by R. D. Brady
Maeve narrowed her eyes, taking in the older woman. “And what is your role in all this? Who do you work for?”
“No one anymore. But I worked for the government for years, and I’ve learned things along the way.”
Maeve crossed her arms over her chest. “So what exactly did you do for the government?”
Tilda shrugged. “Oh, different things over the years.”
Maeve was starting to get a little annoyed at the vagueness in the woman’s answers. “Exactly which parts of the government did you work for?”
Tilda met Maeve’s gaze without blinking. “I started out with NASA back in the fifties. I was a computer.”
Maeve frowned. “A computer?”
But Greg’s face lit up. “That is so cool!”
Maeve looked at him in confusion.
Greg grinned at her in response. “Back before computers as we know them today were used, NASA needed to calculate all their math by hand. They had human computers. People who could do these amazing math problems that we need computer machines to run today.”
The fifties? Maeve took a close look at the woman across from her. True, she had brilliantly white hair. But her tank top showed off her muscular arms and strong physique. And while she had a few wrinkles, there weren’t a lot. Honestly if she dyed her hair she could probably pass for being in her late thirties or early forties. “How old were you when you started there?”
“Fourteen.”
Maeve sat back in shock. That meant Tilda had to be in her seventies at least.
Tilda winked at her. “I look good for my age.”
“Yeah, you do,” Greg said.
Maeve looked at him in disbelief.
He frowned at Maeve before the understanding of exactly how his last statement sounded caught up with him. “What? No, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Uh huh,” Maeve said.
“I’m just going to sit here quietly,” Greg muttered.
“So you work with NASA?” Maeve asked.
“No. I worked with NASA. I moved on to different agencies within the government. I didn’t learn about the A.L.I.V.E. projects until well after they had begun.” Tilda nodded back toward the front of the house. “He was already twenty years old and the other projects had been created at that point.”
Maeve looked away from Tilda’s probing gaze. Maeve had been stunned when she’d learned that other projects existed. And none of those beings had been shown the care Alvie had been. Maeve had wondered in the weeks after everything had happened at 51 if things would have been different if the ‘projects’ had been shown compassion rather than clinical assessment. “I wish I could have done more.”
Tilda reached out and squeezed Maeve’s hand, surprising her. “You did all you could. And you took on the responsibility of those three little ones even though you were essentially in a war zone.”
“Anyone would have done that,” Maeve said.
Tilda shook her head. “That’s not true, because when you found them, they were alone. Someone left them there.”
Maeve had never thought of it like that. But Tilda was correct—someone had left the triplets behind, not concerned about what would happen to them. Although with the signs of the abuse on them, she shouldn’t be surprised. But she was, and she felt angry all over again at their treatment.
“Anyway,” Tilda continued, “when I heard about the projects, there was nothing I could do. But I kept an eye on the situation, and after 51 I made sure to keep an eye on you in Denver and Dr. Schorn here. When I saw you were in trouble, we moved in.”
“But how? No one is supposed to know where we are,” Maeve said.
Tilda snorted. “Right. The government is like a giant sieve; very little stays secret for long. But in this case, I have to admit they played your locations very close to the vest. But we had a little help.”
“From who?”
Tilda paused. “I don’t know, exactly. But someone has been feeding us information for months. And whoever it is, is very well connected. Their information has always been spot on. They let us know you were in trouble today.”
“And they warned Chris as well,” Greg said.
“You trust them?” Maeve asked.
“To a certain point, yes. Like I said, their information has been accurate. But like you, I don’t like not knowing who I’m dealing with.”
“Have you tried to figure out who they are?”
“I have people working on it,” Tilda said. “But they’ve been working on it for months with no luck. I don’t think Guardian will reveal his identity until he wants to.”
“Or her identity,” Greg cut in. “No need to be sexist. It is the twenty-first century, after all.”
Tilda tilted her head toward him with a small smile. “Of course, Dr. Schorn.”
Maeve’s head spun. So apparently this Guardian was feeding them info and keeping them from harm. But … “So what exactly is your end goal here?”
“To keep you guys alive.”
Maeve nodded down the hall. “And Alvie and the triplets?”
Tilda gave a small smile. “Are a miracle. And I don’t want any harm to come to them. That, I can promise you.”
A wave of exhaustion rolled over Maeve. Tilda noticed. “Look, nothing is going to change if we table this conversation until tomorrow. Why don’t you get some sleep and then tomorrow you can ask me anything you like?”
“And will you answer every question I ask?”
The back door opened and a tall, muscular man with bright blonde hair stepped in, sunglasses on. This must be Adam.
Tilda stood with a smile. “All good?”
Adam nodded, and Maeve wondered why he didn’t take his dark glasses off. Had he been wearing them outside in the dark?
“Adam, this is Dr. Maeve Leander. She is the reason Alvie and the triplets survived at 51.”
Adam crossed the room and extended his hand. “It is a pleasure, Doctor.”
Greg’s mouth dropped open. “‘It is a pleasure, Doctor?’ Holy crap, that is the longest sentence I have ever heard you utter.”
Maeve shook his hand, noting how cold it was. “Adam.”
Adam withdrew his hand and didn’t respond to Greg’s outburst. With a glance at Tilda and a nod at Maeve, he disappeared down the hall. Maeve heard him making his way upstairs.
“Don’t let the fact that he completely ignored me fool you,” Greg said dryly. “We are the best of buds.”
“My grandson is a man of few words. But he takes his responsibilities very seriously.” Tilda stood up. “Well, I think I will retire as well. Adam has set a sensor perimeter a mile out from the house. If anyone comes near it, we’ll know well in advance. But we are well hidden here. So why don’t we all get some sleep? Dr. Leander, I assume you will want to stay with the little ones?”
Maeve nodded.
“All right. Greg, there’s an extra bedroom upstairs if you want it.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to bunk down here in case Maeve needs help.”
“Fair enough. Well, if you’ll excuse me, these old bones could use a little rest.” She headed out of the kitchen without even a droop in her shoulder.
“That is one tough lady,” Greg said.
“I don’t doubt it.” Maeve stood, then grabbed the edge of the table as the whole room swam for a minute.
Greg took her by the shoulders and steered her toward the door. “Come on. You need to sleep.”
He led her down the hall to the front bedroom. Maeve curled up on the opposite side of the bed from Alvie, the triplets asleep between them. None of them woke, but Pop made some noises and rolled to his side.
Greg stepped next to the bed on Alvie’s side. “I’d forgotten how cute they are.” He paused and then gestured to the old chair in corner. “Hey, um, do you mind if I bunk in here? I just would rather …” He shrugged.
Maeve knew she wanted people around her as well. “Of course. But be warned, the triplets will be all over you i
n the morning.”
Greg sat down, putting his feet up on the end of the bed. “I’m actually looking forward to it.”
Maeve closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. She was exhausted, but her mind was churning. After a few minutes, she opened them. “Greg?” she called quietly.
He peeked out at her from under heavy lids. “Yeah?”
“We can trust these two, right?”
Greg opened his mouth and then shut it before shaking his head. “I don’t know, Maeve. I know they helped me, and they helped you when we needed it. But I’ve kind of lost my faith in the goodness of humanity. So I’m also sure they did it for a reason.”
“Any idea what it is?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Great. Well, then I guess we trust them until we can’t.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CENTERVILLE, UTAH
Last night Norah had called Sanders to let him know she’d put in a request for a few days off. This morning, he’d called while she was in the shower to let her know she’d been granted three days with more if she really needed it.
Norah lowered her phone after deleting the message. She had three days, including the weekend. That meant she had five days to track down Leander. Sanders had mentioned that Bob called him the night before to support her request, which was probably the only reason the request had been granted. According to Sanders, Bob believed Norah to be on the edge of the Bubonic plague.
She looked down at Iggy, who sat next to her, finishing up his egg sandwich. “Enjoyed that, huh?” she asked.
He swallowed the last bite and nodded.
“Well, I got you a little treat.” She pulled over the second bag she’d bought this morning. “Not sure if you’ll like them, but on our planet people really like them.” Opening the bag, she handed Iggy a sugar donut. He took it carefully, sniffing it first. His eyes grew large, and then he took a tentative bite. His head whipped to Norah before he gobbled the donut up.
Norah laughed at the look of rapture on the little guy’s face. She handed him a second one and he took it quickly as she crumpled the bag. He stopped at the noise and looked at Norah. Then he looked down at the donut and broke it in half, handing half back to Norah.
Touched, Norah took it. “Thank you.”
He gave her another one of those small smiles and then ate his half. She stood up after she finished hers. She paused, staring down at him. “All right, my little friend. You and I are going to take a little drive today.”
He tilted his head. “Ig?”
She sighed. “Yup. Ig.” She grabbed her wallet and keys. “There’s a car rental place down the street. I rented a car last night, but I have to go pick it up.” She paused. “I don’t know why I’m explaining this all to you because I’m pretty sure you have no idea what I’m saying.”
Iggy nodded. “Ig.”
She smiled, turning on the TV, which was still tuned to the Disney channel. “I’ll be back in a little bit. You stay here and keep quiet, okay?”
Iggy tilted his head to the side. “Ig?”
“Right, Ig.” She grabbed her bag, slung her jacket over her shoulder, and opened the door. Bob stood there with one hand up in the air like he was about to knock.
Norah’s pulse raced. Oh shit. “Hey.” She shut the door quickly behind her and prayed Iggy had been out of sight.
Bob frowned. “Where are you going?”
Norah forced her shoulders to slump and her voice to become weaker. “Drugstore.”
“Right. Well.” He glanced back at the door, where the sound of the TV could be heard. “Is there somebody in there?”
“No, just me and the TV. Oh, and I was on the phone with my mom.”
“Oh, okay.” He frowned. “Um, you don’t want me to drive you or something, do you?”
Gee, how gracious. “No, it’s okay. I, um, rented a car. I’m going to walk down and pick it up. I’m hoping the walk clears my head a little bit. You heading back?”
“Yeah, I was just about to get on the road.”
Norah started to head for the street. “Have a good ride back.”
Bob hesitated, looking back at the door.
“Bob?”
He turned and followed her. “Yeah, well, careful driving, being sick and all.”
“Yeah, thanks. You, too.” She headed out of the parking lot. When she reached the main street, she checked on Bob. He was now at his car door. He cracked it open, but paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked back toward Norah’s room.
Norah’s breath caught and time seemed to stand still. Get in the car, Bob. As if hearing her, he opened the door, and a few seconds later was reversing out of the spot.
Norah hurried down the street. Bob drove past a minute later with a honk of the horn and a wave. As Norah waved back, she let out a sigh of relief.
He’s gone. He doesn’t suspect anything. You’re being paranoid. But she didn’t like how Bob had looked at her motel door, and she found herself walking just a little bit faster.
CHAPTER FORTY
OUTSIDE THE ARCHES, UTAH
Maeve had slept like the dead. In fact, she was the last one up. When she opened her eyes she had a moment of panic when she realized she was alone in the room. But then she heard Greg’s voice from down the hall. “Okay, you monsters, that’s it. No more Fruit Loops.”
Maeve smiled and gave herself a moment to gather herself before she headed to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, taking in the scene.
Greg sat at the table, pouring milk into bowls for Snap and Crackle. Tilda was there, too, Pop sitting in her lap as Tilda handed him a piece of toast. Hope lay under the table, hoping to catch any crumbs.
Alvie wasn’t there, so she immediately called out to him. She felt the flutter of his response back at her and knew he was all right.
Greg looked up and caught sight of her. “Thank God. They’re killing me,” he declared dramatically.
Tilda smiled. “Not me. I will take this kind of breakfast routine any day of the week. Coffee’s on the counter.”
“Ah, nectar of the gods,” Maeve said as she headed for the pot. Snap hugged her legs just as she reached it. Maeve opened her arms and she leapt up. Maeve hugged her tight. Crackle and Pop quickly made their way over to her and demanded the same treatment. Every morning started with hugs. A vision of green grass and trees appeared in her mind. “You guys want to go outside?”
The triplets nodded back at her and Hope jumped around excitedly.
Maeve looked at Tilda. “Is it safe for them out there?”
“Oh, yes. Adam and Alvie are already out there.”
“Okay. Go on.” Without a backward glance, the four of them headed for the back door.
When they’d disappeared, Maeve turned to watch them through the kitchen window. The triplets scattered into the yard as Adam stepped out from the trees, Alvie perched on his shoulders. Maeve’s mouth dropped open. She’d never seen Alvie take to someone so quickly. But if he thought Adam could be trusted, that said a lot about Tilda’s quiet grandson.
Maeve took a sip of her coffee as Tilda joined her at the window. “You’ve truly done an amazing job with them. They’re so well adjusted, it’s shocking.”
“They are amazing little people.”
“Yes, they are,” Tilda said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for a run.”
Maeve turned to her. “I thought you were going to answer questions this morning.”
“I am. But something has popped up that I think you may want to see first. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Tilda headed out of the kitchen.
Maeve turned to Greg. “Hours?”
Greg grinned. “Apparently Tilda likes to compete in Ironman triathlons whenever she can.”
Ironman triathlons involved running twenty-six point two miles, biking one hundred twelve miles, and swimming two point four miles. Maeve looked toward the doorway where Tilda had disappeared. “Suddenly I feel very out of shape. Are we sure sh
e’s human? Because most older women I’ve met are not running triathlons.”
“Except for the Iron Nun.”
Maeve took a seat at the table. “Is that a superhero?”
“Sort of. Her real name is Sister Madonna Buder. She started running at age forty-six and has completed nearly fifty Ironman triathlons since then.”
“Wait, fifty? How old is this nun?”
“Eighty-six. And she’s still competing in them.”
“And now I feel like a lazy sloth,” Maeve muttered.
“You and me both, sister. But we have some academic muscle to flex.” He patted the laptop on the table. “Tilda got some files after she got back from her bike ride this morning.”
“She’s already gone for a ride?”
“Yup. Guess the woman doesn’t sleep much. Anyway, when she got back, she had an email with a huge attachment she wants us to read.”
“What is it?”
“Files. All the files on the research from 51.”
“All of it?”
“Or at least a lot of it.” Greg paused. “How old do you think she is?”
“Tilda?”
“Yeah. I mean I was thinking maybe sixties. But if she’s running triathlons, I don’t know.”
“She’s seventy-two,” Adam said as he walked in through the back door.
Maeve whirled around. “Seventy-two? I knew she was tough, but, wow.”
Adam said nothing, just filled up his coffee mug and headed back out, sunglasses still on.
Greg stared at the closed door. “That guy is really strange.”
“Have you ever seen his eyes?”
“Nope. Tilda said something about him being really sensitive to light.”
“Huh,” Maeve said, staring at the closed door, her mind spinning. What an unusual family.
Then she shook her head, turning back to the laptops. “Well, let’s get to work.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The wind ruffled Maeve’s hair. She pushed a stray lock back behind her ear as she looked up from the laptop screen. She smiled as she watched Snap and Crackle scamper up a tree and tried not to wince as Pop leapt from one tree to another, following Alvie. Hope ran between the two trees, barking and whining at being left out of the fun.
