by T. Anderson
30
Patience
Erling Steinar was unable to leave the MONAD lab. It was his only safe place now—where no one would bother him. If he left the facility, he may not be allowed back in. He couldn’t be sure what Petra was up to outside. She obviously hadn’t alerted authorities because none had arrived to arrest him, but he also suspected her reason had more to do with the fact that she would only be incriminating herself by doing so. Petra now had blood on her hands too. He decided to wait. Gunnar would be here soon to help him. He was certain that his old friend would know what to do. They’d had their differences over the years—big, elephant-in-the-room kind of differences. But they had a common goal now that would surpass any of that—bring them back together. Back to the beginning.
As he sat at his desk, thinking, waiting, scheming, he had a sudden sensation that he was being watched. He looked up at the monitor that displayed the video from the hallway camera. Nothing. He returned to studying his notes. The feeling grew stronger. He glanced at the monitor again. Damn! Someone was standing at the door. How did that person appear so quickly? Bewildered, he squinted to get a better look at the screen. Who was it? It…it couldn’t be. Stella. What dumb luck! This was going to be easier than he had hoped.
Strangely, she hadn’t knocked on the heavy door, even while he was preparing a syringe of sedative for her. She just stood, motionless, behind the frosted glass, waiting. He fleetingly noted her odd behavior. It didn’t matter. He had her now. He calmly walked to the door and opened it. “Stella! What a surprise!” he exaggerated. “Back from school, I see…come in, come in. So nice of you to pay your old Dad a visit at work.”
Showing no emotion, she walked past him as he held the door open for her. She knew what he had planned to do and willingly entered the trap. He stuck the needle in the back of her neck and within seconds she was limp in his arms. He dragged her weightless body, thin and deteriorated, to one of the tables and easily lifted her up. He’d chosen a mild drug—one that wouldn’t last too long, just long enough to secure the straps that would prevent her from leaving. The discussion about her “willingness to participate” would take place forcibly, in these restraints.
When Stella regained physical consciousness, she didn’t bother or make any move to struggle. She only spoke.
“You’re a very lucky man, Erling Steinar.”
He grinned at her. “Why do you say that, Princess?” His idea of using her childhood nickname was intended to soften her.
“Princess…” she paused thoughtfully. “Your life has been spared, King. You were destined to be killed.”
He was so beyond reality, so far gone, that he didn’t even question how Stella knew anything about what happened earlier. “She didn’t have the guts. I suppose that does make me lucky,” he scoffed.
“The Queen made a choice. To change her path. You have a choice as well. It is not too late to reconcile your past.”
Erl furrowed his eyebrows and seethed sinisterly, “And what do you know of my past? Huh? Do you even realize the sacrifices I have made for you? What I’ve done—for you?” An angry red curtain of blood crept under the skin up his neck and colored his face. “Everything I have done in my past, Stella, has been for you! And you aren’t one bit thankful,” he spat.
Stella said nothing. She allowed his savage display of emotion. When he remembered what his task had been before the madness consumed him, he began to control himself. “Stella, Princess, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m trying to help you. I want to save you, don’t you see?”
“Erling, don’t you see? It is you who needs to be saved.” But there was no convincing him. His soul was unreachable, irreversibly lost in the dark, just plundering blindly on instinct.
“Stella, you’re going to take a little nap now. And when you wake up again, you will have changed your mind. You’ll see. Now sleep well, Princess.” He stuck another syringe into her arm—this time a stronger dosage. She would be out for a few hours this time.
As he prepared for this evening’s procedure, Erling looked nostalgically around the lab. He was thinking about the culmination of the last two decades…it had all been leading to this day. It was an important day, indeed. Always the scheduling and recording type, he clicked on his computer’s calendar to mark the date. December 20, 2012. Current time 11:52 a.m. Stella’s pale, peaceful face caught his attention as he walked to Myra’s video camera to verify its operation. A momentary flash of remorse struck him. Or was it regret? It passed too quickly to judge. It was gone before he pressed the “record” button.
31
Gathering
The fire roared wildly in the pristine sitting room. Kneeling on the limestone hearth, Petra began throwing files she’d gathered from the safe into the blaze. The burning papers caused smoldering ash to gracefully float around her, landing on the cream colored furniture and her favorite Persian rug. The tiny memory cards sizzled and melted, leaving only small bits and traces of damaged remains behind. Her eyes burned as she coughed from the smoke. Covering her nose and mouth, she continued through the pile of evidence. She wouldn’t rest until every last piece was gone. She heard a car pull up the long driveway.
Verner Hanson knocked on the grand oak double doors. Petra looked out cautiously before ushering him inside. “Someone is with you…who?”
“Aron and Dane. They insisted. I couldn’t leave them.”
“Well, get them inside. Something’s happened. Hurry.” Her eyes darted around the quiet, snow-covered property scanning for suspicious movement. It was early afternoon, and the shadows of the dull winter day were already beginning to creep out of hiding.
Dane took over burning the rest of the files while Petra told Vern about the events of last night.
“Where is Stella?” he asked. Aron was listening intently and waited for an answer with baited breath.
“She was gone by the time I returned home. I think… it’s really the only place she would be.”
Dane poked the long iron stick into the fire to stir up the flames. He was finished. “Let’s go, then,” he said, protectively. “I’m not letting that hideous monster hurt her.” He directed his command at Vern only, but as the two men made for the door, Aron followed. “No way,” Dane protested. “You’re staying here.”
“Like hell!” Aron snapped. “Start the car.” Bundling their coats as they rushed from the house, they left Petra behind, her face contorted with despair.
“God help you,” Petra whispered, for her ears alone, as the tires skidded down the icy drive, kicking up tracks of snow.
Before they reached the security gates at MONAD, Aron traded places and took the wheel. Once again, she would become Stella. Vern pulled his hood over his head and slouched down in the back seat. She pulled cautiously close to the security station and lowered her window as the guard came out.
The man looked up from the license plate of the rental car and moved toward the window. “Stella! Hey, you’re back!” The guard recognized her. Lucky. “You here to see your dad?”
“Yeah. He’s working.” She pretended she knew him and camouflaged her fear with a nervous smile.
“He’s dedicated, all right. Hasn’t left the building since yesterday.” He stooped to check out her companions in the car. “Friends?”
“Yeah, some friends from school. Dad told us he’d take them on a tour.” The guard hesitated. Then he tapped the roof twice above Aron’s head.
“Go on in then, don’t want to keep the boss waiting,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks…Bill,” she grasped his name at the last second from the I.D. badge he wore on his pocket, then batted her eyelashes to seal the deal.
“Yeah, for sure, Stella. Have fun.” They were in.
She pulled the car around to the side entrance as Petra had instructed. It was the middle of the day now and employees were busily moving in and out of the building. She used Petra’s pass to activate the door lock. The receptionist in the main lobby spotted
them, but then recognized Aron and cheerily called out, “Merry Christmas, Stella!” Aron barely felt her hand as it waved back to the woman. Vern lead them to the deserted stairs. They flew down in single file—Vern, Dane, then Aron. She resisted his instructions to remain behind in the landing when they reached the level of the laboratory.
They knew about the camera. Vern looked directly at it when he addressed Erl. “We know she’s in there, Erling.” He reached around inside his coat and pulled out Petra’s gun, flashing it at the camera. “We just want her back, safe and sound. That’s all.” He tried his best to sound non-confrontational, neutral. Persuasive, even. “We’ve burned all the other evidence, Erl. You can just leave here. Forget anything happened.”
Unable to contain himself, Dane erupted. “This is bullshit!” He banged on the glass door. “Stella! Stella!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls.
Erling’s heavy footsteps thumped to the door. Before opening it he said, “Stop shouting. Put the gun down and I’ll open the door.” Vern pushed Dane back and looked at the camera as he held the gun in the air and exaggerated his moves as he set it down on the cold, cement floor. The door unlatched and swung open. Erl shuffled his footsteps backward with his palms open at his sides, as if surrendering. There was no trace of Dr. Hadrian or her remains, but they spotted Stella lying on the table, her straps removed. She was motionless, eyes closed.
Aron gasped. “Oh my God, Stella!”
As Erl reared further into the lab, he reassured them, “She fine. She’s just sleeping. Go ahead, check her pulse.” Dane and Vern kept Erl in their sights, ready to react as Aron rushed to Stella’s side. Grabbing her wrist, she exhaled a sigh of relief. “She’s alive.” Aron delicately touched Stella’s face as she looked closely at her. She was so gaunt, so withered, but her skin felt warm and soft. As she bent to kiss her forehead, an aromatic wave of mingled scents enveloped her. Floral, spicy, she wasn’t sure. And she felt an overwhelming sense of peace and calm. Stella was speaking to her.
“I’m here, sister,” Aron said. The rest of their conversation was without speech.
Erl collapsed into a chair at the back of the room, against a wall. Although he appeared exhausted and defeated, he was only stalling. He glanced quickly at the video camera. Still working. He wanted everything to be recorded. Absolutely everything.
Dane went to Stella and began to gather her up into his arms. Erling interrupted. “You can’t leave yet.” They all stopped and stared at him. “You’ll never make it out of here at this time of day. You’ll be caught. Wait until dark. I’ll tell you how to get her out.”
Vern nodded to Dane. “He’s right. There is no chance we’ll all get out together. Not now. It’ll be dark in less than two hours. We’ll wait.”
Dane carefully laid Stella’s emaciated body back down on the table. He glared menacingly at Erling. “Two hours in the same room with you is two hours too many. You leave then.”
“No. That’s not the deal. We all leave together,” Erling wagered as he shook his head.
Dane shot Vern an angry look. “Fine. He keeps his damn mouth shut then. I don’t want to hear his pathetic voice.” Dane grabbed two other chairs and offered one to Aron. They sat beside Stella, protecting her, comforting her.
Vern approached Erl. “What did you give her? Did you drug her?”
“Just a mild sedative. She’ll be awake soon.” His eyes lowered to the floor. He fingered his shiny Rolex, crossed and uncrossed his arms as he waited, as they all waited. Vern paced the room as he kept an eye on the clock, unaware that it wasn’t darkness Erling was waiting for.
“You realize we have all we need…right now.” Erling broke the silence.
“What?” Vern asked, looking over at Dane. He couldn’t afford a scuffle to begin. Dane shot them a dirty look as if to tell him to keep quiet. Vern continued in a hushed voice, “Are you serious, Erl? You really think I would do that?”
“Be honest with yourself, Vern. You want to save her. Don’t you? Just like the last time. Remember?” He’d begun playing mind games with Vern, testing him to see how far he could push. Maybe he wouldn’t even need Gunnar.
“Look, Vern. You’re here. I’m here. Stella’s here. And now we have Aron. Her sister. How convenient.”
“You’re crazy, Erl. She’s not pregnant, you idiot.” He shook his head, rejecting the idea.
“You sure about that?” Erl whispered manipulatively. Vern stared into his eyes and then glanced over at the young couple, huddled near Stella, waiting for her to awaken. He hadn’t considered it until now. He really didn’t know for sure. The thought had never occurred to him. What if Aron was pregnant? Would it change his mind? Would he be willing to break the promise he made to Stella? The question loomed over him, taunting him. They sat in silence for another half hour as the temptation grew in his mind like a dark cloud moving in off the lake.
32
Lighting the Fuse
Dane was restless. “Vern, come on man. We’ve waited long enough. It’s gotta be getting dark out there. I say we split. Let’s go.” He was struggling to remain calm, trying not to upset Aron, worried what the stress might be doing to her and the baby.
A battle had overtaken Verner’s brain. He was torn, wanting to honor Stella’s wishes—wanting to please her. But he also couldn’t bear the thought of losing her—for good. He couldn’t imagine his life going on without her, knowing she would be gone forever. He wanted her soul to stay with his, even if that meant moving hers to another body. And he knew he could do it—he’d done it before. The decision was tearing him apart inside. If he blatently asked Aron the question, “Are you pregnant?” they would surely suspect his intentions. He needed more time to think it through. He looked at the clock. 4:26 p.m. “Fifteen more minutes, Dane. Patience. It won’t be dark as night, but it will be dark enough to escape unseen if we’re careful. Hang in there.”
Just then, a series of simultaneous events began to unravel, like someone had set fire to a long fuse. Stella began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, slowly focusing on Aron’s face. “She’s waking up,” she said hopefully. “Stella? Can you hear me?” All their eyes were on her as a noise echoed from the hallway, immediately shifting their attention to the hallway monitor.
“Someone’s coming,” Dane said quietly. Erl reacted as if he knew nothing about it, using his power to control the situation.
“Everyone quiet,” Erling instructed holding his finger to his lips. “Probably just security. Don’t panic.”
“Shit!” Vern seethed in a low whisper. “The gun. It’s on the floor. Outside the door.” They all waited and watched in suspense to see if the person would keep walking past the door. But the person stopped. Aron stood, moving close to the monitor screen.
“It’s Dad,” she whispered, unbelievably. The Alchemist, she thought to herself. Her heart began to beat like a hammer, and she lost her breath. She should have known this would happen. She felt faint. Dane steadied her.
“Gunnar?” Vern asked suspiciously. “How did he know?” Turning toward Erling, it all began to make sense. “You liar!” he shouted. “You were only keeping us here, waiting for him to show up. Why did I believe you?” He was furious.
Gunnar bent down and picked up the gun. He didn’t usually condone violence, but this was a rare occasion. He may need it for self-defense and the weapon was conveniently lying there. “I hope the party hasn’t started without me,” he called loud enough for them all to hear.
The veins in Dane’s temples were pulsating with fury. “You’re all a bunch of lying bastards! Huh? What are we doing here? Who’s idea was this? Are you all in on this together?” He was so enraged and now trusted none of the three men. His anger seemed to reveal his secret.
“So she is pregnant,” Erling poked. “Tisk, tisk. How utterly fateful.” Aron hung her head in embarrassment as Dane consoled her. Erl turned to Vern, “Are you opening the door or shall I?”
Vern was speechless. H
e still hadn’t decided what he was going to do. But he knew Gunnar had the weapon. If he stood up against him, he would probably be killed. The risk was too great. He refused to leave Stella and Aron in their hands, without him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured to Dane, Aron and the half-wakened Stella. He moved to the door. He felt as if he had no control over his body. It was moving on instinct, in slow motion. He opened the door and Gunnar strode in.
“Hey Vern! How’s it goin’? Now, why is everybody so down around here?” The door closed again behind him. No one moved.
“Glad you could make it, Gunnar.” Erling seemed to be the only one pleased to see him, although he was irritated he’d waited so long; a few minutes more and fate would have taken a different turn.
“Come on, everybody…it’s a day for celebration. Turn those frowns upside down,” he encouraged in his laid back California way. It was impossible for anyone to react or know what to do next while he swung the gun around.
Stella began to move. She was weak, but with Aron’s help she sat up. The two of them huddled together, using each other for support as Aron asked, “Where’s Mom?”
“Cybele? Oh, I ‘dropped her off’ at the Steinar’s,” he answered, making hand gestures mimicking quotation marks around the words “dropped her off.” “We don’t need them here…too many cooks in the kitchen, you know. I’m pretty sure our spiritual future doesn’t depend on their presence.”
“How did you get inside the facility?” Vern asked.
