by Sue Duff
“We feel violated,” Mara said.
“We don’t want to go in,” Tara added. “Something’s not right. Can’t you feel it?”
Ian’s senses explored their surroundings but only caught the chattering birds in the trees overhead. “No.”
“When could they have gotten our DNA?” Tara said.
“They gave all of us complete physicals when we first arrived in the States,” Ian said, remembering the exams. “I’m sure they took blood samples.” Since leaving Orr’s office, he wondered what other secret projects were on site. Who sanctioned, or ordered them? QualSton was Marcus’s territory. Were there other facilities like this throughout the world?
“My inner voice votes to bag this and leave,” Mara said.
Ian kept trying to sense something, anything out of the ordinary, but came up empty. It was unlikely the girls were going to relax. Indecisiveness, or worse, paranoia, would make him appear weak in the eyes of the Syndrion. “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he assured them. “Just wait out here until we’re done.”
“We can’t separate. You don’t know what you’re walking into,” Mara said.
“See what you can snoop out. If you find anything to back up your concerns, channel me. I’ll do the same.”
Ian left them and hurried to catch up to the other men.
Orr entered the security code on a pad next to the door. Patrick mouthed, “Are they all right?” Ian gave him a subtle shake of his head.
The light turned green, and Orr held the door open for them while stealing a glance at the girls. The scientist’s disappointment was palpable.
“I was given the impression that only humans can be Channels,” Ian said. “How did you discover an animal component?”
“Once I found the DNA marker that allows the women to channel, I synthesized it.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to combine human and animal DNA,” Patrick said. “No wonder I failed every science class I’ve ever taken.”
Orr regarded Patrick with impatience. “Perhaps it would be too confusing to explain it to you then.” He headed toward an inner door. “Interchanging human and animal tissue and organs is not unheard of. Consider pigskin grafts for burn victims. I merely expanded on some research from a colleague and took it to another level.”
Orr opened the inner door. Loud whining and odd barking greeted them. He hesitated. “I’m very anxious for the Channels to see these results. Perhaps I’ll go out and try to explain their part in this so they are less resistant.”
Ian put a hand on his arm. “For the time being they stay outside; it’s their choice. You have Patrick and me for your demonstration.”
Orr grew rigid at Ian’s touch. He opened the door wider without another word and ushered them inside.
A young woman in a white lab coat stood just inside the room. “Sire, this is Dr. Allison Shaunessy, my lab assistant,” Orr said.
She extended her hand. “Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you.” Unlike Orr, her solid eye contact and a firm handshake put Ian at ease. “I am honored that the Syndrion trusts me to be in their confidence. Your visit is quite exciting for us both.” Bits of her orange hair had come loose from her ponytail and a corkscrew strand dangled across her cheek. Allison squinted at Ian when she shook hands. Too vain to wear glasses in his presence, he thought. They were tucked in her lab coat pocket.
Patrick shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”
She smiled. “Oh, call me Allison, please.”
She led the group into the main hallway and continued to speak as though conducting a tour. “Our division’s research has led us to the DNA strands involving conscious thought. These centers tend to be buried deep within the sections of the brain that control communication and are linked to memory.” She headed down a hall toward a room about midway along the corridor and stopped. “Dr. Orr was able to link one of the markers to human channeling by examining your Channels’ DNA. We also found the link between Sar elders and successful Channels.”
“How long has this research been going on?” Ian asked.
“Since you arrived in the States, nearly ten years,” Orr said.
A gust of wind whistled through the air vents. He had more than a few questions for the Syndrion when they returned.
The moment Allison opened a door; a mixture of disinfect-ants, animal waste, and damp fur wafted out into the hall. A muted buzzz, like the sound of jacked-up fluorescent lights, settled at the back of Ian’s thoughts.
A line of cages stood in the center of the room. At the far end sat a work center complete with leashes, bowls, and sacks of unknown materials lined up underneath.
The animals whined and whimpered at their gates once the group entered the room.
Patrick stopped in the doorway. “Whoa, those are the biggest dogs I’ve ever seen.”
“They’re not dogs,” Ian said while taking in their features. “They’re North American wolves.”
“You would be correct,” Allison said.
The closest to Ian was solid black, with deep eyes that lent a sense of mystery to the animal. The one in the middle kennel was white but with subtle dapples of gray mixed deep into its coat. Its eyes were crystal blue. The last one on the end was gray with specks of black sprinkled throughout its fur. It had dark-brown irises.
Orr appeared uncomfortable in the wolves’ presence. On his way to the other end of the room, he skirted away from the kennels when the wolves pawed at the fence. He placed himself on the opposite side of Patrick and Allison as if using them like human shields.
His odd behavior tangled with Ian’s apprehension.
“Your Highness, Patrick, I’d like to introduce you to our latest test subjects,” Allison announced. “This is Sombra, Dante, and Amistoso.”
“They don’t look like Chihuahuas to me.” Patrick walked up and stuck his hand between the bars.
“Patrick, don’t.” Ian pulled his arm out.
“They’re utterly domesticated,” Allison said.
“Still,” Ian peered into Sombra’s eyes with an unease that he couldn’t explain. “Their lineage is not to be taken lightly. Am I right, Doctor?”
Orr regarded Sombra as he nodded.
“Each of our groups has a theme,” Allison continued. “Our first group had Old English names, the next generation had German ones, and now this generation has—”
“Latino,” came from the reserved Orr at the end of the room.
“I thought that Channels could only be female,” Ian said.
“Not so in my research,” Orr replied. “I’ve had the most success with male DNA.”
Sombra shied away at Ian’s approach. Connected to all things natural, Ian was surprised by the animal’s reaction.
“Their caretaker hasn’t reported to work yet, but I have their trainer, Drake, on standby if we need him,” Allison said.
“Can you sense anything, anything at all?” Orr asked. “Genetically, he’s one of our most promising subjects.”
Ian remained silent, trying to connect with this magnificent animal, clearing his mind to open a channel as he often did with the girls. Sombra stood and watched him with what Ian felt were intelligent eyes.
The buzz that greeted him at the door was distracting. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel a connection.”
Orr opened Sombra’s kennel. He led the animal out on a tether. He gestured for Ian. “Come closer.”
Ian went down on one knee in front of the wolf. Sombra studied him with penetrating eyes. He reached out with the back of his hand, and the animal allowed him to touch, but he felt nothing of a connection with the physical contact. The white-noise hummed at the back of his thoughts.
The door burst open. Two well-built men, one in dark-blue coveralls and the other in a QualSton security uniform, entered the lab. Walkie-talkies hung from their belts on one hip, and the security guard had a gun on the opposite. They ushered Mara and Tara inside.
“Drake,
what’s the meaning of this?” Orr said.
“Dr. Orr, these women were snooping around outside this building. They don’t have visitor stickers but claim they belong here.”
“We found these on them.” The security guard held up the girls’ handguns.
Ian cringed. The 24-hour guard on duty sign hadn’t been a typo after all. You should have channeled me, his thoughts reached out to the girls.
Mara and Tara shrieked and grabbed their heads. Ian and Patrick rushed over to them.
The girls fainted, falling into their arms.
{37}
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Patrick asked for the umpteenth time.
“We’re fine,” was the twin’s unified response.
Once they were removed from the kennel and taken outside, the girls quickly recovered. Orr wanted everyone to return to the kennels, but Allison intervened. Ian had had his fill of the mousy scientist. They ended up in Orr’s office. The girls sipped from their water glasses on the couch while Patrick hovered over them.
“You still look a little pale,” Patrick said to Tara.
“Let it go,” Mara snapped. She stuck her hand inside her empty holster. “I can’t believe they took my gun.”
“How did you get them through the metal detector?” Allison said. Mara didn’t respond. “Where’s Dr. Orr?” Ian asked.
“He stayed behind at the kennels. He intended to examine the wolves himself to see if anything was amiss,” Allison said. “He also contacted maintenance to check the building’s systems.”
“Why?” Patrick said.
“Because there was a deafening, shrill sound just before we passed out,” Tara said.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Patrick said.
Ian pulled Allison aside. “What did you tell security?”
“That the girls were unwell from their travels, and they’d chosen to stay outside while you and your manager checked the animals out,” Allison said. “I thought that would also explain their fainting.”
“And the guns?”
“That the women are your personal bodyguards as well as your assistants. You can collect the weapons at the receptionist’s desk when you leave.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow before the performance,” Ian said.
“Thank you. It would mean everything to Dr. Orr.” Allison sat down across from the girls. “Please, let me know if there’s anything you need. Your reactions to being in such close proximity to the animals have intrigued us.”
Allison escorted them to the main lobby.
Drake stood waiting behind the receptionist’s desk with the girl’s firearms. He silently led them out the front door then handed the weapons to Mara and Tara. “Keep them holstered and the safety on until you pass the entrance gates. Do not return with them tomorrow. Security will be more stringent.”
Ian felt watchful eyes on them as they headed across the lot. “Since when does an animal trainer double as security?”
“This place gives me the creeps,” Patrick said.
“Ian, you aren’t serious about returning,” Mara said as they neared their car.
“What makes you think we have a choice?” He stopped next to their SUV. “It’s obvious we’re being tested, Mara. We have to see this through.”
“Desperate men are capable of anything,” Patrick said, more to himself than the group.
“What do you mean?” Tara said.
“It’s something Galen said. I think he suspected that the Syndrion has a hidden agenda.”
“Why were Mara and I the only ones affected?”
“Perhaps they wanted to see how I would react without your support,” Ian said. “They could have found a way to subdue you. It’s not like you’re suffering from any residual effects.”
Patrick opened the driver’s side door and leaned on it. “Devil dogs, go figure. Whatever happened to Lassie?”
Ian peered over the car’s roof. Allison stood inside the glass-paneled door, watching them. Drake towered behind her. “Apparently they went the way of Frankenstein’s monster.”
{38}
Ian stared at the passenger’s side mirror. A white van with tinted windows had followed them since they’d left the facility. He made up his mind to tell Patrick to slow down when a grunt came from the driver.
“A coincidence? I think not,” Patrick said.
Several yards ahead, a dated Toyota Celica was parked on the road’s shoulder. Rayne crouched next to it with her hand on the back tire.
Patrick pulled their car around to face hers and shifted into park. The mysterious van sped up and continued on its way.
Rayne stood and brushed her hands on her pants, staring at them.
“Don’t waste this damsel-in-distress moment,” Patrick said. “If I were you, I’d collect.”
Mara grabbed Ian’s shoulder. “This could be a trap.”
“Consider me warned.” Ian got out and shut the door.
Rayne shook her head at his approach. “Figures.”
Ian took in the flat tire and his cocky attitude vanished. “Do you have a spare?”
“Of course.”
He headed toward the trunk.
Patrick rolled down the driver’s window. “Need a hand?”
Ian waved him off. “I’ve got it. Go on, I’ll ride back with her after I’m done here.”
“Remember what I said.” Patrick’s grin bordered on the sly.
Mara stuck her head out the backseat window. “Ian, be reasonable. Tara and I should stay.”
“A flat tire is hardly a test of my skills, Mara. Go, we’ll catch up soon enough.”
Mara tossed Rayne a dark look as the SUV pulled onto the road. Rayne pressed back against her car.
“She’ll grow on you,” Ian said.
“Yeah, like a rash.” Rayne reached in her open driver’s window and popped the trunk. Ian pulled the tire out and handed the tools to her. “What did Patrick mean?” she said.
“As payment for my help, I should cash in my rain check.” He rolled the tire toward the flat. “You ready to pay up?”
“Have dinner with all of you?” She gazed down the road at the shrinking back of their SUV.
“Don’t worry, Mara’s table manners are a tad better than her social graces.” Ian bent down and checked under the car, then set the jack. He ratcheted it up.
Silence hovered while he worked. He assumed that she had picked up a nail, but the puncture was too high along its side and at least an inch wide.
She crouched next to him. “Thanks for this.”
Ian gave her a sideways glance then continued what he was doing. “Wow, that must have been painful,” he said.
“You have no idea.” Her chuckle melted the tension.
“Why were you out this way?” he said.
“I was headed to QualSton.”
“Why?” Ian stopped tightening a bolt. He had missed the obvious. This stretch of road only led in and out of the facility.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m looking for someone. I got a lead they might have worked there.”
“I thought you were here for the town’s centennial celebration.”
Rayne hesitated. “I’m looking for my father.” She picked up a twig next to her knee and twisted it between her fingers. “For most of my life, I thought he was dead. But I found out a couple days ago that wasn’t true.”
“There’s heavy security at the entrance. Without an appointment, you’d never get past the front gate.” He picked up the tools and the flat and headed back to the trunk. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have an appointment?” He slammed it shut. She shook her head. “Then you better come back with us tomorrow.” He wiped his hands on a beach towel from her trunk.
She threw him a skeptical glance. “You’d help me?”
“Depends on how much you drown me in questions from this point on.” He walked around the car and opened the passenger door.
�
�Will you at least answer some?” she said.
“You already had your chance.”
“We never finished the interview.”
“That’s because it didn’t feel like an interview.” He threw her a knowing look and got in and shut the door.
“What if I promise to be good?” Rayne belted in then started the car.
Ian stared out the side window without responding. The window’s glare reflected his smirk.
{39}
“You’ve done your homework,” Ian said, uneasy at how much Rayne knew about his contrived background.
“What was it like growing up in Europe?”
“Lonely,” he said.
“Then why didn’t you go to school when you came to the States?”
“My uncle is eccentric. He had other plans for me.”
“I can’t imagine growing up out there in the middle of nowhere and being homeschooled your entire life,” she said. “As lame as it can be, at least school offers distractions.”
“Such as?”
“Teachers with one foot in the insanity pool, science labs straight out of a B horror movie, and group dynamics that take a degree in sociology to figure out. If phys ed was optional, it’d be downright tolerable.
Ian found himself hanging on her every word, reminded how naïve he was compared to others his age. If he were honest with himself, linguistic colloquialisms weren’t his only weakness. “What’s wrong with phys ed?”
She checked the rearview mirror. “It requires skills I lack in the DNA department. But after-hours has its upside. I get off on the football and basketball games and lose myself in cheering the teams on. Screaming is better than therapy any day.”
“Patrick’s told me stories of being tormented by the athletes.”
“Even heroes have their dark side. Jocks give narcissism its own definition. We could all do without them terrorizing the minions in the hallways. Passing periods were downright scary in high school.”
“You talk like you were one of the targets.”
“I was one of the invisible. My mom and I moved a lot. I stopped trying to make friends a long time ago. Nothing ever lasted.” Her tone softened and her shoulders sagged as she readjusted more than her posture. “She didn’t like for me to join clubs or sports. I used to think she was controlling and resented it.”
