The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments) (12 page)

“Whoever designed these shelves . . .” Cal grunted as she spoke, climbing up on to the counter top, “didn’t take into account short people.”

“Easy.” Carlos held up his hand to safe guard as he stood behind her. “You want me to look for you?”

“No, I got it.” Cal caught her balance. “I want to have everything ready for later.” She tilted her head back looking down at him, “Just make sure I don’t fall.” She looked back into the cupboard “Here, this will work.”
 
She dropped two boxes of pasta down and turned around.

“Let me help you down.” Carlos reached up and put his hands around her waist, lifted her up and brought her down to the floor. “Cal? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Cal visually checked out the items she had selected.

“Why doesn’t Jake want you to be around me? He seems to want to corner the market on your attention.”

“He does?” Cal shrugged. “He didn’t say anything about not wanting me to be around you.”

“It’s easy to see. I mean, I’m not doing anything but trying to be nice, you know. But, every time I make a suggestion that you and I to do something, he’s there. He’s always there.”

Cal slowly turned around to face Carlos. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t really noticed he did that.

 
“I’m just . . .” Carlos tossed his hands up, “…I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“We have seven months.” She smiled at him.

“But wouldn’t it be better to start to get to know you
now
? I mean, really wouldn’t it be odd, five months from now, after all that time in isolation, to find out you harbor a secret passion for fuchsia?”

“Oh, my God!” Cal chuckled.

“What?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Carlos started to laugh and then paused a moment. “Really?” he asked with a tilted head and innocent look.

Cal caught herself staring at him and quickly shook her head. “God, you look so much like David. I’m sorry to stare.”

“Anything that works to my advantage is fine. What about tonight? We can sit, talk . . .” Carlos turned his head to the loud sound of someone clearing his throat and saw Jake walking in. “See what I mean?”

Jake said nothing. He walked up beside them, reached up in the cabinet, got a small bag of cereal and walked over to a table. Loudly, he pulled out the chair and sat down. “Your cigarette is burning away, Cal.” He reached over to the ashtray on the table.

“Sorry.” Stepping over to the table, Cal reached out for the burning butt at the same time as Jake. “Thank you.” She put it out.

Carlos, realizing a moment with Cal was impossible, decided it best to leave. “I’m heading out. If you want to do something . . .” he looked toward Jake, “. . . different tonight, let me know, Cal.”

Cal’s eyes shifted between Carlos who awaited an answer and Jake who raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “I can’t Carlos. Thank you anyway.” She saw that Jake smiled. “We’re working on something.”

“If you change your mind,” Carlos stepped back, “I’ll see you at dinner.” He nodded to Jake and walked out.

Jake’s stare followed him out the door, and he sensed that Carlos knew it. After the room was just his and Cal’s, Jake stood spooning the cereal into his mouth. “You’re supposed to be humoring me about Carlos.”

“I am. But what am I supposed to do? Tell the man he’s banned from hanging around me because you don’t trust him?”

“I’ll tell him if you want.”

“No, don’t. Why don’t we just get a hold of his book and we can clear this all up?”

“I get a bad feeling, Cal,” Jake finished off his cereal before continuing. “I really do. Besides, we’re going to have to wait on Carlos. I’ve slated John for the first book.”

“I don’t understand. If you’re that suspicious of Carlos, why don’t we get his first? Then we can clear this up and you won’t have to worry about my hanging . . .” her words slowed down in sudden realization. “We’ll do John first.”

“Thank you. Hey, what are you doing?”

“Well, I know they have the prepared meals, but I thought I’d cook. So I’m just getting things out and ready.” She turned around and leaned against the counter. “I wanted to make something I would eat.”

“Good. I’m getting tired of seeing you pick at your food. So . . . you cook?”

“Of course I cook. I cooked all the time for me and Jessie. Actually, I cook rather well.”

“I’ll be the judge of that tonight.”

“No, please don’t. I’m limited here. Wait until we get back home and then I’ll make you a dinner
 
. . . wait, I forgot. You live in North Carolina, I live in Pennsylvania.”

Jake fluttered his lips. “Twelve hour drive is no problem for me.”

“You’d actually come up?” Cal asked.

“Are you inviting me?”

“Yes, I am.” She nodded.

“Then I’m there.” He began to arrange all the things she had pulled out and set on the counter by size. “You ready to head back to the room?”

“Yes.” She grabbed his hand away from her stuff and they started to leave. “Did you get the things for our building project?”

“Yeah, and I wanted to ask you if I can I put them in your room? My room is neat. Yours has all those flowers everywhere.”

“Not anymore. I threw them out.” She noticed he stopped walking. “Jake? Is something wrong?”

“You threw them out?”

“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t know who put them there. What if it was some sort of sick . . .”

“Cal, you shouldn’t . . .”

“I’m joking, Jake. And you can put the supplies in my room.” They started to walk again.

“Speaking of supplies, I saw the oddest thing while I was out.”

“What’s that?” Cal asked as they headed to the hall toward the bedrooms.

“Loose dirt, different color, spread all around this one area.”

Cal shrugged as she stopped at her door. “So, you found loose dirt. So what?”

“Cal, this is serious. It wasn’t there when I was getting those, I mean, it wasn’t there earlier. It’s like someone was digging, but I couldn’t find the hole.”

“Digging?” She snickered as they walked into the room. “Like our graves? How eerily
Flowers in the Attic
.”

“Go on, make jokes.” Jake shut the door. “Obviously, you aren’t remembering paragraph fifteen ‘B’ in the agreement we signed.”

“Obviously, I’m not. What’s paragraph fifteen?’

“Basically, you die here, you are theirs. Your body is Caldwell property forever.”

Cal laughed and then the smile dropped. “You’re not kidding.”

Jake raised his eyebrows.

Hurriedly, Cal opened the second drawer of her desk. “I have it . . . here” She pulled out a stapled document. “Paragraph fifteen?”

“‘B’” Jake nodded and stepped up beside her.

Cal flipped through the pages, let her finger skim down, and then raised her eyes to Jake. “Shit.”

“See.” he nodded arrogantly.

“God, Jake.” She closed the document. “It really makes you wonder. What the hell have we got ourselves into?”

“Gentlemen, welcome to the
Iso
-Stasis Experiment.” Dr. Jefferson tapped the index cards he intended to use as notes against the end of the long table and stepped closer to the monitor wall. “First, I need to thank you eight gentlemen. Without you, and your investments, the experiment would not be possible. Some of you have returned from previously investing. We welcome you back . . .” Dr. Jefferson nodded to Aldo, Ivan, and Douglass. “And the rest of you, welcome aboard.”

He inhaled with dramatics as he paced back and forth before them. “The
Iso
-Stasis Number Twelve. Right participants carefully selected, tested and processed have been placed together like an intricate puzzle for your benefit and ours. They assumed that they were all chosen for their mental and physical strengths. As our veteran investors know, that is not the case. All of these people are different, ranging from the very strong to the significantly weak. Should they make it the entire seven months without mentally breaking, they receive a sizable compensation. All of them know that, but none of them know the real reason for their being there. That reason being all of you.”

Dr. Jefferson had their attention and he went with it. “Far from civilization it is a mental endurance experiment. However, if left to human nature, we would not get the results we want. So we step in. There are three simple phases to this experiment—mental stress, nature’s fury, and finally, the experiment itself . . . The Catch. Each step increases the intensity of the experiment and pushes the participant mentally and physically further.”

Pacing, Dr. Jefferson moved slowly around the table. “We’ve ranked the participants for you, One through Eight. The lower the number, the better the chance is of their emerging. We monitor . . .” he pointed to the huge wall of monitors, “…daily, twenty-four seven. We keep track in a log which you are welcome to view any time. We provide weekly reports. Everything you need to know is in the folders before you. Now . . .” Dr. Jefferson lifted a sample small blue envelope, “…the reason for your being here. All of you picked one of these. Inside is a name. That name is the reason for the gamble you took.
They
are your horses in this particular race. You may open your selections.”

Aldo pulled out his small card and peered at the name. His dislike in his selection was apparent as he pounded his fist on the table in anger. “Son of a bitch, I don’t believe it.” He shook his head. “I have a woman. A
fuckin
’ woman, Christ, I ought to just hang up my hat. I thought this year I’d have a good chance. What is she? Number seven, or eight?”

“It depends, who do you have?”

“
Caleen
Reynolds.” He tossed his card down, and rubbed his head. “Two million dollars, two million, and I get a woman.”

“That’s the chance you took. You gambled Aldo.”

“And I lost--again.”

“Not yet.” Dr. Jefferson smiled. “Cal, as she likes to be called, is number two.”

Aldo lifted his eyes over the hands that covered them. “Two? A woman is number two? A woman has never been number two.”

“Correct.” Dr. Jefferson placed his hand behind his back. “When you read about her you’ll know why. She is very strong willed and physical. She’s a good one. Besides, there is something special about Cal. I think all of you will find this interesting. Please open to page four.” He heard the flipping of pages. “Though Ms. Reynolds could have made it into the experiment on her own credentials, she was a shoe in when we did a background check on her. Her maiden name is
Caleen
Lambert. For those who have never read the history of the
Iso
-Stasis, let me enlighten you. Ms. Reynolds applied without the knowledge not even the slightest inkling that her father was part of the 1970
Iso
-Stasis experiment. Sergeant Lambert was headed into the winner’s slot. Never once did he break. He was one of our best. He was killed by a fellow participant three hours before the end of the project. So, knowing her genes, her background and her history, Ms. Reynolds holds the second slot.”

Aldo clenched his fist. “Yes. I have a chance. Who’s number one?”

“Of course you can look at the board but . . .” Dr. Jefferson peered around, “…who has Major Graison?”

Small and meek in appearance, the balding man held up his card. “I do. I’m Stewart Marshall.”

“You have the favorite.” Dr. Jefferson chuckled silently at the disgruntled moans. “Carlos
Valenz
is number three. The rest complete the order, again, check the ranking board.

Before I get into answering anymore participant questions, for the new people,” Dr. Jefferson took a breath, “I need to explain the rules. There are none. We control what happens, but who it happens to is by lot, not by choice. There will be one winner. Never has there been more than one winner, but, if by chance there is, the pot will be split between the names of the investors who hold the names of those who walk away. Unless of course, they choose to exercise the option and in that case we will ensure one winner and one winner only.”

Picking up the remote control he said, “I guess it’s time to let all of you enjoy the event and see your horses.” He flicked on the monitors and each screen lit up, some showing empty rooms, some filled. “May I say may the best man win?”

Aldo shook his head, distracting everyone’s attention as they tried to see who they had. “You didn’t mention what the Catch is this experiment.”

“I apologize.” Dr. Jefferson stepped closer to the screens. “The Catch is the heart of the experiment. In the past it has usually been ours. Not this time. One of you has The Catch.” Dr. Jefferson pointed to the screen. “One of these eight people is a homicidal maniac. We, for experiment purposes, paid for his release. This participant thrives on the kill. We won’t reveal who it is, but he is brilliant.” Dr. Jefferson smiled impressed with himself. “Keep in mind that looks, gender and history may be deceiving.”

Aldo and Ivan stepped closer to the monitor as they each looked for their person. “A homicidal maniac? Shit, this will make for an interesting inside bet with the investors, don’t you think?” Aldo commented thoughtfully.

“Oh, most definitely.” Ivan leaned forward, carefully scanning the monitors. “But which one is it?”

^^^^

The slow motion video tape played on all twelve monitors. Each of the investors was shown scenes from the previous week highlighting their ‘horse’ as they called them. They were on the last one, the best one, as Dr. Jefferson put it. Aldo stood the closest to the monitor. He held a short glass filled with ice, the scotch whiskey barely covering it. He sipped the scotch slowly and watched.

It played in slow motion, twice because everyone seemed to get a kick out of it. The clip showed Jake standing up in defense of Cal, who was obviously in no need of his protection, storming over and slugging John Montgomery, knocking him to the floor.

“Again,” Aldo called out as he watched closely.

“No, not again,” Dr. Jefferson said. “It’s time to watch what they are doing now.” He turned off the recordings and let the live scenes play.

“I’ll be damned.” Aldo stared at the single monitor where Cal stood preparing her meal. “I’ll be damned. That’s my girl.” The large diamond ring on his forefinger sparkled as he tapped on the screen. “Cute little thing, isn’t she?”

“Very much so, yes she is,” Dr. Jefferson said and stepped closer to the table. “If I could, I’d like to have everyone’s attention for one last moment.” When he knew he had everyone’s attention, he reached in his pocket and held up a gold coin. The mental phase is to begin in one week.” He showed everyone the coin. “This is how we determine who will be pushed. Which four it will be? Ivan, you call it.”

Ivan looked for a moment at the name ‘Rickie’ printed on his card. “Since my horse is seven, heads will be even.”

Dr. Jefferson tossed the coin in the air. It flipped several times landing in the palm of his hand. He slammed it on the back of his other hand and covered it. He peeked under his hand and then held up the shiny gold coin. “Heads it is.” Smiling, he began to walk to the back of the room, paused, and clasping the coin tightly in his fisted hand said, “Two, four, six or eight. This early on . . . which one will break?” Placing his hand holding the coin in his pocket, Dr. Jefferson opened the doors to the full viewing area. “Let the game begin.”