Stargazer Page 10

  “It was taken to a lab in Quadrant 13.”

  “Is this the same Quadrant that Drs. Jamison and Keller tortured me with poison?”

  “It is the same Quadrant but a different lab.”

  “And what did Drs. Hinder and Goode do to the infant?”

  “Please, don’t do this!” begged John.

  “Quiet!” I admonished him with a snarl.

  He backed away, scared. Loren’s face was pale, nervous. Henrietta looked at Medusa with curiosity, nothing more—no feeling of a mother who had lost her child.

  “Dr. Elliott Hinder administered a growth hormone to the fetus. Dr. John Goode objected but was overruled. The fetus grew rapidly and became unstable. As an adult, half-Stargazer, half-human, it was considered ‘wild,’ and could not communicate either in Stellar or English. It had several deformities which Dr. Elliot Hinder contributed to the cross of the DNA, but Dr. John Goode contributed to the accelerated growth hormone. Again, Dr. John Goode was overruled. When it became apparent that the ‘mutant,’ as it was called was unstable, it was determined to terminate the subject.”

  “What do you mean by ‘unstable’?”

  “The subject was aggressive.”

  “Who terminated him?”

  “Dr. John Goode presided over the subject’s death. Would you like to see the footage?”

  I shivered. “No, I don’t. Thank you, Medusa, that’s all for now.”

  She disappeared and I looked at John. Tears were forming in his eyes. I wanted to cry too, but I remembered what he did to me when I first arrived.

  “Did you put a Separator in my head?”

  He stood up quickly, as if he wanted to flee from me, but only walked a few paces to a black rectangle on the wall—a window I was forbidden to see out of.

  Finally, he turned to me and said softly, “It is standard procedure.”

  “What damage did it do to my brain?”

  “None, none, it merely separates sections of the brain—completely harmless. I had it performed on me.”

  I was shocked. “You did?”

  “When I was ordered to do it, I wanted to know if it was indeed harmless. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  He looked at me with such sorrowful blue eyes like the deep ocean I swam in once upon a time.

  I sighed. “I forgive you.” I didn’t know why I was so weak in that respect, but I was.

  He rushed back to the table, but stayed on the other side, still cautious. “You do?”

  I nodded. “Yes, and even though Henrietta can’t or won’t show any kind of emotion for the pain of losing her child, I forgive you for that too. You’re a better man than that Dr. Hinder. How did he die?”

  “It was by drowning.”

  “You have water nearby?”

  “Yes, this is Sanctuary. Citizens are allowed to swim in the pools and other sources of water, but Dr. Hinder went too far. He was pulled under the water and was found the next day on the shore, dead.”

  “Isn’t Medusa a first responder? Why didn’t she alert someone?”

  “Dr. Hinder received special permission to go outside the boundaries of Medusa’s surveillance.”

  “So, there are boundaries within Sanctuary? Medusa isn’t all-seeing?”

  He just nodded.

  Loren reached his hand across the table. His blond hair was unkempt. He looked very handsome and I was tempted to touch him, but I remembered his betrayal.

  My hand slipped away from his. “You recommended I sleep in Victor’s bed to have him spy on me while I dreamed?”

  He hesitated, but then replied, “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Believe me I did it for your own good. It had been on the agenda to monitor your sleep, hoping you would talk, reveal something, but in all the locations you had been, you barely slept, and when you did, you never spoke a word. I thought that if you were comfortable in a warm bed, sleep, REM, and dreams would come more easily to you.”

  “You wanted them to find out about me? About whatever secrets I held?”

  “They were going to do a more…extreme procedure. I thought this was the more acceptable method.”

  “What ‘extreme’ procedure?”

  “It was suggested to use electric shocks.”

  I had a vision of electricity buzzing, snapping, and popping inside my head. I shivered.

  “You see?” said Loren, recognizing my discomfort. “I spared you that. They were going to hook you up to machines while you were asleep and shock your brain, inducing REM and hopefully dreams to stimulate your mind, possessing your mouth to utter every secret they were eager to hear.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I took a sip of black coffee. It was cold, but I continued to drink until I had finished every last drop. Everyone stared at me. I still didn’t know what to say. I had jumped to the wrong conclusions about John and Loren. John tried to stop the experimentation upon the half-Stargazer, half-human baby, but Dr. Hinder proceeded. In the end, he was too much of a coward to end the life he had created. Yes, the baby was created by Henrietta and the Stargazer, but it was full of potential, good potential, and a life of knowledge and opportunity, but all that was snuffed out by Dr. Hinder and his desire to exploit the child to assess the adult. Did he know what the side effects would be? Did he even care? John had tried to intervene but in vain.

  I looked up at John. “How did you kill Henrietta’s child?”

  “It was painless,” he assured me. “A guard was brought in to kill him, but I objected. Guard weapons use a pulse of reverberating sound waves to disorient the victim, and then once the victim is down, another pulse, this time, a piercing sound, targeted to the ear drum is fired, causing not only pain, but an overcharge of frequency to the victim’s brain, where he or she can’t cope, eventually causing an explosion inside the head.” John took a breath in and out, and then continued. “I couldn’t see him go through that. He was already in pain from the extreme growth. I gave him an overdose of morphine and he died peacefully.”

  So many violent images ran through my mind. I cried as I saw each flash. The guard with his uncaring face, pointing his large gun on the full grown child, stunning him, and then going in for the final kill, knowing full well that his mind would literally explode; a life ended before it had even begun. John had killed the man-child, yes, but he did it the most humane way possible.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “I would do it again, too, even though I was almost transferred.”

  “What does it mean to be transferred? Victor was transferred, but no one will tell me where?”

  John and Loren exchanged a look. I feared John’s answer.

  “No one really knows exactly what being transferred means because anyone who’s been transferred was never seen again.”

  Even though I felt no deep love for Victor, my heart ached for him.

  “Is he dead?”

  “We don’t know,” replied Loren.

  “Can you find out?”

  “We tried,” he said, looking at John. “We asked Medusa, but of course, she wouldn’t divulge.” He nodded towards Henrietta with a sort of sneer. “I bet she knows.”

  “I don’t,” Henrietta said, defending herself. “President Pallas doesn’t tell me everything.”

  “Aren’t you his slave?” Loren asked.

  “Not in that manner.”

  “She reads poetry to him,” I informed Loren.

  Both he and John furrowed their brows at me, but said nothing. They thought it was strange just as I did that the Benevolent One, who acts more like the Supreme Dictator would enjoy poetry. Although, I wasn’t sure what kind of poetry it was.

  “Henrietta,” I began, “what does he like you to read to him?”

  “He enjoys ancient writings such as Emily Dickenson, Edgar Allan Poe, and Alfred Tennyson.”

  These names struck a chord with me, especially Poe.

  “Does he like ‘The Raven’?”

  She nodded.
“Yes, it’s his favorite.”

  I closed my eyes and thought of the shadow. “Once upon a midnight dreary…” I finished the rest of the first stanza and when I opened my eyes, all were staring at me.

  Loren leaned in close. “I didn’t know ancient Earth poems were familiar to Stargazers.”

  “I don’t think I am a Stargazer…but I’m not entirely human, am I?”

  John had his finger on his lip, thinking. “Well,” he began, “the Stargazers may have access to our archives.”

  “It’s possible, of course,” agreed Loren, “but we didn’t know the aliens were interested in poetry.”

  “Poetry defines a culture,” John conjectured. “And as in any fictional story, the author interjects his or her time period into the writing. It reflects history and the Stargazers would want to know all about human history.”

  “But do they appreciate the arts? Would they find Monet beautiful and Picasso strange?”

  John laughed. “I think you do.”

  Loren laughed too. “You’re right on that, although, I shouldn’t judge. In Sanctuary, there’s no art to speak of—only the statues and posters of our Dear Leader.”

  I sat there, silent, listening to them speak. They were so casual, so divulging. I was wondering when the guards were going to enter or the Red Woman, hauling us all off to the prison cells; or for Loren and John, being transferred to parts unknown, never to be seen again. I feared for Victor. I wanted to know where he was, even if he was dead. I wanted to see his headstone and lay flowers against it—to mourn his passing.

  “What’s wrong?” Loren asked me, the first to notice my melancholy.

  “Victor was a good friend to me, despite allowing Dr. Keller to inject that horrific poison into my body. But I forgave him. He’s sorry for what he’d done. I need to find him. I need to make sure he’s okay…and if he’s dead, I’d like to see his grave…to say goodbye.”

  “There are no graves in Sanctuary,” Henrietta said. “Everyone is burned.”

  “Where are the ashes? Is there a crematorium?”

  “No, no that’s not how it works,” said Loren, sad. He stood up and approached the wall, running his fingertips down the white paint. “Everything is recycled in Sanctuary—everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He placed his palm against the wall. “Human remains are burned and then added to the mortar when constructing a new building. This wall was made out of dead people.”

  “Why?” I asked, almost breathless.

  “We don’t mourn in Sanctuary,” said John, unable to meet my eyes. “It’s forbidden. Pallas believes that as a society we must move on past death in order to reach Utopia, and that everyone has a purpose in this grand future—even the dead—as they are encased in the very buildings we occupy.”

  I looked around the room, imagining faces pushing against the white paint, their mouths open, screaming to be put at rest—to have some dignity.

  I felt sick. The room started to spin. I would have fallen on the floor if Loren hadn’t caught me. We embraced as he held me to him. I couldn’t pull away; he had bonded to me.

  Chapter 9

  When I had some sense back, I asked, “You’re not afraid I’ll hurt you?”

  He smiled. “I can take it.”

  “Maybe I should bring her to the infirmary?” said John. “Check her out.”

  I looked over at John. I could tell he didn’t like Loren holding me and was trying to separate us. With everything going on, my imprisonment, my amnesia, and the fact that Victor could be dead, I wasn’t in the mood to rejoice at having two guys who desired me. Besides, I had another reason for wanting to see Loren.

  “Loren?” I began, “can we walk back to my cell, alone?”

  Loren smiled and said, “Sure.”

  “That has to be cleared,” spoke up Henrietta. “I’m her attendant.”

  John stepped forward. “She’s right, Loren.”

  I could tell that John would rather have Henrietta bonded to me than Loren.

  Loren sighed. “Medusa, I’m requesting permission to take…” He trailed off and looked at me. “You need a name. We can’t keep calling you ‘Stargazer,’ or ‘Anomaly,’ or ‘Alien.’”

  “Ava,” John whispered. “I’ve been thinking about that for some time,” he continued in a louder voice. He smiled at me. “I think it suits you well.”

  “Ava?” I asked, confused.

  “Ava from Lavandula or Lavender,” replied John with a smile.

  Loren smiled too. “That’s a great name. Medusa, I’m requesting permission to take the anomaly, now known as ‘Ava,’ back to her cell.”

  A white panel on the wall changed to a black screen and she appeared. I was growing fond of Medusa, despite that fact that she was spying on me and everyone else.

  “I am sending your request to the Madam Secretary.”

  “Is she still in Quadrant Delta?” I asked.

  “No, she is in her quarters.”

  “Is that within the same building as President Pallas?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’ve grown closer,” said Henrietta, with notable sadness. “He talks to her now more than me.”

  “It used to not be that way,” added John. “Pallas made all the decisions. If you asked to speak to him, he would appear on screen. No one has seen him since you arrived.”

  “Do you think if I asked to see him, he would refuse me?”

  John shrugged. “I don’t know. You could try.”

  “No, I don’t think so. For as strong as I am, I fear him. I fear his face.”

  “He’s a handsome man,” said Henrietta, wistfully.

  I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with appearance. I dread seeing the face of the man who is responsible for this world.”

  I expected a rebuttal from Henrietta, but she stayed silent. I hoped she had come to the realization that her servitude to Pallas was wrong. I assumed John and Loren stayed silent so they wouldn’t be labeled as “traitors.”

  Medusa stopped tilting her head every which way to reply. “The Madam Secretary has granted your request to take ‘Ava’ back to her cell. President Pallas was informed of the new designation and has agreed to her name. He has decreed for her to be called ‘Ava’ from now on. Also, she is to receive clothes more fitting to her desires. She is still to be reprimanded to Quadrant Echo, Sublevel 001. She can dine in the cafeteria with the other inmates, as long as she is with Henrietta, who is now no longer a slave to President Pallas, having been made the personal attendant to ‘Ava’.”

  “President Pallas no longer wants me?” asked Henrietta with tears in her eyes.

  “He no longer has any use for you. You are to sleep in Ava’s cell which has been modified to accommodate two inmates.”

  “But-but who will read poetry to him?”

  “I can check for you.”

  She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. I felt so sorry for her, but I was glad she was to be rid of that man. Although, I wondered why he no longer wanted her, and why she had been assigned to me.

  “No, don’t check,” she urged. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Bet it’s the Madam Secretary,” whispered Loren.

  John approached Henrietta. “Why don’t we go to the gardens? The roses are in bloom.”

  I didn’t know there were gardens around, but I was sure I wouldn’t be able to see them. I would have loved to see roses, to smell roses, to pick roses, careful that a thorn didn’t prick my skin, but that wasn’t a prisoner privilege, I assumed. I had been given more leeway, but rose- picking would probably be denied. I reminded myself to ask later though. I hoped John would take Henrietta there and console her. I didn’t know how she was going to cope with being in a locked cell with me. I knew she couldn’t hurt me, but she would be a poor roommate, crying over her separation from her handsome president.

  Henrietta hesitated, sniffing, and then said weakly, “Okay.”

  I looked at
John and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He nodded in reply and smiled, but his eyes swept to Loren, holding me close. He didn’t like that.

  “Loren, can we unbind?” I asked.

  “We have to hold hands at least.”

  He separated from me and clasped only my hand that he gave a gentle squeeze to, weaving his fingers with mine. John left with Henrietta first, guiding her by her elbow. Before they turned to leave, he glanced back at me and Loren, standing behind them.

  “Can I come see you later?”

  I nodded. “Of course you can.”

  He smiled at me, but gave Loren a look that said, “She’s not yours.”

  I didn’t want to be anybody’s, but I wasn’t going to push them away when I needed their help. Loren merely smiled at John, as if he had already won.

  We walked to the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

  “Loren, can Medusa hear us talking right now?”

  “She has the ability to monitor every part of Sanctuary—audio and visual.”

  “But when I first met you with John, you were…free with your choice of words. Do you know what I mean?”

  He swallowed and looked around nervously. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

  “We weren’t being monitored then?”

  “I’m sure I was.”

  “Why aren’t you in trouble?”

  The doors opened and Loren pulled me inside the metal box. On the panel, instead of pushing a button, he slyly removed the black cube from his pocket, and attached it like a magnet to a black screen located above the buttons. There was a hissing sound and then it stopped.

  “We can speak freely now,” he said as he removed the cube. “But only for seven minutes.”

  “What did you just do?”

  “It’s rebel tech. It messes with Medusa, sending feedback to her audio input. She gets confused, unable to process every aspect of Sanctuary. Video and audio capabilities are affected. Right now, she’s scrambling around, trying to find the source of the malfunction. She’s distracted and can’t hear us, although video is still available, albeit fuzzy and out of focus. When I removed your restraints back in the Examining Room, I had already sent Medusa what’s called a ‘reverberation’—an influx of code, echoing back and forth, diluting her senses, and making her work harder to monitor any speech or movement within that quadrant. In concentrated doses, I could override her system and manipulate her. In a massive dose, I could destroy her.”