Amoeba (The Experiments) (9 page)

“The stewardess. The pilot. The ticket taker.” Cal rattled off a list as her and Jake walked down the hall in the office division of the institute. “The security guard.”

“Make your point.” Jake walked quickly with Cal.

“My point? Is there anyone else today you can possibly be rude to?”

“Cal, do you think I care?”

“Well, don’t you think that you should . . .” Cal stopped walking. “Hey.” She smiled. “This is where I ran into you.”

“Other end
,” Jake said.

“You’re right.”

“I know.” Jake reached for the office door and stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look.” He pointed to the name plate on the door. “Who the fuck is Dr. Gregory Haynes?”

“My best guess, the next person you insult.”

Jake just glared at her, turned the knob on the door, pushed it open, and allowed Cal to walk in first.

^^^^

With the well-presented manuscript entitled ‘The Iso-Stasis Experiment: Merited’ lying on his lap, Billy sat in the former office of Dr. Jefferson and across from Greg. He reviewed some of the twenty-nine page preliminary report of experiment twelve, which had not yet been released to the institutions who awaited it. There was more silence in the office than talking. Still, Billy kept the pocket tape recorder going the whole time. Greg sat behind the huge desk, fingers forming a triangle and pressed under his chin.

“So.” Billy flipped a page. “A gas explosion occurred three weeks prior to the experiment
’s end?”

“Yes.”

“Taking out all but John and Jane Doe. Who remained for the rest of the experiment?”

“Yes. Rules are rules.”

“Rules sir?” Billy looked up. “Sounds to me like you’re talking about a game.”

Greg smiled slightly. “More like if they want their compensation they have to stay.”

“The other participant . . .”

“As you can see in the report, three had broken mentally prior to the explosion. One was killed by a wolf attack. Wolves, as
you
know, are a big problem in that area.”

“And you do nothing to push the mental unbalances along
?”

Greg s
hook his head. “Nature, seclusion, elements and such, they do it for us.”

“And what about the mental stability of the participants prior to going into the experiment
? Is it true that not all of them are, how can I say, mentally capable to begin with?”

“That’s true
,” Greg, without reservation, informed Billy. “How else are we to know how the extreme circumstances affect people if there is no comparison? You need your mentally strong and weak, along with average. Plus, we won’t hide the fact that we try, like a bad recipe, to mesh the personalities that will most likely clash. Kind of jump starts things from the get-go.”

“I see.”

“It’s been done this way since Iso-Stasis two.”

Billy stopped reviewing the report. “What can you tell me about the private investors
?”

“Not much. They give a tax-deductible donation. Helps them at tax time.” Greg smiled.

“Can you tell me how much they invest?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me who any of them are?”

“No.”

“Can you give me the names of John and Jane Doe?” Billy asked.

“No.”

“Anything about them? Age, background . . .”

“No.”

“Where they are now, what you feel was the key to their surviving . . .”

“No.” Greg was firm. “Mr. Griffith, anonymity is vital with everyone involved. Just as John and Jane Doe signed a confidentiality form not
to speak of what happened up there, we agreed to the same. We let no one know anything about them, including trivial things such as their hair color. You have to understand, these people just want to move on.”

“I see. Now can you . . .”

“No.” Greg reached up and shut off the tape player.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. “What the . . .”

“Look.” Greg folded his hands and leaned on the desk toward Billy. “You want to know about the experiments. You want to know in-depth details, such as what goes on. You think more happens there than we are telling you.”

“Or anyone else, yes.”

“Then find out for yourself.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Find out correctly.” Greg leaned back, opened the desk drawer, and handed Billy a folder. “I’m not making any promises, but I’m giving you top consideration.”

Billy opened the folder,
and inside was a document at least forty pages thick. An Iso-Stasis Participant Application. Billy looked up at Greg. “How did you know I was going to ask about this?”

“I didn’t. So it seems you and I were thinking
along the same lines. Fill that out. We will give you a higher consideration, but I don’t make the final decisions, understand that. Also understand this. We won’t even start screening for another six to nine months. You have a jump. And . . .” Greg began to straighten up his desk. “I have another appointment waiting. So, I’m going to have to end this.”

Billy moved slow
ly, staring at his application. He reached toward the desk and grabbed his tape recorder. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Oh
, there’s no doubt in my mind on that,” Greg told him with an arrogant smile.

Billy stood up extending his hand to Greg. “Thank you. Not that I learned very much.”

Greg shook his hand as he stood. “I told you all I could. I even gave you that report early.”

Billy looked down
at this things. “Thank you for that. Have a good day.”

As soon as Billy turned and moved to the door, Greg pressed the intercom. “Grace, send in my next appointment.”

Grace, sitting behind a huge mahogany desk, nodded to Jake and Cal. “You two may go in now.”

Cal set down her magazine and stood up. “Behave.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what that means. Be nice. You’re stewing over this new director.”

“Thinking, Cal. Not stewing.”

As they moved to the door, it opened. Billy walked out.

Billy automatically stopped when he saw Cal. His eyes fixed upon her as if she were a magnet drawing him in. He couldn’t believe she was standing there so conveniently. He couldn’t figure out why, but his heart pounded. Then--not knowing how he had missed him--Billy saw Jake. Billy glanced only briefly at him, then back to Cal. Cal smiled politely at Billy as she walked to the door, Jake’s hand on her back. Billy kept staring, turning like a hand on a clock as they walked passed him.

At first Jake let it go, Cal was a beautiful woman. But after just a glance it became irritating. Jake stopped in the doorway spinning around to Billy. “Is there a problem that you have to stare at her like that
? His deep voice wasn’t loud, but enough to go through Billy.

Snapped out of his infatuation stare at the female participant survivor, Billy muttered something that resembled sounds when trying to respond to Jake’s startling question.

Jake waited.

“No.” Billy shook his head.

Jake said no more. He led Cal into the office. “And you have to encourage it.”

“What?” She laughed. “He was cute.”

Jake poked his head back out the door looking at Billy. “Please.”

“Not jealous?”

“Cal, I’ll get jealous when I think you’re interested in someone. And I hardly doubt you’ll get interested in any man whose ass you can beat.”

Cal chuckled and realized that the new director was patiently waiting for the
m to finish. “Sorry.” She smiled at Greg.

Greg held out his hand to Cal. “Dr. Haynes
, nice to meet you.” He shook Cal’s hand, and after Jake had closed the door, he shook Jake’s. “Lt. Col. Graison.”

“Where’s Jefferson?” Jake asked.

“Jake.” Cal nudged him.

Greg smiled. “Dr. Jefferson is on the eighth floor. I took over as director two days ago. Please have a seat. I’m glad you could make it.” He indicated with a motion of his hand to the couch. He waited for them both to sit. “Can I get you anything,
coffee, tea, water?”

Jake shook his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Right to the chase.” Greg raised his eyebrows.

“He’s rude like that
,” Cal commented.

“Cal.”

“Jake.”

“O
kay,” Greg interrupted. He walked across the room and turned on a television monitor. “We didn’t need to tell you, but we knew the personal involvement, so we felt compelled to share this information with you. Watch.” Greg picked up a remote. The television came on with a blue screen then a black and white picture of a room. “Remember this?”

The monitor showed Jake, walking in, carr
ying a sheet-covered body in his arms. Cal gasped emotionally and loudly, covering her mouth. Her heart sank, and an emotional pain shot right through her.

Jake’s angry eyes shifted from Cal to the screen. “What the fuck. Turn it off.”

“Watch,” Greg informed them as he turned up the volume.

Again
, Jake looked at Cal, her eyes welled with tears, her face pale. Jake, in a rage, sprang up. “I said turn it off!”

“Watch!”

“Turn it off now! Right now or . . .”

A hissing, whipping sound
, fast and high, caught Jake’s attention along with another gasp from Cal. When he turned to the screen, the body was completely covered with what looked like vines.

Greg paused the picture. “I knew you’d miss it.”

Cal’s hand pointed to the screen, shaking violently. “What . . . what happened to Rickie’s body?”

Jake slowly backed up and pull
ed back Cal’s hand. “Show it again.”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll show the enhanced slow motion shot.” Greg ejected the tape and placed in another. It started to play,
and although it was fuzzy and a little blurred, it was interpretable and closer. “You placed Rickie’s body in this room,” Greg explained. “You weren’t out the door five seconds when this happened.” Slowly, the large blood spot ripped open seemingly by the explosion of Rickie’s abdomenal flesh. Whipping from his deadly injury came vine-like tentacles, at least two hundred, spraying outward and intertwining Rickie. Then fast and furiously, even in slow motion, like a volcanic eruption they shot out until his body was not only completely covered, but covered by what looked like a shell. “He cocooned, like our Stasis always do.”

Cal was so confused. “So this means you had injected Rickie . . .”

“No,” Greg interrupted. “We reviewed all the tapes over and over. The nearest we can tell, by blood samples taken and by watching, is that the stasis somehow was injured when he clawed Rickie. Therefore, a transfer of blood occurred mixing with Rickie’s blood, And it took over, like a vampire, creating yet another stasis. We’ve since run numerous tests on animals, and amazingly we saw the same results. We were scientifically stunned.”

Cal swallowed harshly. “Oh my God, Rickie became a Stasis. Was he one of the ones that came after us?”

“No,” Greg explained. “It takes four to five weeks for the metamorphosis to complete, sometimes six. As I was telling Jake the other day on the phone, we didn’t . . .”

“Stop.” Cal held up her hand. “Repeat that.”

Ignoring Jake’s shifting eyes and shaking head, Greg did. “As I was telling Jake the other day on the phone . . .”

“Stop. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Cal turned her head and her eyes glared at Jake. “You knew?”

“Cal, look . . .”

“You . . . knew?” Cal stood up looking down to Jake.

“Can I explain?” Jake asked.

“Explain what?” Cal’s voice grew louder. “You knew this happened to Rickie and you failed to tell me?”

“In my defense, I just found out four days ago.”

“You dick!”

“Cal, please.” Jake twitched his head toward Greg.

“You big, arrogant, self righteous,
dick!” With her final words, Cal reached down to the coffee table, picked up the box of Kleenex, and hurled it at Jake beaning him in the head.

“Enough
, Cal.” Jake stood up and placed the Kleenex box back.

“Enough? I’ll tell you when it’s enough.” Cal picked it back up and threw it at him again. “I cannot believe . . “ She grabbed a magazine. “You didn’t tell me.” She tossed it hard at Jake.

Jake’s arms batted it away and he ducked away from the book she threw as well. “Stop it. Let me talk to you.”

“No. I don’t ever want you to talk to me again.”