by Scott Cramer
As they walked across the campus together, Lisette remembered the desperate cries of the survivors clinging to the fence, and trembled.
“Doctor Perkins is very busy, and I expect your evaluation will be short,” Doctor Hoffer said. “Either you’ll become a member of Generation M, or he will order your removal from the colony. Doctor Ramanathan mentioned that to you, right?”
Lisette nodded as her heart thumped wildly.
Doctor Hoffer led her to Mendel Hall and into a room on the first floor, which had big windows looking out on Medical Clinic 3. Chandra, who was already there, gave Lisette a huge hug and told her that Doctor Perkins and Doctor Droznin would join them soon on the television.
Lisette sat in a chair in the middle of the room, facing two televisions. One showed a live picture of a room at Colony East. The TV beside it showed a picture of her, with Chandra and Doctor Hoffer sitting at a table to her left.
A grunt came from the TV speaker, and a woman with thick, reddish-brown hair hobbled into the room at Colony East on crutches.
“Good morning, Doctor Droznin,” Doctor Hoffer said.
Doctor Droznin nodded and looked at her computer.
A moment later, Doctor Perkins entered the room and sat beside Doctor Droznin.
Soon, Doctor Perkins’s face filled the entire TV screen. Round glasses were perched on the bridge of a long, narrow nose, and his brow furrowed. “We have quite a mess on our hands. We are evacuating Colony East.”
“What?” Doctor Hoffer exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
“We’ll be sending all the Generation M children to Atlanta,” Doctor Perkins said. “I’d like to propose that we cancel today’s evaluation and focus on the evacuation. I’ve reviewed 944’s profile, and she doesn’t qualify as a member of Generation M.”
Lisette felt like grasshoppers were hopping around in her tummy.
“I disagree,” Doctor Droznin said. “We should have the evaluation.”
The TV speaker went silent, and the two scientists spoke to each other. Lisette could see their lips moving. Doctor Perkins gestured with his hands.
A moment later, the sound returned.
“After deciding 944’s status, we’ll discuss the evacuation plan,” Doctor Perkins said. “Let’s begin.”
The Atlanta Colony TV showed a close-up of Chandra.
“Nine four four is five years old.” It sounded funny to hear Chandra use her Colony ID instead of saying her name. “She arrived March sixth….”
“Yes, yes, yes, we all know her background,” Doctor Perkins interrupted. “Please display her aptitude scores.”
A colorful picture with numbers appeared on the screen. “As you can see, her test results in math and science are somewhat poor,” Chandra said.
“Extremely poor,” Doctor Perkins said.
“Lisette started her coursework three weeks ago,” Doctor Droznin interjected. “We should consider these results as a benchmark. We can retest her again in three months.”
Doctor Perkins tapped his fingertips together. “Nine four four’s intellect ranks in the lowest percentile. Additional testing will not change that.”
“How do Lisette’s scores compare to the pre-comet population?” Doctor Droznin asked.
“She has an IQ of 134,” Chandra said. “That would have put her in the top two percentiles of the general population.”
Doctor Perkins cleared his throat. “The pre-comet population is irrelevant now. The society of the future demands we nurture only the best and brightest. The average IQ for Generation M at Atlanta Colony is 155.”
“May I see the Torrance results?” Doctor Droznin asked.
Lisette did not understand what the scientists were talking about, so she kept an eye on Chandra. If Chandra looked afraid, Lisette would think the evaluation was not going well, and she would become even more afraid.
A new screen appeared with a line shaped like a mountain. The mountain had a green dot placed near the peak. “Nine four four is one of the most creative children in the colony,” Chandra said.
Lisette understood that, and she felt proud for a split second before her fear returned.
Doctor Perkins spoke up. “We need to develop engineers, mathematicians, physicists. The arts and humanities are a lesser priority.”
“Creativity is essential in science,” Doctor Droznin said. “Einstein played the violin. Leonardo da Vinci, the greatest scientist of his time, was also the greatest artist of the day.”
“Albert Einstein had an IQ of one-hundred sixty,” Doctor Perkins said. “Creativity, combined with an average IQ, is worthless.”
Doctor Hoffer raised a finger. “We believe 944 has other promising attributes.”
“Can we please expedite the evaluation?” Doctor Perkins said. “Show us 944’s mating profile.”
The faces of three boys, along with their ID number and location, flashed on the screen one at a time. The first boy from Colony East wore thick glasses. The second one from Colony East had a devilish grin that made Lisette think of her friend, Timmy, on Castine Island, and the last boy from Colony West had freckles and a spiky cowlick.
“There are three optimal pairings, two from Colony East, and one from Colony West,” Chandra said.
“Only three?” Doctor Perkins leaned forward. “Future generations are as critical as the present one. It’s the reason we set a benchmark of five potential pairings.”
The speaker went silent again. Doctor Perkins and Doctor Droznin seemed to argue. Doctor Droznin’s face reddened. As Lisette watched the two scientists, she placed her tongue against her tooth and pushed it forward. It was so close to falling out.
The sound returned and Doctor Perkins said, “Please continue.”
“We made the following field observation during a free-association period,” Chandra said.
Lisette’s jaw dropped when she saw herself with a bright red dot above her head. A blue dot hovered above a group of kids standing close to her. They were in the free-association yard where recess was held.
The scene came to life. Ernie, from Unit 2B, pushed Molly to the ground. Lisette remembered that happening. Ernie had tripped Molly to be mean. Lisette watched herself approach Ernie and wag a finger in his face. Ernie lowered his head and went over to Molly.
“From post-incident interviews, we know that 944 made 912 apologize to 468,” Chandra added.
“Lisette Leigh has leadership potential,” Doctor Droznin declared.
Doctor Perkins let out a long sigh. “Nine four four, you’ve been sitting there so quietly. It’s my job to determine who will remain part of Generation M. Despite having only an average intellect, you have made quite an impression on my colleagues. Of course, I understand Doctor Droznin’s motivation for having you remain in the colony. You are an important test subject. Frankly, I find myself on the fence.” He took off his glasses and looked at a sheet of paper. “Several references are made to your stubbornness.”
Lisette flushed with excitement. “My family has a stubborn gene. Abby told me that.”
“I’m glad you mentioned family. There was an incident at the morning spirit drill. Tell me, 944, do you believe that your brother and sister are dead?”
The words washed over Lisette like ice water. Chandra stared intently at her, nodding. Doctor Hoffer also nodded. They both wanted her to tell a white lie. Because if she lied, she could stay at Atlanta Colony and she could see her friends again.
Lisette, her heart beating so fast she heard a humming sound inside her head, looked directly at the TV and shouted, “Abby and Jordan are alive!”
Doctor Hoffer dropped his chin to his chest, and Chandra covered her mouth with her hand.
Doctor Perkins nodded. “Nine four four, you leave me no choice but to expel you from the colony. I can also tell you without a doubt that your sister is dead. She drowned in the Hudson River while trying to escape the colony.”
Lisette ignored the sob rumbling in her chest and jumped to her feet.
/> “That’s a lie! Abby knows how to swim. She’s alive!” She marched up to the TV and put her hands on her hips. “Abby is alive! Abby is alive! Jordan is alive. Abby and Jordan are alive.” She shouted until her throat became too raw to make noise.
“Will someone please escort 944 to the processing center?” Doctor Perkins said.
Lisette felt an arm around her shoulder. Chandra kneeled beside her, and Lisette buried her face in her white lab coat.
“Let’s not be hasty,” Doctor Hoffer said. “I have a procedure that will help Lisette forget about her brother and sister.”
“I don’t want to forget them,” Lisette said in Chandra’s ear.
Chandra pulled her closer, and a long moment of silence followed. Lisette twisted her head and saw that Doctor Droznin’s and Doctor Perkins’s lips were moving at the same time.
Lisette did what she always did to feel less afraid. She pressed her ear against Chandra’s chest and counted the beats of her heart.
The TV speaker came to life with Doctor Perkins’s voice.
“Doctor Hoffer, your procedure is still in the experimental phase.”
“Yes, but I believe it’s safe,” Hoffer replied.
“Fine,” Perkins said. “Go ahead, perform your procedure. I’ll look forward to seeing the results. In the meantime, 944 will remain a provisional member of Generation M. We’ll conduct another evaluation in three months. Now, let’s discuss the evacuation.”
“Please take Lisette to Medical Clinic 3,” Doctor Hoffer said to Chandra.
Lisette dropped to her knees and curled into a tiny ball, which made her feel safer. Every muscle was twisting tight with fear. Tears blurred her vision, and she took tiny sips of air, which was the only way she could breathe with her chest frozen. Chandra draped an arm over her back and said, “You won’t feel a thing, I promise. Come with me.”
Chandra’s voice sounded far away.
Suddenly, Lisette felt something hard between her lip and gum. The tip of her tongue found an open gap. Her tooth had fallen out.
1.14
BROOKLYN
The butterscotch candy had dissolved on Abby’s tongue a lifetime ago.
In the back seat of the getaway car, she hugged her knees to her chest. The stabbing pain in the pit of her stomach faded and a new ache flared across her back. The pain was like gooey putty. By twisting and bending her torso, or tightening her stomach muscles, she could squeeze it to a new location, but it never went away. The good news was that she was running out of body parts that could hurt.
She checked the time. Lexi had been gone for nearly two hours, and Abby feared the worst: the girl had disappeared with the fish.
She remembered Lexi saying that Toby had stockpiled food and gasoline in the trunk. Abby lifted her head above the seat to peer out the back window. With nobody in sight, she crawled into the front seat and pulled the lever on the driver’s side door to pop the trunk. She stepped out of the car and quietly closed the door behind her.
Before opening the trunk, she hobbled to the alley entrance and discovered the street was clear in both directions. Getting their food stolen by some kid infected with the Pig was the last thing she wanted.
Picturing in her mind a trunk packed with a variety of tasty treats, Abby’s mouth watered as she limped back to the car. She lifted the trunk lid and discovered the trunk was empty, except for a balled-up tarp.
Crushed with despair, she grabbed the tarp and flung it, sending a hail of mouse droppings to the ground, and then slammed the trunk shut. She buried her face in her hands.
A cold ache swirled in Abby’s heart as she realized she was on her own. Lexi had lied to her about the food and gas, and probably about everything else too.
She had to make it back to the fish market. Could she find her way? Did she have enough strength to make it that far? The only way to find out was to start walking. She put her hand on the walkie-talkie tucked in her waistband for reassurance.
Suddenly, fingers pinched her shoulder, and her hair stood on end as her adrenaline surged. She shouted and wheeled around, ready to defend herself. The boy had a shaved head and was shorter than her. He wore a hooded sweatshirt. Diamonds studded the outside of one ear.
“Stop it,” he said in a hushed but forceful voice.
His calloused hands gripped her wrists hard, but she pulled her right arm free. She flailed and kicked, and he seemed shocked that someone so sick was fighting back.
He took several steps back and raised his hands as if to surrender. “Abby. Stop it.”
How did he know her name?
She stared at the boy. “Oh my God,” she cried. “Toby.”
1.15
COLONY EAST
Dawson noted the unusual seating arrangement for the emergency meeting of company leaders and command staff. Ordinarily, Navy personnel clustered together in one quadrant of the big round table in the Gregor Mendel conference room, while the scientists sat on the opposite side of the table. Now, Lieutenant Mathews and Doctor Perkins were elbow to elbow, while Doctor Droznin and Doctor Levine perched closer to Dawson, Lieutenant Marks, Lieutenant Masters, and Admiral Samuels.
Dawson worried more than ever about the old man. The parts of his personality that commanded respect were missing. He seemed hollow.
Doctor Perkins glanced at his gold watch and began the meeting at precisely the top of the hour. “Doctor Levine, will you give us a status update on the antibiotic shipment?”
Doctor Levine, a soft-spoken scientist with graying hair, said the jet from Atlanta Colony had landed an hour ago. “The pills will be delivered to Medical Clinic 17.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Doctor Perkins said. “Lieutenant Mathews, will you coordinate the distribution of pills to the companies?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Perkins reviewed the antibiotic’s effectiveness. “One dose is typically all that’s required for protection against the bacteria. If someone has contracted AHA-B, they should feel better within a few hours of taking a pill. For others, a second dose will be needed to provide a full cure. We requested enough pills for Generation M to take multiple doses.”
Dawson’s spirits lifted. With the colony having received more doses than it needed, he could skim pills and obtain at least two each for his daughter, Sarah, Abigail Leigh, her brother Jordan, and Toby Jones. Beyond them, every additional pill he acquired for Jonzy to take with him could save the life of a survivor outside the colony.
“Do you wish to add anything Doctor Droznin?” Perkins asked.
Droznin kept her nose buried in her laptop.
Perkins cleared his throat. “Doctor Droznin?”
“Nothing to add,” she replied curtly.
Dawson wondered if the chilly exchange and seating arrangement signaled friction between the two. He disliked the Russian scientist, but he could not deny her toughness. She’d been shot in the knee less than forty-eight hours ago by Cadet Leigh, yet Droznin had hobbled to the meeting on her own steam.
“Are there other questions?” Doctor Perkins asked.
Dawson waved his hand. “Can you share any updates on the plan to distribute pills outside the colonies?”
Dawson had asked the question many times before.
“Generation M is, and will remain, our top priority,” Perkins said. “But I remain deeply concerned about the children who fall outside of our direct care. We’re doing the very best we can in light of the available resources.”
Dawson waded deeper into the quicksand of Doctor Perkins’s lies. “If the plant in Alpharetta is operational, we can manufacture and distribute pills and care for Generation M at the same time.”
Perkins cast his eyes around the table. “Once we’ve completed the evacuation, we can turn our attention to other matters. Lieutenant Mathews will brief you on the next steps of the evacuation plan.”
Mathews smirked at Dawson, a subtle dig that nobody else would have picked it up.
“All companies are mo
ving to Atlanta Colony,” she began. “The evacuation flights will leave tomorrow. Armed convoys will escort the cadets to the airport, one company at a time. The only thing the cadets should bring is the clothes they have on their backs.”
Dawson was relieved to learn that Biltmore was going to Atlanta where he could join forces with Sandy.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Perkins said. “Our final agenda item deals with several reassignments. Lieutenant Dawson, you will go to Colony West for special projects. Lieutenant Mathews will assume command of Biltmore Company.”
An invisible fist slammed into Dawson’s chest and flattened his lungs, leaving him lightheaded and gasping for air. Special projects was code for “twiddle your thumbs behind a desk.” He could have cared less what they wanted him to do. He’d stand on his head and blow bubbles through his nose, so as long as he went to Atlanta. In the rush of chaotic thoughts tumbling through his brain, he focused on the single goal of keeping his tone measured.
“May I ask why you are reassigning me?” he asked calmly.
“Change is healthy,” Perkins replied.
“If Lieutenant Mathews takes over Biltmore Company, there will be an opening at Sheraton,” Dawson said. “I can fill that.”
Perkins impatiently glanced at his Omega. “Doctor Levine will assume command of Sheraton Company.”
Dawson snapped his head to the mild-mannered Levine. “You’re putting a scientist in charge of a company?” he blurted.
“A growth opportunity for Doctor Levine,” Perkins said, pushing his chair back, ready to stand.
Mathews chimed in, “Dawson, I need you to update the cadet profiles. I’ll stop by Biltmore at sixteen hundred hours to meet with my cadets.”
Dawson focused on Admiral Samuels. “The cadets need continuity. I can accompany them to Atlanta. I’ll transfer to Colony West once they’ve adjusted.”
“Your cadets will be in capable hands.” Perkins smiled, now on his feet.
“Sir, do you support my transfer?” Dawson asked the admiral.
The old man lifted his chin and his barrel chest rose and fell visibly. He rested his large hands on the table and swiveled his head.
