Designed to Love (4 page)

***

A box of chocolates, and a few compliments
goes a long way. I wish I would have thought of it sooner. Gail
Grover swoons over me, when I ask her to make an outgoing call for
the fourth time today. It's 9:00 in the evening, and I can't
imagine Cat not being available for answering the phone this time.
Finally, on the fourth ring, a breathless Cat answers my call and
the sound of her voice makes my heart speed up.

"What could you possibly be doing that you
would be out of breath right now?" I ask in a low, sexy voice that
I know she loves.

"I just got back from flying," she says,
giggling.

"This late...?" I look at the clock again to
make sure I had the time right.

"Yeah, Marti checked me off on a bunch of
stuff, and I almost have enough hours to do my solo flight."

"So soon...? It's only been a week." The
doubt in my voice is obvious to even me, and judging by her
silence, it doesn't escape her sensitive ears either. I brace for
her backlash. She hates it when I question her abilities and isn't
afraid to call me out. To my surprise, her voice is tender and her
response is sweet.

"Ronan, I am the luckiest girl in the world
to have you. Our life together is going to be great, but you can't
worry about every little thing I do. Remember the train ride we
agreed to take together. I would never hold you back from the
things that you want to accomplish."

Cat doesn't beat around the bush and she has
a way of expressing herself that leaves very little room for
argument. "Tell me about your day now," she coaxes and I launch
into a thirty minute tale of the different testing stations, always
keeping in mind my confidentiality agreement with Bernie
Stoddard.

RONAN

Bernie Stoddard didn't obtain her high
profile title by being a pushover and naively accepting a response
that doesn't correspond with the evidence presented to her. She
rewinds the videotape of yesterday's competition in the arena for
the third time, then plays it in slow motion, capturing each of us,
excluding Elizabeth and Claire, actively engaging in hand-to-hand
combat. We watch the video again, with the same level of perplexity
that we had the first time. Bernie doesn't believe us when we tell
her that we've never been formally trained in martial arts, or
hand-to-hand combat. And watching the video of us, I can't say that
I blame her.

It is even more revealing than my remote
view was during the fight. Based on the skill level we
demonstrated, we may have kicked ass even without the use of
telekinetic energy. We looked like Ninja's out there, effortlessly
nailing every punch, block and kick. Burke grins proudly, when the
video shows him jumping four feet off the ground, performing a 360
degree turn, before plowing his leg into the side of his opponent.
We shrug our shoulders again and Bernie stares at us long and
hard.

"Look Bernie, why would we lie about
something like this? We can't provide you with the explanation that
you're looking for, because we don't know how or why we do the
things that we do," Alisha says in what I consider a very
believable voice.

Bernie concedes, sighing and shaking her
head.

Today's results of our psychic and
psychokinetic talents impress the government as much as yesterday's
test of our physical abilities. For Bernie, our demonstrations are
a repeat of what was shown to her in her office, only on a much
larger caliber, and the power behind our telekinetic abilities
seems to increase the more we use it.

Earlier today, we flew a military helicopter
around the complex, without a pilot. We also blew up a retired
military cargo truck that had already been stripped of usable
parts. When the entire complex lost its computer power for fifteen
minutes, Bernie got a call from the Commander In Chief. We crossed
the line once again, when we recited a paragraph from the
confidential document sitting in front of him on his desk.

There is a mixture of admiration, fear and
excitement in the evaluation team's eyes as we perform one feat
after another. The worst part of the day is succumbing to another
EEG test. Bernie convinces me that the exam will take a fraction of
the amount of time, and will provide three times the data of that
done during my captivity. For me, it evokes memories of the night I
learned of my parents' death and I am overcome with sadness. I
escape to the one place, I know I'll find comfort, and I spend the
next twenty minutes hovering next to Cat at the airport, watching
as she silently studies the thick student pilot's manual, preparing
for her exam.

***

Alisha demands to see the results of all of
our EEG tests and Bernie consents, observing her as she discusses
the findings with the two neurologists on staff, matching their
level of expertise on the subject. She later informs us that the
levels of electrical brainwave activity, far exceeds that measured
in a normal human brain.

"In someone who is awake and involved in
busy tasks, a normal brain produces anywhere from 12-30 Hz of
electrical activity. A relaxed state would produce anywhere from
8-12 Hz. Our brains generated 74-92 Hz," she says somberly.

Brandon lets out a low whistle. "It's like
comparing the lights of Las Vegas, to the lights in Great Falls,
Montana," he says grinning.

"Exactly!" Alisha exclaims.

***

Bernie is trustworthy, this I am almost
certain of. But we had already decided that there were three things
that would never be disclosed to anyone, other than the people
living at the Brandon estates, and this included Bernie. First, she
would never know that Claire was the source behind our telekinetic
energy. As far as Bernie and the evaluation team go, we all possess
equal power in this area. Second, under no circumstances would we
reveal Claire's ability to heal injuries, and she promised never to
do so in front of an audience. And last, Alisha and I are the only
Designers with the ability to remotely view, Claire is excluded.
All of these gifts make Claire a prime target for any enemy as well
as those interested in exploiting her for their own personal
achievements. Our mission is to provide Claire with a cloak of
protection that supersedes anything else, including our own safety.
So, aside from that, all of our other talents and gifts have been
revealed and fully investigated by the team of scientists working
with Bernie. They are satisfied that they have been given
everything and now debate on how we can best be used in our first
undercover mission.

***

If it weren't for my desire to see the
results of my DNA mapping sequence, I would have insisted on
leaving for home tonight. I've had about all I can stand of being
cooped up on the seventh subterranean floor in the Area 51 complex,
even though technically I had mentally traveled through most of the
complex. It was well after midnight when a hysterical Claire
connects with me long after she should have been sound asleep.

"Ronan, they have them caged up and they're
hurting them," she sobs and even mentally, I can hear the despair
in her voice. I bolt upright in bed, every muscle in my body
twitching. "Claire, who is caged up? Where are Alisha and
Elizabeth?" I ask, already out of bed and putting on a pair of
jeans.

"They are sleeping. The animals are on the
floor below us and they are doing horrible things to them, Ronan,"
she says sniffling. "We need to help them, pleeeeease Ronan," she
begs.

Instantly I have a pretty good idea of what
she's talking about, even before she convinces me to remote travel
back to the floor below us. There was a reason they had the type of
long treadmills that reach speeds of 75 mph, and the first row of
cages confirms that we aren't the only fast species being tested on
them. The feline section alone has over a dozen cats ranging from
domestic size to a large male lion, all confined in cages so small
that they can't even stand up. Some of the larger predatory cats
are connected to IV's, while others are obviously being restricted
of food and water, slowly succumbing to their death. Most of them
are covered in urine and feces and I swear I can smell the stench,
even though I am there in mind only. My stomach lurches and I can
taste bile creeping up my throat. Row after row we see various
animal species both wild and domestic, all in the same condition as
the cats, and when I look into the eyes of a large gray wolf and
see a reflection of my own golden amber eyes, something inside me
snaps. "Claire, wake up Alisha and Elizabeth. Tell them I will be
at your door in a few minutes."

Claire answers the door and Brandon, Burke,
and I quickly fill up the small hotel room. A scantily clad Alisha
comes out of the bathroom, and to the delight of Burke and Brandon,
doesn't even bother donning a bathrobe. She may consider them to be
younger brothers, but they certainly didn't view her in a big
sisterly way, especially seeing her half clothed.

"This better be good, Ronan," Alisha warns,
perching herself on the window ledge, crossing one leg over the
other.

The small space isn't conducive to pacing,
so I release my pent up energy by clenching and unclenching my
hands, as I try to find the words to describe the scene below us.
Finally, I shake my head. "I have to take you there; you need to
see for yourself. Get dressed!" Something in my tone, keeps Alisha
from arguing, even though she doesn't do well with being told what
to do. Obediently she and Elizabeth get dressed, while the rest of
us work on scrambling the computerized video cameras in the
hallway, and disarming the alarms that are connected to the only
stairwell that will take us down to the eighth level.

There are two night shift employees sitting
in an office in the front of the lab. Claire murmurs "blue" when
she spots them.

"Burke and I'll take care of them," Alisha
whispers, pulling two syringes from her sweatshirt pocket.

With both guards snoring loudly, the six of
us silently make our way down the first row of cages. Claire starts
to cry and the rest of us tear up. Instinctively I open my arms and
am ready to catch Claire when she jumps into them. When we get to a
large male lion lying on its side, with its dry tongue hanging
limply out of its mouth, Burke cusses, snapping the lock off the
cage door. He reaches in and gingerly runs his hand over the lion's
muzzle, as the animal slowly opens its eyes.

"He wants to die," Claire says, wiggling out
of my arms to get to the cage. When she crawls inside with the
massive animal, no one tries to stop her. She locks eyes with the
lion as her small hands gently caress the top of its head. After
about five minutes, the lion gives a feeble roar and lays its head
back down. "It's too late, he just wants to die," Claire says
crawling out of the cage, once again fighting back tears.

Alisha marches over to a row of cabinets and
starts opening each one, frantically searching until she finds a
box labeled "Potassium Chloride." She pulls out two large vials and
looks at Claire. "Are you sure?" Claire nods her head. There's not
a dry eye in the room, as we watch the beautiful creature take its
final breath, shortly after Alisha pushes the last of the
medication through the IV.

***

Bernie Stoddard pulls her robe snuggly
around her tiny body, as if the action alone will shield her from
the onslaught of demands and threats. Six, Designer kids crowded in
her hotel room at 1:00 in the morning is a definite first, and she
is uncertain as to how to proceed. She admits to having knowledge
of the animal lab on the eighth floor, but it's clear by her
shocked expression and the way she shakes her head sadly, that she
had no idea of the terrible things being done down there. She had
no children. Her dogs, cats, horses and goats were her family and
like us, she feels a tremendous injustice over the treatment of the
innocent animals below us.

"I want it shut down, tonight," Alisha
seethes.

When Bernie tries to placate us with an
"I'll see what I can do in the morning," Alisha threatens to drag
her down to the lab right now and show her firsthand what's going
on. Bernie sighs and plops down on the bed, rubbing her temples in
a circular motion. Claire approaches her and gently places a hand
on her forehead and almost immediately Bernie stops massaging her
forehead.

"Please," Claire says softly, looking deep
into Bernie's eyes in such a way that it would have been impossible
for Bernie to look away. "They are part of our family. They live in
us," Claire sums the whole thing up in a few words.

Bernie crumbles and says, "Tell me what you
want me to do."

***

The next morning is complete pandemonium.
Out of just under two hundred animals, only twenty nine were well
enough to have even a remote chance at survival outside of the lab.
The rest were compassionately destroyed, and according to Claire,
"Were grateful for being released from a life of misery." The high
ranking military officials are not happy about the speech delivered
by Alisha, threatening them with "Designer revenge," should they
engage in this type of abhorrent behavior in the future. The
spontaneous combustion of a nearby trashcan augments the threat. I
can't be sure if Bernie is grateful for being on our side or
regretful, but I hoped the former. I was beginning to have a soft
spot for the woman and wanted her to stick around for awhile.

***

The six of us are silent as Bernie hands us
each a packet with our name on it. I accept mine, along with
Claire's and get up to leave. One of the lead scientists clears his
throat, "Um, you may want to review it here, so we can be available
for answering or clarify any questions you may have." I shake my
head, looking around the table at the scientists who were part of
the evaluation team. I can't be sure, but judging by the level of
concern they are exhibiting at releasing the confidential
documents, I would venture that they have already reviewed the
results.