Enigma Black (17 page)

“I had heard something about that.” I set my fork down and looked at Lars. “I’m sorry about your loss…all of your losses.” Everyone shook their heads collectively. “How, if I may ask, did he die? I didn’t think that could happen to people like him and Blake.”

“Science isn’t perfect,” Lars answered. “As much as we believe we’ve perfected something, there are always exceptions. We just haven’t found a way to keep people from dying…yet. In fact, we came pretty close to losing Blake too that night.”

I looked at Blake. For someone who’d been on the brink of death only a few days prior, he didn’t look half bad. “What are my odds of dying, too?” I asked.

 I noticed that no one at the table would look me in the eyes except Cameron, who saw it fit to offer an answer to my question. “Well, I guess it all depends on whether or not you survive today.”

Kara’s face turned an instant shade of crimson, more from anger than embarrassment this time. A loud snap sounded next to me. When I turned to find the source, I noticed that Blake’s fork was broken in half next to his plate.

“That was uncalled for, Cameron,” Inez spoke up.

“Exactly what is going to happen to me today?” I asked.

“She needs to know,” Edwin piped in.

Dr. Martin added, “I know she needs to know. I just figured that we were going to have Victor explain it to her like he did with the others.”

“And he will.” A voice boomed from the doorway, startling everyone but Blake.

“Good morning, Victor,” Cameron called cheerfully. The same greeting from everyone but Blake followed.

“Good morning, everyone,” Victor greeted us.

He looked surprisingly normal for a man of his power, with only a hint of menacing sprinkled in. Tall and broad in stature, he was extremely pale, almost deathly so. Despite it being summer, he was clad in a way-too-warm-looking turtle neck paired with dress slacks. He scoured the table until his eyes met mine, a smile spreading across his pointed face. It reminded me of the wide-eyed hungry look of a cat preparing to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. My heart started pounding, my stomach sinking as he made his way in my direction. Figuring that the only proper thing to do now was to stand, I did so, an act which seemed to please him. Cordially, he took my hand and bowed.

“Enchanté, mademoiselle.”

Oh, great, not only did he scare the shit out of me, he was a charmer as well. This was going to be interesting.

“I trust, Celaine, that everyone here has made you feel welcome?”

“Yes,” I said. “They’ve all been trying.” Kara gave me a sheepish smile.

“That’s good to hear. I apologize for the lackluster sleeping quarters but, as I’m sure Blake already pointed out to you, you won’t be using them much.” Victor made his way to his seat at the head of the table.

“He mentioned something about that,” I said, sitting back down. “I’m not going to be able to sleep much? I think my body will beg to differ.”

“I think not.” Victor loaded his plate up as if he hadn’t eaten for a month. “You’ll be amazed by what your body is going to be able to do.”

“With all due respect, I honestly don’t know why you picked me of all people. There’s nothing strong about me. I’m not fast, agile or even graceful for that matter.”

“A mere formality for now. Trust me, after today, you will think differently.”

With that, Blake excused himself, standing up to leave the table. His demeanor had changed substantially since Victor’s appearance.

“Really, Blake,” Victor interceded in his retreat. “You should eat more. You need to keep up your strength.”

“I’ll work on it,” he responded, clearly annoyed.

Victor shook his head, mumbling something inaudible. I must have still been stunned by the sheer amount of food on Victor’s plate as he caught me staring at it and chuckled. “Eat up,” he said to me, breaking my trance. “After you’re done eating, Celaine, please accompany me to Dr. Harris and Dr. Martin’s office, and I will brief you about the events of the day.”

Chapter Fourteen

The Transformation

The doctors’ lab was unlike anything I had ever seen before even in all my meanderings through the halls of Hope Memorial as a child. It was a mixture of a mad scientist’s lab with a dash of high tech trauma bay included for appearances. There were books scattered about one corner of the room as though it served as some sort of research center. Medical encyclopedias, some of which I recognized from my father’s den, along with computers and other monitoring devices, dotted the room, encircling what resembled an operation table of sorts. Tubes led to pumps, the likes of which I’d never seen before; cords led to monitors and other large, unfamiliar devices. Surgical tools were dispersed throughout the room, ready to report for duty at a moment’s notice.

Despite all of the obvious technological anomalies in this pseudo-hospital, one common link remained: the smell of sterility. In a strange way, this familiar smell set my mind a little more at ease, creating an odd sense of comfort. I searched the room some more. Alongside one of the walls stood a sink, wash basin and counters. But it was the peculiarity situated directly above the sink that immediately caught my eye. Examining it further, I deduced that it was a window to what was most likely a viewing room like the viewing rooms the interns and residents used at the hospital to view surgical procedures.
Great, if I die today, I’m going to have a captive audience
, I thought to myself.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” a voice from behind me enquired in a tone meaning he meant it to be more of a statement of fact than an actual question. I turned around and saw that Dr. Martin had entered the room.

“Yes,” I replied. “I spent a good share of my childhood following my father around in the hospital he practiced at and, I must say, I’m ashamed to admit I couldn’t tell you what most of this equipment does…or… really what it even is for that matter.”

“That’s because you’ve never come across some of this equipment. It’s not available in modern hospitals and won’t be for another ten to fifteen more years.”

“I’m going to be a guinea pig, then?”

“Nope. Blake was our guinea pig. We’ve thankfully worked out all of the kinks just in time for you.”

“Well, that’s very…comforting. So, tell me, will this surgery cause me to develop the same sparkling personality Mr. Cohen so exuberantly displays?”

“Afraid not. He came off the assembly line with that one. It wasn’t one of the after-market parts we installed.”

“What do you mean by ‘install’? I’m not going to wake up with a third eye or something…am I?”

Dr. Martin glanced up at me with a sly grin, returning to his notepad to scribble down more notes.

“Don’t let him worry you.” Dr. Harris entered the room with Victor following close at his heels.

“Marty here just needs to work on his bedside manner,” Dr. Harris chuckled, patting Dr. Martin on the back. “We won’t let anything too bad happen to you.”

“How about we start with what exactly is going to happen to me.” I felt a twinge of concern.

“Gentlemen,” Victor interceded. “If you will allow me, I will explain it to her.” The doctors nodded while Victor moved to face me, looking at me with an icy glare so piercing that it sent chills through my body. “The human body is an amazing creation as I’m sure you’re aware.” There was something about Victor that made me uneasy. His half-smile only exacerbated this uneasiness.

“You see, unlike the rest of the living organisms in this world, our kind can think and feel. We learn and we improvise. We develop meaningful relationships with each other that blossom into love. However, with all the exceptional natural abilities we possess, we are also fatally flawed with our sheer physical limitations. We’re weak…slow when compared to most animals, lacking a measurable amount of agility and strength. Physically, we are essentially at the bottom of the food chain when compared to our opposable-thumbed deficient friends.” He braced himself against the operating table as though the very act of standing and lecturing were too much for him. “Fortunately for us, though, there is a feature that unites us with the rest of the pack, whether they are a denizen of the land, sea or air. Have you ever heard of the fight or flight response, Celaine?”

“Sure. It’s where your body senses the presence of danger and prepares itself by releasing adrenaline through your system.”

“Good. The fight or flight response is probably one of the most primitive defense mechanisms that we humans possess. The hypothalamus sends chemical signals to the adrenal glands, activating the sympathetic system, causing the adrenal glands to release adrenaline and noradrenaline from the amino acids phenylalanine and tyrosine.” At this point in Victor’s lecture I wished I’d actually read one of George’s medical encyclopedias. “These hormones create a state of readiness that aid us, as humans, to confront challenges head-on, making us more agile and giving us the ability to exhibit astounding strength.”

I remembered the stainless steel fork Blake so effortlessly broke in half and shuddered.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the story that tends to go around of the mother who miraculously picked up a car that had fallen onto her child. Well, what if that kind of strength could be controlled…or harnessed? What if a person could be in a constant state of readiness with the capabilities of producing that kind of strength at the drop of a hat?” Victor stood up and proceeded to walk around the room.

“That very question was one that was posed here by the minds you see present in this very room; and has been a question of which we’ve made and continue to make numerous attempts at answering. Until Blake came along, our attempts almost always failed. We were starting to get discouraged, to say the least. You see, Celaine, there aren’t too many people whose bodies can handle the stress placed upon them by a constant river of adrenaline flowing through their veins. We simply had to learn more about adrenaline, including its effects on the human body, and counteract those effects the best we could.”

“When a person has adrenaline flowing through their system, their muscles contract more than they normally would when their body is in a state of calmness. In a state of tranquility, our blood flows easier throughout our muscles. Additional oxygen is, in turn, carried to them by this extra blood, allowing the muscles to function at elevated levels. Our skeletal muscles, however, are activated by electrical impulses from the nervous system. When stimulated, these muscles contract. It is the same contraction that occurs when one lifts an object or throws a punch at someone. However, in a state of calmness, we only use a very minute percentage of our muscles’ capabilities. It’s only when we’re confronted with the danger that precipitates the fight or flight response that we can transcend our perceived limitations and simply act. This fact is illustrated after a person is electrocuted, wherein they experience a sudden and violent contraction of the muscles, throwing them an impressive distance from the source of the electrocution. Many people assume it’s the blast that catapults them through the air when it’s their muscles’ response to the immediate danger that actually does this.”

“Okay,” I interrupted. “From what I’m gathering, I’m going to be electrocuted in some fashion to produce adrenaline?”

“Yes. In a sense.”

“Would you mind explaining to me how exactly it is I’m
not
going
to die from that?”

“It’s a crap shoot,” Dr. Martin chimed in.

“Yes,” Victor agreed. “That is a good description for it.”

Well, that’s just beautiful
, I thought to myself. Knots began to form within the depths of my stomach, making me wonder if the fight or flight response would allow me to get the hell out of here right now. After deciding that, no, it probably wouldn’t and determining that, after I was caught by Blake that I would most likely be snapped in half like some defenseless fork, I decided to stay put. Nonetheless, it irritated me to think that everything I’d given up would have been for nothing if I died here today. This would mean that I’d devastated the people I dearly loved just to fulfill a pipe dream.

“However,” Dr. Harris interjected, taking me away from my morbid thoughts, “we haven’t lost a single person since Blake. We’ve refined our technique and have thus far been able to control the side effects.”

“Side effects?” I asked. Obviously, I was in for more than I bargained for.

“An increased amount of adrenaline naturally raises your blood pressure, increasing your heart rate. Many of our failures sustained fatal heart arrhythmias when their bodies simply couldn’t handle the adrenaline rush any longer. However, with that being said, we have been successfully able to counteract the effects of it with a cocktail of daily medications including beta blockers, antidepressants, ADHD medications, antihypertensives and multivitamins. Plus, you will be asked to wear a heart monitor at all times so we can constantly monitor your heart functions to determine if you’re in danger of going into cardiac arrest.”

“You said I wouldn’t need to sleep anymore…is it because of the adrenaline rush?”

“It’s not that you won’t need sleep anymore. Your body, although much more resilient, won’t be invincible, and sleep will still be the only real way it can thoroughly repair and recharge itself. You will be given sedatives to take to calm you down enough to get to sleep when necessary. Blake usually only sleeps around three days a week and always seems well rested. Our bodies are all different. Only time can tell how yours will react.”

“What does this procedure entail?”

“We will be performing an operation wherein we will insert this into the base of your brain stem.” Dr. Harris held out a small metallic rod in his hand. My best estimation put it to be around an inch in length. “This transmitter emits enough electrical waves to keep your brain stimulated, producing adrenaline.”

“Again, how does this not limit my body in other ways or make my essential organs fail. I mean, this can’t possibly be good for a person’s body.” I looked at the transmitter, bewildered. The prospect of brain surgery rendered me extremely uncomfortable.