The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(12)

“Caleb, you f*cker, you will let them go, now—”

“Darren,” he says. “How convenient that you called.”

“I mean it, I’ll—”

“Whatever you’re planning to do,” he says smugly, “save it for when you arrive at the Temple. I want it to be a surprise.”

And with that, the * hangs up on me.

I’m so angry that I spend the entire drive playing out revenge fantasies in my mind.





Chapter 5





“Mothershitter,” Eugene says after I finish relaying the story of my morning. His accent is stronger than ever, and his usually calm voice is loud, the tension in it reverberating through the lab. “If they harm one hair—”

“Dude, calm down,” says Bert. He’s been Eugene’s computer guy and lab assistant for the last ten days.

“It’s clear they won’t harm Mira,” Hillary echoes.

Though I doubt she visits the lab as often as her boyfriend, she was in the neighborhood when I texted her to come over; she and Bert were planning to do brunch.

“Okay, guys. Now that I’ve told you everything, I have to ask: What the hell is this monkey”—I point to the animal standing with an iPad in the middle of the room—“doing here?”

I noticed the monkey when I first entered the lab, but I was so wound up that I blurted out the whole story in one breath. Somewhat more relaxed now, I can reflect on the incredulity of an uncaged simian hanging out in the midst of all the brain-monitoring equipment and other gadgets that make up Eugene’s mad scientist dwelling.

“She’s not a monkey,” Eugene says, switching to his pedantic tone. “She’s an ape.”

“Okay,” I say. “Let me rephrase. What’s this ‘damn dirty ape’ doing here?”

“Hey now,” Hillary says. “Kiki is actually obsessed with hygiene.”

I look Kiki over. She returns my gaze curiously. Of course I know she’s an ape. I called her a monkey because I find that word funnier. Kiki is one of the higher apes, either a chimpanzee or a bonobo. She doesn’t strike me as a clean freak, given the diaper, but who knows? She’s currently wearing one of Eugene’s head contraptions—not unlike some he’s had me wear. What’s really impressive is her exemplary behavior. After glancing at me, she returns her attention to her iPad, no monkey business whatsoever.

“I’m sorry, Kiki,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Oh, stop it, you two,” Bert butts in. “She’s obviously our lab rat, err, chimp.”

“Right,” I say and look at my aunt. “And you’re okay with this?”

“No,” she says. “But Eugene developed this ‘super safe’ device that includes the TMS machine you bought him, and he was about to test it on Bert. So I figured—”

“That you’d rather he test it on a chimp than your boyfriend.” I chuckle despite my worry.

“TMS is FDA approved,” Hillary says defensively. “It should indeed be safe. I’m just being extra cautious.”

She sounds as though she really does feel guilty that she put Bert’s wellbeing above that of Kiki’s.

TMS stands for Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation. It’s a machine I got for Eugene’s lab from FBTI, a company I was researching for work before I met Eugene. According to what I’ve read, it’s as safe as can be, since it uses magnetic force as its modus operandi. Then again, if something is approved to treat depression, it’s bound to do something to the brain, and Eugene is clearly using it off-label.

“So because you were worried about Bert, you walked to the nearest zoo and nabbed a lab monkey?” I ask, this whole development lifting my mood slightly.

“No,” Hillary says. Her small face darkens. “I got Kiki as part of my animal rescue program. She belonged to an idiot in New Jersey.”

“Hillary, I can’t listen to your Greenpeace crap while my sister is being held hostage,” Eugene says irritably.

Bert glares at him. “You never want to hear it.” Then he turns to me. “When he saw poor Kiki, the first thing he wanted to do was install an electrode in her brain.”

In Eugene’s defense, he probably would’ve installed an electrode in his own brain long ago if Mira hadn’t been around to stop him. What’s more interesting is that Bert is defending his girlfriend. I feel like a parent who’s realized their kid is all grown up, only I wish he’d stand up to my aunt from time to time, just to reassure me that he’s not her mind-controlled puppet. It’s suspicious how he’s been in perfect harmony with my aunt’s wishes from the start. There’s *-whipped, and then there’s what Bert’s become under a maybe-too-hot-for-him girlfriend who can manipulate his mind to boot. If Bert wasn’t deliriously happy throughout all of this, I’d feel bad for having set them up.

“If anyone’s in danger, it’s Thomas,” Hillary retorts. “As far as your Leacher leaders are concerned, he’s a Pusher. I can’t even imagine what they will—”

“I hope they understand that if they do anything to Thomas, they can forget whatever it is they want from me,” I say, my anger returning.