The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(74)
“Damn it, man, are you talking about us?” Jake said. “The folks here in Fogg Lake?”
Slater looked at him. “I’m talking about all of us who have some genetic connection to the Bluestone Project. That includes my family, the Arganbrights, as well as Lucas Pine’s people. It’s true the Arganbrights and the Pines don’t hail from Fogg Lake. None of our relatives were here on the night of the Incident in the caves. But we do have a connection to Bluestone and we were affected by some of the experiments that were carried out in other Bluestone facilities.”
Euclid’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying there were accidents in some of the other labs?”
“Trust me when I tell you that we have plenty of evidence to indicate the other labs were engaged in equally dangerous research,” Slater said. “Some of the experiments were conducted on volunteers. Others resulted in serious accidents. In every case there was a cover-up. That means that today we don’t have the information we need to locate everyone who was affected. My point is that, one way or another, we are all dealing with the fallout from the Bluestone Project.”
“Go on,” Euclid said. He was paying close attention now.
“You know as well as I do that most people on the outside assume that anyone claiming to have a little talent is either an entertainer or a con artist,” Slater continued. “But there are those who do take the paranormal seriously, and they can be dangerous. Catalina, for example, had to deal with a stalker after the media announced that she had helped solve a murder in Seattle.”
A round of uneasy muttering followed that statement.
“The Foundation’s mission is to protect the descendants of Fogg Lake, as well as the others who were affected by the experiments carried out in the course of the Bluestone Project.” Slater paused a beat. “It is also our job to take care of the bad guys. As Uncle Victor likes to say, it takes a psychic to catch a psychic.”
A sturdily built woman with a short mop of gray hair leaped to her feet.
“The Foundation cleaners are nothing more than a bunch of private security cops who think they’ve got the right to arrest people like us and lock us up in that so-called asylum they operate,” she declared.
“All right, Tabitha, we know where you’re coming from,” Euclid said, his tone soothing. He turned to Slater. “Tabitha has a son who is being treated at some private clinic run by the Foundation.”
“Imprisoned, you mean,” Tabitha shouted. “Those damn cleaners came to his apartment in Portland one night and took him away.”
“In fairness to the Foundation,” Euclid said, “there’s a bit more to the story. Tabitha’s son got ahold of some bad street drugs. The shit did things to his head and had a real destabilizing effect on his aura. He became a danger to himself and, uh, probably others as well.”
“I understand,” Slater said. He looked at Tabitha. “Sounds like your son is at Halcyon Manor. You are not the only mother dealing with the damage that is done every day by drugs in this country. But I have to ask you if you would rather have had your son end up in the prison population, where he wouldn’t have gotten any medical treatment? Or maybe in a rehab center, where the so-called experts would have concluded that he really was crazy because he claimed to see auras?”
Tabitha sniffed and started to cry quietly. She blotted her eyes with the hem of her shirt and sank back into her seat. The people sitting next to her patted her on the shoulder.
Euclid nodded at Slater. “Go on, Arganbright.”
“Just a couple more points I’d like to make,” Slater said. “One is that, although we have every right to be concerned with how the rest of the population would deal with us if they realized what happened to us because of the Bluestone Project, we also have a responsibility to protect outsiders from the bad guys in our community.”
“Yeah, we’ve all heard that argument,” Euclid announced. “Regular law enforcement isn’t well equipped to handle bad dudes who have a lot of talent. If we don’t police ourselves, who will? Blah, blah, blah. Rancourt used that excuse whenever he wanted to get rid of someone who was standing in his way.”
“My uncles are aware of that,” Slater said. “They have put some safeguards in place to prevent abuse of the system. There’s something else I want you to consider. There’s a fortune in hot artifacts in the Fogg Lake lab. We all know that now that it’s been found, there’s no putting the toothpaste back in the tube. Too many people are aware of the discovery. The rumors will soon start to circulate throughout the hot artifacts market. You can barricade the road into Fogg Lake, but you won’t be able to stop the raiders. Once they get wind of this lab, your town is going to be crawling with a lot of ruthless people, some of whom will be willing to kill to get their hands on just a single valuable artifact.”
Euclid gripped his suspenders and rocked on his heels. “You’re going to tell us that we’d be better off if the Foundation folks set up an on-site operation here in town than we would be if those damn raider crews came around looking for the lab.”
“I believe so,” Slater said. “But this is your community. You will have to make that decision. I will give you my word that the Foundation authorities will make every effort to keep the work as low profile as possible. I would suggest you make the decision quickly, though. Fogg Lake is good at keeping its secrets, but no community can keep this kind of secret for long.”