“Lane,” Wilkinson said. “Is that what they call you?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay Lane. Do you know what ‘The Experiment’ is?”
“No sir.”
“You have absolutely no information?” Wilkinson asked. “No overheard conversations that you can recall? No cellmates telling you what we’re doing here in the labs?”
“No sir,” Lane said with as much honesty as he could muster. He couldn’t possibly get Martinez in trouble, he was the only person who had been good to him in all that time.
“Okay then,” Wilkinson said at last. “I don’t know if someone has told you the rules before, but here it is: whatever happens here, you do not talk about it. If you do, and we find out, and we will find out, there will be severe penalties, not just for you but for the person you talk to.”
“I won’t say anything, sir.”
“Good,” Wilkinson said and pulled an IV drip closer. He inserted the IV needle into Lane’s arm. Apart from the prick of the needle, Lane felt nothing. And then Wilkinson added something to the IV, a purple-colored solution, and Lane felt a bit of a burn when the liquid hit his arm. He told himself to keep calm, the lesson that all his time in prison had taught him, but when the burning reached unbearable levels, his body fought against the restraints, trying uselessly to find escape.
“Please!” he yelled, unable to concentrate on keeping his voice low. But neither his pleading, nor his body’s constant struggle against the straps helped. Wilkinson’s face remained as impassive as it was before, and stayed that way when Lane was screaming through the roof.
Wilkinson picked up a voice recorder and spoke into it: “Test subject code alpha-kappa-sierra one thirty-nine. Phase I initiated.”
*
Hours later the torture ended and Lane felt a thirst the likes of which he had never felt before. Wilkinson entered the room before Lane could speak and removed the IV. He casually undid Lane's straps and Lane noticed the guards standing by for his directions. Soon the guards were getting him off the table and back to his cell and on the way Lane felt queasy and had to throw up and when he did one of the guards hit him in the legs. He was still trying to recover from the blow, when he heard someone speaking. “Hey, its okay,” the man said. “I’ll clean that up.”
Lane looked up at the person who had spoken this. The man was carrying janitor’s equipment and it was obvious he was an inmate. The man looked at him and smiled and Lane wished he could thank him somehow, but he was too weak to even speak. He hoped he would see the man some other time, and hoped he would be able to return the favor somehow and the guards started dragging him away.
*
Martinez was waiting patiently for him back in their cell.
When the guards left, Martinez came over to his side with a water bottle and raised Lane's head to help him drink. Lane had to go slow to make sure he didn't choke.
When Martinez set the bottle aside and corrected the pillow under Lane's head, Lane gripped his arm. “Thank you,” he managed.
Martinez used his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off Lane's forehead. “It's alright,” he said. “Just relax and get some sleep, you’ll feel better.”
Lane wasn’t sure that was true, but he closed his eyes anyway.
CHAPTER 9
DEAD ENDS PART I
CAFÉ
ZYRON, REGION-ONE
“Mind if I take this seat?”
Connor looked up from his meal at the woman and recognized her face, but couldn’t remember where he’d seen her. The woman saw him puzzled and introduced herself. “I’m Sydney Chang,” she said. “I’m a reporter, you called me a few times.”
“Chang,” Connor said. “That was weeks ago. Please,” he gestured to the chair. “Have a seat.”
“I wanted to talk to you about your brother’s case,” Sydney said before she had even placed her bag down. “I’m willing to help, if you can do what I say.”
Connor wiped his hands on the napkin. “Haven’t you people made enough of a media circus?” he said. “Besides. Why didn’t you help me when I needed it?”
“I was out of town Mr. Volze,” Sydney said. “And I’m not doing this to take advantage of your situation. You can take a look at my case history if you don’t believe me.”
“My brother’s already in Black Walls,” Connor said. “Not even The General can help him now.”
“That’s not true,” Sydney said. “I’ve had success with such cases before, I can help you brother out too, these things happen.”
“Not often enough.”
“No, because people like you, the ones who’re connected to the case usually don’t have the balls to stand up against the authorities.”
“Balls?” Connor said. “Are you for real? So what because I’m a guy you can just throw something like that at me and expect me to suddenly be your puppet?”
“Look I’m sorry,” Sydney said. “That was uncalled for, not to mention extremely petty. I’m just getting a little tired of reaching dead-ends.”
“So am I, but I’m not going around reminding people what they’re doing wrong.”
“Look,” Sydney said. “I can help your brother. We can campaign for his release, we can bring the Zyres down publicly, hurt their credibility if we do it right. If we make them think that this is taking too much of their time and resources, they will be forced give your brother back to you. It’s election season, that would be their best strategy. They won’t risk losing any more voters.”
“And how are you going to make that work?”
“Well,” Sydney said. “First you have to tell me what really happened that night.”
“Did you not get The Force descriptions?”
“I said really happened Mr. Volze.”
“Who’s to say you’re not going to land me into more trouble?”
“You have my word,” Sydney said. “But I need to know what happened, so we can move forward.”
So Connor told her the story.
Everything that Dominic had told him that night.
Sydney listened patiently and finally ordered herself a drink. “Wow,” she said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Neither does anyone else.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sydney said. “Will this person, the friend who was at the scene, will he testify?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to get him to testify,” Sydney said. “Even if we have one witness who says this happened we have a case. And you of course are willing to come on national television and say the same thing?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I can get your brother exonerated.”
Connor thought about Dyer and the things he had told him a few days back. About Natalie and Zachary and everyone else who was willing to help him. But there was a difference between breaking Lane out of prison so he could live the life of a fugitive, and getting him acquitted. This way Lane could live the life of a normal person again. “I’ll do it,” he said. “Whatever statement you want me to give. If it helps my brother I’m willing to try it.”
*
REGION-ONE
For some reason, Kevin wasn’t too happy when he heard about Connor’s conversation with the reporter. He had some serious reservations, and most of them had to do with the fact that he didn’t trust people in the media. “Are you kidding me?” he said when Connor was done talking. “You told her you’ll do it? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“She said she could get Lane acquitted,” Connor said. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that. She does have a history of solving the most complicated cases.”
“So you’ll go on television and tell everyone what happened? Get a bulls-eye on your back? Is that what you want?”
“It’s better than breaking him out of prison, which is what Dyer seems hell-bent on.”
“Because it’s the only way!” Kevin said. “God, Connor what the hell is wrong with you? Are you seriously going
to start trusting journalists now? Are you that dense? She’s just going to exploit you! It’s what they do!”
“And you think Jace, who by definition is a politician, is willing to help my brother out of the goodness of his heart? Are you that dense?”
“You know Jace isn’t like those people.”
“He’s a politician isn’t he?”
“He’s a resistance leader,” Kevin said. “That’s not the same thing. Whatever his motives, I know for a fact that he’s not trying to help you because he wants something in return.”
The kind of trust Kevin had in Dyer was surprising. “That’s not even the only thing,” Connor said. “Breaking Lane out of prison, means he lives the rest of his life as a man on the run. Which is fine as a last resort, if he’s alive and well. But Kevin, if there’s one tiny chance Sydney might be able to give Lane a normal life, don’t you think I should take it?”
Kevin stood there, fuming and Connor couldn’t understand it. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he said. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to be the martyr. You’ve given up on Lane ever getting out and now you’re trying to get killed so you won’t have to face the reality.”
“Wow,” Connor said. “When did you get your psychology degree?”
“Stop it.”
“No, you stop it!” Connor said. “Everything I say, to you it’s either me going insane or being impulsive. Well, newsflash Kevin, I’m not the same person! They took my brother away to some torture camp and there’s nothing, nothing I can do about it and I’m supposed to just live with that? That’s not going to happen. I’ll do everything in my power to get him back.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Kevin said. “You keep saying you lost your brother but I’ve spent my whole life thinking the two of you were my family. And suddenly, one brother’s gone and the other one’s going suicidal and there’s nothing I can do either, so don’t act like you’re the only one going through this!”
Suddenly, Connor realized his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to calm down. “I’m sorry I’ve been so completely wrapped up in this, I almost forget you must be just as miserable.”
Kevin stood there, silent for a while. “He was my brother too you know,” he said. “I did everything for him, just as you. I hate it sometimes, when you act like you’re the only one related to him.”
“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”
Kevin dropped heavily on the couch. “Sometimes I tell myself this isn’t happening,” he said. “It’s the only way I can get by some days.”
“Look,” Connor said. “If you really think going to that journalist is a terrible idea, then we should just stick to Jace’s plan.”
“No,” Kevin said. “You’re right. Getting an official exoneration, there’s nothing like it. If you think that reporter can help, we should try it.”
“What about that bulls-eye?”
“Guess I’ll just have to protect your sorry ass.”
*
Connor stared up at Dominic’s apartment building.
“Are you ready?” Kevin asked him.
“Ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”
They hurried upstairs, making sure no one saw them. It was pretty late in the night for anyone to be around but they were still being cautious. When they got to his door, Kevin gestured for Connor to knock.
“Who is it?” Dominic’s voice came from inside the house.
“It’s me, Connor. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Look, I can’t do this from out here, please let me in and I’ll explain everything.”
After a moment of deliberation Dominic finally let Connor in. When Kevin entered just as forcibly as Connor had the last time, Dominic started yelling for help. But Kevin’s gun in his face shut him up pretty quick. “Try anything and you’re going to get a taste of this,” he said. “Let’s just do this like adults, listen to what Connor has to say, shall we?”
“I already told you what I know.”
“And I appreciate it,” Connor said. “But maybe I can convince you to do more.”
“More?”
“I want you to testify in court,” Connor said. “Become a witness. Tell everyone what really happened.”
“Yeah?” Dominic said. “Well, why don’t you just stick that bullet in my head instead? It’s going to be less painful.”
“Hey,” Kevin pressed the muzzle against Dominic’s head. “Don’t tempt me, I just might.”
“Lane was your friend,” Connor said. “Don’t you give a shit?”
“Listen man,” Dominic said. “I love Lane. I love all my friends. But what you’re asking me to do is equivalent to thrusting my head in the oven. I can’t fight the authorities! No one can!”
“What if there was a way,” Connor said. “A way to get Lane back legally. A journalist I know, she says she’s going to help him get exonerated but that only works if someone who was at the scene of crime testifies.”
“Regardless,” Dominic said. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you.”
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “We thought you might say something like that.” He directed the weapon over Dominic’s leg and pressed the trigger and Kevin fell to the floor, screaming.
But then Connor realized Dominic wasn’t the only one producing the shrill cries.
“Is that…is that a baby?” Kevin said. He must have noticed the sounds coming from one of the rooms and went to see what it was, when Dominic started yelling.
“No, please don’t go in there!” he kept saying. He turned to Connor. “Please, stop him!”
Connor followed Kevin into the room and saw the baby screaming inside a crib. He was barely a few months old.
“Please don’t hurt her,” Dominic said. “Please I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want, just please leave her alone, don’t make her a part of this.”
“Is that your kid?” Kevin asked.
“Yes.”
“Where’s the mother?”
“She’s dead.”
“The Zyre girl who Lane is supposed to have killed?”
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“Tell me the whole story,” Connor said.
“Mackenzie was afraid of her parents,” Dominic said. “She couldn’t leave the child anywhere else. She trusted me.”
“She trusted some drug dealer with her baby?” Kevin said. “She must have really been out of options.”
“She loved me,” Dominic said defensively. “And no one knows about this baby. No one but us. She was waiting for the right moment to tell her parents.”
There was silence in the room.
“What’re you going to do?” Dominic said. “Just tell me.”
Connor reached into his wallet for some cash and placed it in Dominic’s hand. “This is for the leg,” he said and dragged Kevin out of the baby’s room.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kevin whispered when they were outside. “Don’t you want to see your brother alive?”
“At the cost of someone else’s life?”
Kevin saw the look on Connor’s face and said nothing further. Connor went back inside, saw Dominic trying to get the baby to be quiet. Despite the leg, he was holding her up, probably to calm her down.
“Look I’m sorry,” Connor said. “This is all one big misunderstanding.”
“It’s okay.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lulu.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks.”
“Dominic,” Connor said. “You’re Lane’s friend. If you ever need anything, just come and ask, alright? I’ll help you, I promise. No questions asked. Raising a child isn’t easy, I know.”
“That’s right,” Dominic said. “Lane says you brought him up. So in a way, he’s like your baby. I can understand why you were always so overprotective.”
“I’m not overprotective,” Connor said. “Am I?”
“You kinda are,” Dominic said, putting the baby back in the crib and this time she didn’t cry. Dominic brought a first-aid kit from the drawer and carried it back to a chair placed next to the crib.
“Sorry about that,” Connor said, looking at the wound. It was bleeding all over the floor, but Dominic looked oddly relaxed for a guy who had just been shot.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dominic said. “Flesh wound.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m a drug dealer. Hardly my first rodeo.”
“Are you going to keep doing that? Even with the baby?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Dominic said. “I’ve never been to school, people aren’t exactly dying to hire me.”
“Well, if you need anything, you let me know.”
“Thanks Mr. Volze.”
“You can call me Connor.”
“Okay.”
Connor started to leave when Dominic called after him. “I’m sorry about Lane,” he said. “I really am.”
“I’m sorry about your girlfriend.”
“What’re you going to do now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Mind if I give you a suggestion?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Have you talked to Arianna?”
“Arianna?”
“You know Lane was going out with her, right?”
“Of course I know,” Connor said. “Lane wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.”
“Right so, why don’t you ask her?”
“You think she’d agree to give the testimony?”
“Why not,” Dominic said. “She loves Lane. She’d want him back just as much as you if not more.”
“I don’t know where she lives.”
Dominic limped over to the drawer and found a pen and paper. He scribbled the address and handed the paper to Connor. “I hope this works.”
“Me too, Dominic. Thanks for the help.”
“Don’t mention it.”
*
“Do you even want your brother back?” Kevin snapped, putting the car into drive mode.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you’d stuck with me a moment longer, Dominic would have given in, we would have something solid we could make a case out of.”
EXPERIMENT Page 8
