A single tear fell down her cheek. She cared about Kane. She’d always valued that she could remove herself emotionally from her work, but this time had been different.
She stood up and paced her lab. What could she do? She couldn't hide him or take him to his daughter. How would this woman respond if Stephanie showed up on her doorstep with a dying contagious man and said, "Hey, Maggie, I worked with your dad. Uh, yeah, the one that didn't work and that I don't think you ever met. Well, anyway, I've given him a highly contagious influenza that I can't cure yet. Do you mind taking care of him until I figure it out?"
She wasn't even sure she had it in her to give the letter to Maggie. Again, she imagined herself on Maggie's doorstep trying to answer awkward questions. Maggie would ask something like, "How did you know my dad?" And what would Stephanie say in response? "Oh, I just did some experiment on him without fully explaining what I was going to do first and then my company murdered him."
But it was her job. She'd agreed to it and known the consequences. She was a professional so she could handle it. And he had known it was a possibility, which is why he wrote the damn letter.
She sat back down at her tiny desk. It had been a month into the experiment when Stephanie read Kane's personal letter the first time. Kane was going through withdrawal from cocaine, and it was a particularly painful time for him. His muscles ached and cramped. He'd screamed incessantly whenever he wasn't sedated. He threw up constantly. Stephanie had thought the smell of his bile was going to be permanent in the lab. By the time she'd clean it up, he'd throw up again. When the vomiting had stopped, he dry-heaved for days. He didn't know she was healing him only to make him sicker. She'd told herself it'd be worth it; she'd give him the influenza strain she'd created to be a biological weapon, and then give him the vaccine. It would work, and she'd be celebrated—perhaps even invited to the CEO's house for dinner. After all, the tests had worked on the mice and rabbits. Even the AI program had demonstrated the vaccine would work in human trials. It was all going to be perfect and she’d have achieved a huge accomplishment at the very beginning of her career.
She never considered the possibility of it not working. Imagining such things was the first step toward failure and defeat. But the biggest problem she didn't plan for was how much she would grow to care for Kane. She opened the letter to read it again, even though it was so simple and short that she'd already memorized it.
Maggie,
I was a shit dad. I'm sorry I ran out on you and your momma. I can't defend myself, other than I thought you'd be better without me. At least I can give you this.
Your Daddy
She folded the letter again. Stephanie had never been as selfless as Kane was in this single act. Everything she'd done, she'd done for herself. She didn't even date because she had more important goals for her life. She didn't have time to give to anyone else. She didn't even have a cat. Or a plant.
It was now 2 p.m., she realized, and she hadn't had anything to eat or drink that day and a bad case of brain fog was forming. She took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and located the vending machine. She scanned her card and pushed a button, and a pack of pop tarts fell to the bottom. Thankfully, there was also a massive coffee machine on the floor that brewed by the cup. She helped herself to a double expresso and headed back to her lab, trying to accept that she'd have to send the reports soon and say goodbye.
When she entered the lab, Kane was gone. Her heart thudded. She spun to run out of the room, accidently spilling the expresso across her keyboard. Running out into the hall, she forced herself to think. The only place they could possibly take Kane would be the containment room, where all the failed experiments were terminated.
The containment room was below the basement level. Only high-level security clearance could get on that floor, so she went straight to Todd's office. He wasn't there, but she knew he rarely wore his badge around the office. She rushed to the other side of his desk to look for it, but his desk was empty as usual. She pulled open his middle drawer, but only saw pens and his glass tablet. She rummaged through his side drawers but still didn’t find it.
Taking a deep and aggravated breath, she turned to leave, and as she did, her foot hit something soft. Looking down, she saw his briefcase with his badge dangling off the side. She ripped the badge off the shoulder strap and headed for the elevator. As she pushed the down button, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"How are you on those reports?" Stephanie turned, keeping Todd’s stoic picture on his badge turned into her person. Todd stood outside of the unisex restroom, still drying his hands on a paper towel.
"Just writing the brief and then I’ll send them over," she replied.
He nodded his head and turned toward his office. She hit the down button three more times and then tried to act normal, focusing on her breathing. As soon as the doors opened, she rushed inside, clicking SB for the subbasement level and waving the badge in front of the card reader frantically. She held her breath as the elevator went down.
The doors opened to an empty dark-gray hallway. No guards were running toward her, and there were no alarms indicating that Todd had noticed his badge was missing. She ran up and down the dim, windowless corridor until she saw large glass doors and Kane struggling weakly against restraints that secured him to a gurney.
Stephanie pushed her way through the glass doors. The intelligence wall flashed information that she no longer gave two cents about, and her attention was fully on the sick man. Kane looked at her with sad eyes. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn't say a thing, which she took to mean he'd accepted his fate.
Running over, Stephanie put her hand on his head and looked into his brown eyes. There was no way she'd turn her back on him. She had to help him, no matter the cost.
But then, Clint entered the room. He was the containment guy—the guy without a heart. He’d retrieved one experiment after another, bringing them all down here for annihilation, always smiling. He was a real in-the-flesh monster.
"What are you doing here?" Clint asked, looking pious in his white coat and perfectly gelled hair.
"What are you going to do to him?"
"You know what I’m going to do. We have no choice, Steph."
"It's inhuman. We can't make these kinds of choices!"
"Actually, we can. We have to. Sacrifices like these have always been made for the betterment of society. We still use medical science today that was founded during World War II on unwilling subjects. At least ours signed up for it. They want to help society." Clint walked over to the edge of Kane's bed and added, "Don't you?"
Kane closed his eyes and looked away from Clint.
"It's not . . ." Stephanie tried to swallow but couldn't. She couldn't even finish her sentence.
"Look, Steph." Clint walked over to her. "We all came here voluntarily. Even Kane volunteered. And now, there is nothing else we can do for him. This is all in the name of science."
"You mean in the name of X-Over! Kane is a human; you can't just kill him!"
Kane turned his head to look at her. "It’s okay, darlin’."
"Oh, I see; you two have grown to care about each other. Look, you don't think you're the first little fresh college girl to come down here to save someone, do you?" Clint laughed. "Are you going to take him home and keep him as your pet?" He laughed again, shoving her to the side.
Then something came over her. A hatred toward X-Over. A hatred toward Clint. A hatred of herself that she'd always done what was expected of her. That she’d actually thought this job was more important than anything else. She shoved Clint back and then moved herself to block him from Kane. "We take care of him until we figure this out!"
Clint put his hands on his hips and hung his head. Cutting his eyes up at her, he said, "You knew this day may come, Steph. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm not even the one that gave him the damn disease. Think about that."
Stephanie blushed. Clint was right; she had done this to Kane. She'd been
selfish. Tears collected in Stephanie's eyes as she fell back against the gurney. She bent over as guilt consumed her stomach and made her feel queasy. That's when she noticed the tray of medical tools next to Kane.
She grabbed the surgical scissors and lunged at Clint. When her fist rammed into his chest, there was a heavy thud, and it felt like she was like hitting solid brick. He looked down at the scissors protruding out of his torso and then up at her, his expression one of disbelief. Time seemed to stop. Then he let out a cough, and with it, a little blood.
"You punctured my lung," he whispered as he backed up into the wall and slid down to the floor.
Seizing the moment, Stephanie ripped the keys that hung from Clint's lab coat. She then rushed to the gurney to release Kane from his shackles. Kane looked up at her and shook his head.
"Ya need ta run," he said in a soft voice.
Then she heard a voice behind her. She spun and saw Clint talking into his cell phone. She kicked his arm and the phone slid across the floor. Then she returned her attention to Kane.
"Get out before dey get cha." He must have put all his energy into those words because even his voice sounded like death.
"I can save you!" Tears fell down her face.
"It's too late, hun." The words barely escaped his lips. His body relaxed on the gurney indicating all of his energy was drained.
What have I done? How could I have done this to him?
The doors slid open behind her, and when she turned, the security team had tasers aimed directly at her. Before Stephanie could react, she was lying on the floor, convulsing and unable to move. They flipped her over like she was a rag doll and forced her arms behind her, cuffing her with plastic zip ties.
She demanded her release as they dragged her down the hall. When they yanked her through a thick metal door, she tried with all her might to pull her arms free. They never said a word.
The tunnel dove down deeper into the ground, alternating between dim light and darkness as sparse light bulbs dangled from a single wire. There was no way of knowing which way they were taking her without any windows or sounds from the city outside.
She screamed when they forced her into what looked like a burned building. There were charred posts laying on the ground, which was covered in rubble. And part of the roof, several floors above, was partially missing. Dusk was setting and the city lights seemed so close but so far from everything she knew. They’d brought her to what used to be the projects, the only place in New York City without people.
She pleaded for mercy when they lifted her arms and hung them by the plastic ties to one of the few remaining intact walls, but they said nothing.
That night, the itching was wretched, unbearable. By morning, her arms were numb, and she'd urinated on herself. She regretted ever wanting this career, ever stepping foot into the building.
By the second day, Stephanie had lost her voice from screaming. She mourned Kane, knowing he must be dead and that nothing she’d done had ever meant anything.
By the third day, she realized she had wanted children and that she’d never get the chance. She’d never even get to say goodbye to her own mom and apologize for judging her so harshly. There was a lot she wanted to do and say, and people she wanted to see, but it was too late.
~
Emily in Human Resources processed Stephanie’s termination paperwork and immediately shared a job opening notification on the company’s social media sites. She didn’t even bother posting the position on any staffing platforms. So many people wanted to work at X-Over that she’d have fifty applicants by lunch.
Todd had a quick thirty-minute meeting to pass the experiment’s notes off to Clint, who smiled from ear to ear. Clint had been itching to take over the challenge, ready to provide the military with anything they desired.
"You going to the dinner this weekend?" Clint had asked before leaving Todd’s office.
Todd offered a thin smile in response, immediately returning his gaze to his computer screen. To Clint that meant Todd’s answer was "Nope." And that was good news to Clint; if all went according to plan, he’d have Todd’s position soon.
On the fourth day, a teenage urban explorer found a body in an abandoned building. The body was tied to a hook by plastic cuffs. There were no fingerprints or footprints from the person or persons who put her there, and no one had reported seeing anything. The body was a young female. She was wearing a skirt and blouse, her long hair fell down her back, and her shoes were missing. They'd put together a sketch and circulated it, but no one recognized her. After a month, the case went into the cold-case drawer at the bottom of Lieutenant James' desk. It was the third body found that year in similar circumstances without any leads.
THE HABITUAL HUMANITY SERIES HAS BEGUN
The year is 2069.
Unemployment is high.
To obtain his citizen score, August joins the Navy. It's his only choice.
Everything takes a turn for the worst when he's assigned to the Wastebasket, a land previously known as North Korea. It's now the world's largest trash dump and its inhabitants were left to survive on their own.
Wastebasket begins the journey into the dystopian world that is Habitual Humanity.
Get Wastebasket now to join August on his ominous journey through an abandoned country.
CLICK HERE TO BUY WASTEBASKET
HABITUAL HUMANITY RESOURCES
If you’d like to dig deeper into the world that is Habitual Humanity, there are resources available at Creativity Untamed. Follow these links to explore the Habitual Humanity glossary and map.
https://www.creativityuntamed.com/habitual-humanity-glossary
https://www.creativityuntamed.com/habitual-humanity-maps
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
The Habitual Humanity series (HH) explores the implications of scientific discoveries today within the future of a dystopian America. HH will include eight novellas and two spinoff novels. Several of the characters you’re meeting now will be explored in more detail later.
I hope you’re enjoying your journey into absurdity. If you are, or even if you’re not, please let me know. I’d love to hear from you. You can reach me at [email protected].
A X-OVER EXPERIMENT (A Cross-Over Experiment) Page 2
