Recursion(22)
Lifting her face to the sky, she screams back.
Day 598
Someone is knocking at her door. Reaching out in the darkness, she turns on the lamp and climbs out of bed in pajama bottoms and a black tank top. The alarm clock on her desk shows 9:50 a.m.
She moves into the living room and toward the door, hitting the button on the wall to raise the blackout curtains.
Slade is standing in the corridor in jeans and a hoodie—first time she’s laid eyes on him in weeks.
He says, “Shit, I woke you.”
She squints at him under the glare of the light panels in the ceiling.
“Mind if I come in?” he asks.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Please, Helena.”
She takes a step back and lets him enter, following him down the short entryway, past the powder room, and into the main living space.
“What do you want?” she asks.
He takes a seat on the ottoman of an oversize chair, beside the windows that look out into a world of infinite sea.
He says, “They tell me you aren’t eating or exercising. That you haven’t spoken to anyone or gone outside in days.”
“Why won’t you let me talk to my parents? Why won’t you let me leave?”
“You aren’t well, Helena. You’re in no state of mind to protect the secrecy of this place.”
“I told you I wanted out. My mom’s in a facility. I don’t know how she’s doing. My dad hasn’t heard my voice in a month. I’m sure he’s worried—”
“I know you can’t see it right now, but I am saving you from yourself.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“You checked out, because you disagreed with the direction I was taking this project. All I’ve been doing is giving you time to reconsider throwing everything away.”
“It was my project.”
“It’s my money.”
Her hands tremble. With fear. With rage.
She says, “I don’t want to do this anymore. You have ruined my dream. You have blocked me from trying to help my mom and others. I want to go home. Are you going to continue keeping me here against my will?”
“Of course not.”
“So I can leave?”
“Do you remember what I asked you the first day you got here?”
She shakes her head, tears coming.
“I asked if you wanted to change the world with me. We are standing on the shoulders of all the brilliant work you’ve done, and I came here this morning to tell you that we’re almost there. Forget everything that’s happened in the past. Let’s cross the finish line together.”
She stares at him across the coffee table, tears gliding down her face.
“What are you feeling?” he asks. “Talk to me.”
“Like you stole this thing away from me.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth. I stepped in when your vision flagged. That’s what partners do. Today is the biggest day of my life and yours. It’s everything we’ve been working toward. That’s why I came up here. The deprivation tank is ready. The reactivation apparatus has been retrofitted to work inside. We’re running a new test in ten minutes, and this is the big one.”
“Who’s the test subject?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“Just a guy getting paid twenty grand a week to make the ultimate sacrifice for science.”
“And you told him how dangerous this research is?”
“He’s fully aware of the risks. Look, if you want to go home, pack your bags and be at the helipad at noon.”
“What about my contract?”
“You promised me three years. You’ll be in breach. You’ll forfeit your compensation, profit participation, everything. You knew the ground rules going in. But if you want to finish what we started, come down to the lab with me right now. It’s going to be a day for the record books.”
BARRY
November 6, 2018
Strapped into a chair in a waking nightmare, Barry says, “It was October twenty-fifth. Eleven years ago.”
“What’s the first thing you remember when you think of it?” the man asks. “The most potent image or feeling?”
Barry is caught in the strangest juxtaposition of emotion. He wants to break this man in half, but the thought of Meghan that night is on the verge of breaking him.
He answers in monotone, “Finding her body.”
“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear. Not after she was gone. Before.”
“The last time I spoke to her.”
“That’s what I want you to talk about.”
Barry stares across the room, gritting his teeth.
“Please continue, Detective Sutton.”
“I’m sitting in my chair in my living room, watching the World Series.”
“Do you remember who was playing?”
“Red Sox and Rockies. Game two. The Sox had won the first game. They would take the series in four straight.”
“Who were you rooting for?”
“I didn’t really care. I guess I wanted to see the Rockies tie it up, keep the series interesting. Why are you doing this to me? What purpose does—”