Concisus

by Tracy Rozzlynn

  “So Jennifer’s dead?”

  I nod.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Andi warns me. “I know that look. Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. She wasn’t in her right mind. She was crazy with rage.”

  I shudder at the memory.

  “No one could have expected her to react the way she did.” Andi squeezes my hand. Leave it to Andi to comfort me when she’s the one in the hospital bed. “How long have I been out and have you even slept yet?”

  Dr. Wickerham interrupts. “It’s been two days. I have no idea if your friend has slept, but I’d like to know just how she got in, seeing you haven’t been allowed visitors yet.”

  “I’m sorry. I just had to see her,” I plead.

  “Well, you have. Now I suggest you go find all your friends, share the news with them and get some sleep. Andi needs her rest to heal, so there will be no further visits until I say so.”

  Andi squeezes my hand again. “Go ahead,” she says. “The best thing you can do for me is take care of yourself and Jeremy.”

  “Okay,” I whimper before Dr. Wickerham leads me out the door.

  When I reach the lobby, I see that all our friends are there, huddled together in a silent vigil, bound by their grief.

  My face crumples, and I sob so hard that I can’t talk.

  “No!” Jeremy gasps, mistaking my tears for despair.

  His eyes close tight, and he shakes his head in denial. I try to explain that Andi’s all right, but my throat is too thick with emotion. I hold his face in my hands and wait for him to open his eyes. When he does, I plaster a smile across my face.

  His eyes search my face. “She’s okay?” he asks hopefully.

  Once more, Dr. Wickerham enters the room. “She’s awake. Your friend here snuck into see her, but I explained that Andi needs her rest. No more visits until I say so. And if I catch anyone else trying to sneak in, that person will be banned from the hospital indefinitely.”

  Ryan hugs me tight, and Molly holds Jeremy. Together we return to the field lab where everyone else is gathered, waiting for visiting hours and news on Andi. Molly makes Jeremy and me eat, and then Ryan leads me to my pod. Ryan climbs in next to me, and I fall asleep crying into his chest. He knows my tears are for Andi but doesn’t know I think she’s paralyzed.

  My dreams torment me. I keep reliving Andi disappearing over the cliff and hearing Jeremy yell, “Andi, no.” At first, I know the pain-filled yell is concern for Andi. But as the scene replays itself, the phrase takes on a new meaning. Jeremy isn’t yelling “no” about Andi—he’s yelling “no” at me. In my dream, I wake up on the small ledge where Andi landed. Ryan rappels down instead of Jake. I’m relieved to see him, but his face fills with disgust when he looks down at me. “You’re not Andi,” he growls before he climbs back up and leaves me behind.

  “Ryan, come back,” I call after him.

  He looks over the cliff edge and calls me a murderer. Then he disappears.

  My eyes fly open. I look around and see that I’m alone. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but I fear it may have been too long.

  Molly assures me that Andi is fine and refuses to let me leave the lab before I shower and eat something. I barely dip myself in the water, quickly dress, and force down some food without noticing what it is, then dash to the hospital to wait to see Andi.

  Dr. Wickerham is stringent when it comes to visitors, and I’m lucky if I get five minutes a day with Andi and most of the time she’s asleep. She’s getting stronger but she’s still not moving her legs. Dr. Wickerham keeps insisting that it’s a side effect of Andi’s pain medication, but Andi has her doubts.

  Jennifer’s funeral is held in the early morning hours, while frost still clings to the grass and leaves. Hardly anyone attends, and those that do wear conflicting emotions on their faces. The circumstances surrounding her death make it impossible to properly mourn her. Even knowing the cause isn’t enough for me to fully forgive her. Maybe one day, if and when Andi fully recovers, I’ll be able to. But not now.

  On the way back from the funeral, a large beetle zips by Molly and she loses the strong composure she’s displayed for us throughout the week. Even though it’s well out of her reach, she runs after it, wildly swinging and incoherently hollering at it. I’m surprised to see any kind of bug. Besides the cold temperature, the fence should deflect any kind of insect from entering. Andi told me all about it. Maintenance runs a special charge through the fence which can’t hurt people, even if someone holds onto the fence. The worst we’d suffer is our hair standing on end. Once Molly’s exhausted herself, we lean against each other and walk back to the field hospital.

  Andi is exuberant when I visit her, but I find her mood unsettling. I’m not sure why until she bubbles, “I finally got Dr. Wickerham to talk to me about my back injury. It turns out there’s a good chance I’m paralyzed.”

  “Andi, I’m—”

  “Don’t worry.” She quickly cuts me off. “She’s wrong. It might be a while until I can tear up a dance floor, but I’ll get there.” I’m glad she has a positive attitude, but the manic tone of her voice scares me.

  “Whatever you need, just let me know. I’m here for you,” I somberly offer.

  She playfully responds. “The only thing I need is for you to stop acting so gloomy.” Andi’s going to grieve whatever way she needs, and maybe her over joyous attitude will help speed her recovery, but I’m still worried.

  Ryan, Jake, and Molly return to the field lab to distract themselves with work, but I’m too anxious to focus on anything. I decide to take a walk on the base. I find myself retracing the path Dean and I took the night we left the warehouse. Since my meeting with the chairman, I’ve walked the path so many times that I’ve lost count, but still haven’t found a hidden camera or even a spot where a camera could be concealed. I know my foggy memory has me in the wrong spot, but then another beetle zooms by me. Something about how it flies seems unusual, so I follow. I watch it hover in the air above a couple of girls as if it’s watching them. When they disappear into a recreation hall, the beetle flies in widening circles until it finds another couple to follow. I spend the morning shadowing the bug as it tracks everyone. Eventually it lands on the roof of a warehouse. I find and open door and climb the stairs to the rooftop. The beetle’s still idly resting among an assortment of birds, bats, butterflies and other insects. Guessing what they are, I grab the closet one. I carefully keep the eyes facing away from me and confirm that the bird in my hand is a camouflaged camera. The chairman is spying on all of us. He’s been the one controlling the pods and playing games with their programming. He’s to blame for Andi’s injuries and Jennifer’s death.

  I storm back to the hospital, pass the waiting room and Andi’s room, and keep going until I reach Dr. Wickerham’s office. I push through the office door without knocking. The room is not ornately decorated but is simple and neat, much like Dr. Brant keeps her office. I can’t speak for everyone who’s in charge, but of the three, the chairman is the only one enjoying the spoils of his power.

  Dr. Wickerham’s not in her office, so I explore while I wait. Three huge bookshelves line the wall behind her desk. Each one is heavily laden with medical books and digests. I wonder if the information isn’t available in the regular database or if she’s just a diehard fan of the printed word. Judging by the filing cabinets that line the left wall, I guess my latter theory is correct. A door is the only adornment on the right side if the room. I peer inside and discover she has her own modestly decorated bathroom.

  All her office walls lack pictures or decorations of any kind. The only photograph is a tiny, framed wallet-sized image in which Dr. Wickerham looks over the shoulder of a young boy with a gap-toothed smile. The resemblance between the two is uncanny and an eerie chill runs up my spine as I guess what tragedy brought Dr. Wickerham to Verita. I carefully replace the photo.

  When I look up, I see Dr. Wickerham in the doorway, but she doesn’t look mad, just very, very
sad.

  “He would have been twelve next month.” She walks over, gently picks up the framed photo, and places it in a desk drawer. She gestures to my somber face. “That kind of expression is much too old for someone so young.”

  “It’s been a long time since I felt young. Right now, I feel weary, angry, and disillusioned.” I stop talking and press a finger to my lips. I didn’t think my plan through very well. I don’t see any bugs flying around or trying to hide, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other cameras hidden around us. The chairman probably has cameras in the dorms to watch and listen to us while we dress, but unless he’s really perverted, there’s one thing that even he’d rather not see. I duck into Dr. Wickerham’s bathroom and thoroughly inspect it for anything out of the ordinary. Dr. Wickerham follows me in, looking curious. I close the door behind her.

  Before I can change my mind, I blurt, “I overheard you and the chairman and I know about the pods.” She tenses, and I fear I’ve chosen the wrong person.

  “He’s turning the programming off,” she answers, breaking the strained silence.

  “It’s a little too late for Jennifer,” I say coldly.

  Dr. Wickerham walks back into her office and sinks down into her seat. “I’m truly sorry for that. I should have done something sooner.”

  Remorse is a start but not nearly enough. “I’m not here for an apology. I want a guarantee.”

  “A guarantee?” Dr. Wickerham sounds confused.

  “Yes. From the sound of it, the chairman is the only person with the ability to control the programming. How do I really know he’s going to turn the programming off and keep it off?”

  Dr. Wickerham pales, frightened. “Promise me you won’t challenge the chairman. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  My eyes narrow. “I have a pretty good idea what he’s capable of. That’s why I’ve come to you for help.”

  Dr. Wickerham bites her lip. “He’s not the only one with access to the programming. One other field manager and I have access, but I don’t know who the other person is. It’s a failsafe in case one of us tries to take advantage of the pods.”

  I laugh at the irony. “Well, it looks like your failsafe failed. You need to report this to the rest of the field managers.”

  Dr. Wickerham vehemently shakes her head. “None of the other field managers know about the pods. They can never know about the pods, they’re too much of a temptation. But he knows I’ll be monitoring the programming, and he won’t try anything like this again.”

  I don’t much like her assurance, but I have to settle for it for now. I’ll monitor the situation myself and if the chairman doesn’t turn off the pods, I’ll know. Then, even if I have to approach every field manager individually, I’ll blow the whistle on the chairman.

  Chapter 23

  The chairman keeps his promise. Over the next few weeks couples across the base begin to bicker and fight. Soon, hardly a meal goes by without at least one face slap and dramatic exit. Most people on the base seem miserable. I feel bad for them, but I know it’s only temporary and they’ll be better off in the long run.

  I just wish I could say the same for Andi. Her bruises fade and her bones heal but there’s still no movement in her legs, not even a toe wiggle. Andi’s over the top optimism fades, but she tries to remain in good spirits. She asks the doctors what kind of physical therapy she’ll be able to do and focuses on the different inventions that could help her and anyone else unfortunate enough to wind up in similar circumstances.

  I really start to worry when Andi starts saying things like, “I should have been more considerate of Jennifer’s feelings,” and “If I’d never kissed Jeremy, none of this would have happened.” Telling Andi it’s not her fault and there’s no way she could have predicted Jennifer reaction, just angers her.

  My days are split between my research and visiting Andi. I’m encouraged by my initial results with the honey. The honey is edible and boosts the immune system. I’m hopeful it will also aid in nerve recovery and I now have a subject to test it on. Ryan found an earth rat with an injured spine. Another scientist was using it as part of a control group, but when it bit him, he dropped it and injured it.

  After breakfast, I head over to visit Andi. Jeremy’s already there, and the two of them are chatting and laughing up a storm. Watching the two of them together makes me smile. I have a feeling Jeremy will remain with her even if she never walks again. Andi’s face drops when I enter the room. She shoots me an icy cold stare. “What are you doing here?”

  Jeremy turns around, his forehead scrunched up. “It’s just Brett.”

  “Don’t patronize me Jeremy. It’s my legs that don’t work, not my brain. I know who she is. She’s the one stupid enough to forget about your girlfriend. Her oversight killed Jennifer and landed me here.” Andi snatches a plate off of the food tray next to her bed and flings it at me. “How dare you even sow your face here? I want nothing to do with you!”

  “You don’t mean that,” Jeremy says as he laces his hand in Andi’s.

  She tries to pull free. “Yes I do!” Her head thrashes back and forth as she attempts to break Jeremy’s firm grasp.

  “Don’t worry I’m leaving.” I say before Andi hurts herself.

  Just outside Andi’s room, I lean against the wall and listen as Jeremy does his best to calm her down. I know Andi’s reaction is a manifestation of her grief, but I can’t help but feel that there’s some truth behind her words. When I’m certain Andi’s calm, I begin to walk the hospital corridors. As of last night the injured rat was still dragging its limp hindquarters around. I can’t bring myself to return to the field lab and confirm his condition is unchanged.

  “Brett, I’m sorry about Andi and everything else that happened.”

  I look up to see Chad standing in front of me. Talk about bad timing. “Unless you know something that can help Andi, I have nothing to say to you.” I snap.

  Chad visibly cringes, but then says, “I might be able to help.”

  “How?” I narrow my eyes and wait for some inadequate offer of comfort. I still haven’t forgiven him and it would feel so good to chew someone out right now.

  “You’re quarantine test showed both you and Ryan had the neurological activity of a three-year-old.”

  “How does insulting me help Andi?” I growl.

  “Sorry. I assumed as a botanist you understood human brain development.” The words sound condescending, but his tone is apologetic.

  I’m not in the mood to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but I’m curious enough to refrain from screaming at him. “No. It wasn’t included in my cryogenic knowledge and it still sounds like your insulting me.

  “I’m not. A three-year-old’s brain is twice as active as an adult’s brain. Synaptic pruning thins out the weaker and unused connections as we age.”

  “Can’t the brain form new connections?” I ask, suddenly hopeful he has an idea that can help cure Andi.

  Chad shakes his head. “No. Not like what was in your test results. I think whatever brightened your coloring affected your neurological capabilities. It’s a long shot, but it could help Andi. That’s assuming we can figure out what caused it.”

  Bile hits the back of my throat. Is he seriously using Andi to get to the opal berries? No, the chairman, his pods, and his bugs have me paranoid. Chad wouldn’t do that. Then again, I never thought he’d testify that I was a nut job either.

  I take a deep breath and attempt to separate my thoughts from my emotions. “Can I see the test results? They might help me figure out what caused the reaction.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I only saw them by chance during your quarantine. Kevin doesn’t like to share. He keeps all the results password protected on his computer.”

  I guess I’m not the only paranoid one. “Just let me know if and when you get them.”

  “Brett, I really am sorry about everything,” Chad calls after me as I hurry to the filed lab.

  I d
on’t need the test result to know the opal berries caused the strange changes in Ryan and me. Ryan agrees with me, but he wants to wait until spring to look for the berries. He’s convinced it’s too late in the season to find any and doesn’t want to risk us getting in trouble over a wild goose chase. He probably right, but eventually I wear down his resolve and he agrees to a one day field visit to look for the berries.

  It’s ridiculously easy to fool the ID scanners. Just like with the zoo escape, we use a small rock to keep the exit doors from closing all the way. We scan ourselves back into the field lab and the base, and then re-exit without having to scan our palms. If anyone checks the scanning records, it will look like we spent the day on the base.

  We know the closet berries to the south are three days away, so when we reach the river we head north, into unexplored terrain. We’re far away from the base when we find a side stream. I see specks of marble white rock in the stream bed and break into a run. I’m convinced we’ve found the berries; I’ve never seen the marble without the berries. The moment I enter the clearing I know I’m right, but my heart sinks. The stems and leaves of the plant are as green as they were mid-summer, but brown shriveled flesh hangs where the berries should be. It’s too late in the season, the early morning frosts have destroyed what remained of the berries.

  “We knew it was a long shot, but we’ll still be able to gather the berries in the spring.” Ryan says, attempting to comfort me.

  “That’s only if they ripen in the spring. Who knows what kind of effect they’ll have unripened. For all we know they’re poisonous unripened.” I complain.

  “Then we’ll wait until they ripen.” Ryan answers.

  I know Ryan’s right, but his logical answers don’t make me feel any better. The berries might not fully ripen until the summer. I can’t leave Andi stuck in a wheelchair that long with no hope of recovering, but I can’t tell her about the berries either. If I tell her about the berries and they don’t work, it would crush her. I head back in to the base resolved to keep quiet about the berries and allow Andi to be as mad as she wants at me – if that’s what she needs to deal with her grief, I’ll endure it.