by Linsey, Tam
Rising, he spotted a gamma pad on the small table next to the bed. Tula must have left it there earlier. Hands itching to put his feelings on paper, he picked up the device and swiped a hand across the surface. A partially played game of chess appeared on the screen. The unfinished moves of Tula’s game made him ache. Clenching his teeth, he exited the game and found the drawing program.
He sat and stared at the blank screen. All he could think to draw was Tula. Always her smile, her blue eyes, the gentle curve of her neck and shoulder. Of its own volition, his hand created a swoop, and then the fall of the necklace she’d been wearing at lunch. Such primitive baubles for such an advanced community. But then, it had come from one of the lesser members of the society. Where would Tula rank among all the scientists?
He needed to stop thinking of her. To focus on his goal. Josef. He tried to call to memory his son’s face, to put the child on the screen. The image would not come. How could he not remember every detail of his own child? He’d been gone so long. In the dungeon of the Blattvolk, he’d had no way to tell the passing of days except by the arrival of meals, and he’d lost count. The same as the artificial state of existence the Fosselites chose to live in here in their mountain.
Perhaps Tula was right. She did belong here, in an artificial environment, among people who accepted her green skin. The Old Order would condemn her on sight. God was protecting her. She could not come with him, but she had provided the means to save Josef. Perhaps that was God’s intent all along. He had to trust in God’s plan.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he finished the drawing of Tula.
In an exhausted, tear-induced doze, Tula thought she heard a soft knock on the door. If Levi came to see her now, she would break. The knock sounded again, two tiny taps. She wiped her eyes on the bedcovers and rose. Shoulders back, she prepared herself to be cold, firm. She opened the door. “Michael,” she said in a rush of air. “What are you doing here?”
He pointed a thick finger to her tear stained cheek then looked quickly away.
That did it. A single, heart wrenching shudder and she broke. “I have to stay.” She felt a hand pat her on the shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort. Pulling herself together, she smiled through her tears and took his hand in hers. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you worry.”
He gave a sigh that spoke of compassion far better than words would have.
“You are a good friend, Michael. I’m glad I have you here since I’m going to be staying. Are you here to give me a tour? Maybe get me a little light?”
She’d been without sunlight over twenty-four hours, and the low blood sugar from lack of sun made her feel a bit woozy. Or maybe it was the crying. She liked to believe it was lack of sunlight. Dr. Kaneka said they had a solution to her photosynthetic needs, and she assumed that meant whatever light source they used in the hydroponics section.
Michael’s face fell and he dropped her hand. His brows drew together in a pained look.
“Your father said you’d had Haldanian guests before. Maybe you could show me where they stayed?”
Michael glanced down both sides of the hall and then nodded. He shambled out of the doorframe, looking behind to make sure Tula followed. After many forks and turns, the lighting grew sparse until they reached a metal door. The placard read “Phytogenics.” He paused with his hand on the knob, and looked at her as if asking if this was what she really wanted. She smiled in reassurance.
He bent to use the key card on the lanyard around his neck and stepped inside. They were in the lab he’d brought her to that first day when he’d carried her away from the crazy woman. Michael pulled on a radiation suit from the far wall, and she remembered the Fosselites’ aversion to sunlight. Apparently, they had to protect themselves from the hydroponic lights, as well.
Once he was dressed, he offered her a suit.
She waved it away. “I’ll be okay.”
He shook his head and pushed the suit closer.
After a moment of hesitation, Tula acquiesced and struggled into it, although she was longing for some photosynthesis. Wearing heavy clothing was unfamiliar, and she felt trapped as she moved toward the door behind Michael.
The first door led into a tiny antechamber with a second door directly across the way. As he opened the second door, intense light speared the room. She flinched, closing her eyes before she realized the suit and visor shielded her. With light this bright, she’d only need a couple hours or less exposure a day to fulfill her blood sugar needs.
Michael stepped into the room and waited on the other side of the door. She peered around the corner, expecting frills of foliage. Instead, six gurneys lined up like in a triage unit, each flanked by a beeping monitor and several IV stands. Above the beds, huge halogen reflectors beamed light directly onto the patients strapped to the beds.
Green skinned patients.
Haldanians.
“What…” Confusion cluttered her mind. On stiff legs, she approached the nearest bed and looked into the ravaged face of a dark haired woman. “Greta.” The name came to her lips without thinking. This was a woman who’d reverted six months ago. Not one of Tula’s, but she remembered the euthanization orders.
Frantic, she moved to the next bed, and the next. Two of the beds held a pair of twins she’d converted over a year ago. One of her most heartbreaking failures. Vitus had warned her twins were impossible, because each twin would always remind the other of her past. But Tula had been determined to save them. After seven months of stealing excess food, attempts to escape, and episodes of violence against fellow students, the twins were sent to euthanization. Or so Tula had believed.
She turned to Michael, who watched from the door. “How did they get here?” Her voice echoed off the visor of her suit.
He shrugged, the fit of his suit a bit too small to allow his shoulders to fully rise.
“I know these girls. All these people are supposed to be dead.” Inside the confines of her helmet, she struggled for air. But she couldn’t risk removing the protective clothing. “What are they doing here?” She turned to a boy with a mane of golden hair who reminded her of Levi when he’d first arrived at the Protectorate.
Following the line of the IV, she saw the familiar telomerase setup. Behind the boy’s ear, another line snaked across the gurney to terminate at a valve. Bending closer to the boy’s head, Tula discovered the line led to a brain shunt. What had Dr. Kaneka said about Haldanian steroids? Something about the blood brain barrier. Were these “test subjects?” She jerked upright and spun to face Michael, the suit hampering her movement.
“Is this what’s in store for me?”
Michael didn’t meet her eyes as he shrugged once again.
“I need to get out of here.” She hurried out into the lab, her stomach roiling. The protein drink they’d provided at lunch felt like poison in her system. Once out of the light, she ripped off her hood and gulped huge draughts of air. Recirculated air. She was trapped inside a mountain. Trapped inside the stiff fabric of the radiation suit. Every crease in her skin dripped with nervous perspiration. As she struggled to free herself from the grasp of the suit, she heard voices from the hall.
“… VP shunt until the infection clears.” The door opened and Dr. Kaneka froze, his blood-curdled eyes wide as he assessed the scene. Another man stood behind him, his mouth hanging open.
“Michael?” Dr. Kaneka asked. Then he sighed. “Tula.” He shook his head. “I really wish you hadn’t seen any of that.”
Levi tossed and turned in bed, his excessive movement continually triggering the automatic lights in the ceiling. Sitting up, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He needed rest if he was to make good time tomorrow. But hurt and anger circled his brain like a pair of turkey buzzards. Why would God let him love her, then take her away? Just like He’d taken Sarah. Was everyone Levi loved to be ripped from his life?
The clock on the bed table read 3:12. He could only assume that meant AM. The sun would
rise in a few hours. Bleary eyed, he looked around the sparse room. Resting in the chair, the new carrying pack Dr. Kaneka had provided sat upright and ready to go. Stuffed in the bottom, the blanket, robe, and sheer lab coat would be his only warmth for the journey. And his only memories of Tula. The water bottles rested in a jumble on top, filled from the tap in Levi’s bathroom. The remaining first aid items had their own exterior pocket, and the cannibal knife had another. He hoped the stiff fabric was sturdy enough to resist the blade’s edge. Everything fit nicely, with a padded, interior pouch specifically for the beacon.
He clambered out of bed. If he could not sleep, he might as well get on with saving Josef. The slipper shoes the Fosselites had given him would not last long on his journey home, but he was happy for their protection for the time being. He dressed, downed a long drink of water from the tap, and shouldered the pack.
Before opening the door, he looked around the room one last time to be sure he had everything. The gamma pad lay on the bedside table, and he was tempted to take it. But he’d not been invited to keep it. The sketches of Tula would be in there somewhere, even though he thought he’d erased them. Like the ones he’d erased with the Blattvolk. It didn’t matter. Let them think what they would.
He opened the door and stepped outside to be confronted by the man in the red tunic from the library. The man didn’t even pretend to smile this time. He put the flat of his hand against Levi’s chest. “Stay.”
“I’m ready to be on my way. To go.” Levi jostled the pack on his back for emphasis. He didn’t like the man touching him.
The man looked between the pack and Levi, a frown on his face. He held up a finger and lifted his forearm to his mouth to speak a few words. A band around his wrist spouted Dr. Kaneka’s sleep-thick voice in return.
With a flick of his other hand, the man indicated for Levi to follow. He strode ahead, and Levi forced his feet to keep up. Now that he was actually leaving, his legs didn’t want to cooperate. He’d been unconscious when they carried him to his room, and he had no bearings for where the outer door might be. He tried to keep track of the placards next to the doors along the way.
As they passed open double doors, he heard crying. The red-tunic guard didn’t halt to glance inside, but Levi couldn’t help himself.
Alone in the dim room, on a plush chair in front of a dark computer screen, the big man Tula had befriended sat hunched. Levi faltered. “Michael?”
Ahead of Levi, the guard turned and called out. Michael looked up and Levi saw his giant fist clenched around a string of feathers and baubles.
“Levi!” the guard barked, close enough now to clamp a hand around Levi’s arm.
Michael held out the necklace. His long face was creased with tears. From his mouth came a moan. “Doo-aaaaa.”
Levi began to tremble. The guard tugged on his arm while speaking into the wristband. Levi jerked free of the guard’s grasp and stepped into the room. “Tula? Is she hurt?” He gasped out, unable to take a full breath.
Bowing his head over the necklace, Michael rocked forward and back.
Had the big man hurt her? Levi stepped close enough to touch him. “Michael, where is Tula?” At the door, several sleepy individuals in nightshirts gathered. The guard advanced on Levi and grabbed him firmly by the backpack to propel him from the room. Levi craned his neck to look over his shoulder. “Michael!”
Rising from the chair, Michael ambled after them.
“Wait. I want to see Tula. I want to see Dr. Kaneka.” Levi’s demands fell on deaf ears.
Digging in his heels, he grabbed at the nearest bystander, shouting, “Dr. Kaneka!” When he saw the Down’s Syndrome eyes, he abandoned that person for another, and another. Each person babbled unintelligibly as the guard bullied through the crowd. Where were the real Fosselites?
More people arrived to press tighter and tighter in the narrow hallway, mumbling, seeking explanation for the chaos. The guard shouted past him, but no one seemed to heed. Then the pressure eased, and the guard no longer had him. He could still hear the man’s shouts. From behind, a big hand wrapped around Levi’s , and he found himself following Michael deeper into the compound.
Tula bucked against the restraints. Ultraviolet drilled into her exposed skin. They’d taken her skirt, leaving her more exposed than she’d ever felt before. She screamed again, her cries echoing off the barren walls. Bodies of fellow Haldanians twitched as if in empathy, but they remained blessedly unconscious.
Someone in a radiation suit loomed over her. Through the visor she could make out the blood red eyes of Dr. Kaneka. “I’ll need a thumbprint, if you don’t mind.” He pressed her quivering thumb to a sensor. “And a retinal scan before the chemicals overwhelm you.” Forcing her eye to remain open with a thumb and forefinger, he scanned her eye.
“Why are you doing this?” Her words came out mush as the chemicals flooded her system.
“Your friend has taken the beacon and will lead us to his settlement. Our agreement still stands. I’m simply assuring there will be no legal complications if I ever need to present my findings to your Board. Dr. Dedecus has been a fine subject, but his autoimmune disease is rejecting the symbiosis.”
“Vitus Dedecus?” She gasped, overcome by tremors.
“I’ll be inserting symbiotic fungi into your bio system which will self replicate telomerase and make the need for drip treatment a thing of the past. Until now, the fungi have been unable to function in ultraviolet exposed individuals. I’ve developed a new resistant strain. Quite revolutionary. You will be an excellent test subject for extreme solar exposure.”
“You’re making me immortal?”
“Oh, no! You will live longer under full exposure than you would otherwise, but like I explained before, the telomerase alone is not a cure for mortality. I’d hoped Dr. Dedecus’s ripening would act as a natural immunoreactive, but his T-cells have become non-selective.” He calibrated the machine next to her. “Ah, well. At any rate, the fungi should reduce the cost of our steroid production one hundred fold. One step closer!”
A cold horror settled below her breastbone. “You’re harvesting Haldanians.”
“It is so nice to have a patient who understands the science behind my experiments.” He patted her arm. “These others are no more than cannibals.”
“So are you!” She struggled harder against her bonds. The straps dug into her skin, rubbing it raw.
He glanced down at her with disdain through the visor of his suit. “We are nothing of the sort. We are scientists. Would it be better to waste your prisoners? We are developing technology that will allow humanity to live forever. A few Haldanians who were scheduled to die anyway is a small price to pay.”
“Tell that to your test subjects.”
He bent low and looked directly into her eyes. “I just did.”
They stood before a door with a placard that read “Phytogenics.” The soft wail of a siren filled the empty hallways. Illuminated only by widely spaced emergency lights, Michael stood in the narrow corridor, stroking repeatedly at the center of his chest, and tried the door again.
Levi’s heart beat so hard he felt the pressure in his eyes. Tula must be behind that door. “Who has a key?” Levi nudged.
Michael twisted his fingers until his enormous knuckles grew painfully white. Turning first one direction, then another, he seemed to consider. Finally, he turned and rushed down the hall in the direction they’d come from. Glad for his experience hiding from cannibals in the tunnels as a child, Levi made note of how to return to this door.
Dr. Kaneka’s voice erupted over the sound of the siren. Michael stopped at a door with only a number and pounded on it. Almost immediately, a Down’s Syndrome woman looked up at the big man, then at Levi.
Michael made a hand motion and the woman stepped aside. Entering behind Michael, Levi again halted in shock. At a small table with an open book before her sat Rosalee.
She blinked at the newcomers. “Michael?” She formed another
question Levi didn’t understand.
Moving quicker than usual, the big man plucked a gamma pad from a bedside table. Tip of his tongue protruding from his mouth, he slowly scrawled on the surface. He handed the pad to Rosalee.
She scanned the screen, then considered Levi and nodded, rising to her feet. She went to a shelf holding double rows of worn books and removed one. Opening the book, she retrieved a card and held it out to Michael. The big man hugged her, snatched the card, and offered it to Levi in triumph.
Levi accepted the card and shot a look to Rosalee. “What is going on?”
“No time to explain. Save her. This is the key. Go, now.”
Over the loudspeaker, Dr. Kaneka’s voice pierced the air. Rosalee’s already pale face drained of remaining color. “He’s given orders to stop you. In any way necessary. Go!” She pushed both men out the door ahead of her. The three of them rushed toward Phytogenics.
The light tubes in the once darkened hallway flickered on. Down the corridor, a guard stood at their destination.
Before Levi could react, Rosalee launched forward, screeching and clawing at the man. The guard threw up his hands to ward her off, stepping backward down the corridor. Michael moved in, allowing Levi access to the door.
Levi looked between the card he held in one sweaty palm and the pad next to the door. Rosalee had called this a key, but it was nothing like the few keys he’d seen back home, where locks were only used to keep children out of dangerous areas.
On the pad near the door handle, a red light gleamed above a slot sized the same as the card. With trembling hands, he guided the card into the slot. Nothing happened. He pushed harder, but it hit a stop at the back. He took two tries to pull the card back out. Looking over the card, he saw a triangle that might be considered an arrow.
Next to him, the struggle between the three Fosselites was over. Rosalee lay on the cement floor, unconscious, while Michael held the guard in a bear hug. The big man’s face contorted in pain as the guard kicked and bucked against him, roaring unintelligible words.
