had been. She had noticed because a mouse had died in the garden and the stench of its rotting flesh had woken her from a sound sleep. It had been foul. Since then, she had realized that she could smell everything better. Smells weren't just smells anymore. When she walked through the fields with Posey and Indigo, she noticed the urine spray of territorial animals. Posey and Indigo couldn't smell the ammonia residue, the marks were so old and faded, but to Holly they had texture and meaning as easy to read as a billboard sign. Stay Away. My Field. They were so plain and direct that Holly had felt uncomfortable walking near them.
Shortly thereafter, Holly learned her hearing was enhanced as well. Her room was next to Kenny's room and the first thing she noticed was the constant, rhythmic pattern of his fingers on a keyboard at all hours of the night. Even a pillow over her head couldn't block the sounds. She began to realize that she could hear a grasshopper's mandibles severing through a stalk of grass at twenty paces. It took some time, but when she concentrated, she could force herself to not hear as well. It protected her from some of Cormair's tests, like the ones where he would jam tubes in her ears and
pump white sound through them until her teeth shook.
"Holly?" Posey's voice was outside her door.
"What?"
"Can I come in?"
Holly reluctantly left the window and opened the door for Posey. The lanky girl had her hair back in a ponytail and was in a short-sleeved nightshirt. She held up an uncooked bag of microwave popcorn.
"Movie night, remember?"
"What movie?"
"Doctor Sebbins got Notting Hill and The Rundown. I think she wanted everyone to be happy. C'mon! Hugh Grant---British cutie!"
"You are desperate for action, aren't you?"
"We're not all asexual like you," said Posey, poking Holly playfully in the shoulder. Holly shut her door and followed Posey down the hallway.
"Pose?"
"What?"
"You feeling okay?"
"Fine. Why?"
"The back of your neck is all rashy."
Posey sighed. "These stupid zits. I swear: Billions of dollars of research and they can't do a thing about acne."
Holly reached a finger up and touched Posey's neck. Posey yelped.
"What was that for?"
"Sorry...it just looks...odd."
"Odd?"
"Yeah, like it's not acne."
"Great, now I've got some sort of cyst or something. Just what I wanted."
Holly frowned. "It's on your arms, too."
"What?" Posey stopped and craned her neck back to look at her arm. She swiveled it back and forth. "Gross." Small, white dots were outlined down the back of both her arms to her elbows. Posey touched one and jerked her finger away. "They're sharp!"
Holly put her hand on Posey's shoulders, tracing between her shoulders along the line of spines. "They're across your back, too, Pose."
"What?" Posey shot an awkward arm over her head and felt them with her fingers. "Oh my god. What is this? Why me?" She turned and looked at Holly, her face was gaunt. "What am I going to do, Holly? This is what they're looking for isn't it? This is what they've been waiting to see from us all these years."
Holly couldn't say anything. She'd been hiding her abilities for everyone for some time, even from Posey, who was like her sister.
Posey turned back to Holly, her eyes were wide. "You cannot tell anyone. Okay, Hol? You can't tell. I don't even want to know what they'll do to me if they find out."
"But Posey, if these get worse, you might need help."
"Don't tell them! I'm serious, Holly! Do not tell them!"
"I won't," said Holly. Worry began to gnaw at her.
Fat, wet tears began to pool in the corners of Posey's eyes. "Why does bad stuff always happen to me? I'm tall. I'm ugly. I have this stupid zit face and big beaky nose. And now I'm becoming the freak-of-nature science project that Cormair wanted."
"Don't cry, Posey. Sebbins will know something is up."
"Don't tell me what to do, Holly. Look at me! I was never pretty, and ever since I got here, I've just been getting uglier and uglier...and now I'm some sort of mutant."
"You're not."
"I am!" Posey shrieked. Her voice cracked into a painfully high octave that seemed to scrape against Holly's eardrums like razors.
"Pose!" Holly reached out and grabbed Posey's arm.
"Stop it! Just, leave me alone, Holly. I need to be alone!" Posey yanked her arm away and threw the bag of microwave popcorn at Holly. "Leave me alone!" Posey stormed down the hall.
Andy's door opened and he stuck his head into the hall. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" yelled Holly. "Leave it alone, Andy!"
"I didn't do anything!" Andy protested. "Is it illegal to ask a simple question?"
Posey suddenly arched backward in pain and crumpled to the ground screaming.
Holly raced to her side, sliding to a stop. "What? What's wrong? What hurts?"
"My back! My shoulders! It feels like my skin is tearing apart!"
Doctor Sebbins suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. "Posey? Posey, I'm here!"
Posey was sobbing and twisting in agony. "Oh god! Please help me, Doctor!" Blood stains began to show on the back shoulder area of Posey's nightshirt, red and wet through the cotton.
"Hold her still for me, Holly. Andy, I can use you, too." Doctor Sebbins produced a latex glove from her pocket, ripped it on, and began to palpate Posey's back while Andy fell to his knees next to Posey and held her by the shoulders.
Posey shrieked in pain again. "Please help me! It's burning!"
Dr. Sebbins grabbed at the back of Posey's nightshirt. She used a pair of scissors from the pocket of her lab coat and made a cut through the ribbed neckband. Then, she jerked the nightshirt open to reveal Posey's back. "What are those?"
Two bloody lumps had appeared on Posey's back, jutting out from her shoulder blades. Each of the lumps had a gnarled, bony-looking knob in the center.
Holly pointed and stifled a yelp. "What is happening to her? What are those things?"
"What? What's wrong with me?" Posey shrieked. "What's happening?"
"We've got to get you to the labs, Posey," said Dr. Sebbins. "Andy, I need you to carry her down there for me. Gently, now. Holly, I need you to call Doctor Cormair and tell him to come to the lab right away. Also, I want you to page Nurse Hathcock and ask her to come on the double." Holly ran to one of the intercoms on the wall and pressed the numbers that summoned Cormair and Nurse Hathcock to the lab.
"What is wrong with my back?" cried Posey.
Andy lifted her gently. "I don't know, Posey," he said. Andy smiled at her reassuringly and headed down to the labs with Doctor Sebbins on his heels.
Holly watched them go. The other doors in the residence hall opened and John, Indigo, and Sarah joined Holly in the hallway, wrapping her in a sidelong hug.
"I guess this is it," said John. "I guess it begins. This is what Cormair has been working toward."
Sarah looked down at Holly. "Was this her power?"
Holly was in a daze. Her mind was spinning. Was this sort of thing going to happen to her, too? Would it happen to all of them?
"Cormair's going to keep her away from us, isn't he?" said Holly.
"He's finally got his lab rat," said Indigo. "Posey's going to be examined, worked over, and tested to death."
"Don't say that, Indigo," said Sarah.
"At least he won't be coming for any of the rest of us for a while," said Indigo. "We pretty much get a 'Get-Out-of-Being-Tested-Free Card' here."
"That's a heartless bitch kind of thing to say," said Sarah. "Posey is our sister."
"Maybe your sister, round-eye, but she ain't my sister."
"Indigo, stifle it. We don't need attitude right now. This is a time when we need to stick together more than ever," said John. "If Posey has begun to show the changes from all our years of testing, you know that the rest of us probably will, too."
"I already have," said Holly quietly.
"What?" said John.
Holly swallowed hard and tried to get some confidence in her voice. "I said I've already changed. I have powers."
"What?"
"I can talk to animals. I can speak to them. I understand their languages." Holly was so scared she was shaking. She had come to terms with her abilities some time ago, but to actually speak about them out loud---it sounded like the rant of a crazy woman. "I can make animals do things for me. I can hear and smell really well, too."
"That's insane," said John.
"You had a Swiss Cake Roll this morning for breakfast," said Holly.
"You saw me have it," said John.
"I slept in this morning. I didn't have breakfast. I can still smell it on your breath."
John slumped back against the wall. "That's messed up."
"And Indigo---I know you smoked a cigarette this weekend when you snuck out. I can still smell it in your hair and on your skin."
Indigo blushed. "I did. But I showered like five times since then."
"Doesn't matter to me," said Holly. "I can still smell it."
"That's impressive," said John.
"And Sarah---you were in a cave today, a cave that's usually inhabited by pine martens in the winter."
"What?" yelped Sarah. "Gross! What's a pine marten?"
Andy came back up the stairs. He looked worried. "Sebbins took Posey away from me as soon as we got to the labs. Cormair was already there. They slammed the doors shut and locked them. I don't even know what they're going to do. What are we talking about?"
"Powers," said Sarah. "Holly's got 'em."
"I talk to animals," Holly whispered.
Indigo sighed. "I turned on my stereo today."
"So?" Holly said. "Big deal. So did I."
"With my mind. From across the room."
"Oh," said Holly.
"I'm pretty sure I'm telekinetic. That stereo thing was the first time anything like that ever happened, but that's what I think they've been training me for. Every time I go into the labs lately, Seb's been all like 'Pretend you have an invisible arm.' They want me to move blocks and stuff. It's got to be telekinesis."
"Aw, man," sighed Andy. "Nothing has happened to me, yet. This sucks." He and Sarah exchanged a look.
"Me neither," said John. "Telekinetic! That would be so cool."
"Are you sure that nothing has happened to you?" asked Indigo. She was eyeing John suspiciously.
"I am," said Andy.
"I wasn't asking you, big dummy. John---look at yourself. You have muscles like a weightlifter. How many weights do you lift each day?"
The Seven Page 3
