by Tina Chan
“Squawk!”
He flinched in surprise and peered down into the wooden crate; five or six chickens milled about aimlessly.
“Hey, guys. Sorry to crash your party,” he said.
Troop laid himself down inside the crate, ignoring the chickens’ clucks of indignation. Then he slid the cover of the crate back in place. The slates of the crate allowed some light to filter through; the gaps created by the wooden slates also allowed him a limited view of what was going on outside.
The automatic door whooshed open and Troop heard rustling and the thud of someone dropping something heavy. A few seconds later, the door swooshed open once more. Troop saw a pair of black dress shoes make their way out the room.
He counted at least five different people come and leave the holding room. I wonder how long it’s going to be before someone moves the crate I’m in. Perhaps I should try a different tactic.
“Let’s see, I have to move box number fifty to Lab N,” said a feminine voice.
The speaker’s high heels tip-tapped across the floor. Please let this crate of chickens be box number fifty, Troop thought. The shoes strode right past him. Okay, once this person leaves, I’m getting out of here and coming up with a different plan.
The automatic doors hummed open again and another person wheeled a cart into the holding room.
“Hi, Jack,” said the woman. “Do you know where box fifty is? I can’t locate it.”
“Check over there,” Jack suggested. “I think it’s beside that really tall box.”
There was a pause and some scuffling noises. “Oh—got it. Thanks.”
The pair of red stilettos click-clacked through the doors and out the room. Troop thought it was a minor miracle that the woman managed to keep her balance on those ridiculously high heels.
“Gosh, this thing’s heavy,” a male—Jack’s, Troop assumed—voice grunted.
Troop felt one end of the crate tip upwards. Finally.
The opposite end of the crate was lifted upwards then laid down until everything was level once more. The chickens fluttered their wings at the movement. Troop squirmed, the prickly straw padding poking into his back. He felt like he was lying in a coffin. A very itchy and poultry-smelling coffin.
The wheels whirred beneath Troop as the cart launched into motion.
“Somebody must’ve ordered extra chickens,” Jack said. “Subject number twenty-three sure is lucky.”
Troop gazed out the slates of the crate, watching a parade of legs pass by him. The chickens at last left Troop alone and stopped pecking at him. The checkered floor scrolled by, momentarily hypnotizing him.
“What do you have there?” a gruff voice demanded.
The cart stopped. Troop gauged the speaker stood a good distance from Jack.
“Chickens,” said Jack.
“ID?” A pause, then, “Alright. Fingerprint scan.”
There was a soft bleep.
“You’re cleared.”
A mechanical lock buzzed to life and Jack pushed the cart into the East Wing. Troop allowed himself a mental victory dance.
“I don’t see why we still need to upkeep subject twenty-three if it’s just going to be put down in a few hours,” Jack said to himself. “Such a waste of resources.”
Jack drove the cart straight down the hall, and then turned into a room branching off the main hallway. From his point of view, Troop couldn’t see any other people in the room aside from him and Jack.
“I have your lunch, twenty-three,” said Jack. “Hope you enjoy your final meal.”
Troop propped himself up with his elbows to get a better look at subject twenty-three, bumping his head against the top of the crate in the process of doing so. He bit back a string of curses.
“No need to get all hyped up, chickens,” said Jack. “It’s not like you’ll live to see another day.”
Troop tilted his head and stared at the large, metal cage directly in line with his field of view. Oh, shit. Why does subject twenty-three have to be a tiger?
chapter forty
[ Kristi ]
“There you are. I just finished drying the window in the hallway and didn’t know where you went,” Chelsa said, walking over beside Kristi.
“Good, you’re here,” Kristi said softly to her once she was within earshot. “Take a look around this room.”
Chelsa took in her surroundings and let out a faint gasp. “We’re definitely getting closer to the answer of the Disappearance Case.”
“There were cats, rabbits and mice in the North Wing of New Genes Lab,” Kristi said. “Now there are primates in the East Wing. I think we both can predict what we’ll find in the South Wing.”
Both of them stared wide-eyed at each other, reaching the same conclusion. Neither of them had predicted that the government would be conducting experiments on the Accidents. And of course, there was also the question of why the government would want to conduct experiments on the Accidents in the first place.
“How did you get into the East Wing?” Kristi asked Chelsa.
Chelsa spread a glob of cleaning foam onto the window Kristi was wiping down.
“Some distracted bloke had too many electro-slates to carry by himself. I offered to help him carry some of the slates and the guards allowed me to pass through the door accompanying him without a question.”
“Do you want to wait for Tro—Kennedy or not?” Kristi remembered to use Troop’s Cleandows ID name at the last second.
“Sure. Want to give him five minutes then move on?”
Kristi nodded.
chapter forty-one
[ Troop ]
The tiger rumbled and bared its saber-like fangs.
“No need to get all hissy on me, twenty-three,” Jack said.
Troop gripped his black toolbox so tight his knuckles turned white. Jack’s footsteps echoed in the small, square room.
Crrkk. The cover of the crate grated open.
Troop bolted upright. Jack widened his eyes in astonishment.
“What are—” Jack began to say.
Troop slammed the heavy toolbox into Jack’s temple. Jack crumpled to the floor like a piece of paper. A thin line of blood oozed on the side of his head.
Subject twenty-three sniffed the air and let out a growl.
Troop nudged Jack with his foot. The scientist remained unconscious. Then he walked over to the single window of the room and slid up the panel. Next, he returned to the crate of chickens.
“Lucky day for you. I’m saving you guys from becoming tiger food.”
Troop caught and released each chicken out through the window. Subject twenty-three mournfully looked at its lunch escaping before its eyes.
Chicken-freeing task completed, Troop heaved Jack into the now-empty crate. The man’s lanky frame barely fit in the box; he had to bend Jack’s legs to ensure he was completely within the crate.
Jack let out a soft moan. Troop didn’t hesitate to give him another bash to the head. Then Troop opened up his toolbox and removed the bottle of window glue. He applied a thin layer of the adhesive around the rim of the crate and slid the crate’s cover back in place; someone was bound to find Jack when they came to kill the tiger. In the meantime, Jack wouldn’t be able to alert Troop’s presence to others.
Troop cracked open the door and slid into the East Wing hallway. Time to find Kristi and Chelsa.
chapter forty-two
[ Kristi ]
Kristi chewed on her bottom lip. Troop still hadn’t shown up after ten minutes.
“We really ought to go,” Chelsa said.
“Two more minutes. Give him two more minutes. If he still isn’t here, then we’ll leave.”
Chelsa sighed, but complied with her wishes.
“Come on, where are you?” Kristi muttered.
“I’m here,” Troop’s voice said over her shoulders.
“Jeepers! Don’t creep up behind people like that,” Kristi said. “It’s rude to surprise people by sneaking up on them.”
“Well, that wasn’t the greeting I was hoping to get. Are you two finished checking out this room?”
“Yeah. Let’s move onto the next room.”
She finished drying the window (which was thoroughly cleaned after being cleaned a total of three times by Chelsa and her). They left Lab E and proceeded to investigate the next room down the hall, which happened to be Report Room D. Kristi wondered what the heck was a Report Room. Her question was quickly answered when they peeked inside.
Rows upon rows of smart-glass desks lined Report Room D in an orderly fashion. Staff feverishly typed away documents at their desks. Kristi silently backed out of the room, not wanting to disturb the peace.
“We’ve been here for two hours already,” she said when they returned to the main hall. “We should hurry up and finish our business here.”
“Then let’s skip the rest of the rooms in the East Wing and go straight to the South Wing,” Troop said.
“We are not splitting apart this time though,” Kristi said.
She feared being alone after seeing the woman that gave her the disturbing smile. Goosebumps still covered her arms, even though at least fifteen minutes had passed.
“We’ll probably have to split up to get into the South Wing, though,” said Chelsa. “Chances are that security is the tightest in the South Wing compared to the West, North and East Wing.”
They walked onwards, each person lost in their own thoughts. Kristi rubbed the itch on her nose. Then she stopped dead in her tracks.
Saying the security to the South Wing was strict would be the understatement of the century. Kristi watched a scientist pass through a blood test, three finger scans, two retina scans, a metal detector, an ID check, and a pat down followed by a series of security question all the while being accompanied by two armed guards. She didn’t even want to think about the security level inside the South Wing and what would happened if it was discovered that they were imposters.
“Crap,” she muttered. “Finn, if you’re watching this, we could really use some help.”
“You just stole the words from my mouth,” Troop said.
Unfortunately, Finn didn’t send them help and Kristi didn’t possess the ability to teleport the three of them past the security.
“You people cleaning the windows in the South Wing?” a guard barked out at them.
“Uh—” Kristi froze, unsure of how to reply.
“Yes, we are,” Troop cut in.
Chelsa and Kristi exchanged looks. What is Troop thinking? A simple check to the front desk of New Genes Lab and the guards will realize we aren’t supposed to be here, Kristi thought.
She resisted the urge to rub her nose again. For some reason, her nose was really starting to itch and her eyes felt raw and watery.
“I need your ID cards.” A guard sauntered over to them and ran their cards through a handheld scanner.
Next, he had each of them scan their fingerprints. However, the scanner refused to recognize any of their prints; an error message kept popping up when the guard attempted to scan their fingerprints.
“Stupid scanner,” the guard said. “I keep on filing a request for a new scanner but it keeps on getting turned down.”
“Let me try,” another guard said. “It worked just fine a minute ago.”
Once again, the scanner couldn’t read their fingerprints.
“Whatever,” said first guard. “It’s not like some window cleaners are going to be terrorists. They barely look like they’ve just graduated from college.”
The patronizing tone in his voice ticked Kristi off just the tiniest bit.
“Okay, we need to perform a retina scan and blood test on each of you,” said the second guard.
Likewise with the fingerprint scan though, none of the devices functioned properly. The retina scanner wouldn’t turn on and the blood tester kept on announcing their blood type to be unidentifiable. It was as if the three of them didn’t exist, according to the government database.
Kristi began to suspect it was Finn’s doing that everything was malfunctioning except for the metal detector, which they went through without a hitch.
“You guys can pass.” The first guard lazily motioned for them to go through the entrance to the South Wing.
The other guard fidgeted with his stun gun nervously. “I don’t think we should allow them entry into the South Wing. Technically, they didn’t pass the blood, retina and fingerprint test.”
“They didn’t fail it either,” replied the first guard. “And they’ve already signed the oath of secrecy when they entered this building, so they can’t speak of what they see in the South Wing. If it makes you feel better, we can check with the secretary to confirm that they are supposed to be here.”
This is where everything starts to spiral down to hell, Kristi thought to herself. The guards were going to find out the three Cleandows weren’t supposed to be in the South Wing and they’ll end up getting asked questions they couldn’t answer without giving away the truth.
“Hello? This is Hilton,” a guard spoke into his walkie-talkie.
“This is Julia,” the secretary replied. The sound quality of the walkie-talkie was so faultless Kristi would’ve sworn Julia was standing in the room next to them if she was blindfolded.
“I would like to verify three Cleandows workers with the names of Dakota, Kennedy and Helen are authorized to enter the South Wing for window cleaning,” Hilton said.
“I don’t remember any of the South Wing windows needing a repair or wash job. Hold on a second while I check on my electro-slate.” There was a pause, then Julia spoke again. “Never mind—I was wrong. It seems like ten of the windows in the South Wing need to have their panels cleaned.”
“Thanks, Julia.”
“No problem.”
“See, what did I tell you?” the first guard said to the second. “We’re not breaching any security measures by letting them into the South Wing.”
They stepped aside and allowed Kristi, Troop and Chelsa to file between them and into the South Wing. Kristi was expecting to step into a long hallway like she did in the West, North and East Wings. Instead, the South Wing was really just one huge, open room. The ceiling was a minimum of three stories high, even though the South Wing only had one level. The entire learning center could’ve fit into the room with space to spare.
Out of the blue, Kristi felt the urge to sneeze build up inside her; she pinched the bridge of her nose and eventually the urge faded away. On the other hand, her eyes were as irritated as ever.
“I think I’m allergic to something in the lab,” she said in a low enough voice so that only Troop and Chelsa could hear; Perfects didn’t have allergies and she would immediately stand out if she had an allergic reaction.
“Don’t rub your eyes,” Troop said when she raised her hand to her face. “It’ll only make it worse.”
That was when Kristi noticed parts of Troop’s clothing were covered with feathers. “Troop, why does it look like a bird decided to molt on you?”
“I snuck into the East Wing in crate shared with chickens,” he said.
“Crap.”
“What?”
“I’m allergic to birds.”
“Crap,” Troop echoed her words.
“Don’t sneeze,” Chelsa advised.
“I’m trying not to,” Kristi said. “Come on, let’s wrap up our business here before snot starts dripping down my face.”
Chelsa made a face. “Lovely thought. Thank you for the imagery.”
“Anytime.”
They nonchalantly wandered throughout the room. Documents covered several smart-glass desks.
“Think of those poor trees that were killed to make all these papers. What a waste of resources,” Troop said.
Most of the desks had a person seated over it, so they couldn’t read what was written on those papers. But, by pure chance, a scientist a few desks away from them stood up from his desk and let out a huge stretch. Then he walked awa
y, presumably to stretch his legs or answer the call of nature.
Kristi hurried over to the unguarded report left lying on the desk. She skimmed over the contents:
Name: Dr. Leemers
Experiment: DNA Alterations for Stronger Teeth
Test Subject #: 216
Results: Doubling the genetic material on section K of chromosome 23 does indeed result in stronger teeth on subject 216. However, subject 216’s teeth grew continuously and constantly needed to be filed down. Subject 261 also experienced loss of appetite after the DNA alteration. Subject 216 was injected with the final sleep shot on November 17th.
Conclusion: Doubling the genetic material found on section K of chromosome 23 is not a viable option for usage among citizens.
The rest of the report was a thorough account the entire experiment. The procedures for the experiment were well documented with pictures and descriptions. Subject 216 an Accident who had died at a young age of two months. Reading the report made venom towards Dr. Leemers boil up within Kristi.
“This is sick,” she said. “How can they kill an infant?”
“Oh, my god,” Chelsa said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Kristi said.
“No, you don’t understand what I mean.”
Kristi realized Chelsa wasn’t even looking at the report anymore. “What is it?” she asked.
“Look.”
Kristi followed her gaze. On the far side of the room were rows of cribs. A number was pinned onto each crib and a tranquilized baby slept in each one. Further to the right of the cribs were toddlers kept in pens; most were fast asleep. The few that were awake seemed pretty groggy, so she suspected their sedatives were just beginning to wear off. There weren’t many toddlers—thirty at most compared to at least a hundred infants.
Some of the Accidents looked normal while others did not. A small, freckled toddler no older than three was babbling a string of meaningless words. Another Accident was fast asleep in her pen; her hair was a turquoise color. The girl woke up and looked at Kristi straight in the eyes, as if it was she who had woken her up from a nap. When the girl grinned at Kristi, she recoiled back in surprise; the blue-haired toddler’s teeth were fang-like and carnivorous.
