by R. D. Brady
“Can’t we just share an elevator?” Greg asked.
Leslie shook her head. “No. We’re going to different floors.”
“And they want to make sure I don’t learn all about your evil project.” Greg cackled, rubbing his hands together.
Leslie frowned. “You really need to stop talking that way. Here, it could really get you in trouble.”
The smile dropped from Greg’s face. “I’m just joking.”
Leslie’s face softened. “I know that. But not everyone appreciates your unique sense of humor.”
Greg placed a hand on his chin as if mulling over her words. “It’s true—I am an acquired taste.”
The elevator door slid open and Leslie none too gently shoved Greg in. “Oh, enough.”
Maeve laughed as Greg waved at her. “See you later.”
“Later,” Maeve said as their doors slid shut and the other car’s doors slid open. Maeve stepped into the car next to Chris and as soon as the doors closed, turned to him. “Have you seen him?”
“No. But there’s a lot going on right now.”
“When did he get here?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t part of his transfer. The planes with the research subjects were pulled into hangars and unloaded inside. Then they were transferred through underground tunnels to this building and one other building.”
Underground tunnels? Maeve felt a chill crawl over her skin. And for the first time, she realized they were heading down and not up. What had she and Alvie gotten into?
“What were in those other crates, Chris?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes were troubled. “You need to be prepared for some changes.”
“Changes? Like what?” She glanced at the keypad again. “Where are they keeping him?”
“Five floors down.”
A few seconds later, Maeve stepped off the elevator behind Chris. The hallway was a gray-blue color with bright lights, but there was an antiseptic smell to the place. Don’t prejudge. It could be—she looked around the dark hallway—fine.
They passed two doors on the way down the hall. One read 'STOCKROOM' and the other read 'LOUNGE'. From down the hall, Maeve heard a wail, and her heart plunged.
Alvie.
She ran to the last door on the right, Chris right behind her. He flashed his badge at the door. It stayed red.
Maeve clenched her fists. “Come on,” she said as Alvie wailed from inside.
Chris flashed his card over the screen again. The light above the door bloomed green with a buzz. Chris pushed the door open.
Maeve hurried in and then went still, her hand to her mouth.
No.
Chapter Thirty
The room was dim, with a jail cell to the left with glass walls and air holes taking up half the space. Alvie’s container had been placed inside the cell, and no one had bothered to let him out. Alvie’s cries could be heard through the covering. Maeve sprinted across the room. The door was locked. She flashed her badge and the door sprung open.
She ran to the container with Chris right behind her.
“We’re here, Alvie. We’re here,” she said, struggling with the locks. Tears sprang to her eyes as she met Alvie’s gaze through the window in the coffin. He looked terrified.
“That’s the last one,” Chris said, pulling open the lid.
Maeve reached in and stroked Alvie’s head. She wiped away one of his tears and then leaned her forehead to his. “I’m sorry, Alvie. I’m so sorry.”
She unwrapped one of his wrists while Chris undid the restraints from his legs. Maeve removed the last restraint and Alvie leapt from the coffin and into Maeve’s arms. Maeve let out a breath, struggling to keep her tears back as Alvie trembled.
She snuggled him to her as she leaned back against the glass wall. Sliding down, she sat on the ground, her head resting on Alvie’s. She rubbed his back in a circle. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s okay.”
But Alvie continued to shake. And Maeve didn’t know how to comfort him. Because she had a feeling that she was lying and nothing was going to be okay again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Maeve wasn’t sure how long she stayed on the cold floor with Alvie wrapped in her arms. Her butt had grown numb and her arms had grown tired, but she couldn’t let him go. She and Alvie might have been born within year of each other, but he’d matured much slower. Her mother believed that meant his lifespan would be extremely long. It also meant that right now, he was a terrified child.
She leaned her head down so it rested on top of Alvie’s. “It’s all right, Alvie. It will be all right.” She’d been repeating the same phrase over and over, hoping that at least one of them would believe it.
The door beeped and with a rush of air, Chris walked in. He’d been on the other side of the glass the whole time, giving the two of them some privacy. Now, he knelt down next to her. “How is he?”
Maeve didn’t miss the concern on his face. “He’s a little better. How could they do this to him?”
Chris shook his head, gently rubbing the back of Alvie’s head. “They don’t know him like you do, like I do. They only see an alien.”
Maeve knew he was right. But how could you spend that much money on watching Alvie and not read any of the reports? Watch any of the tapes? He obviously wasn’t a threat.
“Listen, there’s a new chain of command. Each building has a commander.”
“Okay.”
“This building’s commander is Regina West. She is career military—mom, dad, brothers, grandfathers. All were in the military. She will not understand about Alvie. And if you want to keep working with him—”
Maeve eyes flew to Chris’s face. “If?”
Chris nodded. “Yes. She makes the final decision. You have to be clinical, no emotion.”
Maeve closed her eyes, holding Alvie close. An image of his old room wafted through her brain. She hugged him tight. “I know. I miss it too,” she said softly.
“Maeve?” Chris asked.
She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Professional, detached, unemotional. I’ve got it.”
But that could wait. Today, she’d make sure Alvie was okay, and tomorrow she’d worry about being a scientific automaton without feelings.
Chris touched her shoulder. “Good, because she’s coming. She’ll be here in five minutes.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Regina West strode down the hall wanting a shower. The last alien species she'd seen could actually change from solid to liquid at will. Why the hell are we keeping these things alive? The whole project made her skin crawl. So far, she’d seen aliens that made the Hollywood version look like fluffy bunnies.
Each new species she observed reinforced the importance of her job. They needed to know these creatures’ weaknesses. They needed to know what they were capable of.
And most importantly, as far as she was concerned, was she needed to know how to control them or kill them.
She paused at the end of Hallway 5C. She held out her hand. “Tell me.”
Her lieutenant, Mitch Roberts, handed her a tablet. “This one is the first of the experiments. He was created twenty-seven years ago.”
Regina raised her eyebrows. “And he’s still alive?”
Mitch nodded. “He’s unlike the others. There have been no signs of aggression from him at all. In fact, the researchers interact with him without guards or any form of restraints.”
Regina quickly scanned the file. In grade school, she’d learned how to speed-read. She’d honed that skill over the course of her life and it gave her an edge over her colleagues. But halfway through the second page she stopped reading, her eyes growing wide. “She brought her child in to play with the thing?”
Mitch nodded. “Yes, the previous Dr. Leander was worried about the being’s mental state. It was deteriorating at a rapid rate. She was worried they would lose him. She thought perhaps the being was lonely.”
“Lonely? Are you kidd
ing?”
“No, ma’am. While it was an unorthodox approach, the introduction of her daughter did work. The being began to thrive. In fact, it opened a whole new avenue of further research. It demonstrated the being’s emotional capacity as well as its communication skills.”
“It communicates?”
“Yes. It can’t speak, but it can read and write. And it also uses some form of emotional telepathy.”
Interesting and terrifying. None of the other subjects had demonstrated any sort of communication abilities—although she had to admit a few of them seemed to be able to communicate hate pretty well.
West finished reading the rest of the file. The second Dr. Leander was impressive. She finished college in only three years and completed her doctorate four years later. Then she’d begun work with the subject and taken over when her mother had become ill; her status became official after her mother’s death. Which meant the doctor had a long-term relationship with the subject, which could be problematic. If Dr. Leander had grown attached to the being, well, that just wasn’t going to work.
But this one subject seemed to provide a wealth of information compared to the others.
I suppose that’s why it was chosen for Project Progeny.
“All right, let’s get this over with.” She gestured ahead and Mitch hustled down the hall to key in his security code at Leander’s lab. He held open the door.
West strode through. In a glance, she took in the room. Captain Garrigan stood at attention over by the glass wall. She’d read up on him as well. He had an impressive record. Personally she thought he was overqualified for his current position, but that was not her call.
Garrigan initiated a crisp salute. She saluted in turn before turning her attention to the small woman next to him. From the file, Regina had expected the doctor to be some geeky little lab scientist, like the rest of them, but she wasn’t. She had a healthy glow to her skin and muscle underneath the baggy lab coat. And she looked even younger than her file suggested.
West's gaze drifted past the doctor and her guard to the subject behind the glass. She stiffened when she saw it. She knew it would be small. But it looked back at her with big, dark eyes, giving it a childlike appearance even though she knew it was close to thirty years old. She shook her head, knowing its innocent appearance had undeniably fooled more than one person. But she would not be so easily fooled.
“Why is the subject unrestrained?” she asked.
Maeve opened her mouth, but Garrigan cut her off. “Ma’am, Subject 1 has never needed to be restrained. He is cooperative.”
“Captain Garrigan, Subject 1 is not human. You cannot predict what he will or will not do. He is an unknown—”
Dr. Leander cut her off. “With all due respect, Commander, he is not an unknown. I have worked in close contact with the subject for over two decades. He has never made any aggressive moves towards anyone. Even if he did, he does not have the musculature to do damage.”
West eyed her. A little gumption in this one. That could either be a very good thing or a very bad one. “And if he ever does?”
“That’s why I’m here, Commander,” Chris said.
Regina watched the two of them. They were close. It could be just from working together or it could be more.
She glanced back at the being. It sat quietly on the cot. She read no menace off the thing, but she did get a sense of sadness. She shook off the idea. These things did not have the same emotions as humans.
But it was true there had been no reports of physical violence from the being in its entire time in captivity. But she wasn’t about to be the one who allowed the first to occur. “It will be restrained. There will be no exceptions.”
“There’s no call for that,” the doctor said. “You’ll push back all the progress we’ve made.”
“Doctor, I have no interest in hindering your research, but I will not allow one of these things to gain the upper hand and harm one of my people. And like it or not, you are now one of mine as well. If you wish to continue on this project, you will follow the rules outlined regarding it. If not, you will not remain on this project.”
The doctor held her lips firmly together and gave a brief nod.
“Good,” Regina said. “Now, I see in his file he is nocturnal.”
The doctor nodded.
“Is there anything else about him that is not in the file?”
“No. My work speaks for itself.”
“Very well. You have each received a packet including the rules for this facility. Any breach of those rules will result in immediate termination. Ignorance is not an acceptable excuse.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chris said.
The doctor said nothing.
Well, she doesn’t like me.
But the thought didn’t bother Regina. You didn’t get to her position without developing a thick outer shell. “Very well. I’ll leave you to your work. Dr. Leander, I look forward to your first report.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Maeve watched the commander leave flanked by her lieutenant, her distaste growing. As soon as the door closed she turned to Chris. “Thanks for the backup.”
Chris sighed. “Maeve, how can you not understand how the military works after all the time you’ve spent on bases? You know if I said anything, all I would accomplish would be getting re-assigned or worse.”
Maeve looked away, trying to rein in her temper, knowing he was right.
Chris’s voice softened. “Look, we follow the rules, we show them who Alvie really is, and then we can work on getting the rules loosened.”
Maeve nodded. She knew it was the right call. But it was hard to agree that Alvie should be restrained like some kind of animal.
She turned to the glass wall. Alvie had curled up on the cot and was staring at the wall. She rested her head on the glass, watching him, her heart breaking. He’d never asked for any of this. He had no choice in any of it. Yet he had never done anything but show them compassion and trust. And as a reward, he was treated as a criminal.
The sob caught her by surprise. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Alvie.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Greg stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor next to Leslie, practically bouncing. He was working in Area 51. He couldn’t say it was a childhood dream because he’d never imagined it happening, but he could barely contain his excitement just imagining what research might be happening in this building.
He glanced over at Leslie, who was not looking as excited as he was. She was always more serious. He smiled. “So did you watch the latest episode of Dragon Quest? I saw it on the plane. It was insane.”
Leslie rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t watch that stuff?”
“Oh, come on. I can totally see you clad in armor facing down a beast.”
Leslie stopped and turned, narrowing her eyes. “You better not be picturing me wearing anything like that.”
“Well, if you’d prefer to do it naked, I can—”
“You are so lucky I am not allowed to hurt you.”
Greg grinned. “Hey, when you’re a beautiful woman, you have to put up with the fantasies of us poor schlubs who are so far below your league that we’re playing a different game altogether.”
Across the room, the sound of a throat clearing could be heard. Both Greg and Leslie looked over at the middle-aged man who watched them with disapproval stamped across his face. The soldier standing next to him looked more amused.
Greg felt like he’d been caught flirting with a girl by his dad. “Oh, hey, didn’t see you there. I’m Greg.”
The middle-aged man inclined his head. “Dr. Schorn, I’m Dr. Sheridan. I have overseen the transfer of data files and arranged to have the subject moved into the cell.” He nodded toward the glassed-in room to his right.
Greg walked over to the glass and peered in. The silver container lay still. “Hank still out?”
Sheridan narrowed his eyes. �
�Yes—Kecksburg-AG2 is still out. The sedative should last for at least another three hours. It had to be re-administered in flight.”
“Okay, well, let’s get our boy out of there and locked up before he wakes up, shall we?” Greg stepped toward the door.
“I believe that falls under your purview. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on a few more labs.” Without another glance, the doctor brushed past Greg and exited the room.
His guard trailed after him. “And the fun continues,” he muttered as he passed Greg.
Greg smiled. “Poor guy. See how lucky you are to get assigned to me? And I more than lucked out getting you.”
“Oh, enough,” Leslie snapped. “I get it—you think I’m hot. Can we stop with all the comments now?”
Greg felt like he’d been slapped. “Uh, sorry. I’m just joking. I didn’t think they really bothered you.”
“Greg—”
“No, hey, old sourpuss was right about one thing—I should get to work.”
Greg walked over to the computer and pulled up the latest diagnostics on Hank. All readings indicated Hank was still under the influence. The cell was equipped with a crane that would allow Greg to remove Hank from his coffin without any help. He just needed to attach the crane.
Greg pulled on his gloves and keyed himself into the cell. He was working on automatic pilot, but inside he was a ten-year-old kid who’d just been laughed at by the pretty girl in class. Stupid, so stupid. I should just keep my mouth shut.
He unsnapped the locks on the one side of the coffin. He grabbed the handle and started to lift.
“No!” Leslie yelled. She sprinted into the cell and slammed her hands on the lid, holding it down.
“What are you—”
“He’s awake!”
Greg whipped his head to the side. His eyes met the stare of Hank, who glared at him from the circular window in the lid. Two of Hank’s fingers were curled around the side of the lid, trying to shove it open. It bounced.
