Oculus (Oculus #1) Page 8

  One of the first I find is a basement, the remnants of a hospital that was torn down long ago. A faded bronze plaque, now green with age, proclaims this to be the site of the San Luis Obispo General Hospital. There are no signs that Fenra Security has ever been here and at first it seems ideal. After checking out the layout though I realize it only has two points of egress and poor lines of sight. In the end, I find the perfect hide out in the shed where Benson met his end. The Corp has cleaned and sterilized it. The locks have been removed on the door and the power lines cut. Tons of junk has been dumped around it, leaving it looking derelict. They appear to be trying to isolate the building from the residents. As the saying goes, out of sight, out of mind.

  I amuse myself by slipping around Fenra security without them having a clue I I’m even here. I pilfer some clothes, furniture and rations from The Corp stores. I also help myself to five banned books I find in the basement of the hospital. They’re hidden in a sub-basement room that looks like it has seen some recent use. Within a day of my arrival I have made myself at home, pretty much under Fenra’s nose. In fact, the accommodations are the best I’ve enjoyed since I left the shack behind.

  The books are a peculiar discovery, not something I would have expected to find inside a Corp perimeter. War and Peace by Tolstoy; Frankenstein by Shelly; The Scarlett Letter by Hawthorne; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by Lewis; and The Time Machine by Wells. Every one of them is on the black list of books that would get you sent to an internment camp. Whoever is running security for Fenra is either a sympathizer or an absolute moron.

  The only book I haven’t read is Frankenstein. I’m surprised Anna had never mentioned the book to me, as it was published by the same company that put out most of what is considered classic literature. After reading it, I realize why this particular title had been left on the shelf. Reading it puts me in a foul mood, maybe because it hits too close to home. Something about being a monster crafted in a lab gives me a thin skin about reading about another one. Though I can relate to his desire to kill his creator.

  Sneaking out past the perimeter guards, I spend a few hours running. I’m just coming back from bathing in a nearby pond when I spot a bunch of kids sneaking around. I follow them down into the old hospital basement. A few minor attempts have been made to secure the place, but it won’t slow down a first year Corp security agent.

  I find a comfortable roost in the junction of two cement walls and settle in to watch. The group gets into an uproar when a straggler comes in with two girls, but it turned out the straggler is the ringleader. He gives an impassioned speech about corporate oppression that almost makes me laugh out loud. His words remind me of one of the wide-eyed revolutionary in Les Miserables. Likely, he’s going to end up the same way, dead in a ditch.

  One of the girls that came with him throws a fit and I use the noise to cover my retreat. As I head back to my hideout I’m chilled to see three security men hiding in the shadows between two buildings. I have the overwhelming impulse to kill them and hide their bodies. It takes a concerted effort of will to walk away. Back in the shed, I turn the situation over and over in my head.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I didn’t come all this way, go to all this effort to set up a refuge, just to throw it away killing random security agents. Is this what I have to look forward to? Going insane, slowly losing the ability to reason? Killing people indiscriminatingly?

  My gaze falls on Frankenstein, lying mockingly under my makeshift bed, the black lettering on the spine winking at me in the light of my candles. With a wordless growl I grab a shirt from my bag and toss it over the book. My hand brushes against the cover of the leather bound copy of The Count of Monte Cristo that Anna left with the bookseller for me. I haven’t even looked at it since that day, simply thrust it into my bag and ignored it.

  With gentle reverence, I pull the book from my pack. Collapsing onto my bed, I let the book fall open, revealing the envelope inside. Taking the letter into my hand I set the book carefully aside. Examining the envelope I see Anna had taken the time to write my name upon the front in beautiful calligraphic script.

  Sicarius.

  Slipping my fingernail in the line of paper and glue I unseal the envelope and pull the heavy sheaf of papers from within. The words are written in code, a complicated cypher that Anna had taught me. It takes only a few seconds for my mind to translate the marks on the paper and the first line becomes clear.

  Dear Son,

  The letter falls from my hand to the floor as those two words cause me to unravel. Tears that I had thought were gone, well up and spill forth. For a time, I lose myself to the madness of grief. When I’m again in control, I’m glad for the solidness of the structure I find myself in, as well as it’s soundproofing. Otherwise, Fenra Security might find me this very night. Steeling myself against what is to come, I pick up the papers from the floor, put them back in order, and begin to read.

  Dear Son,

  I’ve never been prone to sentimentality. The scientist in me has always had trouble seeing the purpose in wasting valuable energy in drivel like emotion. There have been two men in my life that caused me to question this. One was a man that died many years ago. The other was you. You are my child. I may not have given birth to you, but over the years I’ve come to think of you as my own. I may have failed you in life, but I hope in death I can at least give you the facts you need to survive.

  You know very well that you are the product of an artificial womb. What you don’t know, what I could never bring myself to tell you, is that I was the creator of that technology. Because of me, Talpa was almost able to destroy the world and remake it into whatever image they wanted. Because of me, they were able to create you children, torture all of you, and kill all but you. I’m responsible for all of the torment that you went through.

  I took you from that horrible place and have tried to redeem both of us since then. But the past is painful, more painful than I realized before I started writing this letter. Your genetic code was something that I helped to create with a man named Patrick Tierney. He worked for Talpa willingly, a true visionary in genetic science. His work was decades ahead of anything I had ever seen before. It was his stabilization protocols that allowed us to produce near perfect specimens far beyond anything that Talpa had achieved in the past.

  After I was brought to work with him, the two of us fell in love. The long hours and intense working conditions were hard to live under. We found solace in each other’s arms. We married in secret, unwilling to give Talpa any more leverage to use against us. The two of us hatched a plan, with the help of a third scientist who was a pioneer in the field of neurochemistry. The three of us were disturbed by the direction our research was taking.

  We managed to get word out to The Resistance. They brought everything they could against Talpa, managing to overwhelm the defenses on our facility. As we had no way to communicate with them we had no idea when the actual attack would come. As fate would have it, Patrick was in another part of the facility when a member of The Resistance found me. The attack was ongoing and she was there to get us out. I sent her to look for Patrick and went to find you. I had thought to find you alone and sedated, but you know how that turned out.

  I never planned on the lab fire being as big as it was. It kept us from passing back to where I had hoped to meet up with Patrick. Once we escaped, I tried to find out what happened to him. From what I was told he went back to get the girl that was the other half of your genetic pair. He must have thought if we got you both out we could use your talents against The Corp. When the fire from the lab spread, the building that she was in exploded. In my haste to cover our escape, I may have killed the only man that I have ever loved and your other half.

  When you told me about your dreams, I should have talked to you. But after so much time had passed I couldn’t find the words I needed. I’m not making excuses, I’m simply telling you my reasons. Even writing about this tears at my heart, but I need to explain a
few things to you about the experiments.

  There were three stages to what Talpa wanted to do. The artificial womb was going to give them unlimited soldiers. Just cook up a batch and a month later you have a full term baby. Genetics allowed them to custom design their creations in whatever manner they wanted. This was how they crafted you into a living weapon. It also allowed them to make the perfect spy. The other half of your genetic pairing was a female psychic.

  She was designed to be able to see and hear things that happened in remote locations. Further, they suspected she would be able to communicate with you over long distances and might possess nearly unlimited mental potential. We were able to test these abilities in other subjects, with limited success. Two other viable couples came to term as you two did. One became unviable when the male became violent after a technician raped his partner. They were both terminated, as was the technician. The second couple became unviable after the female was exposed to escalating violence and had a psychotic episode. She began manifesting incredible mental abilities and had to be terminated before she destroyed the facility. Her counterpart was shot while trying to save her.

  It is imperative that you understand something about yourself. There was never any mental instability in the male subjects. That lie was told and retold as a tool to keep you in check. You need to know that any mental break you might experience would be totally normal. Totally human. They would have nothing to do with any perceived defect in your creation.

  I wish Patrick had been able to save your other half, for both our sakes. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed him. Life would have been completely devoid of joy, had it not been for you. I am so very sorry for what I have kept from you. I did it because I was afraid. Of bringing you pain but also of how you would look at me. Now, I have no choice but to give you this information. You need to know what you are and where you came from if you are going to survive.

  You also need to know that you are not a freak. You were trained to be a weapon, designed to be fit and agile, tortured to be heartless. But in the end, they all failed. Yes, you are a killer. Because you choose to be. But you are not heartless, you are not the monster that you pretend to be. I know this, because I have seen the love that you have for me. I know this because of the love I hold in my heart for you.

  Though I can no longer physically be with you, I want you to know that I shall forever be with you, in your heart.

  All of my love to you, my wonderful son,

  Anna

  I read the letter again and again, until the candle sputters out. Sitting in the darkness, my mind reels in horror and wonder. Again the written word has reached out of the page and pulled me apart. Having it done by someone I know—knew is a new experience. As the shock of the moment wears off, I run the words through my head, trying to wrap my mind around the ultimate truth.

  I’m not crazy. She kept secrets…things I never could have guessed in my most wild of imaginations. But, how could she keep this from me? Could she not see how this weighed upon me? Damn her! She was the one person I could count on to tell me the truth! And to know that the girl was real? That she was designed to be with me? What does that make me? Half a man? Even human?

  Rising from the bed, I move out into the night. I need to run, to think, to make sense of all that I had just read. I slip past the security perimeter is easily and I’m out into the darkness. Letting my feet lead me away into the night, I try to burn out the whirling of my mind.

  PASSING THROUGH THE SCANNERS AT the Fenra Security building has me feeling like a character from a story my dad used to tell me. The tale he recited time and again is of a girl who fell through a hole chasing a rabbit and ended up facing an entire land of strange creatures.

  Walking through the main entrance feels like falling through a hole and into a new realm filled with things that will, undoubtedly, be very new to me. My claim to be more useful than people often view me is great in theory, but a theory is exactly what it is. Aside from worrying about the unnervingly close proximity of Chief Ingram and whatever his intentions are, I’m also worried that maybe I won’t make a very good employee. If I expect to earn my way with Fenra, I must not only find something that I can do without sight, I have to be good at it too.

  The droning of the scanner at the front entrance of the building begins to fade into the rest of the organic noise within the building as I tap along further into the building. Hattie offered to escort me today but I want her as far away from my mess as possible.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the person, a man, who bumped my shoulder. He doesn’t say anything in response. A masculine fragrance wafts up at me in his wake and I find myself feeling very nervous and much more aware of my shortcomings than I normally am. I’ve had twenty-one years to get used to being blind, and I have, but there are still those days when I feel insecure, vulnerable, and sorry for myself.

  A nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that by the time I get home I’ll likely be feeling sorry for myself quite a bit and it will be my turn to sip from one of my father’s stubby whiskey glasses.

  The morning traffic in the building grows heavier as I try my best to make my way to Chief Ingram’s office. The man I asked for directions didn’t bother offering his assistance, which is fine.

  I don’t want to make them see that they, as a society, are right about me. I need to prove to Fenra, to everyone in this compound, and most importantly to myself that I’m willing and able enough to do real work.

  Despite my pep talk on my way here this morning, I find my resolute confidence fading quickly.

  “Watch it,” someone mumbles in a low voice as he passes right by me. Apparently I walk too slowly for people in this building. I’m distracted, off kilter and it forces me to stop in my tracks to recall what my directions were.

  The leather strap attached to my stick jerks my arm forward as someone trips over me sending me careening to the ground. I fall forward and end up landing on my hands and knees. Pain shocks upward through my kneecaps ending somewhere in my gut. With a deep breath I feel for my stick, intent on getting right up off the floor on my own and getting to Ingram’s office. This is not what I envisioned for myself when I made the decision to come here this morning.

  “What in the fuck?”

  “Asshole,” I grit, refusing to acknowledge the burn of tears threatening to embarrass me further.

  “What a mouth,” Ingram’s familiar voice says into my ear as he lifts me easily to my feet.

  “I assume you’re here to see me?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m glad. You’re pretty smart for being so reckless. More on that later, though. Let’s go see what we can find for you, shall we?” His voice is cajoling and unruffled, but it catalyzes the opposite effect in me.

  “Yes. Thank you.” I allow him to keep my arm in his for guidance. It’s no easy task to calm my frayed nerves, but I smooth my clothing and remove a wisp of hair clinging stubbornly to the balm on my lips. I collect myself on the outside, but I’m anything but calm on the inside.

  I feel preyed upon. I feel watched. I feel as if I’m being studied, picked apart. I also feel confused. If he believes that my walking in alone was reckless then I’ll soon make him understand that it was more stubborn will than recklessness. I have to prove myself, and walking into a building I don’t have a mental map for yet was necessary not reckless. He’ll soon be quite clear on just how willful I can be. I may be blind but I play victim to nobody. Not even blindness.

  “You’re heart is racing,” he noted, pressing his fingers firmly into the crook of my arm.

  “You put up a good front, though.”

  “Falling on your face in front of a bunch of people can have that effect,” I answer dryly.

  Ingram chuckles deeply and in spite of myself I have to admit it sounds nice. He has a nice voice. Hattie said he was handsome. She also compared him to stomach acid. But he’s not some cave-dwelling monster, he has a nice laugh, and apparently he wants s
omething from me. I don’t approve of his tactics for luring me here, but being tactless isn’t a crime. I’m not sure exactly what I’m willing to give in return for a job, a future, but I am willing to at least hear him out. I’d be a moron if I didn’t and last time I checked, I’m blind not daft. I’m also a woman. Women enjoy the company of men all the time. Maybe I’ll enjoy Ingram’s company.

  Somewhere deep inside I chide myself for playing devil’s advocate but I have to. I have to try to see a silver lining here.

  He coaxes me gently to a stop and releases me so that he can be scanned. His office door slides open and he’s greeted. “Good. Morning. Chief. Ingram.” His fingers wrap around my forearm and he pulls me forward.

  The door makes a sloof noise as it closes behind me without me being scanned.

  “Sit.” I’m placed in a metal chair. I can hear him moving about the space. He pours a drink—two drinks. A cup lands in front of me. Glass on metal. The scent of coffee intermingles with the clean scent coming from Ingram. “Now, have you come here to tell me that you’re prepared to work for me?”

  “For the Security Department, yes.”

  “For me.”

  “Semantics don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps. Either way, you’re here now aren’t you?”

  “I am. What will I be doing?”

  His footfalls on the floor are light but they make every hair on the back of my neck prick. “You, Iris, will be doing whatever I want you to,” he said menacingly calm.

  “I—can try typing, but I can’t promise that I won’t make errors. I could try other clerical work.”

  “I have other things in mind,” he says while coming to sit directly in front of me. He reaches forward and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear causing me to flinch.

  “Like what?”

  “I’ll get to that, but first you must agree to the same security contract that everyone in this building has. Security jargon. Forbids disclosing classified information to anyone without department clearance. That kind of thing. Would you like me to read it aloud?”