Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods (23 page)

“In where? In the computer?”

“No, in the minds of the patients. It’s not about the computer anymore. Something is going on. We don't understand the implications.” He paused.

“
Implications...?”

“Of Vrin. It’s gone far beyond the original project specifications. There are elements in the texts which are completely baffling.” His face went smooth and his smile reappeared. “So are you almost finished?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, matching his mood.

“Then let’s give you a tour of the lab.”

As I got up, I ventured another glance at the doors. A different man was standing at the entrance. He was dressed in a dark blue suit. His face was stern. “Who’s that?” I asked innocently.

“That’s Mr. Philips. He is,” the doctor hesitated, “ah-- responsible for security in the building.”

We walked over and deposited our trays. The man watched quietly as we passed. “Hello,” I said, trying to convey a relaxed friendly bearing over my nervous interior.

We continued on into the hall and down toward the lab. “There is much more to tell,” the doctor said.

I caught his double meaning.

Perhaps I should have stayed in the coma
I thought. Instead of finding out about my family, here I was, stuck in some weird cloak and dagger game. I wanted to whisper more questions, but thought it prudent to wait for the doctor to resume the conversation. The doors to the lab opened and the warm light of the monitors touched my face. A few people in white lab coats were busy working, and I received a couple of curious glances, but nothing more.

“Come over here to my office,” said Dr. Solomon. We stepped in and he closed the glass door. With his back to the door, he put his finger to his lips. I remained silent as he reached into his desk drawer. I heard a beep and after a few seconds, he looked up. “It’s okay. We can talk for a little, but they'll be suspicious if we take too long. Have a seat, and keep your expressions neutral.”

“Okay,” I said, faking a smile, and looking out the glass wall of the office.

“I’m about to say something distressing. Remain calm please,” he said with a straight empty face. “Your life is in danger, but I am going to help you. It is important that you trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?” I found it difficult to remain expressionless.

“No.” He leaned forward and slid a small pill in my direction. “Place this capsule in your mouth without drawing suspicion, but do
not
chew.”

I looked out the large glass. No one was looking, so I turned slightly and inserted the capsule into the rear of my mouth.

“It is the antidote to a poison which will be administered to you. Even though the pill will work, you will feel a paralysis, and will be unable to move for a time. This is important to the illusion that you're dead.”

The illusion that I’m dead?
I did
not
like the sound of that one bit! He was going to poison me?
My God!
Had the world gone mad while I was sleeping?

“Okay.” He smiled. “Let’s go put on a show. You all right?”

“I’m scared stiff,” I said, barely keeping my composure.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way. And listen. There is one thing I want you to do when you get out of here. A package will be provided for you. In it will be a green packet. Mail it to the address on the envelope.”

“If this works,” I said sarcastically.

He stood and opened the door. “It has to.”

We stepped out onto the floor, and he guided me back to my bed. “Sit down, Thomas. There you go.” He smiled as I did as he requested. “Now, we are going to do a few tests to make sure you are in full capacity, then I’ll give you that tour I’ve been promising.”

“Cool,” I said, trying desperately to sound excited.

He directed me to lie back down. The bed was soft beneath me. It was hard when I first came to, but now it was soft and squishy. The doctor prepped a few things, then performed a series of tests, all the while glancing at the door. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a green light next to the door came on. The doctor looked at me nervously. “That’s almost it, now let me see your arm.” He produced a needle and flicked it with his finger. “This will only hurt for a second.”

I flinched as the needle sank into my arm, and within seconds the room began to spin. My joints ached and my jaw began to tighten involuntarily. I felt the pill crush between my back teeth. Bitterness filled my mouth. It was a good thing the pill was between my teeth, there wouldn’t have been a second chance.

I must have lost consciousness, because instantly two figures were standing over me. I squinted and tried to focus on them. One was the man I'd seen in the cafeteria, and the other-- was my mother! Tears welled up in my eyes. She looked concerned, but I could say nothing to console her. I felt her hand take mine. Slowly I tracked her with my eyes. She had aged so much. I tried to speak but my voice was caught in my throat. “Mmmm,” was all I could get out.

“Thomas?” she said, her chest heaving with emotion. “Are you okay?”

I heard the doctor’s voice. “This is the most coherent he’s been, and I’m afraid his condition is deteriorating. We’re not sure what brought him out, but his mind has been through too much,” he said gently. “I’m sorry Mrs. Tardin-- but we do not believe he will make it.”

With great effort, I reached out and touched her hand. Her skin felt like rubber in my grasp. She began to cry as her body pressed down against mine. “
No!”
she said, taking me into her arms. “He
has
to make it. You’ve come so far, Thomas!” she sobbed. “You can do it!”

Again I tried to speak. “Maaaaam.”

“That’s it, Thomas! I’m here with you! You can do this!” But her words were useless. Off in the distance, I heard the heart monitor go flat line. My mother shook me tightly in her grasp. “No!
NO!
He can’t die! He was
here!
He was
alive!
He can’t DIE!”

The pain, and the frantic screams of my mother, were left far behind, as I drifted away into darkness.

HOME

001001011001110

There was a bump, and muffled voices. It was dark, and something was covering me. I was picked up, lowered to the ground, then someone unzipped the thing covering my face. I squinted at the brightness of the sun floating in the sky overhead.

“Hey there,” said a young male voice.

The plastic covering fell away and I realized, to my disgust, that I was lying in a body bag. I struggled to get the hideous thing off. A strong pair of arms helped me with the task. “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re with friends.” I squinted at the handsome face hovering before me.

“
Hurry up!
Get him in the car!” said a female voice. I turned my head to see a black sedan parked near us.

“I guess we’re going to have to wait for introductions,” he said. His strong hands gripped me under the arms and lifted me to my feet.

A large gray pickup started up and pulled away.

“Who was that?” I blinked, rubbing my eyes against the light.

“
That
was your ticket to freedom,” he said with a gleaming smile. “Quick, let’s get you into the car, we don’t want you being seen.” He helped me into the back seat and peeked in after me. “You want this?” He held out a cane.

“I'm all set for the moment.”

He put the cane in the front, stuffed the body bag under the seat, and he got in. “Let’s go, sis!” The tires squealed, and we took off down the road.

An uncomfortable quiet filled the interior of the car as I thought about the events that had just transpired. I was still alive, but now what? The woman driving kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror. The young man looked back at me with a broad smile. Over the hum of the engine, I heard the woman speak in a low voice. “This is crazy.”

The young man gave her a look, like a cat who had just caught a mouse.

“It’s really him,” she whispered.

He gave a happy nod and again turned to look at me-- and this time, as he did so, I found myself staring at his face. I was sure I had never met him before-- but he looked,
so
familiar. He leaned in close to the woman and whispered something in her ear. There was
something
about him, the shape of his cheek, the slant of his mouth... He reminded me of... He looked like... He stole another glance at me. Then it hit me like a hammer. He looked like
me!
Emotion welled up inside my chest. Was this my unborn son?

He turned to the front, and then back again with that big handsome smile fixed on his muscular features. He was a strapping young man, strong, and apparently
very
full of life.

I looked over at the lovely woman driving and immediately recognized her. How could I
not
have recognized her? Her curly blond hair moving in the wind, her soft pale skin fairly glowing. The delicate red lips, the high cheekbones. And those eyes! She certainly had changed, but it was her. I was sure of it. My little girl! I could barely keep my composure.

“I’m Samuel!” said the man, interrupting my thoughts. He offered his hand to me. I took it firmly. It was
amazing
to look at him. He looked so
much
like me. Except for his hair, which was blonde, like his mother’s. “You recognize me don’t you! I can see it in your eyes!”

“Yes. It took me a moment. But I recognize you.” I couldn’t pull my eyes from his face. There was so much I wanted to say, so many questions I needed to know the answers to.

“I have to tell you, this is crazy weird for Bec and me. It must be twice as weird for you.”

I pushed my emotion back and pressed my lips together. “I’m not going to lie, seeing you both grown up is--
difficult
, to put it mildly.”

“You’ve been asleep my whole life,” said Sam. “And now you’re
here,
just like that.” He shook his head. “It’s gonna to take some getting use to.” He snapped his face back toward me. “But I’m glad!”

Sam twisted in his seat. “Bec and I got this note a week ago.” He held out a crumpled piece of paper. “So we dropped what we were doing and headed here.” He handed me the note and I opened it. It read, “He is waking. Go to him.”

I folded it and handed it back. “Who was it from?”

Samuel shrugged. “We don’t know. I thought it was from Solomon or one of his people, but after the phone call I got this morning, I’m thinking it had to be someone else.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they didn’t know you were awake ‘til this morning.”

I remembered back to how startled the men had been when I woke up. “I think you’re right,” I said. “They were definitely surprised by my waking.”

My mother’s desperate face flashed in my mind. They made her
believe
I was dead.
Why?
Wait-- maybe she didn’t think I was dead. Maybe she was in on it to make it more believable. “Does your Gram know you came to get me?”

“They told her I came out of the coma, but that I wasn’t going to make it.” I looked out the window at the blur of the passing trees. “She thinks I died in her arms this morning.”

Sam and Rebecca were speechless.

I continued looking out the window, and came to a decision. “We have to assume that Solomon wanted her to believe that I’m dead, in order to protect her. Because no doubt, she will be questioned.” I looked at Samuel. “So we cannot tell her otherwise. It might put her life in danger.” The thought of her grieving over me made my chest constrict. She had waited so
long
, hoping that I would come out of the coma.

Sam’s face became stern. “We’ll do whatever you think is best.”

His willingness to trust a father he had never known moved my spirit. I was sure I would like the man he had become.

As the car cruised past open fields of grain, I attempted to piece together what I knew. It was hard to tell who knew what, since I didn’t know all the players. And what I did know didn’t make much sense. Solomon and his team found out I was awake this morning. They contacted Sam, but he and Rebecca had already known for a week. The people who wanted me dead couldn’t have known. Could they? So-- who sent the notes to Sam and Rebecca? Who could possibly have known that I was going to come out of the coma? And
how?

“No,” said Rebecca. “We didn’t tell her. We didn’t want her to know, you know, in case it was some kind of prank.” She shook her head. “She’s been through enough...” Her words trailed off, as if she wanted to say more, but decided against it.

What
had
she been through? Was Rebecca referring to the years I’d spent in a coma taking its toll on her?
That
was unlikely. Certainly it wouldn’t have taken her twenty-one
years
to come to grips with the situation. Again my mind shifted gears, and another unexpected question emerged. This one not so easily vocalized. “Is she... Did your mother ever…”

That must have been what Rebecca had eluded to. And though my heart went out to Annie, I could barely conceal my own selfish relief. She was single! There was a chance I might win her back! Certainly the years were unrecoverable, but if I could have Annie and my kids... I sucked in a deep breath, and leaned back on the seat, soaking up the peace brought by this newfound hope.