Undisclosed (6 page)

“What other choice do we have?”

Scott clenched his teeth and turned his head sharply towards Kaine, who was engaged in conversation with a high-ranking military official.

“Scott, you had better get it together. We’ve got more than our careers riding on this,” James snapped.

“Use serum 230. It will buy us some time, at least until we can completely test the other one and see what it does,” he said. “How many more must suffer?” Scott hung his head low and then let out a tired sigh. He proceeded to make his way to the back of the room.

“Gentleman,” James said.

As a hush fell over the room, James gave a nod and the lights went out. The wall in front of them parted like steel jaws. Light burst through and as their eyes adjusted to the glare, they could see a small operational room; masked doctors and nurses in surgical garments were busy preparing two male subjects strapped onto vertically angled operational tables.

“Approximately ten hours ago our male subject was given an implant with serum 229, a genetic therapy meant to work with the inactive non-decoded DNA, or what some of you may know to be Junk DNA
.
Within minutes of the initial release of the serum we saw indications of increased performance, cellular repair, but any positive signs of improvement were quickly replaced by new forms of disease, hours later. As with previous subjects over the past two years the changes in the genetic enhancers began rapidly showing signs of disease attacking vital organs, and as you can see, that resulted in an increased and noticeable malformation of the face and chest area. Based on previous trials we can conclude that, like the others, he will be dead by the twelfth hour,” James said.

“Taking into consideration these recent findings, the immune system’s reaction to the serum, we made further changes in the DNA sequencing and created a new implant containing serum 230. As you can appreciate, we haven’t had time to perform a test with this, until now.”

His eyes cast a glance at Scott for second before turning to give a reluctant nod towards the doctor in the operation room; they proceeded to insert the implant into the second patient. The doctor pressed a button on a panel beside the patient before he checked his pulse, and then he observed the patient’s vital signs on the ECG monitor. Meanwhile, everyone else waited with bated breath.

Scott stared over at Kaine, who was taking a long sip of brandy, not shifting his eyes for a second; they were locked on the patient, and he appeared to be relishing every moment of this, like a child waiting to open a gift.

Vital signs indicated a steady, yet slight increase in heartbeat. Further time passed without any change in the subject.

After exceeding the time of the previous patient’s initial reactions, Dr. Evans turned confidently towards the rest of the group, tucking his hands into his white overalls, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“Gentlemen, I believe now that only time and further research will allow us to see the full effects of serum 230 and its activation of the non-active DNA, and yet, we are confident that today has demonstrated the positive progress that is being made with these trials, and we feel we have managed successfully to control—”

Dr. Evans was cut off as an alarm rang out. The body of the patient began convulsing, his head lifting and thrashing in waves of spasms. The ECG beeps increased in intensity, and nurses and the doctor scurried around, grappling to restrain the patient’s arms and feet, which had broken free from the steel restraints as easily as if they were threads. Military personnel burst through a side door and leaped into action, only to be thrown against a wall as if an invisible force had knocked them backwards. Equipment spontaneously burst into flames, sparks flying. Others collapsed to their knees gripping their ears, and nurses attempting to run were torn off the ground and pinned against the ceiling. The subject’s body twisted as he let out a deep guttural groan and blood spewed from his mouth; he stumbled back, wires loosely hanging from his body as he fell to the floor. All that could be heard now was the faint sound of a continual beeeeeeeep—the patient had flatlined.

Through the splattered, blood-smeared glass a doctor could be seen cowering in a corner. Realizing that he was being watched, he slowly edged towards a metallic table and reached for a defibrillator. He slapped a button and cautiously pressed the panels against the nonresponsive patient’s chest. A sudden jolt of movement as the subject’s body reacted to a firing of the paddles; a short moment—and still nothing. The doctor turned and gave them a resigned glance.

Scott gave a sideways glance at Kaine, trying to gauge anything from his expression, but it indicated nothing. He simply sat there, motionless.

* * * * *

A few minutes later Scott was seated across from a large desk inside a windowless office, a stainless steel room that was kept in pristine condition. The glare of the overhead fluorescent lights only intensified the headache that had been building earlier. Harlan Kaine sat on the other side of the desk, leaning backwards in his seat, slightly rocking as he snipped off the end of a Cuban with his shiny gold-colored cigar cutter.

“How is your son doing?” Kaine asked, rolling a cigar between his fingers

“Fine,” Scott replied, not wanting to go there.

“Must have been hard for him to lose his brother. Loss really can take its toll on people, don’t you think?” he said, dropping his cigar cutter on the table and spinning his chair towards Scott before lighting it. Scott remained silent, observing as Kaine’s face disappeared behind a thick curtain of grey smoke.

“We’re testing too early, Mr. Kaine, we need more time.”

“More time?” Kaine smiled, stood up and moved around the table, leaning himself against the desk. “Have I ever told you about my wife?”

“No,” Scott murmured.

“Ah, she was beautiful. Everything a man could desire. She taught me many things.” His eyes glazed over as he became lost in thought for a moment. “She wanted me to believe that humanity had goodness—that we could live together in peace, if we gave them more time. She was very convincing and for a moment I believed her. One evening I came home and she was gone, taking our child with her. As you can imagine, I was beside myself. It took me months to track her down—but I eventually found her.”

Scott coughed as a waft of smoke blew his way.

“She was with another man. It seemed that she had her own reason for wanting more time. Still, I consider myself a fair man. I tried to give her the option to return, that if she would come back, I would forget it all. And she refused.”

Kaine puffed out another billow of smoke and turned towards Scott.

“You see, Scott … humanity is flawed, despite all its best efforts, all its advancements and its belief that it can correct itself. It will forever continue to destroy itself. It’s incapable of understanding why. And no amount of time will change that.”

He straightened up, motioning for Scott to walk with him to the door.

“That’s why we have a marvelous opportunity here. Think of it like—giving evolution a slight nudge in the right direction.” He waved his hand as if conducting a symphony. “A mere speeding up the process.”

“But it’s killing people. How many more people must die? You said it would help.”

“And it will. Oh, Scott, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And you’re so close.”

Scott swallowed; if Kaine only knew.

He halted.

“It will be humanity’s greatest gift. Yes, that’s it, a gift!” he said as his lip curled up.

“So, as you can see, it’s critical for humanity that we continue to move ahead now, that we don’t hold off any longer. Unless you have some other reason. Do you?”

Scott swallowed; he knew that he couldn’t show any sign of indecisiveness.

“No, sir,” he shot back.

“Good.” They continued walking to the door. It slid apart, and Scott ambled through the exit, contemplating what Kaine had said. He paused and turned back. Kaine studied him with a slight glint in his eye.

“You never told me—I mean, what happened to the man your wife was with?”

“Nothing. I simply took back what was mine,” he said, giving him a look devoid of all emotion.

Scott turned and went on his way. The way Kaine spoke the words sent a chill down his spine. He knew now, more than ever, he had to go through with what he had planned to do.

Chapter Five

“So, are you coming over later?” Ryan asked. “The old man left some brewskis in the fridge.”

Kids were streaming out of classes, buzzing around them like flies as Travis threw a few belongings into his locker.

“Ah, I wish—I can’t, man, I said I would fill in for my mom tonight. Anyway, I have no way of getting over there. The bike’s in the pound until I can get it out.”

“Use the transit.”

“Nah, another night, yeah?”

Ryan shrugged.

Travis was relieved the day was almost over. He wanted to get out of these sweaty, overcrowded hallways and away from—

Too late. Travis grimaced. Closing in fast were Emily and her bitchy friend, Amber. Emily had gorgeous short cropped blonde hair, green eyes and wasn’t too skinny, but he liked that in a girl; there were far too many that were paranoid about overeating. Amber, well, she could have put a brown bag over her head and it still wouldn’t have been an improvement—God, he hated her. If there was ever a reason that Emily and he had never really had the chance to hit it off, or the opportunity to spend time together, it was because of Amber; she always invited herself along like an annoying third wheel.

He had been seeing Emily for a couple of years. He’d met her out at the dome one weekend.

At first, Emily had been pretty cool. There was never any pressure, they had things in common and he loved hanging out with her, but over time her need to be entertained had taken its toll, especially since Will’s funeral. Come to think of it, Travis thought, it was probably before that, not that long after she had hooked up with Amber—it was like she was a different person when she was with her.

Everything had to be exciting, new and expensive. He never really felt quite like himself when he was with her. Silence had become awkward and uncomfortable. More often than not he felt compelled to keep the conversation going and it always felt like he was walking on egg shells.

Emily gestured to him. “Travis … can we talk?” Emily said. She moved off to one side as Travis approached. Amber followed suit.

“Is your name Travis?” Travis spat, glaring at Amber, who was hanging like a leech to Emily’s arm.

“Oh, let’s not beat around the bush—it’s over, she’s found someone else,” Amber shot out, giving Travis a gleeful smile, as if she couldn’t wait for Emily to dump his ass.

Her face went scarlet red as she raised her hand to brush away her hair. “Amber,” Emily snapped.

Ryan overheard and quickly stepped in. “Well … I guess that’s that. Let’s go, man.” He clasped hold of Travis’s arm to follow him. Travis shrugged him off.

“No, I think I want to hear this.”

“Oh … please.” Amber said.

“Look, Travis—” Emily began.

“You’re just too damn boring,” Amber spat out, cutting her off.

Travis laughed. “Are you friggin’ kidding me?” he said. “What, so you waited until after your birthday to tell me this? And this is the best you can come up with? I’m boring? What, I’m not enough of an adrenaline junkie for you? You now have to go off and sleep with someone else behind my back?”

“Travis, this is hard enough as it is.”

“Oh, really,” he said, scowling. “Well, let’s make it a little harder, shall we,” he said, reaching out his hand in front of her. “The necklace, I want it.”

“What?”

“The necklace.”

“Why?”

“I don’t ever recall you thanking me for it.”

“I did.”

“Uh … no, you just took it and didn’t say a word—so I’ll give it to someone who would actually appreciate it.”

It was an awkward moment as she stared at him. He could see she was clearly taken aback by the comment—the look on her face was priceless—but after all he had done for her, he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Realizing he was serious, she reached around the back of her neck, unlocked the silver chain and thrust it into his open hand.

Travis spun on his toes and strode away. Behind him he could hear Amber consoling Emily. “What a loser. Good riddance to him.”

“Oh, shut up, Amber,” Emily mumbled.

Ryan caught up with him, walking swiftly beside him.

“Nice one. You okay, man?”

“Yeah,” Travis spouted. He wasn’t really quite sure what he expected him to say. All he knew was he didn’t want to show how he really felt. Truthfully, he felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him and it hurt like hell.

* * * * *

That evening, before locking up the store, Travis walked around back and threw two large black bags into the large metal green Dumpster. The smell coming from it was nauseating. He let out the breath he had held in as he walked further away. As he made his way back to the front, sorting through a stack of mail that his mother still hadn’t gotten to, broken pieces of memories rushed back about how so much had changed over the past year. Most teens his age spent their evenings at the mall, studying or getting off with the opposite sex, but that wasn’t a possibility for Travis, even if he wanted to. His mother was once vibrant, someone who rarely felt down, she was the one who usually picked people up off the floor, but now she had just lost her drive to show up. Rick covered the shifts on most days and Travis did his best to get there in the evenings. But doing school in the day, working at the store immediately after until late, was starting to catch up with him, and he was pretty sure Rick was struggling too. Rick had been helping for years—he had always been there to help—but there was only so much a person could do before even they would decide to call it a day. Bills; nearly every single one of the envelopes contained final notices.