The Orphan Factory (The Orphan Trilogy, #2) (6 page)

Nine had become a passionate Bears fan, too, but today his mind was on other things. Desperate to confirm it was Helen he saw, he stood up on his seat to see beyond the flag still being waved in front of him.

It is her!

He felt his heart race when he spotted the back of Helen’s head about five rows down. Sitting with her father, she wore a white woolen cardigan and her long dark hair flowed freely in the winter breeze.

Mercifully, the elderly fan ceased her flag-waving for the moment, and Nine had an uninterrupted view. He watched Helen intently. She turned her head to reveal her profile. As always, her beauty mesmerized him.

Even when the game resumed, Nine couldn’t take his eyes off her. He noted her father had his arm tightly around her, and he felt immediately envious. Nine had never had a father. He wasn’t sure if Helen had a mother, but figured she was lucky to have one parent at least.

For some reason, Helen didn’t look at all happy, though. Nine wondered why she appeared so melancholy.
You don’t know how good you’ve got it, Helen
.

#

Later that same day, Nine observed Helen yet again, this time from the tree house back at the Pedemont Orphanage. He patted Cavell’s head as he studied the dark-haired beauty through his binoculars. As usual, Helen was doing her homework before dinner at the window in the neighboring apartment building. “She’s a knockout, Cavell.”

The dog whimpered sympathetically.

A part of Nine felt slightly creepy to be always spying on Helen like this. It wasn’t right and he knew it. But he was addicted. Viewing Helen was his only connection to normal, everyday existence. Studying her facial expressions and her reactions to things as they occurred – like interacting with her father or talking on the phone – gave him an insight into regular life.

Birds circling above in the late afternoon sky caught Cavell’s attention. He sat up and began barking at them.

“Easy boy.” Nine patted the dog, calming him.

Nine raised the binoculars and looked through the tree house’s peep-hole again. As he refocused the lenses on Helen, he was shocked to see she was now crying. Tears streamed down her face. Nine had no idea why she was so upset, but it completely fascinated him.  

For some reason, Helen looked more beautiful than ever. It was as if her display of suffering made her more attainable. Until now, she had seemed too perfect to ever exist in Nine’s orbit, but now he could see she suffered just like he did. Probably not as much as him, he conceded, but clearly she was emotionally fragile, as he was, and she hurt inside.

As he adjusted the binoculars and zoomed in on Helen’s dark, Mediterranean eyes, he felt an overwhelming desire to reach out to help her, to rescue her, to take away her pain. A part of him didn’t think that was realistic given he was a manufactured orphan who did not officially exist. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about rescuing her.

Logic didn’t seem to come into the equation. Not now that he was in love.

Nine looked down at Cavell for a moment as he considered his feelings. He hesitated.
Love?
If he was honest, he didn’t even know what the word meant. He had never given or received love before, but maybe this was what it felt like. Nine looked back to see Helen was no longer at the window. He felt an immediate sense of loss.

The shrill ringing of a dinner bell from within the orphanage interrupted Nine’s reverie. He cursed when he remembered it was his turn to cook for his fellow orphans. Dinner would be late tonight and that would be his fault, and there’d be repercussions. Kentbridge would make sure of that.

Nine tore his eyes away from the window opposite, hoisted Cavell over one shoulder then reluctantly climbed down from the tree house. At the foot of the old sycamore tree, he dropped Cavell onto the lawn and ambled toward to orphanage’s ground floor kitchen. He knew he should hurry, but his thoughts were elsewhere. 

9
 

“As operatives,” Kentbridge said, “you must never fail to see the wood for the trees. In other words, never become too narrowly focused.”

All twenty three orphans listened intently as they stood before their master and tutor on the sidewalk outside the Pedemont Orphanage. Kentbridge surreptitiously glanced up and down the street, demonstrating how he constantly observed everything about the nondescript Riverdale neighborhood.

“Always absorb as much as you possibly can, but never in an obvious way. Subtlety must always be your mode of operation.”

Kentbridge illustrated the point by casually scratching his nose as he observed a house to his right then pretended to check his pocket for money as he glanced at an empty section to his left. Then he bent down and tied up his shoe laces as he studied passing vehicles. Standing up, he resumed walking along the street, followed by his attentive young charges.

Reaching the end of the street, Kentbridge turned to them. “Right, now ask me anything about this street.”

Number Eighteen, an Asian boy, piped up, “What was the flag outside the red bungalow?”

“A Mexican flag,” Kentbridge answered without hesitation. “Not the modern Mexican flag, but the old one dating back to the early Nineteenth Century.”

Seventeen raised her hand. Kentbridge nodded to her. Fixing her intense blue eyes on him, Seventeen asked, “How many mailboxes were there outside the apartment block with the large parking lot?”

“Ninety six,” Kentbridge answered emphatically. Like his orphans, he had a highly-trained photographic memory.

Nine stepped forward. “What was the number plate of the motorcycle that went past earlier on?”

Kentbridge hesitated. It was only for a second, but that was long enough to give Nine a moment’s hope that he could beat his master at his own game. The Omega agent looked up the street as he searched his mind. He then recited the number plate, the make and model of the motorcycle and the approximate age and weight of its male rider.

Man, he’s good.
Nine felt a mixture of admiration and envy as he observed his mentor.
One day I’m gonna be better than you, Tommy. Just to spite you.

Kentbridge led the orphans back the way they’d come. On reaching the orphanage’s front lawn, he questioned his charges to test their own observational skills.

Awaiting his turn to be tested, Nine noticed a removals van parked in the driveway of Helen’s apartment building. Removals men were busy loading furniture into the van. Nine’s interest was piqued when he saw Helen’s father helping the men. It took him a moment to comprehend what was happening. The realization hit him that Helen and her father were leaving the neighborhood.

How can you be moving out already? You’ve only just arrived in Riverdale.

Nine felt numb as the painful truth set in. He would never actually meet Helen even though, right now, she was the center of his universe.

“Nine, describe the roadworks sign back at the intersection.”

Kentbridge’s commanding voice snapped Nine out of his trance. Seventeen and some of the others laughed when they noticed their fellow orphan had been daydreaming. A stern Kentbridge stood over Nine, arms folded, clearly expecting the boy to get his act together.

Refocusing, Nine looked up at the agent. “It was a white sign with a red triangle containing the warning: drive carefully – roadworks ahead.”

Kentbridge didn’t acknowledge the total accuracy of Nine’s answer. Instead, he motioned to the children to follow him inside. As he led them into the orphanage grounds, he assessed Nine’s emotional state. He could see the boy was upset about something.

Approaching the building’s front door, Nine glanced back at the removals truck in time to see Helen’s father signing some paperwork. Then he saw Helen. She was wearing a backpack and carrying a suitcase. Nine felt his world was coming to an end.

She’s definitely moving out
.

Just before the orphanage’s front door closed behind him, Nine’s razor-sharp vision saw the name
Katsarakis
written in big letters on the side of Helen’s suitcase.

#

That evening, under Kentbridge’s watchful eye, the orphans took their White Gold Powder before dossing down in the large open-plan room that served as their sleeping quarters on the orphanage’s first floor.

They all wore neuromagnetic helmets. These would stay on their heads until morning. The orphans understood the device they wore was an example of the almost infinite number of scientific breakthroughs made by the military and secret organizations – breakthroughs the public were never privy to. Rare earth magnets were embedded inside each helmet for the purpose of activating certain brain glands. Glands that were dormant in the average person. Doctor Pedemont’s research had revealed the magnets were most effective in advancing the orphans’ brains when used during sleep.

As he ingested his White Gold dosage, Nine found he was experiencing a growing sense of loss at the realization he would never see Helen again. It felt like his heart had been ripped out. The feelings he had for the beautiful girl next door were rapidly being replaced by a horrible emptiness.

Standing by the door, Kentbridge did a quick headcount to confirm all the children were present. Nine alone studied the agent’s face as he counted. The boy could never have guessed that behind his usual cold expression, Kentbridge was incredibly fond of his orphans – or his students, as he thought of them. He took no small amount of pride from the accomplishments they’d already notched up in their short lives. And rightly so. After all, he’d had by far the most input into their intensive upbringing.

Kentbridge looked on as the orphans knelt beside their beds and recited their daily affirmation.

I am an Omegan and a polymath.

Whatever I set my mind to, I always achieve.

The limitations that apply to the rest of humanity,

Do not apply to me.

Observing his orphans as they completed the affirmation and climbed into their beds, Kentbridge wondered how they’d accept the changes he knew would be coming their way. For the time being, it suited Omega to allow the boys and girls to share the same sleeping quarters, but that would end as soon as the oldest reached their teenage years.

It was inevitable some would develop feelings for their fellow orphans – feelings that would go beyond brotherly and sisterly companionship. That would present a whole new set of problems, which Kentbridge preferred not to think about for the moment.

“Get a good night’s rest, team,” he said as he turned out the lights. “Our Omega founders are visiting tomorrow and we’ll need to put on a good show for them.”

#

Lying wide awake in the darkness with his neuromagnetic helmet fastened tight on his head, Nine felt nothing but bitterness inside. He knew if he’d been born into a normal existence, he would have had been able to meet Helen and maybe even take her to the movies or help with her homework at least. Her sultry Mediterranean beauty filled his mind’s eye.

The sound of sobbing nearby distracted him. Someone switched on a bedside lamp and Nine immediately saw the sobbing came from Twenty One, a young, pale-skinned, brown-haired boy. Nine wasn’t surprised. Emotionally, Twenty One was the most fragile of all the orphans and had always had problems coping with the unique lifestyle that had been forced on them. He cried himself to sleep most nights and sometimes woke screaming from a nightmare.

“Cry baby!” Seventeen yelled, laughing aloud at the boy’s sobbing. It was a throaty, merciless laugh.

One, the oldest orphan, rolled out of bed and hurried over to comfort Twenty One. Sitting on the edge of the still sobbing boy’s bed, the mature Native American orphan whispered words of comfort. Twenty One gradually calmed down and the sobbing subsided.

As Numero Uno returned to his bed, and the large room was plunged back into darkness, Nine’s thoughts returned to Helen. He wondered where she and her father were moving to.
Another city?
He hoped not.
Another state?
  He shuddered at the thought.
Another country?
That didn’t bear thinking about.

Whatever the case, he knew he’d never get to meet her now. His romantic fantasy had proven to be just that: a fantasy.

Nine had long since realized that wishing for anything that didn’t fit with the Omega Agency’s agenda, for himself or the other orphans, was pure fantasy. Nothing was possible without the agency’s blessing.
Animals have more freedom than us
.

As his resentment toward Omega grew, he imagined wreaking havoc on his masters. He would love nothing better than for them to experience the emotional and mental anguish he and his fellow orphans endured each day.

Bastards
.

Nine was surprised by the level of rage he felt inside. He’d reached the end of his tether and all he could think about was destroying his Omega masters and securing his freedom. The more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea.

I have to kill them
.

Nine was aware the course of action he was considering would be tantamount to a suicide mission. It would be him, a mere boy, against the mighty Omega Agency. And they wouldn’t take kindly to one of their orphans – one of their major investments – rebelling. But he didn’t care. Now that he’d lost Helen, he was no longer concerned for his own wellbeing.

The dye was cast. He’d do it.

Come what may
.

10
 

Naylor shook with fear as Nine pressed the tip of a wickedly sharp kitchen knife against his throat.

Nine was in the process of taking the Omega director hostage, and he was enjoying the sudden power reversal. Now that Helen had gone, he didn’t care about his own safety anymore. He just wanted to inflict pain on his masters.

Sweat rolled down Naylor’s face and his lazy eye worked overtime, swiveling left and right, as he desperately pondered his predicament. The knife his attacker held remained pressed against his throat. He sensed Nine meant to kill him.