by E S Richards
“Honestly Zahyra, they will help us get the results we need for the cure sooner. That’s what you want isn’t it? To help save your brother?”
A twinge of hatred ran through Zahyra’s body as the professor mentioned her brother. How dare she use him against her to get what she wanted. It wasn’t true anyway; Zahyra already knew their talk of a cure had to be fabricated in order to get her to comply. But at the end of the day, she had very little choice in the matter.
Reluctantly she took the capsules from the professor and threw them down the back of her throat. Damon appeared in that moment, a mug of water in his hands, which he handed to Zahyra. She shot him a glare but drank the water anyway, forcing the round capsules into her stomach.
“Wonderful,” Professor Welbeck smiled and moved back towards a screen, typing something into the keypad attached to it. After a moment the picture of a human body appeared on the screen, each internal organ visible. Even the blood running through the veins could be identified. Zahyra gasped and moved closer.
“Is that me?”
Professor Welbeck nodded and began pointing to different parts of Zahyra’s body on the screen, explaining what was going on in each area. Zahyra listened intently; fascinated by the technology and the fact that she could see the inside of her own body. After a while the professor coughed, clearly growing tired of explaining to Zahyra what she regarded as simple things and began setting up the first trial of the day.
Zahyra began to worry as it was explained to her. Apparently all she had to do was stand in an enclosed room and Professor Welbeck would monitor how her body reacted to the changing environment around her. The first test would be an increase of temperature.
Zahyra was given a red paddle to hold and was instructed to raise it when the heat in the room got too much for her, as Professor Welbeck wouldn’t be able to hear any complaints. It all sounded very uncomfortable and when she was led into the area where the test would take place her uncomfort level only grew.
The room was not what Zahyra qualified as a room at all. It was more of a small tent within a room, the walls made out of a clear, rubbery substance. Plastic, Professor Welbeck told her. The area inside was no bigger than the table in Zahyra’s room and the roof hung just a few inches above her head. Instantly Zahyra felt trapped and claustrophobic, her mind going back to the ventilation shaft from the night before. At least she could see, she reminded herself and tried to remain calm for the trial ahead. Professor Welbeck nodded to her from outside the plastic tent and a whirring noise began to sound. Then, slowly but surely, the temperature began to increase.
At first Zahyra felt fine. The air around her started to feel a little sticky and wet, but it was nothing compared to the heat she had endured in the desert wastelands before the facility. Then sweat started to form on her brow and on the back of her neck, her hair feeling heavier on her head as it absorbed the moisture in the air.
Three minutes passed and Zahyra watched Professor Welbeck and Damon on the other side of the small tent. Damon was watching her and she tried to avoid eye contact with him. The professor was monitoring the screen, moving the image around different parts of Zahyra’s body.
Another minute passed and sweat now covered every inch of Zahyra’s body. As she breathed the air felt hot against her throat and she coughed slightly, struggling to catch her breath. All the saliva in her mouth had gone making it difficult to swallow. She looked at her timekeep again and saw her fingers had started to swell with the heat, making them look unattractive and puffy.
Next her whole body began to feel heavy and she groaned under the effort of standing upright. Her knees gave way slightly and she started to sag, continuously struggling to breathe. Sweat was dripping into her eyes now and her clothes hung off her like she’d been caught in a downpour. Zahyra’s fingers itched on the red paddle she held in her hand, her mind screaming at her to use it as her vision began to blur.
Zahyra snapped her eyes shut in response, determined to withstand the heat for a minute longer. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to prove, but after her moment of weakness in front of the professor when she found out about her mother earlier something inside of her wanted to appear strong.
A wave of dizziness suddenly overcame her and Zahyra slammed her right foot down behind her, trying to regain her balance. She opened her eyes slowly and the air around her seemed to shimmer in front of her. Her dry lips smacked together in an attempt to create moisture from somewhere. Nothing happened. Then as another wave of dizziness found her Zahyra’s eyes drooped closed and she reluctantly raised the paddle.
Seconds later the door to the tent opened and a gust of cold air swept in, almost knocking Zahyra off balance. Damon stepped into the tent towards her and put an arm around her waist. Zahyra recoiled instinctively but all her energy was gone. She felt him lift her arm and place it around his shoulder and then everything went black.
When Zahyra regained consciousness she was sat in a chair in the glass room. Damon was crouched beside her, a bottle of water in his hands. She reached out and accepted it, relishing the cool liquid as it poured down her throat and relieved her of the dryness that had overcome her entire body. Her eyes still felt heavy and she struggled to focus her vision, the room looking blurry around her. Damon took the water bottle back from her and left her side, his figure moving off into her peripheral vision. A moment later Professor Welbeck occupied his vacant space.
“Very good.”
“What,” Zahyra spoke breathily, “was that for?”
“I was monitoring how your body copes under extreme pressure. In this case the pressure was heat, obviously. If we can work out which areas of your body are most responsive to certain stimuli then we can reverse the effects to help generate a cure.”
Zahyra nodded groggily, her mind still unable to process the explanation she had been given. She didn’t understand how monitoring her response to heat would help produce a cure for mutations, but her mind wasn’t clear enough to ask any more questions about it. Looking down to her hands Zahyra was pleased to see her fingers returning to their original size. Gradually her thoughts became less fuzzy and jumbled together and she was able to focus on the room around her.
“Twelve minutes,” Professor Welbeck said beside her and Zahyra realised she had not finished speaking. “You did much better than I had expected.”
Zahyra smacked her lips together in response, the dryness of them still persisting to some extent. Water was offered to her again and then Professor Welbeck moved back towards the screen, leaving Zahyra to compose herself.
By the time Heather collected her for lunch Zahyra had been in the heat tent three times. Her body was spent of energy and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Professor Welbeck had suggested she stop after the second trial but Zahyra had been determined to continue, simply trying to prove to herself and the professor that she was not weak.
The stairs up to the main atrium seemed to extend forever. Zahyra kept her eyes focused on Heather’s boots in front of her and somehow managed to make it to the top. As she sat down with her bowl of bread and stew all she wanted to do was crawl into bed. Instead she zoned out the voices around her for once and gnawed on the soft bread in front of her. She avoided the stew, the liquid being too hot for her body to endure at that moment.
She was half way through the meal when an alarm suddenly sounded throughout the facility, causing the men and women around her to leap to their feet and into action. Heather glanced from Zahyra to the exit of the mess hall and back again, indecisiveness visible in her eyes. Zahyra looked up at her wearily, barely managing to lift her head.
“Stay here,” Heather shouted at her over the alarm and then ran out, following the stream of people into the main atrium.
Zahyra stared around the now almost empty mess hall in disbelief, the alarm cutting through her head and clearing out some of the fogginess inside. In an instant the opportunity dawned on her and she pushed her plate of food away across the table. Ev
eryone had gone. That meant the lab downstairs would likely be empty as well. This was her chance.
As urgently as her body could manage after the morning Zahyra ran out of the mess hall, her pace slowing just before she reached the main atrium. Most of the people from the mess hall had headed in this direction, but the circular room was now almost empty as well. A group of four men with red armbands – soldiers – were huddled together by one corridor. It was opposite the one Zahyra wanted to take so she steeled herself and strolled purposefully out into the atrium.
One of the men turned his head to look at her as she crossed the atrium but he said nothing and Zahyra swiftly turned the corner to the staircase. As soon as she was clear of the atrium she took the stairs two at a time, only steadying herself on the banister a few times to stop from losing her balance. As she reached the entrance to the lab she again slowed, unsure of what she would find inside. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door.
The lab was deserted, much like the rest of the facility and Zahyra paused for a second, wondering what the alarm could possibly mean. It was still ringing loudly through each room but thankfully it was helping to focus Zahyra’s mind. Creating a sharp contrast between the fogginess the heat had caused.
Her eyes scanned the glass-walled room quickly and then fell on the screen Professor Welbeck had been using earlier. The image of her body was still illuminated on it, which meant the professor had failed to log out before she vacated the lab. Zahyra cheered internally and jogged over to the screen, pulling a chair along with her.
She closed the picture of her body and scanned the screen again for the file she’d found last night. ‘New-Wave’. There it was, in the same corner as before. Her heart racing Zahyra clicked on the file and waited as the equations and formulas filled the top half of the screen once more. She moved the file down slowly, her eyes growing wide as the areas that had been blacked out the night before appeared in her vision. Immediately Zahyra began reading.
Her mouth fell open as she absorbed the information on the file. Reams of data – thankfully with explanations – covered the screen. The information seemed to date back several years, with new findings added at sporadic intervals. The safe haven definitely knew more about Gen 6 mutants than Heather had let on; their knowledge on the matter was actually obscene. Then one line of text towards the bottom of the file caught Zahyra’s eye.
New subject. Age 10. Stage 1.
It was followed by more equations and formulas but Zahyra stared at the six words of text. It had to refer to her brother. Asher had to be inside the facility somewhere. She had to find him.
A hand then suddenly fell firmly on her shoulder, spinning Zahyra’s chair around and away from the screen. Heather’s face filled her field of vision, Professor Welbeck standing just behind her.
The look in Heather’s eyes would normally have terrified Zahyra: a death stare she was sure was reserved for only the most treacherous of enemies. Zahyra returned the look, refusing to back down. Then with as much venom as she could muster Zahyra rose to her feet so her face was just inches away from Heather.
“Where is my brother?”
Chapter 7
Heather’s gaze held Zahyra’s, her death stare unwavering. Zahyra realised only then that the alarm had stopped. She had no idea how long ago, the information in the lab being too captivating for her. As Heather remained motionless in front of her Zahyra wondered what was going to happen next. She was already kept in the facility like a prisoner and this blatant disregard for the rules would not do her many favours.
Heather turned in that moment, spinning around to look at Professor Welbeck who remained behind her. The two exchanged a nod of the head and then Heather began walking out of the experimentation lab.
“Please follow Heather,” the professor said quietly, “we’ll continue T128 another day.”
Zahyra swallowed, unnerved by Heather’s continued silence. She had at least expected her to yell at her, tell her off in some way. The silence was undoubtedly worse. Zahyra shot a look to the professor as she walked past, one that she hoped portrayed innocence and then jogged out of the lab to catch up with Heather. The woman was already climbing the stairs to the main atrium and Zahyra solemnly fell into step behind her.
They moved through the atrium in silence. Zahyra expected them to turn down the corridor leading to her room but Heather walked by without a passing glance. Instead they moved along a corridor Zahyra didn’t recognise. The doors either side were all closed, with nothing to distinguish between them. Heather stopped outside one towards the end of the corridor and opened it, leading Zahyra inside.
The room looked strangely familiar to Zahyra as Heather indicated for her to take a seat on one side of the large wooden desk. Heather occupied the chair behind it, and Zahyra realised the room was almost the same as the office she had seen the General in the night before. By logical assumption, this had to be Heather’s office.
The walls seemed to be made from wood, which Zahyra found odd inside a mountain. The carvings on them reminded her of the inner rings you found in trees when they were chopped down, the colour a rich oak. The other furniture in the office was basic. A tall bookshelf occupied one wall, looking to be filled with old texts and manuals. Then, aside from the desk and two chairs there was just an old locker in the room. It was the same as the one in Zahyra’s own bedroom, but something about it told Zahyra it wasn’t where Heather kept a spare change of clothes.
The older woman was still yet to say anything, causing Zahyra to fidget slightly in her seat. She felt like a small child again, about to be scolded for disobeying the rules. Eventually Heather looked up and began addressing Zahyra.
“What were you doing downstairs, Zahyra? I explicitly told you to remain in the mess hall. That alarm sounds for the safety of everyone in this facility. It is not a cue for you to go running around like you wish.”
Zahyra avoided eye contact with Heather; unsure of what explanation she could give. She didn’t want to reveal her suspicions about the safe haven, but having already mentioned that she knew about her brother she realised she had given too much away.
“I saw a file yesterday on Professor Welbeck’s screen that mentioned the New-Wave of mutants, just like how you referred to my brother.” She had decided to play dumb, hoping that Heather wouldn’t give her as much credit as she deserved. “I just wanted to see if I could find out more about it. About him.”
“In the middle of an alarm?” Heather raised her eyebrows at Zahyra suspiciously; she clearly wasn’t buying her story yet.
“I’d asked Professor Welbeck about it earlier this morning,” she lied, hoping Heather wouldn’t turn to the professor to corroborate her story. “She wouldn’t tell me anything, so when the alarm sounded I just saw an opportunity and…”
“And what did you find?”
“Nothing,” Zahyra lied again. “Well, I found a file, but I didn’t understand any of it. But, is he here? Please, will you just tell me what’s happened to him? It’s killing me thinking of him outside on his own.”
She hoped the hint of desperation in her voice would fool Heather. Mislead her into thinking she was just clutching at straws instead of having any solid proof. But she did have proof. She knew Asher was inside the facility. She could feel it. She just couldn’t let on the extent of what she’d discovered.
“Your brother was deemed unsuitable for housing. He was removed from the facility.”
Liar. Zahyra thought, but wisely kept her mouth shut as Heather continued.
“Your little adventure today has done nothing but hinder what we are trying to achieve here. You will miss this afternoon of the T128 trials, slowing down the process remarkably. The file you found was simply a foundation of information on what we know about this New-Wave of mutants. T128 could help to cure them, but you seem to be changing your mind about wanting to go ahead with it. Have you changed your mind about wanting to cure your brother? And your other companion too?”
Zahyra felt her eyes droop to the ground. She knew Heather was using her brother and Cain to bait her, just like Professor Welbeck had done earlier. She had to act like she was still ignorant about the real goings on of the safe haven. Like she didn’t know the truth about them weaponizing T128 in some way, and the truth about wherever they were hiding Asher. She raised her head slowly, forcing a mask of apology onto her face.
“I’m sorry.”
Heather looked at her warily across the table, waiting for Zahyra to continue.
“Of course I want to help find a cure. I think… I guess I was just feeling desperate. Professor Welbeck told me this morning that my mother didn’t manage to make it to the safe haven.” Zahyra hoped this snippet of truth would help solidify her story. “I just wanted to be with my family in some way, to at least know that Asher was safe.”
Heather’s face softened slightly when Zahyra mentioned her mother and she managed to stifle a smile inside of her. Somehow this was working.
“Ah yes,” Heather began, “I was informed about your mother, and I am sorry about that. Luckily for your brother when we are forced to remove someone from the safe haven we provide them with basic survival tools so they can cope in the outside world. Nothing they could utilise as a weapon, but basic rations of food and water. Direction to a nearby shelter. I can assure you your brother will be fine.”
More lies, Zahyra thought, but rejuvenated the mask on her face to appear thankful.
“Oh,” she muttered quietly, “I didn’t realise. Thank you.”
“The matter that I regard to be of a more serious nature however,” Heather took a deep breath in, reminding Zahyra that this lecture wasn’t quite finished. “Is how you disregarded a direct order I had given you. You had no idea what that alarm sounded for. You didn’t know whether the facility was collapsing or whether a rogue group of advanced mutants had managed to break in. In fact, if either of those scenarios had presented itself I would probably be having this conversation with your corpse right now.”
