The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments)

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Jake?” Cal pulled away slowly. “Thank you.” She stood on tip toes and kissed him gently on the cheek and his eyes closed again as she did.

  “You’re welcome.” Jake suddenly felt cold as Cal moved away and he ran his hand down his chest. “Oh shit. I’m half naked. I’ll put some clothes on.” He stepped backwards. “Let me grab a shirt, and I’ll help you clean up this mess I made in your room.” He darted out.

  “Jake . . .” Cal shook her head. “The man is worried about a shirt when he’s wearing underwear with an opening in front…” She saw Jake quickly came back in, pulling a sweatshirt over his head.

  “I’ll just pick up the plaster.” Jake pointed. “I don’t want you to worry about having to sleep with this mess.” He started picking up the wall from the floor.

  “So do you think I’m the only one they’re messing with?”

  “I doubt it. Of course, like you, who wants to tell anyone?” He carried his handful of plaster to the waste basket. “We knew they were going to pull something, right?”

  “Yes. All right, figured they’d use my daughter against me. They go after people’s weaknesses. What do you think?”

  Jake brushed off his hands. “I think you’re right. And if that’s the case, we have to figure out what people’s weaknesses are.”

  “O.K., so what’s your weakness, Major Graison?”

  “Right now . . . you.” Jake moved to her bed not even noticing the surprise look on Cal’s face. “And they aren’t going to get that weakness, because I’m making sure they don’t get you.”

  “Why do you feel you have to protect me? I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can.” Jake grabbed her pillow, straightening the case. “But can you let me do this please. Let me protect you. For the first time in my life I’m watching out for something other than our government.” He placed the pillow down and reached for the covers. “And I like it. So humor me.”

  “I’ll right I’ll humor you.”

  “So, am I like your new purpose in life?” Cal asked jokingly.

  Jake leaned his body closer. “I didn’t look at it like that. Why? You want to be?” He returned to her covers.

  “What are you doing to my bed? I’m going to sleep. The bed doesn’t need made for that.” She took hold of his arm. “Jake, go get some sleep. I’ll be sure to let you know if they try anything else.” She placed her hand over her heart. “I promise.” She noticed Jake picking up her hand mirror from her bed. He stared at it with curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

  “This mirror has finger prints on it. They’re too big to be yours.”

  “Then they’re yours.” Cal took it from him. “Don’t worry about it.” She tried to lead him from the bed.

  “Why are you shoving me out, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are, to sleep. You’ll have me out of bed in a couple hours.”

  “You’re right. I need to sleep. I won’t be able to, but I’ll try.” Jake backed from the room and in a few short minutes returned, just as Cal was slipping into bed. He held his pillow and a blanket. “Is this a good spot?” He pointed to the floor.

  “Jake, get . . .” The flap of the bottom edge of his blanket smacked Cal as he flung it out so it would lie on the floor. “You can’t sleep there.” Cal jumped out of bed. “You’re only in the next room. We’ll leave both doors open. You can’t sleep on my floor.”

  “Why?” Jake pulled his knees up.

  “Because I said so,” Cal said.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s a good reason. You said so.” He snickered. “Tough.” Jake started to fluff his pillow annoyingly.

  “Jake.” Cal placed one hand on her hip and frustrated, ran the other across her face. “I don’t need you sleeping in here, especially when you are so neurotic about being neat. I’ll wake up at five in the morning and you’ll be rearranging all of my stuff.”

  “And you’ll mess it right back up like you did the other day when I straightened your desk on my way to walk with Rickie. I came back and you’d messed it up again.” He pointed his index finger at her and started to lie down.

  “I did no such thing. And maybe you think I did because you didn’t straighten it up as well as you think you did.”

  “Please, I know . . .” Jake stared up at her. He knew he pushed in her drawer. He knew what her room looked like when he had left it that day. Remembering that bad feeling he had when he walked in there, coupled with the large finger prints on her mirror, made Jake worry more. “I want you to check all of your stuff. I think someone’s been in this room,” he began to look around, “and because of that, I’ll be very comfortable right here. That is until I move my bed in here. And we move your dresser . . .”

  “No fuckin’ way. And no one has been in my room. If you’re looking for a reason to sleep in here, I’m not giving you one. Out!” She reached down and grabbed his hand. “Come on.” She pulled hard.

  Jake laughed at her, barely resisting, and he still didn’t move. “Cal . . . are you trying to move me?”

  “I’m serious.” She tugged harder.

  “So am I.” He pulled at her bringing her down some.

  “Jake.” Cal, propped up on her knees beside him, looked down. “I will let you know if I need you.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Jake adjusted himself up more, bringing his body closer to hers. “You are too strong willed. I think I know you . . . wait. That’s right, I don’t know you.”

  “You know me, Jake.” Cal started to get up. “It’s something else.”

  “What?”

  Cal sat down on her bed and looked at the smoke alarm. “I’ll tell you some other time, perhaps.” Her eyes shifted to the camera.

  Jake saw what she meant. “What about now?” He stood up and grabbed her hand. Making her follow him to the bathroom, Jake shut both doors and turned on the water in the shower. “Spill it.”

  “All right,” Cal said and bit her bottom lip. “Promise you won’t get mad at me. Promise me? I have a really good reason for keeping this quiet.”

  “If you say you have a good . . .” He watched Cal dart from the bathroom and stood there bewildered, hands in the air. “What the hell is she doing?” He waited, and in a few seconds Cal returned holding a photo album. “You’re hiding the fact that you brought pictures? So did I.”

  “No you, asshole.” She grabbed his hand pulling him down to the floor with her. Sitting close to him, legs touching, she opened the photo album across both their laps.

  “Ah.” Jake laughed. “Is this you?” He pointed to the first picture.

  Cal smacked his hand away. “I’m not here to show you my album.”

  “Will you show me another time then?”

  “Yes Jake. Will you show me yours?”

  Jake raised his eyebrow at her and he soon felt the cold smack of her hand on his leg. “You asked.” He watched her fiddle with the inside cover. “What are you doing?”

  “Pulling this out,” She said and slipped her fingers between the cover and the white sheet. Out of the pocket she pulled several sheets of paper. “Here.” She handed him the first one. “Read.”

  Jake unfolded the yellowing sheet of paper. “It’s a letter from the Caldwell institute.” He turned his head toward her. “Where did you get this? This is from an experiment over twenty years ago.”

  “I know. It was in my father’s stuff.” She took the letter back. “He was in The Iso-Stasis Experiment nine. He died during the experiment.”

  “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I know I didn’t.” She handed him another letter. “Here’s one from the institute saying that he had passed on tragically in the final three hours.”

  “Oh shit.” Jake skimmed the letter.

  “I was too young to remember all the details. But my stepfather remembered everything. Nine years ago he saw the ad in the paper and he showed me. I guess it was for the eleventh experiment.”

  “So your stepfather knew about the project
from the beginning?”

  “Yes. He said my father was chosen by the military just like you. Bill, my stepfather, and my dad were good friends. He said he begged my father not to go. He said that he knew something was up. This letter . . .” Cal pulled it out. “It’s from my father’s C.O. He states that he has found out from an undisclosed source that not a single person survived the experiment. Nor had they for the prior two. All eight go in. No one comes home. Now I can’t access any information on experiments ten, and eleven. My guess same scenario.”

  Jake looked shocked, his mouth hung open. “You knew all this coming in here and you still came?”

  “I knew all this before I applied.” Cal refolded her papers and stuck them back in her hiding place. “When my stepfather showed me the ad, there was nothing I could do. But I looked in the Times every single day from then on, waiting for another ad. In January, three weeks after Jessie’s death I saw their ad again. I figured, what the hell do I have to lose? So I applied. It was something I felt compelled to do.”

  “So that’s the reason behind you being here, that’s your motivation?” Jake took hold of the photo album. “You’re avenging your father’s death.”

  “No.” She took the album back. “Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m here to beat them. My father joined this project of his own free will, just like you and I and everyone else here. However . . .” she closed the book, “when my dad and everyone else joined they didn’t know the odds. I do. I have an advantage. No one is supposed to walk away here, Jake. The basis of their experiment isn’t to see who can walk away it’s to see how long you last. Guess what? I’m beating them at this. That’s why I’m here.”

  Jake swallowed. “You are one determined lady. You will walk away.”

  “No matter what they throw at me, I’ll walk away with you Jake.”

  Smiling he turned his head. “We may be the only ones.”

  “And you aren’t mad at me?” Cal asked, almost frightened to do so.

  “No, I understand. Do you think they know who your father is?”

  “Oh, most definitely and I think that has a lot to do with why I was chosen. But I bet they haven’t a clue that I know.”

  “I bet you’re right.” Jake stood up and shut the water off and the bathroom was eerily quiet. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Like I said I was going to, but I couldn’t.”

  “Now that we have that out of the way, how about we skip sleeping and just start our day?” Jake was very serious in his request.

  “How about we go to bed?” Tucking her photo album under her arm, Cal got up from the floor and walked to her room. She stopped cold, unexpectedly, and Jake nearly knocked her over. “Jake.” She turned to face him. “I’m really all right. You’re in the next room, Jake. You can’t get much closer than that. I promise I’ll yell if I need you.”

  “Can you promise me you’ll check your stuff first thing tomorrow to see if anything is gone?”

  “No, I won’t. Nothing’s gone. You’re gone, overboard. And are we going after Fr. Dan’s book?”

  “Yes, but in accordance with my agenda.” Jake folded his arms.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Cal marched into her room and picked up his belongings. “Everything is according to your agenda.” She shoved his stuff at him. “If we decide to have sex to occupy our time, will that be part of the agenda, too?” She turned and walked back in her room.

  Flustered, Jake babbled nonsense parts of words in his response to what she said. Before he could get something intelligent and or understandable out of his mouth, her light was out.

  Sand Dune Casino - Las Vegas, Nevada

  August 23 - 10:30 P.M.

  His figure could not be seen behind the tinted mirrored glass that was the entire far wall of his huge office. Aldo looked out at his crowded casino floor with pleasure, a drink in his hand.

  “Mr. Connilucci, sir?” A younger man knocked on the door of his office, “Telephone, line three, Stan from the institute.”

  “Thank you.” Aldo gave a nod as the man left his office. He walked with his drink and sat behind his desk. After a breath, he hit the speaker phone button. “Yeah, Stan . . .” Aldo rocked some in his thick leather chair. “What do you got for me?”

  “It’s over.” Stan’s voice came through the speaker. “Cal beat the mental phase. Graison took charge.”

  “Excellent.” Aldo clenched his jaws with a smile and nod. “What is his interest in my girl?”

  “He likes her. You know the routine. Experiment boy meets experiment girl. It’s a little bit more this time.”

  “What do you mean?” Aldo asked.

  “They’re close. Not bed partners, but . . . from observation, close friends. I think they may be a team here. And that could get in the way of a single winner.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I’ll take four million just as easy as I’ll take eight.” Aldo lifted his glass to his mouth.

  “Yeah, but uh . . . will Graison’s investor feel the same?”

  The glass stopped short of Aldo’s lips as he sank, instead of into bourbon, into thoughts about what Stan said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Observation Room - Caldwell Research Institute, Atlanta, GA

  August 25 - 7:15 P.M.

  As if they were watching the Super Bowl, Lyle and Stan held their breath, clenching tightly to papers, watching the monitors. When the moment arrived, they shrieked loudly.

  “Yes!” Lyle shouted first. “He’s there.”

  “Come on, Johnny boy . . . he’s going to chicken.”

  “No way. She asked him and he didn’t answer, just walked in.”

  “We are going to sail this one.” Stan held out his hand for a high five. “And everyone else said Cal and Jake first. Ha!”

  “Wait . . . no John, don’t back up.” Lyle covered his eyes. “He looked at her.”

  “Shut off the light, Jennifer, shut out the . . . yes!” Stan’s hand grabbed the remote. “Infrared on.”

  “It’s over.” Lyle began to laugh. “We won.” He pounded his fist on the table three times. “Wait . . . unless of course oral sex doesn’t count.”

  “Oh, please. We won.” Stan stood up and walked to the cork board and grabbed the envelope. “This was a big one, too. Including Aldo’s money, there’s five hundred bucks in here.” He smiled at his money.

  Dr. Jefferson walked into the room clearing his throat and startled both of them, making them jump. “Another pot meets its end?”

  Lyle quickly placed the money in his back pocket. “Uh . . . yeah, look at Monitor eight.”

  Dr. Jefferson looked up peering at the screen at the end of his nose. “I see.” He shook his head. “Before you took that money, did you make sure that oral copulation counted?”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Stan said and zoomed in on them. “It’s ours. I’ll just shut off the infrared to give them some privacy.”

  “You do that.” Dr. Jefferson sat down at the table with them. “I’m here right now to see if our controllers took care of both the situations?”

  “Yes,” Lyle answered. “Jake is suspicious and certain now that someone has been going in Cal’s room. And the other thing, the last one was switched this morning. I have to tell you. It was close. Jake was right there getting Fr. Dan’s book. Before his . . .” Lyle chuckled, “agenda. Anyway . . . Fr. Dan busted him again.”

  “I see.” Dr. Jefferson said. “And what did our Major Graison confess this time?”

  “Lustful thoughts,” Stan answered. “Fr. Dan scratched his head and finally told Jake to let loose, he was tired of hearing about it.”

  Smiling at that, Dr. Jefferson stood up. “I’ll leave you two to . . .” his head motioned to the monitors. “I was just checking to see if our controllers got them.”

  Lyle answered instead of Stan. “Yes, they switched the books just like you said.”

  Dr. Jefferson walked to the door. “Now when those two find the manuscripts they won’t know any more than th
ey do now. Imagine them thinking they can outsmart us. Do they not realize we know everything?” He opened the door and feeling upbeat Dr. Jefferson left the observation room.

  Lyle lifted his shoulders and slid in the chair. “I take it he doesn’t know that Cal and Jake were in the bathroom the other night having a secret meeting?”

  “No, and why tell him. We don’t know what they were saying and it’ll only make matters worse.”

  “How do we know they weren’t fooling around in there? Speaking of which, he’s gone. You want to put that infrared back on?”

  “You got it.” Stan sliding down in his chair, clicked on the infrared in Jennifer’s room, and sipped on his soda as he and Lyle watched the big entertainment for the evening.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I-S.E. Twelve - Seal River Complex, Manitoba, Canada

  September 3 - 7:35 A.M.

  Fr. Dan’s hands clenched tightly to the edges of the bathroom sink. He stared in the mirror, still fogged from his shower. With his right hand he wiped across the steam leaving a smear large enough for him to stare at his bloodshot, sore eyes. The dreams, every night for the past ten days he had the same dreams and woke with a headache that carried on until the afternoon.

  Fr. Dan looked down to his hands and saw they trembled. Stop this, just stop this. You are better than this, control yourself. They’re only dreams. A sickening knot formed in his stomach as he looked at his face, the scar on his left cheek, the scar that was his painful reminder.

  He noticed his brow had begun to sweat. That same dream was weakening him, and he couldn’t tell a soul about having them. No one could know. Splashing his face with cold water, he grabbed for a hand towel and brought it to his face.