The Fifth Room

by A J Rushby

  ‘I don’t care. I don’t. I’ll never let them touch me. Never.’

  ‘Miri.’ Steen gives me a look.

  ‘If you won’t do it, I’ll just leave it. I’ll tape it closed. I don’t care.’

  Steen watches me.

  ‘I will. You know I will.’

  He laughs at this. ‘Yeah, I don’t doubt it.’ He comes down to crouch beside the bed, his expression concerned. ‘Are you sure? You know it won’t be as perfect.’

  ‘Yes, I understand my knee modelling days will be over. Now go and get everything you need. And before you leave, if you can pass me something to vomit in, that would be great.’

  Steen goes into the lab and grabs a stainless steel kidney dish, which he brings over and rests on my chest. Then he bends down and kisses me on the forehead, moving back up again to stroke some tendrils of hair from my face. ‘When they told me … when I found out you’d run, you’d already been gone for some time. You don’t know how worried I was. You didn’t have your drugs. Anything could have happened to you out there.’

  I look deep into his eyes. ‘I know. It wasn’t meant to happen that way. I was hoping to just break into the medical and support staff area, use the phone and come back. But it didn’t work out …’

  He bends down again to kiss me on the lips this time, hesitating as he gets closer to see if that’s all right. If I’m okay with it. ‘Hold that thought,’ he says. ‘I’ll go and get everything we need and be right back and we can talk some more.’

  I catch the front of his shirt as he pulls away, not wanting him to go. Not wanting anyone else to come in. I see then that he’s not wearing green scrubs. He’s not wearing any scrubs—he’s wearing his own clothes.

  ‘It’s okay.’ His gaze meets mine. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’

  ‘No one else comes in here,’ I say, starting to shake with the thought of it. Obviously I’m more messed up than I know.

  ‘No one else,’ Steen says, his eyes not moving from mine. ‘I promise you.’

  I can see he means it and so I let him go.

  And then I close my eyes and drift off to sleep again.

  EIGHTEEN HOURS POST-EXPERIMENTATION

  I’m not sure how long it takes before Steen arrives back, because I drift in and out of sleep, my eyes opening and closing. I keep thinking I’m supposed to be running, then fall asleep again, remembering I’m safe and my body’s need for rest is kicking in.

  ‘Here we are.’ I wake again to see Steen standing over me, a metal trolley by his side and a stool. ‘I’ve got everything you need. Including some lovely painkillers for your head.’

  I don’t lose any time pushing myself up for this. ‘Lots, I hope.’

  ‘Pace yourself.’ Steen passes me two tablets and a small cup of water and then settles himself onto the stool and begins to open packages. ‘Do you remember what you cut your knee on?’

  I think back through the fog. A hedge? No, that was my neck. Oh, yes, that’s right … ‘It was on top of the bunker. Something metallic. I remember feeling it with my hand.’

  Steen’s eyebrows rise as he looks at me. ‘Well then, it’s your lucky day, because you get a tetanus shot as well.’

  I sigh. ‘Awesome. I was hoping for one of those.’ I take the painkillers, hand him the cup and lie back down. ‘Give me the local in my knee first, then the tetanus shot.’

  ‘Hang on, I thought you were the patient.’

  ‘I never said I was a good patient.’

  ‘Ready for the local?’ he says, before we both chime in with …

  ‘This will sting a bit.’

  As promised, it stings.

  ‘Now, while we wait for the local to kick in, I’ll jab you with something else, shall I?’ Steen grins, wheeling his stool over, closer to my arm. ‘Ready?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tough. Because I’m not having you get lockjaw. It’s so last century.’

  I feel a second sting as the needle enters my arm. ‘You don’t have to enjoy it so much,’ I reply, but my voice wobbles as a wave of emotion kicks in and, suddenly, I’m crying, tears sliding out of the corners of my eyes. It takes Steen a second or two to notice.

  ‘Hey, hey! What’s the matter?’ He withdraws the needle and turns to place it on top of the trolley. He brings his stool closer again towards the bed.

  ‘I don’t know. Everything. Nothing,’ I gulp. ‘You’re not angry with me. I so thought you’d be angry with me. That I didn’t tell you. But I knew you couldn’t come and I had to do something.’ I turn my head to look over to the other side of the room.

  But Steen only reaches out and turns my chin back again with his hand. ‘I’m not angry with you. I’m just glad you’re okay. Really. I only wish you hadn’t run off on your own.’

  ‘You couldn’t go. One of us had to do something. And we’ve established I’m good at running, right?’ I smile weakly.

  ‘Very funny.’ Steen gives me a look.

  Unbidden, the tears start again then, seriously, my whole body feels like it belongs to someone else. Like I can’t control it. I’m a marionette puppet again, just like when I was little, but now it’s the Society pulling my strings. I remember something else. ‘I totally forgot to ask how you are after your surgery. I’m sorry, I just … I can’t seem to put everything in the right order in my head.’

  Steen strokes the hair back from my forehead. ‘With a lump like that I’m surprised you can remember your own name, to be honest. But I’m fine, thanks. I won’t deny there’s still a bit of pain, but I feel a whole lot better than I did carrying around a dead appendix. And a whole lot better again now you’re back here. That’s all that matters to me. That you’re back here and that you’re okay.’

  I wipe my eyes with one hand. I still don’t understand what’s going on. ‘But am I? Are we? Okay here?’

  Steen nods. ‘Yes. Now let’s get started on that knee.’ He turns away from me and busies himself with the trolley.

  He spends a long time cleaning out the wound and I find myself dozing again, waking to find him suturing.

  ‘I know you’re avoiding telling me everything,’ I finally say, staring at the ceiling.

  Steen doesn’t reply.

  After Steen finishes with my knee and cleans up my neck and head, I doze on and off again. I’ve lost all track of day and night.

  The next time my eyes open, Steen isn’t in the room. Just as I begin to panic, he enters through the lab door, carrying a tray.

  ‘Breakfast,’ he says, entering my bedroom. ‘Think you’re up for it? You missed dinner last night. You really need to eat something.’

  I realise how hungry I am. I don’t feel nauseated any more either. I push myself up onto my elbows and then sit up. Nothing spins. I can’t say I feel one hundred per cent, but the room remains the right way up and my head isn’t throbbing like before. ‘What have you got?’

  Steen puts the tray down on the end of the bed. ‘Looks like you’re starting to feel better. We’ve got granola. Yoghurt. An apple. Some toast.’

  ‘All of that sounds great.’ I’m not joking, either.

  After breakfast, Steen puts a stool in the shower and I’m able to sit in there and wash, a waterproof dressing on my knee. When I get out, I don’t want to put on scrubs again, so I dig out my remaining clothes and put those on. Then I comb out my hair and twist it into a top knot. I even manage to stand up for long enough to brush my teeth.

  When I’m finally done and sitting on my bed again, staring at the wall and thinking, Steen reappears. I look up at him. ‘I feel almost human again.’

  His expression doesn’t change. He looks serious.

  ‘Good, because Marcus wants to see you. He’ll come here, if it’s okay.’

  ‘All right.’ It has to happen sooner or later.

  Steen sort of hovers.

  ‘He’s waiting outside, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, send him in then.’

  TWENTY-SEVEN HOURS POS
T-EXPERIMENTATION

  Steen leaves and I have a few moments to prepare myself before Marcus enters. He walks through the lab and pauses at my bedroom door. He can barely meet my eyes.

  ‘Come in,’ I say, even though I don’t want him to. I gesture towards the stool that Steen had sat on to suture my knee up.

  Marcus enters, picking up the stool and bringing it slightly closer to my bed, where I’m sitting. He has that dishevelled look about him again, which is hardly surprising given the last few days—his shirt is creased, like he’s slept in it, which he very well might have done.

  ‘So.’ He looks me over. ‘How are you feeling?’

  He seems incredibly uncomfortable, shifting this way and that and, watching him, I begin to remember snatches of conversation I overheard when I was on the roof of the bunker. The fact that he truly didn’t know about Ryan. That he thought I should have agreed to experiment on him. The President’s voice telling him to return downstairs.

  ‘I’m feeling a lot better than I did yesterday,’ I finally reply.

  ‘We … I … certainly didn’t expect you to run off like that.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to offer us another student’s body to experiment on.’

  There’s a long pause. ‘No,’ he finally says. ‘I have to apologise. I was meant to be completely impartial. I failed in my …’

  I hold up a hand. I don’t want to hear his stupid apology.

  Neither of us speaks for some time. ‘So, I guess my experiment is over.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a shame about that. If you’d like to return at another point and …’

  I cut him off. ‘You must be joking.’

  ‘Miri, you don’t know the entire story yet.’

  ‘So tell me then!’ I raise my voice. I think about Steen’s cryptic comments. ‘Why is everyone keeping things from me?’

  Marcus stands now, looking like he can’t wait to leave. ‘Because we need to keep an eye on that head of yours.’

  I snort. ‘I can’t work out if it hurts because I fell in the boatshed, or if it’s from the time Lauren slammed it against one of the bunker walls.’

  Marcus colours. ‘I saw that. After. It seems we missed a lot of things. I … you … we were all led astray.’

  There’s something in his voice. ‘We were led astray? What do you mean?’

  ‘One of the neurologists will stop by soon. If he gives you the all-clear, we’ll gather everyone for a meeting this afternoon.’

  ‘I’d rather just go home now,’ I say sourly.

  ‘The neurologist is coming whether you like it or not.’

  ‘I guess I’ll look forward to his visit then.’

  While I’m waiting for the neurologist, I read for a while, chat to Steen and doze on and off. I’m picking at some sort of baked mushroom and chicken thing for lunch when Steen puts his fork down on his plate and sticks it on top of my bedside table.

  ‘So …’ He looks over at me and, feeling the shift in the conversation, I look up slowly from my meal.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Where are you going to from here? Are you going back to England?’ Finally we’re coming around to the subject we’ve been avoiding—what happens next.

  ‘I hadn’t really thought that far,’ I answer him. ‘I expected the Society had already arranged a large hole to be dug outside for my benefit and that they would bury me alive.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Steen gives me a wry look. ‘You know what I mean.’

  I bring my eyes up to meet his.

  ‘Will you come back?’ he asks me.

  ‘Do you want me to?’

  He looks at me with a steady gaze, but doesn’t answer.

  We sit for what feels like close to forever this way. Staring at each other. Trying to gauge what the other is thinking. Feeling. I know it’s me who has to answer. That he’ll hold out until I do. He’s not going to say anything at all until I give him my decision.

  ‘Yes,’ I finally say. I can’t even remember the question now. Recall if it’s the right response. But I know Steen will understand what I mean. ‘Yes.’

  His face lights up with relief.

  I can’t help but smile in return. ‘I wish I’d never left. I’m done with the Society. I’m out.’

  There’s a loud buzz, alerting us to the fact that someone’s at the lab door.

  Finally, the neurologist is here.

  The neurologist does a full examination, tells me everything seems fine, and leaves.

  Ten minutes later, the phone rings and Steen picks it up. When he replaces the receiver, his eyes move to meet mine. ‘That was Marcus. The meeting’s in half an hour,’ he says. ‘At three.’

  ‘Am I going to like what I’m about to hear?’ I ask, watching him carefully, trying to pick up any little sign that might give me a clue as to what’s been going on.

  ‘No.’ He gives me a solid answer. But then he shakes his head. ‘Look, it’s …’ He stops himself.

  ‘Why can’t you just tell me?’

  ‘Because you wouldn’t believe me if I did. Trust me, this is something you need to see for yourself.’

  FORTY-NINE HOURS POST-EXPERIMENTATION

  At three, Steen and I leave the safety of my bedroom and cross my lab. When I hesitate at the door, he reaches back and silently takes my hand. The door swishes open and we cross the threshold together.

  Maybe I’ve hidden out in my room too long, but I feel queasy as soon as I put a foot in the hallway. Steen moves forward, and I hold back, our two arms stretched out over the wide gap between us.

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ he tells me, but he has that look about him again. That worn down, defeated look I’d also seen on Marcus’s face.

  I let him lead me up the corridor and we turn left. We don’t go into the meals and recreation area but continue along the corridor. The door to the medical and support staff area is open and that’s where we’re headed. I stop, my mind flooding with remembrances of the last time I was here, breaking in. The adrenalin. The fear. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but it doesn’t work. I wonder how long it will take before I’m able to leave behind the feeling of being chased. Hunted. How long it will be before I stop waking up every half hour in the middle of the night.

  ‘You okay?’ Steen says.

  I nod, squeezing his hand tight. Whatever this is, I need to hear it. I need to get it over and done with so we can leave this place—and the Society—forever.

  We pass through the door and turn to the right, where I’d hidden and listened to the voices as they watched TV. Before we round the corner, however, Marcus appears. ‘Ah, there you are. Just in here.’ He gestures to an open door.

  I can feel my hands shaking now, but I follow the two of them into the room anyway.

  Inside there’s a long table and, up the front, a large TV mounted on the wall. There are no medical or support staff present, but Andrew and Lauren are already there, seated on the opposite side of the table. Lauren gives me a cold, hard look but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even nod at me. Andrew has his hands on the desk and doesn’t look up as we enter.

  Marcus leads us over to the seats opposite Andrew and Lauren, pulling them out for us.

  Marcus doesn’t sit, but walks around to the front of the oval table, speaking as he goes. ‘Miri, as you know, you were asked to experiment and travelled to Vienna to meet your group and go through your paperwork and so on.’

  ‘Yes,’ I say slowly.

  ‘And you remember quite clearly our trip to the café there, our dinner at the hotel and so on?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And the boardroom. You remember being in the boardroom and doing some paperwork?’

  ‘Ye …’ I trail off. I do remember the boardroom. What it looked like. Where I sat. But something’s not right. It’s like I don’t remember it properly. Not in detail. I think for a moment. ‘I remember it seemed to take a long time. And then I was sick. I had a headache. And I woke up in bed.’ I hadn
’t really questioned it at the time, but the more I think about it, the more this seems … off. The timing strange and ambiguous. I look up at Marcus, suddenly on high alert. ‘Why? What’s this about?’

  ‘Just show her,’ Lauren pipes up, making us all turn to look at her.

  ‘Show me what?’ I look from Lauren to Marcus.

  He moves a step or two closer towards me. ‘That day, in the boardroom in Vienna, there was a reason you felt the paperwork took too long. It was because, while you were there, something happened that you’ve forgotten. That you opted to forget.’

  Steen snorts at this.

  ‘What?’ I sit up in my seat. ‘What did I forget?’

  Steen looks up at Marcus. ‘Quit drawing it out. This isn’t an episode of The Bachelor.’

  ‘All right.’ Marcus nods, squaring his shoulders. He turns and switches the TV on and presses a button or two on the remote he’s holding. A picture comes up on the screen—a picture of us in the boardroom in Vienna. No, it’s not a picture, I see. It’s a recording, paused.

  I hadn’t known they were recording us. It doesn’t surprise me that they were—I just hadn’t thought about it until now. ‘Okay,’ I say to Marcus, letting him know I’m ready.

  He presses another button and the recording begins.

  I’m not taken aback by what I see. We’re there, we’re working through our paperwork. I remember all of this. It’s not very exciting. In fact, it’s not exciting at all. I glance over at Steen, beside me, who nods towards the screen. I need to keep watching.

  So I keep watching.

  For the next thirty seconds or so, we continue along with our paperwork, Marcus walking around the table, pointing out this and that, answering our questions.

  I watch as he moves to the head of the room. ‘If you could all pause there,’ he says. ‘And put your pens down for a moment.’

  Confused, everyone in the Vienna boardroom does as they’re told.

  ‘I have something to discuss with you.’ Marcus clasps his hands together. ‘An offer to make you, in fact. An offer that hasn’t been made to any of our members before in any of our groups—youth, mid-career or established.’