Whisper (Whisper #1)(34)
“Jane?”
I whip my neck to the side and feel my pulse skitter erratically at the sight of Cami jogging over to me, looking as stunned to see me as I am to see her.
Cami is here. In this place. The betrayal I feel — it’s like fire burning in my blood.
Why.
Didn’t.
She.
Tell.
Me?
Her eyes flick from me to Falon. “What — um, what are you doing here, Uncle Rick?”
She looks nervous, agitated, uncertain. I’m feeling the same way.
“According to Landon, Jane had a breakthrough today, and in doing so, saved Abby’s life,” Falon says.
It’s his only indication of gratitude for my earlier actions. But my heart still twists with alarm, especially with his next words.
“It would appear that she’s finally ready to commit herself to the program here at Lengard.”
The program. The program everyone keeps mentioning but no one has ever explained. I’m beginning to understand now. But — God — I have so many questions.
I was given a month to show Lengard that I was worth keeping alive. I guess the only proof they ever needed was for me to open my mouth.
Maybe that was what they were waiting for all along. For me to “commit” myself. For me to prove that … that I am one of them.
But now that they know, where does that leave me?
“What kind of breakthrough?” Cami asks. “Is Abby okay?”
“Go find your brother if you want the details, Camelot.” Falon waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Jane and I have much to discuss, so you’ll have to excuse us.”
He starts walking forward, gesturing for me to keep up. I stumble after him, unable to bring myself to look back at Cami for fear of what I will see in her expression. For fear of what I will feel, wondering how long she has known about me, why she has concealed the truth.
“In here, Jane,” Falon directs me. He has stopped outside a door lodged in the side of the massive training room.
I step through to discover a classroom-sized rectangular room with walls made of glossy black material. The floor and ceiling are black, too, though both have veins of pearlescent stone spiderwebbing along the surfaces. Blue and white lights just like those in the larger training area illuminate this new, smaller space, showing me that there is absolutely nothing in the room. No furniture, no books, nothing. Other than the door we used to enter, there are no exits.
That door slides closed and seals with a hiss. Now Falon and I are trapped together in this glossy room. Less than a month ago he was ready to write me off. Now I have no idea what his intentions are.
“I was never entirely certain about you,” Falon says.
He looks relaxed, but his eyes are assessing me.
“Vanik was always sure, right from the very beginning. The moment you checked yourself into that institute and your file hit the system, he saw your scans, read your readings and told us we simply had to retrieve you. But when so much time passed and you didn’t so much as make a sound …”
He shrugs, almost as if he’s apologizing for his doubt, and continues, “Vanik was adamant about you being a Speaker — and a powerful one, at that. But Landon tells me you’re not just a powerful Speaker. Do you know how rare Creators are, Jane?” Falon shakes his head, smiles a small smile. “You have no idea, do you?”
Thump. Thump. Thump. My heartbeat is loud in my ears, speeding up with every word that falls from his mouth. I want him to hurry up and tell me. And I want to run away before he can. I’m not sure which I want most, but since I’m frozen to the spot, the choice is taken from me.
“How much do you know about a medication called ‘Xanaphan’?”
I stare blankly at him, trying to calm my heart enough to not miss anything.
Falon cocks his head to the side. “Forgive me. Perhaps I should rephrase my question. Have you heard of a medication called ‘Xanaphan’? Judging by your lack of knowledge when it comes to Speakers, I’m presuming you haven’t.”
He’d be correct in such a presumption.
“Xanaphan was created by a team of Australian biochemists and pharmacologists who began testing on human volunteers around forty years ago. Fortunately — or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it — there weren’t a huge number of willing test subjects. It was an experimental drug at best, and since its target consumer group was women struggling with infertility, only a small number of those were desperate enough to accept the potential side effects of the medication.”
He looks deep into my eyes and continues, “Those complications ended up being more severe than anticipated, and while ninety percent of the women taking the drug succeeded in falling pregnant, almost all of those mothers ended up dying during labor. Around half the children survived, but the loss of life was catastrophic enough for the drug to be recalled from any further human trials.
“After a redesign of the medication, twenty-five or so years ago, it was cleared for human testing again. It was much more successful this time, even if it took longer for women to conceive — sometimes up to ten years after they were first injected with the drug. But this time very few of them suffered complications during childbirth. By all accounts, the medication had enabled them to fall pregnant and carry their children full-term, just like any other naturally occurring conception.