In The Defendant's Chair

by Lynn Moon

  “But,” Charlotte started then stopped.

  “But what sweetie?”

  “But why don’t you have wings like me?” Charlotte asked.

  “I don’t know,” the woman answered. “I can only assume it’s because of the altering of your genetics. How you have wings, we have no idea. But you are our granddaughter. You belong here with us. If you’ll have us?”

  Charlotte glanced around the small but comfortable room. She was frightened and curious at the same time. She thought of her room back at the castle and wanted to be there right now.

  “Where would I sleep?” Charlotte asked.

  “We have a room for you,” Charlie replied. “Come, I’ll show you.”

  Charlotte followed Charlie down the short hallway. The thick carpet under her feet felt warm and soft. A small kitchen off the living room was neat and tidy. She counted four bedrooms. One small bathroom with pretty yellow walls was across from her room. She smiled when she saw a window framed with pink and yellow fluffy curtains. Her eyes widened when she saw the single canopy-bed with matching drapes. Dolls and books filled the shelves of a built-in bookcase. The rug beneath her feet was even more soft and warm than in the hallway.

  “Well?” Charlie asked.

  “Is this my room?”

  “Yep, if you want it.”

  Charlotte glanced around her new room and smiled at Charlie. Her heart pounded and her head was spinning. The room was nice and warm and the people seemed so friendly, but something was bothering her… something just wasn’t right.

  * * * * * *

  Constable Fahey paced his office. Nestle being in town could only mean one thing—trouble. And why were they hiding the woman general the US government was looking for? People just don’t disappear off the face of the Earth, or for that matter from inside a castle. Something was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Reaching for a cigarette, a thought flashed through his mind. He had to get back inside the castle.

  “Henley, get in here.”

  “Yes sir,” a young man replied running into Fahey’s office.

  “I’m tired of being afraid,” Fahey said. “You hear me, tired.”

  “Yes sir, tired sir,” the man repeated.

  “Well I am,” Fahey said gathering his thoughts, “tired.”

  * * * * * *

  Constable Fahey stared into the dark eyes. His heart pounded and sweat dripped down his face. With his hands tied behind his back, he had no other choice but to endure the salty sting.

  “Tell me, Constable,” Roland Nestle said pulling a small chair under him. “Why do you always do this to yourself… to me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You just can’t help yourself can you?”

  “I said, I like the drinks here,” the Constable replied with a half smile.

  “Well you can have as much as you want, after you tell us why you have the need to continuously spy on us.”

  “I’m not spying,” the Constable defended.

  “Then what else explains why you’re hiding in our bushes all the time?” Nestle asked. “People don’t hide in bushes unless there’s a reason. Especially if they only want a drink. They come inside. Do they not, Constable?”

  The Constable nodded his head. He knew he was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do about it. As Nestle asked the questions, an older man with long graying hair entered the room with a syringe filled with a greenish liquid.

  “My night cap I suppose,” Fahey whispered.

  “I always said you were a smart man,” Nestle replied.

  “Were?” Fahey asked as Nestle shot the warm green liquid into Fahey’s arm.

  “Yes,” Nestle stated holding the empty syringe in front of Fahey’s eyes, “were.”

  “Well, good night then,” Fahey mumbled falling into an empty darkness.

  “You mean goodbye,” Nestle added.

  Chapter 72

  DRAKE STOOD IN front of the research facility in Washington. The building was huge with large tinted windows. It looked out of place in the heavily forested mountain terrain. Over ten stories of glass and concrete greeted him with a cold and starch facade. Just standing in front of the huge structure gave Drake an eerie and foreboding feeling of doom.

  “Lost?” a young lady asked from behind.

  “Oh my.” Drake exhaled. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  “I’m sorry.” Tyler giggled. “I’m Dr. Brighten, people call me Tyler.”

  “Nice to meet you, Doctor,” Drake said shaking her hand.

  “Again, lost?”

  “Well, perhaps you can help me,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m here to see a doctor and maybe you can direct me,” he said hoping for a break.

  “Well I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Tyler?”

  Tyler turned and grinned as Caiden hurried toward them.

  “This is my partner Dr. Harding,” Tyler said. “This is… I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

  “Sorry, Drake Anderson.”

  “What’s going on?” Caiden asked.

  “Not sure,” Tyler added.

  “I’m here on business,” Drake answered.

  “I see, and what business is that?” Caiden asked.

  Not sure how others would respond to him bringing up the recent murders, he tilted his head and sighed. But he couldn’t just stand there looking crazy. With nothing to lose, Drake said, “Have you heard about the women who woke up in court with no memory of murdering their families? Well… I’m the lawyer for the first one, Early Sutton. She’s innocent and I’m going to prove it.” Drake lowered his head and waited for a response.

  “And you need a doctor because?” Tyler asked.

  “I don’t believe we can help you, Mr. Anderson,” Caiden said.

  Tyler rolled her eyes and continued where she left off. “How can we possibly help?”

  “My client was impregnated by invetro fertilization. I’ve traced the doctors who did the procedure to this place. This is my last hope,” Drake said not raising his head.

  “We can’t help you,” Caiden added.

  Drake looked up at Caiden and frowned. His last lead was going nowhere. “I see. But if you should change your mind… think of anything, I’m staying at the Wayside Inn on the main highway.” He handed Tyler his card.

  “No one here can help you, and if you know what’s best you’ll be on the next flight out of town,” Caiden replied.

  Caiden grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled her into the building. As they entered, Tyler glanced back and watched as Drake walked toward the parking lot. He looked lost and alone.

  * * * * * *

  Tyler re-read the reports for the fifth time. The words blared out at her. After wiping her eyes, she re-read the words again not believe what she was seeing. Tyler tossed the papers aside and rubbed her face. She yelled, but no words came out, just a high-pitched screech. She rubbed her face again.

  “What in the world is the problem?” Caiden asked, turning to get a better look. “Are you okay?”

  “No I’m not!” she yelled. “I’m not fucking okay.”

  “Wow, such language,” he scolded. “Let me see what you’re looking at.”

  With shaking hands and sweat running down her temples, Tyler handed Caiden the report. He read over the words and numbers and shook his head.

  “This cannot be.”

  “But it is,” she replied.

  They stared into each other’s eyes, neither wanting to give in to the other’s beliefs. Tyler blinked and Caiden froze.

  “This cannot be,” he whispered.

  “But it is. RNA strands are continually made, broken down and reused. No one could possibly survive, much less flourish. Any unknown RNA or DNA entering the body would be destroyed, and the UV rays, my God the implications,” Tyler whispered scratching her head.

  “So we’re back to whispering, are we?” he asked with a wink.

&nb
sp; Ignoring his comment, Tyler continued, “This is a blood sample from a young girl. About six, I believe.”

  “She must be very ill,” Caiden added.

  “I don’t know, but how can a human be alive with RNA strands instead of DNA? That’s impossible isn’t it?”

  “Obviously not,” he answered. “What were you supposed to test on this sample?”

  “Deoxyribose and ribose sugar levels,” she replied.

  “But you ran tests on everything else. Why?”

  “Because only ribose sugar was detected,” she said with a frown.

  “Then this person can’t be alive,” Caiden replied. “You must be testing samples from a dead person.”

  “Nope, this child’s alive. Here’s her chart.” Tyler handed Caiden the file who scanned the words.

  “You know what, Caiden, this crap scares the shit out of me.”

  “That’s not what concerns me,” he answered. “How this person came to be… now that does.”

  Chapter 73

  LOOMSBURY SAT SILENTLY as Gabe’s mother was briefed by an internal agent. He watched as she listened with confusion written all over her face. He waited a few minutes before he decided it was time to step in and help out.

  “Excuse me,” Loomsbury said standing behind the agent. “I believe you’ve confused them enough. Allow me to take it from here.”

  The agent nodded and left the room. With not much else to do, Loomsbury smiled at the two very frightened people.

  “We’re here to help. I’m sure this is puzzling, but please believe me when I say we’re here to ensure your safety. It’s obvious someone wants you out of the picture, whatever that picture may be.”

  “Maybe I can help,” Lafie said. “Perhaps if I…”

  “You really don’t have to say anything.”

  “You’re a doctor, you’ll figure it out anyway,” Lafie said with a strange smile.

  “I’m listening,” Loomsbury replied anxious to hear her story.

  “I’m ninety-three. My son is twelve, he’ll be thirteen in about six weeks. I worked for the Warrington Mental Hospital until a few weeks ago when it…”

  “Exploded?” Loomsbury added.

  “Yes, until it was destroyed,” she said with a frown. “My son’s an invetro baby. Mine and the head scientist at the facility. We fell in love and decided to give it a go. However, Gabe’s DNA strand was upgraded a little.”

  “You mean with owl DNA?”

  “Yes, but only for his eyes. It worked, the downfall is Gabe has a hard time seeing in daylight. His vision is much better at night. We didn’t realize it would destroy his day vision. Otherwise, he’s normal in every way.”

  “Interesting,” Loomsbury said.

  “The doctors and scientists were experimenting with other DNA splicing besides Gabe’s. Such as to lengthen lifespan, re-grow limbs, along with other things. At times I felt they were trying to play God.”

  “But who wanted to shut everything down?” Loomsbury asked.

  “Those who funded the facility. The more the scientists and doctors pushed the DNA, the stranger the babies. Some had terrible deformities, living only a few hours after being born. Some of the pregnancies had to be terminated. The whole experiment was going wrong. It seemed as though nature was trying to stop them. As the babies aged something had to be done because the abnormalities started to show, and on a few, it was bad… really bad. Many were uncontrollable, bad tempers, wild even; they had to be caged, or put to sleep. They aged faster than regular children. Gabe’s twelve? Not really, he’s only four.”

  Loomsbury gasped and sat back in his chair. Lafie nodded her head. Her grin was evil.

  “Within a few years they reached adulthood. The facility was becoming over-crowded. It was decided the hospital and all the subjects had to be destroyed, for the betterment of mankind—if you can believe that story. Gabe’s father and I didn’t want anything to happen to him. We never told anyone about his special eyesight. Everyone thought he was a normal child. But since I knew what they were doing, I was a risk. My genes had been upgraded with a virus. My aging process was reversed—well, slowed because I’ve not aged a day since my last treatment. That was about ten years ago.”

  Loomsbury rubbed his eyes and forehead. Shaking his head and sighing, he asked, “So they killed everyone in the facility?”

  “Not the scientists or doctors. They transferred them. I didn’t wish to go. I was over it, tired of the whole thing. When they killed those poor people, we hid and prayed they’d leave us alone.”

  “But they didn’t,” Loomsbury added.

  “No they did not,” Lafie said with a tear in her eye.

  “The people who funded the facility, do you have any information on them?”

  “Not really, only that their research goes way back… for centuries from what I understand. But I do know they’re a very powerful and rich group.”

  “They’d have to be in order to keep all of this a secret.” Loomsbury said.

  * * * * * *

  Gabe had never spoken to so many people before—this was something exciting and entertaining. With a large grin, he studied each person with a profound purpose that showed in his eyes. After a long silence, he spoke. “So are you going to ask me some questions, take my blood, or just sit there and gawk at me?”

  “Excuse me?” It was a young woman.

  “We’ve been here for almost an hour and you’re not saying anything.”

  A young woman in the front spoke up. “But neither are you.”

  “You invited me remember?” Gabe stated.

  The scientists smiled as they watched Gabe.

  “Are you really part owl?” a young man finally asked.

  “Uh, no,” Gabe replied.

  “But you can see in the dark,” another woman stated. “And we can’t.”

  “So? I can stand and pee and you can’t,” Gabe replied.

  Several of the scientists laughed.

  “Who told you I was part owl?” Gabe asked.

  “It’s in your DNA,” a man answered. “Didn’t you know?”

  Gabe studied the people with an unsteady stare. It was obvious they just told him something he didn’t know. But his expression soon changed to enlightenment.

  “Well, that explains a lot doesn’t it?” Gabe asked. “Everything makes a lot more sense now.”

  “What does?” a man asked.

  “My life,” Gabe replied with a grin. “And how I can lay real eggs.”

  “You can lay an egg?” a male voice asked from the back of the room.

  Gabe laughed. “Of course I can’t and since when does a male bird lay eggs anyway? Are you sure you people know what you’re doing? Are you really scientists?”

  Dr. Leonora Priddleton giggled. Gabe hadn’t noticed her standing near the door.

  “All right, enough of the jokes,” she said. “Let’s get down to business?”

  Gabe stared at the young girl who approached wearing a long white lab coat and holding a clipboard.

  “What exactly can you do?” Priddleton asked with a smile.

  “Nothing impressive,” Gabe replied squinting his eyes.

  Chapter 74

  THE GROUP OF men stared blankly at the speakerphone. Only the large oak table and chairs decorated the large granite-lined room. Nestle’s nerves were about to explode. He counted in his head to ensure his composure remained calm and under control.

  “I have Dr. Spangleholtz and Dr. Geeshmore on the line sir,” the voice announced through the speakers.

  “Vernon? Eugene? So glad you could join,” Nestle stated.

  “Yes sir,” Geeshmore announced.

  “Thank you,” Spangleholtz added.

  “How’s the newest little one? I do hope she’s getting along fine. I heard she had an illness?” Nestle asked.

  “Yes,” Spangleholtz replied. “A little infection but she’s fine now.”

  “Good, good,” Nestle said. “We have a slight problem and I
was hoping you two could help.”

  The incoming line became quiet.

  “There’s been a lot of information on the news lately. Perhaps, Vernon, your idea of how to handle the mothers wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  The incoming line remained quiet.

  “My statement was meant for you, Vernon,” Nestle added.

  “Sir, it was the only way,” Geeshmore said in his defense. “If I remember correctly it was agreed by everyone that the children would be better off if raised in a facility. Unless we planned on indoctrinating each mother.”

  “But now we have the courts involved and the local law and worse, the press. What are you going to do about it?”

  The incoming line became silent again.

  “That was a question for both of you. Eugene, I didn’t like the article in the New York Times a few weeks back. To me, that leak is proof of a reckless disregard of protocols.”

  Again, no sound came through the speaker.

  “I see,” Dr. Nestle said with anger rising in his voice. “Gentlemen, we have some problems and they need to be corrected immediately. Our society was created to advance the medical and scientific field in regards to enhancing the human race—to evolve it to a higher physical level. We’ve been around since the days before Jesus Christ. I will not stand by and watch our organization falter. I’m demanding some action, here and now. I’m looking at all of you who sit around this table as well as you two on the phone for answers. I do not wish to have to say this again. Fix the goddamn problems!”

  Chapter 75

  IT FELT GOOD to be home with her daughters. But at the same time, Marty felt sick and disgusted with herself. She reached for her purse and pulled out her wallet. She flipped through the pictures until she found one of David. Tears filled her eyes as the realization of his death hit her.

  “Why?” she cried. “Why?”

  Everything flooded through her mind at once—the birth, his death, the sudden move to this place. But through it all, not one ounce of remorse or loss did she feel. It wasn’t right. Her husband of twelve years died and not one tear did she shed for him… until now.