Hybrid Zone Recognition (22 page)

BOOK: Hybrid Zone Recognition
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I’m sorry,
I said. It’s all I could think to say. I and my supposed super brain couldn’t fix this for him.

Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my chin into his back. As I did, I reached through our bond, willing him to accept my comfort. When I reached the wall, I pushed harder, and gradually, I felt the wall give way.

You and me both,
he replied, his voice thick with sorrow.

I didn’t ask him any more questions about it, and we drove in silence. Until I became bored. After a while, one blurred tree looked just like the next.

I propped myself up on my elbows, which I had placed on Adam’s back.
Doesn’t your back hurt leaning over like that?

You get used to it,
came his terse response.

I began to trace circles on his back with my right hand.
Tell me about the school,
I said.

What do you want to know? Wait, let me guess. Everything?

Though he said it in jest, his voice was filled with disgust. As if my curiosity about the school was somehow disgusting. I stilled my doodling hand, bringing both of them together on his back. Why shouldn’t I be curious about the school? Apparently, that was my future, and outside of the little they had already told me, I knew nothing about it. I didn’t see anything wrong with my request.

There isn’t
, Adam said.
Sorry.
It’s just…everything.

Everything. One medium size word to encompass a boat load of trouble.

That could be my new catchphrase,
I teased.
What’s wrong, Macy? Everything. What do you want on your burger? Everything. What options would you like on your truck? I’ll take everything.

Adam chuckled at my joking, like I’d hoped he would.
So, everything?
He asked.

Please
, I exaggeratedly begged.

The School,
he sighed.
Only the best and brightest are invited. But only when we are sure they will accept.

How do you manage that?

Each candidate is observed thoroughly and, without their knowledge, put through simulated circumstances to observe their responses. We make sure they accept the reality or truth of hybrids and are interested in continuing research in that direction before we ever invite them.

I wondered what all that entailed, especially the thoroughly observed part, but then decided I’d be better off not knowing.

We also, of course, make sure they are not certifiable.

Even me?

Nothing with you has been according to protocol,
came his quick retort.

Even though his tone was sharp, I felt him relaxing as I continued to question him. It felt like a tightness in me was loosening, and since I wasn’t the one uptight right now, I assumed it was coming from him.

I wasn’t put through any kind of simulation?

There was no need. You were already working with hybrids and the related genetics.
I felt him smother a laugh.
And besides, I already knew you were crazy.

Ha, ha. How long was I observed?

Five years.

Five years! I rifled through my past. I could think of five, no, six episodes that could probably be classified as crazy. But it wasn’t like I had initiated any of them. They just sort of happened to me. Like the NOLA incident. Crazy? Yes. Embarrassing? Most definitely. But still, not my doing. Pointing this out probably wouldn’t affect his opinion.

Ignoring the previous thread of conversation, I changed subjects.
So, what are the classes like?

We do not bother with unnecessary course work. No English or history classes or other such subjects. The only classes you attend are the ones that are strictly necessary for your development.

I would have sure appreciated that my first go round at school. Whoever decided art history was a necessary requirement for graduating was an idiot.

There are no time tables for degrees?

None. Everyone finishes individually based on their abilities. Whether that’s two years or five is totally subject to the individual. As is the degree.

When it is determined that you are finished, then what? Where do the graduates go?

Our question and answer session was interrupted by the deer that suddenly darted across our path. My heart skipped a beat as Adam swerved to avoid a collision. His maneuver set us spinning, and being true to form, I flew off the ATV.

Amazingly, I hit the ground in a crouch, but the force of the throw sent me skidding into a tree where I smacked the side of my face against the trunk.

“Oww!” I growled in pain.

Adam was at my side in an instant. “Woman!” he yelled. “You make the easiest of things difficult!”

I glared at him while I picked the pine needles from my hair and clothes. He was lucky I didn’t have laser eyes.

He took one finger and placed it under my chin. Turning my head, he looked at my new injury. “It’s just a scratch,” he reported. “You’ll be healed before we arrive.”

I repressed the urge to slap his hand, but I did jerk my head away. Scratch or not, it hurt.

He sighed and stood up, extending his hand to me.

I ignored it and stood up all by myself. As I walked around him, I saw him place both hands on his hips and look skyward. As if I were being difficult on purpose. As if I wanted to fly off the stupid bike ATV thing and smack my face against a tree. Furious, I waited by the bike with arms crossed over my chest.

Without a word, like the apology he owed me, he remounted the bike.

I climbed on after him, but I didn’t want to wrap my arms around him. I didn’t want to fall off again either. I settled for loosely wrapping my arms around his waist.

He growled and grabbed my arms, pulling me tighter against him. I had no choice but to lean against him.

When I couldn’t take his anger beating against me any longer, I asked,
Why are you so angry?

Because you seem intent on harming yourself,
he said tightly.

I am not!
I didn’t mean to fly off the bike!

Just like you didn’t mean to be shot at in the woods, injured in the shower, or the tunnel. Or at death’s door from blood loss. You almost died!

Whoa. Where was this coming from? I was totally unprepared for this line of attack.

All of those incidences were beyond my control. They happened to me. I didn’t cause them. I just had to cope with them,
I said quietly.

My soft response seemed to defuel his anger.
I need you to cope better,
he said haltingly,
without becoming injured. It…bothers me to see you in pain.

Bothered him? It bothered me, too. I wasn’t sure how to respond to him, so I didn’t.

As the silence stretched between us, I began to replay my gymnastic escapade. I still hadn’t worked out just how I had managed to end up on my feet. Must have been a cat thing. It was comforting to think I might be able to always land on my feet.

I was hesitant to disturb the fragile truce between us, but I didn’t like the stony silence either. And, I still had questions about the school.

Before my tumbling act—

He grunted at my description.

As I was saying, before then, you were going to tell me about what happens after graduation.

The ball was in his court now. He could answer or not. The silence continued, and I had just about resigned myself to the fact that he wasn’t going to answer when he did.

There are essentially two tracks. You can step right into research and development at the school and subsequently the Organization. Or, if you possess the right skills or as in your case, a particularly needed skill, you will be asked to join the Expeditionary Team of the Organization.

The school and the Organization are closely linked?

Very.

Where is the school located?
I just couldn’t picture how some school devoted to hybrid technology could exist without being noticed.

The school is located exclusively in a valley that is tucked in between the mountains in Montana. But the Organization itself has locations all over the world.

Hidden valley, huh? Now I was having visions of broccoli and ranch dressing. Unless Adam had a replicator in his pocket, I didn’t see that happening.

We just had breakfast.

I’m a growing hybrid. I need lots of food.

You always need lots of food
.

The man was a genius.

Are there a lot of people at the school?

No. There are a couple hundred attending at any given time. Another hundred or so work in R&D or teach at the school or both.

What about the Team?

There are currently thirty three members that can be dispatched as the need requires.

That’s not a lot of people to save the world.

He laughed softly.
I suppose it’s not. More are in training. But it takes a while.

What kind of training?

The usual. Weapons, survival, medical, a mix of martial arts. The list is long, depending on the candidate.

Sounded like it.
Who decides the makeup of the team?

That would be me.

So that was what Operations Director meant. I figured him for the boss of something. The other team members certainly treated him that way.

Are you the head of the Organization too?

No, the day to day operations are run by the original founders. They were the original crafters of hybridization.

At Biometrics?
I interrupted.
They’re still around?

Yes. Dr.’s Renard and Julia Latke. They are still there today and still in charge. Pike is their grandson.

That explained a ton of stuff. If I suspected Pike, Adam had to also. The fact that Pike was the Grandson of the founders had to add a tough dynamic for Adam. It was probably why he hadn’t gotten rid of him yet. Maybe he was waiting for the founders to die off before confronting Pike or collecting irrefutable evidence. I didn’t envy his position.

They must be really old,
I concluded.

Actually they look exactly the same, only better.

I was startled by that bit of information.
You can’t look exactly the same and better. What do you mean, better?

It seems that the nanobots take it upon themselves to regenerate or repair whatever and whenever they deem necessary.

I knew about the healing, but not the anti-aging.
You’re telling me we don’t age? Ever?

Not as of yet. Maybe not until the nanobots themselves stop working.

Well that was something new to think about. The implications were astounding. Were we talking immortality or just a really long life. And were the nanobots operating outside of their programming? There must have been some command code they were following. If the nanobots could repair the human body, that opened up a whole new world of medical science. I was almost beside myself with possibilities.

Somewhere in all my processing, I was lulled to sleep by the hum of the ATV and Adam’s breathing as my cheek rested on his back. When Adam finally pulled the ATV to a halt, I rubbed my eyes and looked up hopefully.

He sat up, placing his feet on the ground, but made no further move to disembark.
Something’s wrong,
he whispered.

My view was now obstructed by him, so I leaned to the side to stare around him. All I saw was a cabin straight across a small valley from us.

I don’t see anything,
I told him.

Exactly. No lights, no movement.
He inhaled deeply.
No familiar scents.
He eased the bike back into the cover of the trees.

They should have been here by now?
I asked.

He didn’t answer.

Maybe they haven’t gotten clear yet,
I said, recalling his instructions to Olivia.

Maybe,
he said doubtfully. He turned the bike around and slowly went back the way we’d come.

Where are we going now?
I tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

I have to find a place to hide the ATV.

He searched until he was satisfied that he’d found the best place, and then I helped him camouflage it with branches. I followed closely behind him as he headed back in the direction of the cabin. Just before we exited the cover of the trees, he located a hollow that would give us shelter from both the elements and anyone looking for us.

We’d driven the better part of the day. The sun was just cresting on the horizon when we sat down in front of the hollow to enjoy a dinner of cardboard bars and water. Except for the necessary teeth grinding, we ate in total silence while the dark descended. He kept his gaze fixed on the cabin the entire time.

“We should turn in,” he said, standing and crumpling his trash between his hands.

I watched him retreat to the hollow and wedge himself inside. Placing my trash under a rock, I approached the hollow. There wasn’t much room to spare. We certainly wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally rolling out during the night.

I settled in the space that was left over, and Adam pulled a tarp from his pack and secured it across the opening.

All tucked in for the night, I knew that sleep wouldn’t come. All I could think about was the rest of the team. The more time that passed without their appearance, the more likely it was that the worst had happened.

“Adam,” I said softly. “What happens if the Consortium gets them?”

He sighed heavily before answering. “They’ll probably be tortured for information. Killed, maybe.”

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