by R. D. Brady
“Did he ever talk back?”
Maeve shook her head with a smile. “No. But you can always tell when he understands. And he always listened.”
“But weren’t you lonely?”
“I was okay for the most part. Mom made sure I did normal kid things—soccer teams, art classes, swimming lessons—I had other friends. And for about five years there was one other kid in school with me. She was the daughter of one of the military officers. She had a skin condition, so she couldn’t go out in the sunlight. We became good friends. She’s over in California now, but we still talk.”
“I can’t believe they let you do that.”
“I can’t either. But Alvie’s important to a lot of people in different ways than to me and my mom. But the goal of my mom’s research and mine is to see what Alvie can do, how he reacts. Introducing me was a reasonable approach. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for a normal childhood.” She paused. “But that’s why I know something is wrong. I know him better than anyone, scientist or not. Something is wrong with him. He’s in trouble. And I can’t help him. And I need to find a way to help him before—” She went quiet.
“Before they try to take him away from you.”
Maeve looked away, nodding her head, and Chris saw the tremble in her chin.
Chris looked away too, tightening his fists. He wanted more than anything to help her. And to help Alvie. He’d seen him looking depressed over the last few months and he’d begun to worry about the little guy.
But what she was asking him to do …
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t. But let me help you stay with him.” He held out his hand. “Give me John’s ID.”
Maeve stared up at him, looking as if her heart was breaking. And it killed him to tell her no. But she needed to understand that this approach was only going to cause her problems.
Slowly, she pulled out the ID and placed it in his palm. Chris curled his finger over her hand. “We’ll figure out a way to help him.”
Maeve just shook her head.
Chris opened his mouth to respond, but his cell phone beeped twice.
Annoyed, Chris pulled his phone off his waist. Code 542. He went still.
“Chris?” Maeve asked.
“We need to go.” He grabbed her hand and started to run back to the lab.
Maeve matched his stride. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a Code 542.”
“I’ve never heard of that before.”
“That’s because it’s never happened to you before.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, knowing his next words were going to terrify her. “They’re moving Alvie.”
Maeve stumbled. “What?” Chris reached out a hand to steady her. But she shook him off, increasing her pace. “Where are they moving him?”
“Somewhere off the base.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
They’re moving Alvie off the base. The words tumbled through Maeve’s mind as she sprinted down the hall. Men and women in Air Force uniforms strode by, boxes in their arms, some pushing dollies. The sight of them terrified her. For years, it had only been a handful of people who had access to this part of the building. And none of them were these people. Oh god, Alvie, Maeve thought, her heart pounding.
Chris had left her at the front door to return John’s ID, and Maeve had barely glanced at him, her first attempt at theft completely forgotten at the terror of Alvie being moved.
She tore around a corner and just missed plowing into a young officer. He glared at her, but Maeve didn’t apologize. In front of her door, two armed guards stood. But instead of barring her way, they nodded at her as she approached. She yanked her lanyard off and swung it at the keypad as she reached the lab.
Greta whirled around from her position by Maeve’s console, her face pale, her hands clutched together. “Thank God.”
Maeve strode across the room, glancing into Alvie’s room. He sat on his bed, following her movements. She forced herself to focus on the problem at hand and provide a calm exterior. “What’s going on?”
Greta shook her head. “I don’t know. They said we need to get Alvie ready for transport.”
Maeve felt lightheaded. Did they know about his episodes? Or about her taking John’s ID? Had she somehow caused this? “Transport? What about us?”
“We’re supposed to be getting ready for transport as well.”
Oh, thank God. “Where?”
“They won’t tell us.”
“How the hell can they not tell us?” Maeve was worried about where they were going. But honestly, as long as she was going with him, she didn’t care. She could not, she would not leave Alvie alone. “When will they be here?”
Greta looked more frazzled than Maeve had ever seen her. “I don’t know—any minute. There only seem to be a few buildings that are being evacuated.”
Maeve felt a stirring of hope take root. “Wait. We’re not the only ones?”
Greta shook her head. “No.”
Maeve let out a shaky breath, her mind churning. Okay, we’re not the only ones. It must be the new agency. There must be other projects that fall under its umbrella, which means I just need to act like everything’s fine and make sure they realize I am the only one qualified to look after Alvie.
Behind the glass, Alvie paced anxiously. She met his eyes and could feel his fear. She turned to Greta. “Get the sedative ready. I’ll go talk to him.”
Greta gave her a nod before disappearing out of the lab.
Taking a breath, Maeve pushed open the door. Alvie flew across the room. Maeve knelt down and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s all right. It’s okay.” She ran her hand over his back in circles, feeling him calm. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be with you.”
But even as she said it, she wasn’t sure how long her words would hold true.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Maeve managed to get Alvie calmed down and administered the sedative. She sat by his bedside holding his hand as he drifted off. She checked his pulse and his oxygen output. He was good.
She adjusted the blanket over him. He tended to get cold easily. Where are they taking you?
“Maeve, I need you out here,” Greta called over the speaker.
Maeve looked through the glass. Eight uniforms were now in the room, and with some relief she saw Chris was one of them. With one last look at Alvie, she opened the door and stepped out, letting it shut behind her. “He’s out. Now where are we going?”
“That’s classified.” The name Rivera was typed across his black uniform and Maeve had never seen him before. Nor had she seen the uniform. Who the hell were these guys?
Maeve frowned, looking between Rivera and Chris. “But aren’t I going with him?”
“That is still being determined,” Rivera said.
“Still being determined? Alvie is my subject. I have been with him for years.” She took a deep breath, reminding herself to calm down. “Who is making that determination?”
“Central Command. You will be reprocessed, and if you are cleared you will be allowed to accompany the subject.”
Maeve had to practically bite her tongue off to keep from yelling at the cold man in front of her. They couldn’t just send Alvie off to God knew where and inform her she might be allowed to accompany him. But a warning glance from Chris helped her swallow down her complaints. “Okay. Well, we’ll get Alvie on a stretcher and—”
“We’ll take care of his transport,” Rivera said.
Only then did Maeve notice the box that resembled a coffin in the back of the room. They pushed the box forward. Inside was a smaller stretcher with chains attached to the sides.
Maeve shook her head. “Restraints aren’t necessary. Alvie’s—”
“Not human and not to be trusted,” Rivera said. “He will be restrained. I will not have this evacuation compromised. Do you have a problem with that, doctor?”
Maeve’s mouth fell open, but before she could respond Chris stepped for
ward. “Sir, I am familiar with the subject. I’ll restrain him.”
Rivera gave a nod. “Good. Doctors, you have fifteen minutes to grab what you need or we leave without you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wright-Patt whirled by Maeve as she sat in the back of an Air Force Jeep with Greta next to her.
“It will be all right,” Greta said.
But Maeve wasn’t sure about that. They hadn’t let her accompany Alvie. And they had put him in box—a box. “What happens if he wakes up during transport? He’ll be terrified.”
Greta patted her hand, keeping her voice low and nudging her chin toward the driver, a reminder they weren’t alone. “Don’t focus on that. It’s out of your hands, and if you complain too much, you could be removed too. Let’s wait until we know what’s going on and see what’s really worth making a stink about.”
Maeve knew Greta was right, but Alvie had looked so tiny in that box, and so still. And Maeve couldn’t shake the thought that it looked an awful lot like a coffin. At least Chris had been the one to place the restraints on him. He had been extremely gentle. But he was another issue—would he still be assigned to work with Alvie? She hadn’t had a chance to ask him.
The Jeep pulled onto the runway rolling past a military transport plane. The plane’s engines had already started. On the other runway, another military cargo jet stood, also idling. Coffins similar to Alvie’s were being loaded on.
Her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open. Who the hell was in those? Why are they doing all this out in the open? Secrecy had been drilled into them from day one. What the hell had happened?
Greta nudged her shoulder as they pulled to a stop at a hangar. They stepped out of the Jeep and a soldier gestured for them to head to the back of the hangar where a group of about a dozen people stood.
Maeve realized that she recognized almost all of them. A dark-haired man turned, surprise flashing across his face. “Maeve,” Greg said.
“Hey,” Maeve said, scanning the rest of the occupants. Some she’d seen on the bus. And she knew some were from other shifts.
Why are we all together?
A tall woman in her early thirties in the same black uniform Rivera had worn strode out from the office, twelve officers following in her wake and lining up next to her in front of the group.
“Attention. Your projects have just been re-classified. Your work on them is under review and your continuation on the project will need to be re-evaluated. If you are cleared for the project, you will be transported to your project’s new location.”
Maeve felt her disbelief growing, and her fear. What if she didn’t pass?
“Where’s that?” someone called out.
The woman glared. “You will be informed of the location after your clearance has been vetted.”
A tall gray-haired man raised his hand. “I’ve already been vetted.”
“New requirements have been put in place. You will need above top-secret clearance to work on these projects. You will need to meet these new requirements to be allowed to continue your work. Your clearance has already been in process for the last few months.”
Maeve’s mouth dropped open. New requirements? She knew security clearances took months to come through. But if these clearances had been already going on, they had been done without her knowledge. Without any of our knowledge, she thought as she saw the mixtures of anger and surprise flashing across everyone’s face surrounding her. What the hell?
Greta took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be all right.”
Maeve nodded, feeling numb, her mind focused on what would happen if she somehow didn’t pass. She’d had security clearance of one kind or another since she was a kid. She wouldn’t have a problem, would she?
Maeve swallowed. And what happens to Alvie if I do?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Maeve spent the next three hours being processed in the hangar. She tried to keep her impatience and worry buried, but apparently she wasn’t doing a good job.
“Is something wrong, Dr. Leander?”
“Hm, what?” Maeve asked, turning her attention back to the unsmiling man in front of her. He hadn’t introduced himself when he’d called her name, just indicated that she should follow him. She’d followed him to a card table with two folding chairs on opposite ends and a laptop on top. He’d gestured for her to take a seat and the questioning began in earnest.
“I said, is something wrong?”
Maeve shook her head. “No, just concerned about the condition of my research subject. Any kind of trip can be very taxing.”
The plane they had seen when they first arrived at the hangar had taken off almost two hours ago, and Maeve’s nails had now dug crescent-shaped moons into her palms. Alvie had never been without her or her mom or even out of his building.
The man curled his lip. Throughout the process he had made no attempt to hide his dislike of her research. “I’m sure the subject’s fine.”
And that was the other problem. The guards that had come to take Alvie, this processing guy—that was nine people who now knew about Alvie. He’d been a well-kept secret for years. Why the hell were all these people now being allowed to know of his existence?
But Maeve said nothing about her concerns. Instead, she nodded, keeping her tone even. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But I’ve put a lot of time into his care. It’s difficult to entrust my work to someone else.”
“Yes, well, we’re almost done.”
Maeve had decided as soon as she saw the people doing the processing that she needed to present an emotional distance from Alvie. She was pretty sure if she acted like she actually cared for him, it would mean that she was automatically declined clearance.
But despite her outward attempts at presenting a detached persona, inside she was shaking with fear. Alvie was a sensitive soul. He was used to kindness and he responded to it. None of the people she had seen so far indicated any sort of kindness.
The man in front of her hit a few more buttons on his keyboard. “Okay, Dr. Leander, you’ve been cleared. Now there is one final step.” He handed her a document thick with pages. “You will need to sign these.”
Maeve glanced at the first few pages and immediately knew what it was—a release. If she signed it, she was saying she would never speak about her work, would never sue the government if she was ever injured during the course of her work, and that should she in any way, shape, or form mention her work to anyone outside the accepted lines of secrecy, she would be incarcerated for twenty-five years to life without a trial.
Hand shaking, she signed. Part of her told her not to, that it was too big a risk without even knowing where they were sending her. But the other part knew that it didn’t matter where they went; she needed to protect Alvie. And she knew signing away her constitutional rights was the only way she was going to be able to do that.
Maeve pushed the papers back across the table. The processor accepted them and handed Maeve a badge. “Keep this with you at all times.”
Maeve took the badge as she stood. “Thank you.”
“The plane will be leaving in a few minutes. Head out the back door of the hangar and wait with the rest of the group.”
Maeve nodded and tried to keep from sprinting to the door she’d seen a few other people disappear through. And she knew she was one of the lucky ones. Eight people had failed the new clearance requirements. Greta had been taken to a different area, so Maeve wasn’t sure whether or not she had passed.
Maeve slipped out the door the processor had indicated. Three people were waiting, and four guards were with them. As soon as she joined them, the guard waved them toward the waiting plane. She climbed the tall metal staircase and ducked under the door and into the cabin.
Greg looked up from the second row. He indicated the seat next to him, but Maeve shook her head. If she sat next to him, the impulse to talk would be overwhelming. And she couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t chance anyone pulling her
away from Alvie. “I’m going to sleep.”
Greg stifled a yawn. “You and me both, sister.”
Maeve gave him a smile, but it slipped from her face as soon as she passed him. She made her way to the back of the plane and took a seat in an empty row. She pulled her headphones out and quickly put them on, turning on some music. She stared out the windows. From her vantage point she could see they were loading another plane. More coffins were dropped and wheeled into the large cargo plane.
Her hands began to shake and she clasped them together. Hold on, Alvie. I’m coming.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maeve felt the pressure in her chest first. It was dark, pitch black. She opened her eyes but she couldn't see. Terror tore through her. I'm blind. She tried to reach up for her eyes but she couldn't seem to make them move. Her heart was racing already so the realization didn't cause it to speed up. In fact, she didn't think it could speed up. It felt sluggish, like it was struggling for each breath.
She squirmed. What is going on?
"Sh, sh, it's all right." A familiar voice whispered. Mom? She thought as she felt a warm presence next to her. She was pulled in tight to something and then she began to rock. And despite her fear, she found comfort in the movements, the familiarity in the voice.
"It's all right. It will be all right, Ben."
Maeve frowned. Ben? Who's Ben?
Maeve's eyes flew open and she jolted upright, her chest heaving at the unfamiliar surroundings. I'm in a plane. Why am I—
And then it all came back to her—the move, the new clearance and all her fear for Alvie. The lights came on in the cabin as she heard the wheels lower for landing.
She sat upright and wiped her eyes, lifting the window shade next to her. Bright sunlight glared in at her making her blink. A glance at her watch confirmed that they’d been travelling for five hours, which made it the middle of her night. But according to this sun, it was late morning for wherever she was.
