The Samantha Project (19 page)

The man thought about it. “This is ridiculous, but fine, I’ll give you 24 hours. But that’s it. And don’t try anything. We’ve got that rat-trap of yours wired and a crew all around it. Now get out of here.”

Dave quickly got out of the car.
 

“One more thing. I want to see you in my office Monday at 7 a.m. I’m sure we’ll have questions for you once we get her to the lab.”

“Monday? You’re working on Christmas Eve? The office is closed that day.”

“Businesses like ours don’t take a day off, Dave. Now go. And happy holidays,” he said sarcastically. The black sedan sped away just as Dave let go of the door.
 

I woke up in a sweat, looking around to see where I was. The blue lights still glimmered on the tree in my room. The lights in the living room were also still on, filling the cabin with their warm, soft glow. Everything was silent, as it had been when I fell asleep. I looked out the window. The snow had stopped but had left what looked to be about a foot on the ground. The moonlight shined off it, lighting up the dark woods. I went to the kitchen to get a drink. The microwave clock said 3:15.
 

“What are you doing up?”
 

The voice rattled me so much that I dropped my glass, shattering it on the floor. “Uncle Dave, is that you? Where are you?”

“Sorry, I thought you saw me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Help me find a light. I need to clean this up.”

Dave turned on the kitchen light. He grabbed a dustpan under the sink and swept up the broken glass.

“I got it. Don’t worry about it. Go back to bed.”

“I can’t. I just had a bad dream. A really bad dream. More like a nightmare.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Sam.” Dave let out a nervous laugh as he emptied the dustpan into the trash. “Hey, since you can’t sleep, how about another game of pinochle? And let’s put on some Christmas music. That will have you dreaming of sugarplums in no time.”

Dave raced over to the stereo and stuck in a holiday CD. “Um, okay,” I said, looking at him like he had completely lost his mind. “It
is
the middle of the night, you know.”

“Who cares? You said you couldn’t sleep, right?” The music started and he turned it way up. Then he hurried back over to the kitchen and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer.

He scribbled something down and shoved it at me.
“Tell me about the dream, but say it quietly, right into my ear.”

“What? You’re being crazy.” I laughed at him, but the look on his face wasn’t joking. He was serious. I decided to go along with his odd request.

I leaned over to Dave and explained the dream in detail, trying to talk just loud enough that he could hear me above the blaring holiday music. The dream was still fresh in my mind and I was able to retell the dialogue almost word for word.

When I was done, Dave looked like he might get sick.
 

“Uncle Dave, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good.”

“Sam,” he said slowly in a whisper so faint that I could barely hear him. “That was no dream.”

Dave ran to his room and came back with some folded-up sheets of paper. He took my hands and placed the papers between them. He looked at me in a way I had never seen before. It was as if the world were ending within minutes and he didn’t have enough time to warn me.
 

“Uncle Dave, you’re frightening me. What’s going on?”

“Shhhh. Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “Now listen to me. There are some very bad people around the perimeter of this cabin right now. I don’t know how close they are and I don’t know how many are out there. The entire cabin is bugged, even our bedrooms. They are listening to our every word. That’s why the music is on. They’ve blocked the cell phone signal so we can’t call anyone.”

“What? Why?” I began scanning the room. Dave grabbed my arms, forcing me to look at him and see the seriousness in his eyes.

“That dream you had was real, Sam. It happened just as you said, right outside the gas station today. The black sedan you thought you saw? The one you kept seeing at your house? I was in that car today while you were inside the store talking to the old lady. Earlier tonight, when you were sleeping, I was reliving the whole thing in my mind, and I guess you were able to latch onto my thoughts. You have abilities, Sam. This letter explains some of what I mean. Go in your room and read it. Every word. I wrote down as much as I could, but I didn’t have much time. I still don’t have much time because they’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Who’s coming in a few hours? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m asking—no begging—you to trust me, Sam. Please just read it.”

I started to talk again but Dave put his finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. He turned the music off.
 

“I’m getting too tired for cards, Sam. Do you mind if I go to bed?”
 

“Um, no. Go ahead,” I said, playing along. “I think I’ll go to my room and read a book.”

We each headed to our rooms. I got back into bed and unfolded the papers Dave had given me. He had written me some type of letter. I could barely read his handwriting.

Sam, first I want to say that I’m so sorry it has come to this. I truly thought you would live a normal life and never know about any of this. I love you like a daughter, Sam. I really do. So no matter what you think of me after you read this, please know that I never meant to cause harm to you or your parents. I thought I was doing good. I really did. But other people, bad people, tricked me. And that started a whole series of secrets that I had to keep from you and your parents. And it’s killed me to do that! For years, I’ve carried these secrets, and I would have carried them to the grave. But GlobalLife wouldn’t let that happen.

I paused, already confused and angry at what I had read. So Dave had lied to me—to my parents—for all of these years? About what? And why? And what did GlobalLife have to do with it? I kept reading.

Remember how I told you that the fertility procedure for your conception was done at my lab? Well, technically, it wasn’t my lab anymore. GlobalLife had bought my company by then and I was research director, as you already know. At the time, GlobalLife had been experimenting with genetic engineering in humans. It wasn’t just changing a certain gene but also programming the DNA the way you would program a computer. It was similar to the research I did back in grad school, but the research was done in mice, not humans. By inserting software into the cells of mice, I was able to stop the growth of precancerous cells, thus avoiding cancer. The idea is that you could do this with any disease. You just tell the damaged cells to stop growing or to fix themselves. It’s more complicated than that, but you get the idea. If it worked in humans, it would basically mean that diseases would no longer exist.
 

I continued working on that technology when I started my company. When GlobalLife bought the company, they told me they would use their vast resources to bring that technology to life, in humans. But once I was working for them, they told me to abandon that research and work on other types of software that could be implanted into cells to do things like make muscles incredibly strong or make people forget seeing horrible events, such as a violent crime. GlobalLife was looking for ways to make better soldiers. At least that’s what they told me. And it made sense. Military contracts are worth trillions of dollars. This type of technology, which would basically allow a country to engineer the perfect soldier, would make GlobalLife the largest, richest corporation in the world. They had no interest in my cancer research, or any other disease prevention research. Their pharmaceutical division makes far too much money on drugs.
 

So I used the technology to help YOU, Sam. It was my only chance to do something good with it. I programmed your cells to basically turn off any bad cells that would form in your body so that you would avoid most any illness or chronic disease. Even the common cold.
 

I know what you’re thinking. How could I experiment on you like that? How could I do this without telling your parents?
 

Well, that’s not the end of the story. Another team of researchers was working in the lab back then. They were visiting from the GlobalLife headquarters in Sweden. They said they were working on an experimental project. They took your embryo and made other enhancements to certain parts of your DNA. They gave you enhanced genes. That’s the reason you have extraordinary hearing and the ability to see things in your dreams—before, during, or even after they’ve happened. And that’s just the beginning, Sam. You have many more powerful abilities you don’t even know about yet. I don’t even know everything you’re capable of.
 

GlobalLife owns these enhanced genes. They have a patent for them. They own the software associated with them. That means they own you! Or at least that’s their view.
 

When I found out what they had done to you, your mom was already 3 months pregnant and both she and your dad were ecstatic about your arrival. What was I to do? Tell them this secret? I couldn’t do it, Sam. I just couldn’t do it. I can barely do it now. But I would rather have you hear this from me than from someone at GlobalLife.
 

When I found out what had happened, I turned in my resignation. But GlobalLife wouldn’t accept it. They needed me. I’d written codes for them that were more advanced and sophisticated than they had ever seen. The codes I’d written were already being used to develop advanced artificial-intelligence programs. They said that if I left, they would take you away and hurt your parents and I couldn’t let that happen. So I stayed. As the years went by, I became even closer to you and your parents. GlobalLife took advantage of that, threatening to harm all of you if I didn’t do the research they ordered me to do. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. But I couldn’t let them do anything to you or your parents.
 

As you got older, they started watching you more. Following you at school. Some of your teachers were GlobalLife employees, put there to observe you. A few months ago, GlobalLife tapped your phones and planted listening devices and cameras all over your house. Just recently they saw you starting to develop special abilities before they even had a chance to enable them. Your premonitions, your dreams. Your enhanced senses.
 

You were a success, Sam. A success that would make them trillions of dollars. And they weren’t going to let their “successful experiment” just live a normal life. They think you’re their property. That you were simply on loan to your parents. And now they’re taking you back. Back to live in their lab for now. Who knows what they’ll do with you after that. You’ve got to get away, Sam!! You’ve got to let them turn on your abilities, and then you’ve got to run! Your abilities will help you do that.
 

The letter ended abruptly. I sat on the bed unable to move. Must be another dream, I thought. I’ll wake up now to sparkling Christmas lights and snow outside my window. But it wasn’t a dream. I looked up to see Dave anxiously waiting at the door to my room.

“Sam, I know it’s early, but I heard you up. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Dave was giving me a signal with the movie invite and his face was begging me to cooperate. He needed to keep our voices from being heard by the bugs planted throughout the cabin. Playing music again might set off suspicion from our “audience.”

“Sure. This bed isn’t very comfortable, so I keep waking up.”
 

Dave showed relief that I was playing along. “Well, I’ll sleep there from now on and you can have my bed.” He knew that we wouldn’t be staying at the cabin another night, but the lie might convince our captors that I was still clueless about the day’s events.

I followed Dave to the living room, taking the letter with me. He turned on the TV and started playing
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Then he grabbed the pad of paper and pen that he had used earlier.
I’m so sorry, Sam. I can’t express it enough. I never wanted this for you. Really. You can’t think I was in on this.
He was writing fast, making it hard to read his scribbled words. He handed the pad and pen to me so I could write back.

I don’t know what to believe. But I know what you wrote in that letter can’t be real. Genetic engineering? DNA manipulation? People watching us? Listening in? Why are you making up these stories? Haven’t I been through enough already?!
 

I was starting to wake up and realize that his letter was nonsense. I had no idea why he wrote it. Was he playing some game with me? And to what end? I shoved the pad of paper back at him.
 

“This is
real,
Sam,” he spoke in a stern but hushed tone and grabbed my shoulders. I shivered as I looked up at him. His eyes were filled with terror. It was as if he feared that his life could end at any moment.
 

He pulled me close so he could whisper. “You don’t know what they’re capable of. And I don’t have time to tell you. They gave me 24 hours to say goodbye to you, and we’re almost out of time. So I need you to listen to me.”

My head was spinning. Was he lying? Was he mentally ill? Why was he doing this? The look in his face made me want to believe him, but what he was telling me was completely insane. I tried to calm him down.
 

“Okay, now who is ‘they’ that you keep talking about?” I whispered.

“The man in the black sedan that you saw in your dream? It’s Alden. Alden Worthings.” Dave continued to whisper. “The man who runs GlobalLife Genetics. You know how you’ve seen that black sedan at your house for weeks now? He’s had people watching you, keeping an eye on you to make sure I don’t take you and run. And I would have tried! I haven’t slept for weeks trying to find a way to get you out of here safely. But it’s no use. These people—they’re everywhere, Sam.”