Betrayed

by Francine Pascal

  “What?” Gaia asked, narrowing her eyes as she rode a fine line between concern and confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Tatiana murmured, looking even more depressed than she had before. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Tatiana said, dragging herself back to the couch and curling up as far from Gaia as possible. Boy, did she have the guilt trip mastered. “He says he needs to talk to you.”

  “Well…I can’t,” Gaia said, darting her eyes over to the receiver on the table, wanting so badly to grab it and hear his voice for just a few seconds. But that was the absolute opposite of what she needed to do. She needed to double her coldness and avoidance to make up for the day’s mistakes. She needed to cast him way, way out again, back into the world of safety. “Tell him I can’t.”

  “He says he has to talk to you,” Tatiana mumbled. “Now. Emergency, he says.”

  Gaia stared at the phone a few seconds more and then ran to grab it. She’d have to set him straight now. She’d have to send him an ice-cold message to leave her the hell alone. And maybe…listen to his voice for a few seconds.

  “Ed, listen to me,” she barked. “I made a big mistake by—”

  “Gaia, listen,” Ed interrupted with an oddly grave tone to his voice. “I’m at the hospital. St. Vincent’s. It’s Heather, Gaia. Something’s happened to Heather, and—”

  “What?” Gaia cut him off. “What do you mean? What happened? Did someone—”

  “She wants to talk to you, Gaia,” Ed interrupted again, sounding so disturbingly serious. “She wants you here now. Just you and me, she says. Can you get here immediately? You’ve got to get here now.”

  Gaia was at a complete loss for words. Except for the one word that had suddenly begun to sting her brain. Josh.

  Josh had hurt Heather somehow. That’s what it had to be. Just like Gaia knew he would. And Gaia had done nothing to stop it. Sure, she’d tried to talk some sense into Heather, to warn her, but Heather seemed to have given in completely to some kind of chemical imbalance. She’d succumbed to these weird fits of violence and paranoia and all kinds of bizarre delusions of grandeur. But Gaia should have cut through it somehow. She could have cut through it. She was strong enough.

  Déjà vu had never felt so sickening. Gaia had been through all this before with Heather. There had been another chance to warn Heather all those months ago—to save her, and she’d completely screwed that one up, too. She’d let her own pride get in the way, and it had ended up getting Heather slashed in the middle of Washington Square Park. And now here they were again. Heather was back in the hospital, and somehow, one way or another…Gaia knew it was her fault . Again.

  She managed to control the overwhelming wave of guilt washing over her long enough to answer Ed’s question. If Heather wanted Gaia there, then Gaia would be there. She absolutely deserved every bit of punishment that Heather wanted to dole out, which was surely why Heather wanted so badly to see her.

  “I’m coming,” Gaia said, a cold chill running down her back. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Okay,” Ed said. “I’ll tell her.”

  The phone went dead before Gaia could say another word. Oh God. Ed must hate her even more than Heather did. He and Heather must be sitting in that hospital room cursing the day Gaia Moore set foot in that school. And they’d have every right. The Curse of Gaia Moore had spread like a deadly virus to the far reaches of Gaia’s world. She was responsible for all of it. So many people’s pain. Now she was just praying that Heather would be okay—that she could survive the curse.

  “I have to go,” Gaia said, rushing for the door.

  Tatiana flashed her a pained glance.

  “It has nothing to do with me and Ed,” Gaia assured her. “I swear.” Gaia wanted to bring Tatiana with her, but Ed had made it abundantly clear that Heather only wanted to see Gaia, and Gaia wanted to be damn sure to respect Heather’s wishes. Too little, too late, she chided herself as she opened the door. Still, something felt very wrong about leaving Tatiana alone in the house.

  “Look,” Gaia said, trying to figure out some way to bring her along. “Do…do you want to come with me?”

  “No,” Tatiana mumbled, keeping an entire couch cushion pressed to her chest. “I want to stay here. I don’t want to move. You do what you have to….”

  “I swear this isn’t about Ed,” Gaia said again, trying to figure which person in her life was making her feel the guiltiest right now. It was a tie. Between all of them. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Just go,” Tatiana said.

  “I’m going. Just do me a favor, okay?”

  “What?” Tatiana grunted.

  “I want you to lock the door,” Gaia said. “I want you to lock all the doors, close the shades, and steer clear of the windows, okay?” Tatiana didn’t answer. “Okay?” Gaia pushed.

  “Okay,” Tatiana agreed reluctantly, curling up even further.

  “Okay,” Gaia said more calmly. “I’ll be right back.”

  She closed the door behind her and headed for the stairs. But she stopped in the middle of the hallway and waited until she heard Tatiana lock the door. It gave her at least a moment of relief. But only a moment. Because the facts were still the facts.

  Gaia and Tatiana had nearly died, and Heather was in the hospital. Loki’s mind games were over. He was way past his convincing double-talk and his cryptic little schemes. Sometime in the last hour…he’d gone on the warpath. Either that or he’d lost what was left of his mind.

  Loki

  An Open Letter

  Lo and behold, it is true. We are in fact wasting the majority of our lives. I suppose I’d always had my suspicions, but I was never sure until now. Yes, I have given myself one very simple injection, and glory, hallelujah, I have seen the light.

  You want to know the truth? You all might as well be locked up in pods and cocoons until the auspicious day when everyone will be able to inject themselves with 20 ccs of phobosan II. Because until that day, let me tell you what your life will consist of.

  Absolutely nothing. Oh, you will surely convince yourself that it is something. But believe me, as long as you feel fear, your life is nothing.

  You see, one day you will take the shot, as I have, and you will wake up, and you will realize that the life you were leading—a life with fear—is the human equivalent of living in a Roach Motel. You, good citizens of Now, are human cockroaches. Stuck in a brown cardboard box, staring out at the light and convincing yourself that with just a little more effort, you’ll reach that light, totally unaware that your fearful little legs are absolutely glued to the ground.

  And so you will dream of the light, and you will imagine yourself reaching the light, and you will plot out your little road to the light. You will even convince yourselves that if you don’t reach the light in life, then, of course, you’re sure to see the light in death. How very tragic, don’t you think? How miserably, miserably sad.

  You must understand: That glue that is holding your little insect legs to the ground…that is fear.

  Fear is the reason you’re still in that pathetic little town. Fear is the reason you’re still in that miserable job and that horrible school. Fear is the reason that you are poor and unsuccessful and unpopular. It is the reason you are ugly, the reason you are stupid. It is the reason you are nothing.

  Because you won’t let go. You won’t face the facts. You won’t free yourself from the glue.

  Dr. Glenn has obviously perfected the drug, as this second generation of phobosan has left me in a state of utter euphoria without one single side effect to show for it. There are none of the violent tendencies we were seeing in subject B. None of those hideous outbursts and uncontrollable spasms the Gannis girl was exhibiting. Just complete and unadulterated clarity. The only thing that shot of phobosan has done to me is wake me from a lifelong sleep.

  I realize now that I have been holding on for so long. Abs
olutely mired in glue. And now, with my fears cast aside, I am ready to let go.

  All this time, each and every one of my plans had been failing for one very simple reason. I was trying to carry out every plan without losing Gaia. I’m no longer ashamed to say it now. I’m no longer ashamed to say anything.

  I was afraid of losing my daughter.

  Just as I had been desperately afraid of losing Katia. I had convinced myself that I could not live without Gaia, I could not live without my daughter’s love.

  Glue. Nothing but glue.

  You see, this fearless blood that is now running through my veins…that’s the only part of Gaia I need now. All I wanted was to bring my daughter back into my life—to make her a part of me again. And I’ve done that. I now have bits and pieces of Gaia inside me. But ironically, it’s really my daughter’s fearless genes that have helped me free myself of her. Until now, I’ve just been too afraid to admit what I’ve really always known.

  I will never win her over. Gaia is never going to love me. Never.

  You see how easy it is without fear to nail me to the ground? The simple truths! The beautiful truths that will be my freedom and my salvation! Katia is long gone. And the child we shared will never love me.

  The conclusion here is so obvious, I cannot even fathom how many years I’ve wasted avoiding it. I don’t need her anymore. I don’t need anyone. You see, I am finally capable of doing what every one of you would be far too afraid to do. I am starting my life from scratch. I am going to eliminate all the chaff from my life—all the painful glue that has kept me paralyzed, and then I will finally move on. Straight into the light.

  I will no longer fear dead ends. There are no dead ends. There are other women for me to meet, and when I meet the right one, we will have new sons and daughters of our own. And perhaps those sons and daughters will be even more special than Gaia, given my new genetic makeup. And that woman, and all my sons and daughters…they will all love me the way I should have been loved in the first place—by my brother, by Katia, by Gaia. I know this now. I can believe it one hundred percent because there is no fear to taint that belief.

  Yes, it is time to close out the entire fearful chapter of my life. I see now what I must do. In order to start the new, I must first destroy the old—rid myself of the glue. So I suppose this will be my last good-bye to everyone that I’ll need to eliminate—everyone who has kept me stuck in this fearful and unsuccessful stagnant void. Good-bye, Tom and Natasha. Good-bye to the Gannis girl and Gaia’s young friend Tatiana.

  And good-bye, my dear Gaia. The world will be a much smaller place without you in it, but speaking as one fearless person to another, I know you understand what I must do.

  It is time to wipe the slate clean.

  Nine-Millimeter Automatic

  “FIRST AND FOREMOST, CONGRATULATIONS are in order.” Loki offered his most generous smile as he turned to Dr. Glenn and his other mild-mannered colleagues in white lab coats. The single exposed lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling was just bright enough to illuminate their grateful if somewhat reserved smiles.

  “I know I can be quite demanding at times,” Loki went on, making brief eye contact with each of the dimly lit doctors on the team, “but perhaps now you can all see why I have been so demanding. Phobosan II is an unequivocal victory, and for that, I commend you all. I only wish you could experience its remarkable properties firsthand, as I have.”

  “Sir, if I might,” Dr. Glenn interjected, the smile still pasted across his face. “I am a bit concerned about your decision to volunteer yourself as the test subject for the second generation. We really haven’t been able to fully test the drug, and I’d like to—”

  “Oh, I appreciate your caution, Dr. Glenn,” Loki interrupted, “but I assure you, you are selling yourself short.” He stood up out of his tattered black leather chair and moved closer to the doctor, staring into his eyes with sharp, pointed confidence. “Look at me, Doctor. I think I’m far from a ‘test subject.’ The testing stage is clearly over. No kinks, no side effects, not even any mild side effects. Unless, of course, you consider supreme confidence and total clarity of mind side effects. I’m not even sure you understand how profound a victory this is. We’ve done so much more than just concoct a fearless serum here.”

  “Well, sir, I know that right now you may be feeling quite—”

  “Doctor, I assure you, you have no idea what I am feeling right now. You might understand if you or your staff had even a fraction of my courage and were willing to take the injection, but I suppose that’s the irony, isn’t it? You’re all too afraid to be fearless.”

  Loki turned from the doctor and took a few steps back from the group to address them more officially. “Now, enough of the congratulations,” he announced. “Let me move on to apologies. Because I owe one to each of you.”

  Loki watched as the faces before him took on varying degrees of confusion. Looking particularly baffled were the two matching faces to his right—the faces of QR1 and QR2—the two remaining genetic clones of Josh Kendall. Of course, their DNA was now the only thing that remained of Josh, as Loki had been forced to terminate the real Kendall. The boy’s feelings for Heather Gannis had led to him to be quite stupidly disloyal, and Loki had been left with no choice but to eliminate him. Normally, having to look at these two identical images of Josh’s face would only frustrate Loki further, but with phobosan II coursing through his veins, nothing so trivial was going to faze him.

  “Apologies?” QR1 asked with that same insistent tone that had begun to make Josh such a nuisance. “Apologies for what?” Apparently their faces weren’t the only things that were identical. It seemed one could clone an attitude as well.

  But they did have every right to be confused. Loki knew that his staff wasn’t at all accustomed to hearing him apologize. After all, he had always made it quite clear that they were the ones making all the mistakes. But now he had come to realize a certain ignorance in that perception, and he felt compelled to set the record straight.

  “Well, for a couple of things, actually,” Loki replied. “First of all, I’d like to apologize for the rather shoddy surroundings.” He opened his arms slightly and referenced the grayish-white walls and the dark, creaky floors of the five-story Brooklyn brownstone. He’d left all the splintered wooden floors unfinished and put in no furniture other than a few absolutely necessary secondhand items.

  “I know these are not the kinds of accoutrements you are used to, but I assure you, this is all we’re going to need. We’re not going to be here for very long, and when we leave, that is when we’re going to want to dispose of the furniture and clean the floors of evidence.”

  A few members of Dr. Glenn’s team averted their eyes. The word evidence clearly made them uncomfortable.

  “But much more importantly,” he went on, “I want to apologize to all of you for…well, for making a mess of things, really.”

  Now his audience looked downright shocked. “You can all stop gawking now,”he said, smiling. “It’s true. I have made a mess. And I’m quite sure that more than a few of you have whispered as much behind my back. The truth is, I’ve been wasting so much of our time pining for Gaia’s love and affection when in fact, all we ever really needed…was her blood. So, from this point on, I assure you, blood is the only thing we are out for.”

  The silence in the room was deafening. His unusual degree of bluntness had apparently left them all speechless. “The logic couldn’t be simpler, really,” he explained. “When one makes a mess, the only solution is to clean it up, and that is why, as of 9 P.M. this evening, Operation Clean Slate will commence. We have finally found success with phobosan II, but the road to that success has been littered with witnesses and enemies, and that simply won’t do. All of them will need to be cleaned out within the next forty-eight hours. That is our deadline. Once the last of the mess has been wiped up, we’ll be leaving this filthy city for quite some time and moving on to far greater things. Now, thankfully, some
of the mess has already been taken care of—George Niven, Josh Kendall—”

  “What?” QR1 blurted, shooting up from his flimsy folding chair. “What are you talking about? What did you do to Josh?”

  Loki turned to QR1 and locked eyes with him. He had no time for attitude. “I just told you what happened,” he explained calmly, staring QR1 into submission. “Your ‘brother,’ Mr. Kendall, has been cleaned. He attempted to betray me, not to mention everyone else who has worked so hard on the serum. If he had succeeded in administering the counteragent to our first test subject, Ms. Gannis, we might never have completed the testing of phobosan I. His betrayal left me with no choice but to terminate. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Silence filled the dimly lit room again. The one stark bulb suddenly seemed to cast an interrogation like light on QR1 as Loki watched this carbon copy of a young man have a most unexpectedly emotional reaction to Josh’s death. There seemed to be a genuine sense of loss in his usually inhuman neon blue eyes. Loss, and sadness, and even a tinge of deep resentment as he and Loki stayed locked in a visual showdown.

  Loki was of course being facetious when he referred to Josh as QR1’s ‘brother .’ A clone couldn’t truly have a brother. How could he have a brother if he didn’t even have a mother? This was what made QR1’s reaction all the more curious. But now was not the time for curious . There would be plenty of time for curious once this operation was complete.

  “I just don’t see…,” QR1 began. “I don’t see why you had to kill—”

  “Before you answer,” Loki interrupted coldly, “I suggest you take a look at QR2 and try to emulate his behavior.” QR2 was still sitting quietly in his chair, indicating no emotion whatsoever. “Is that clear? Now, are you going to sit down…or are you going to add to the mess?”

  Loki reached inside his coat and wrapped his hand tightly around the handle of his nine-millimeter automatic, hoping to speed up QR1’s reply by simplifying his options. But there was no need to even remove the gun from its holster.