by R. D. Brady
“Do something!” Leslie yelled.
Greg scrambled around to the other side of the containment unit and slipped on the floor, banging into the edge of the unit. His elbow went numb. “Damn it.”
The lid started to rise. Leslie jumped on top of it. Hank let out a screech as its fingers were crushed under the lid, but he didn’t let go.
Greg punched at the computer console, his heart racing. “Hold your breath!”
He punched the execute button. White smoke drifted across the inside of the box. Hank locked eyes with Greg and curled his lip. Greg held his breath, but then the lid stopped shaking. Hank’s eyes closed. Greg slumped onto the top of the coffin. “He’s out.”
“What happened?” Leslie asked as she slowly climbed down, keeping an eye on Hank’s still form through the window.
Greg felt shaky. “I don’t know. He should have been out for at least another hour, maybe more. I mean, I checked the readings—he was out, completely out. He’s never just come to like that.”
“Well, let’s get him locked up before he awakens.”
Greg shook his head as he walked toward Leslie. “No, I’ll do it.”
“Um, the chivalry is nice and all, but—”
Greg gave her a shaky smile. “Well, I’m glad you think I’m chivalrous. But it’s not that. You need to contact the other labs and let them know their subjects may not be quite as out as they appear.”
“What other subjects?”
Greg sighed. “Les, we all saw the other containment units. There’re dozens of the things. Make the call.”
She stepped back. “Fine, but I’ll make it from in here. Just in case.”
“Okay.” And Greg didn’t tell her how much better that made him feel. Instead, he stared at Hank through the glass before carefully lifting the lid. Hank’s scaly skin glinted in the light. His chest moved up and down.
Greg’s gaze traveled down the well-muscled arms and the incredibly strong, long fingers. Leslie had put all her body weight on top of the lid and yet Hank’s fingers hadn’t been crushed. They weren’t even nicked. The power of Hank was unbelievable. Greg had seen him crush a metal table leg with one squeeze. He didn’t want to imagine what those fingers could do to a human neck.
Greg quickly fastened additional restraints around Hank’s arms and stepped back to activate the crane. As it lowered, he pictured Hank’s face staring at him. He pushed stop on the crane mechanism and shut the containment unit again. He’d wait until Hank had a few more doses. He wanted to be sure there was no chance Hank would come to again.
As the crane raised back to the ceiling, he felt the tremors fall over him again. He imagined what Hank could have done if Leslie hadn’t warned him. Leslie came and stood next to him.
“Everywhere else okay?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I warned them. I’m sure it will be okay.”
Greg nodded. But he wasn’t so sure. Hank should not have been able to awaken that quickly. He’d had no inkling of that trait in him in the two years he had been working with him. So what else was Hank hiding?
Greg swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he pictured the other coffins he’d seen back at Wright-Patt.
And what the hell else is in this building?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chris made his way to the dorms on the base that night. Although apartments were set up for them in Las Vegas, they were encouraged to stay on base the first few days as things got settled. It wasn’t the military being nice. If there were problems, they wanted to be able to grab the bodies they needed to fix the problem.
When he’d left the lab, Maeve had still been there. Greta hadn’t been able to leave Dayton immediately, which meant Maeve would either have to train someone new or take over the day shift as well. He had a sinking feeling he knew which she’d pick. As he was leaving, he had arranged for a cot to be brought in so she could be nearby if Alvie needed anything. Alvie’s night guard had shown up ten minutes before Chris left. Chris didn’t know his replacement, and he’d warned Maeve to keep her closeness to Alvie under wraps.
He hoped she could do it.
“Hey. You staying too?” a voice asked as Chris stepped into the front foyer of the dorm.
Chris looked up and caught sight of Leslie walking down the hall. He conjured up a smile. “Yeah. Things are kind of hectic. I wasn’t really up for travelling again.”
Leslie gave a giant yawn. “Me either. As soon as I hit my rack, I am going to conk out.”
“Have a good night,” Chris said as he headed up the stairs to the men’s barracks. The dorm was only two floors. The women’s rooms were on the first floor.
“Night,” Leslie said as she headed down the hall.
As soon as Leslie was out of view, Maeve returned to the center of Chris’s thoughts. He’d known her for two years. And he’d asked her out almost every week for the last few months. He’d started it as a joke, but soon it became more than that. He knew she felt something for him. At first, he’d wanted to get her to say yes for the challenge of it. But the more he watched her, the more he grew to admire her. She was brilliant, sexy, and tough in her own way. And brave. He’d watched her pick herself up after her mother’s death and keep going. And with Alvie, he saw her heart.
But that big heart of hers was now part of the problem. Maeve was easily the smartest woman he’d ever met. He didn’t even pretend he could match wits with her. He knew that. But she wore her heart on her sleeve and her love for Alvie was practically tangible.
If anyone finds out how much she cares about him …
He sighed. He just hoped it didn’t get her booted from the project. Because he knew neither Alvie nor Maeve would survive that separation.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Oh, coffee, you are my best friend, Maeve thought as she took a sip. It had not been a good night. Chris had had a cot moved in, which had been incredibly thoughtful, but he might as well have not bothered. She’d tried to sleep, but the new guard had put her on edge. She didn’t like how he looked at Alvie or what he said about him.
Last night, before she’d attempted sleeping, she’d given Alvie a sedative. She knew he would need it after all the turmoil and that it would be safer if he didn’t wake up while she was asleep.
When she’d stepped out of the room, the guard, Andy Henning, had shook his head. “I don’t know how you can go near that thing. Gives me the creeps just looking at him.”
Maeve had said nothing.
“They really should just put the thing out of its misery. An autopsy could tell you just as much, couldn’t it?”
Maeve didn’t even try to keep the revulsion out of her voice. “The subject is not to be harmed.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t need to tell me my orders. I’m just making conversation.”
“Well, I think I’ve had enough conversation.”
He snorted. “Suit yourself.”
Maeve had climbed onto the cot and pulled the blanket over herself a few minutes later, but she couldn’t sleep. Every time Henning went near the glass wall she tensed. And she was pretty sure he knew.
Asshole, she thought, taking another sip.
“Morning, sunshine,” he called from the other side of the room.
Maeve ignored him.
The door opened and Chris strode in. He took one look at Maeve’s face and his jaw tightened. But unlike Maeve, he was more adept at hiding his emotions. An easy smile crossed his face as he nodded at Henning. “Morning.”
“Hey, man.”
“How was your night?”
“Uneventful.”
“Well, I’ll take over. See you in twelve.”
“You got it.” Henning left without a word to Maeve.
The tension in the room decreased as soon as the door shut close behind him. Maeve sank back onto the couch.
Chris walked over. “You okay?
She nodded. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep much.”
Chris
glanced over at where Alvie still lay sleeping before turning back to Maeve. “Well, why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll wake you when Alvie’s up.”
“I’d love to. But there’s a whole day full of testing planned.”
Chris frowned. “You can’t take a few minutes?”
Maeve shook her head. “No. There are some technicians coming to evaluate Alvie. I need to get him up and ready. And I need to go over all my test results from the last few weeks.”
“Okay. Well, let me help. I’ll get Alvie some breakfast and ready for the day and you can go through the paperwork.”
Maeve smiled up at him, realizing they sounded like an old married couple splitting up the household duties. “Thanks.”
Chris held his hands out to her. “Anytime. Now get to work, Doc.”
“Yes, sir.” Maeve placed her hands in his and he pulled her up. “I wanted to thank you,” Maeve said.
“For what?”
“For being a good guy. Henning made me realize how we lucked out with you.”
“I’m sure Henning isn’t that bad a guy, once you get to know him.”
Maeve shook her head, thinking about how Henning had watched her while she tried to sleep. A chill crawled over her. “No. He’s a bad guy, Chris. Of that I’m sure.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The plane moved smoothly through the air after a bit of turbulence over the Midwest. Martin had the cabin to himself. In fact, he always had the cabin to himself. He’d written the purchase into one of his budgets years ago and no one had even blinked at the expense.
He took a sip of his kale juice as he watched the monitor in front of him. On screen, Martin watched the soldier throw herself on the transport while the scientist in glasses raced around the side, slipping in his haste. A few seconds later, Kecksburg-AG2 had been knocked out, but the two humans on screen looked terrified. Martin made a note on his file.
He hummed as he flipped through some of the other screens. The move had gone smoothly. But already, some of the creatures had shown some unexpected behaviors.
And that is exactly why Vault is called for. Finally, we’re learning something about them.
His phone rang, and he reached inside his jacket pocket for it before he realized it wasn’t that phone. He pulled the other phone from his briefcase. He quickly placed the signal scrambler on and the program that would disguise his voice. “Yes?”
“Mr. Smith? It’s Andy Henning from 51.”
Martin sighed. “Code names.”
“Oh, right, sorry. Um, this is Eagle at Canyon.”
“Yes, Eagle? You have a report?”
“Yes. I just left Leander’s lab. And you’re right—she cares about the thing. Although I can’t see how.”
Martin had had Henning assigned to Leander. He wanted someone to keep an eye on the good doctor to make sure she didn’t cause any problems. Not that he expected her to. But he also hadn’t expected the mother to be a problem, and that moment of underestimation had cost Martin dearly. “What about her day security?”
“Garrigan? He’s a good guy. A straight arrow.”
Another good guy. How nice. He was really beginning to hate that stupid phrase. “Keep an eye on her.”
“If you need me to do anything more than watch her, I have no problem with that.”
“I am well aware of that.” He’d chosen Henning because he had a very pragmatic approach to violence. “Not yet. As of right now, she’s not to be harmed.”
Henning hesitated. “But that might change in the future, right?”
Martin smiled. “Oh, I can almost guarantee it.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The small conversation Maeve had with Chris that morning had been the last moment of peace for hours. The powers that be wanted every test, physical and otherwise, run as soon as possible.
Alvie had even had to run another obstacle course. The technicians who were monitoring the course had at first been surprised at Alvie’s agility and how calmly he’d allowed himself to be restrained and placed in and out of the containment unit for transport.
In fact, everyone that Alvie had been exposed to that day had been amazed at how cooperative Alvie was. While initially nervous around him, they soon grew more relaxed. But Maeve grew more nervous with each person he was exposed to. At Wright-Patt, she’d been in charge of all of Alvie’s testing. Did the inclusion of so many others mean she would soon be pushed out?
Despite her concerns, in a lot of ways, the day had gone well. Alvie had settled down and seemed much calmer than when they arrived. Two other scientists had arrived to take blood samples. They had been very standoffish when they first stepped in the lab. The phleblomists had been shocked when Alvie extended his arm to Maeve for the blood draw, and Alvie’s cooperation once again won them over. It left Maeve thinking that maybe Chris was right—maybe they just had to show everyone what Alvie could do and then the restraints could be loosened up.
Alvie was sleeping now, and Maeve sat at the computer, making sure all the files from Wright-Patt had been transferred. She rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted. She had gotten a note from Greta that she would join her in a few days when she packed up her world at home.
She had offered to pack up Maeve’s place too. Maeve had been thankful for the offer, because to be honest, she hadn’t even thought of her old apartment or any of the stuff in it. But if this was her new home, it would be nice to have some of her things around her.
Maeve had wanted to call John, just to hear a familiar voice, but she’d been informed that all calls on and off base were prohibited for the first week someone was on base. Internet usage was also restricted, and Maeve had the distinct feeling that it was not only Alvie who was currently locked up.
Another guard had replaced Chris, who was needed for some sort of debriefing, but he promised to be back before Henning arrived. The new guard studiously avoided looking at Alvie or talking to Maeve, and she had no problem with that.
Maeve rubbed her eyes, glancing over the icons on her desktop. All Alvie’s medical files were here, his psychological reports, his dexterity and intelligence reports. Everything from his last three years.
Maeve frowned, noticing a folder she was unfamiliar with. A thrill shot through her as she realized what it was—Alvie’s early history. Everything she had been trying to find at Wright-Patt. With her higher security clearance, she was finally being given clearance to see them.
Well, at least one good thing’s come from this move.
She clicked on the link and a data box with seventeen folders appeared. She settled back and clicked on the first file and started to read. An hour later, Maeve’s exhaustion had all but disappeared. It was like travelling back in time, with her mother as a tour guide. She could read between her mother’s scientific speak to see when she was scared for Alvie and when she was proud of him.
The subject has demonstrated the ability to read and comprehend the English language. His writing is almost illegible, I believe due to his lack of a thumb. However, his typing demonstrates his keen understanding. Although only eight years old, he easily demonstrates a grasp of subjects at a high-school level.
Her mother’s pride came through loud and clear. And Maeve could remember when, as a child, she’d go see Alvie, a library book in hand, and Alvie would cuddle up next to her as she read to him. The books were probably too young for him, but he always wanted her to read to him, his head resting contentedly on her arm.
But I guess he didn’t need me to read the books. Maeve smiled at the memory and then clicked on the last file. Unlike the others, it was only identified by a number and letter—G2.
Maeve frowned at the identification.
G2? What’s that?
She scanned through the documents and shock took away all her thoughts. Her eyes couldn’t seem to leave one sentence on the report: The somatic cell was successfully transferred from Subject 1 to the emptied egg cell.
Shaking, her eyes flew back to the beginni
ng of the report and the project title attached to it: B.E.G.I.N.— Biological Experiment of Genetic Interaction Nexus.
Heart hammering, she re-read the report, trying to reach some other conclusion. She started back at the beginning, reading the report through again and then again.
This can’t be right. It’s not possible.
Her horrified gaze flew back to where Alvie slept in the enclosure. She had been wrong all these years. He wasn’t an alien who had been left behind or born to an alien mother in captivity.
He was a clone.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Maeve stared at the computer screen, seconds ticking away, her mind unable to comprehend what the file in front of her was telling her. A clone—he was not a unique individual. He was in essence a copy.
Maeve had never imagined it. And how could she? The first official clone wasn’t created until 1996 by a group of scientists at the University of Edinburgh. Dolly the sheep had been hailed as the scientific breakthrough of the century.
And yet, Alvie had been created ten years earlier. Maeve knew the military had made incredible advances in multiple fields, but she’d never realized they had been this far ahead of the game—that her mother was that far ahead of the other scientists of her generation. But who had they created him from? Where had the original sample come from?
She stared at the date of his birth. Alvie was born almost a year after she was. The embryo was created from a stem cell three months after Maeve was born. Maeve’s jaw dropped.
She couldn’t. She didn’t…
She scanned the file, looking for any indication that she was correct, but there was nothing to indicate where the stem cell had come from. But in her heart she knew the truth: her mother had taken one of Maeve’s. In the late eighties, stem cells were not regularly collected. But she knew her mother had collected hers. And now she knew what had happened to at least some of them—her mother had used them to help create Alvie.
