“You’ve been through a severely traumatic experience that—”
“Not the first time.”
“You mean the death of your father. In your debriefing you mentioned a rather graphic revisiting of the ordeal inside the Aberration. Let’s talk about that.”
Nathan’s face heated. “Why? Why is any of this important? You know what’s going on. What’s out there. The beacon hasn’t stopped. It’s still blazing, turning the entire sky purple all around the globe. There’s no telling what damage it’s doing to the atmosphere or marine life. How much damage it will do to us. The entire world is on edge. Every channel fixated on the same images. The internet crashing several times already because everyone with access is logged on 24/7, fixated by it. The anomaly. The Desolation, they’re calling it. Can you think of anything more ominous? And you want to know what makes me tick. Don’t you have something better to do?”
Dr. Crestor looked uncomfortable for the first time, staring at his hands as if they held the answers. “I suppose it’s force of habit, Nathan. Rather than fold up and surrender, or lose myself in a fog of helpless panic, I focus on what I can control. What I can do. I concentrate on my work. What are we without purpose, after all?”
“Nothing.” Nathan said.
“What’s your purpose, Nathan? You’ve survived an experience I can’t even imagine. What is it that keeps you going?”
“Whatever Blackwell is hiding.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Blackwell. He took this case from the Tantalus. Elena told me about it. Archives of Dr. Stein’s work. His findings. All the relevant information on the Aberration. He has samples, too. Samples of genetic experiments, advancements created from direct contact with the aberrant energy source code. It’s the future, you understand. He’s now in command of cutting edge technology, along with a better understanding of aberrant energy than anyone on the planet.”
“Well, that has to be a good thing, right? After all, that data could have been lost in the blast.”
Nathan paused, wondering if Crestor was really that stupid, or simply baiting him. “Blackwell left Elena and me to die because it served his personal interest. That’s the bottom line for him. That’s all that matters. If you think he’ll use that data for the benefit of humanity, you need your license revoked. He’s hiding something. I have to know what it is.”
He glanced at the computer, where he had been working nearly nonstop. Networking, forming a coalition from the ground up. He wasn’t waiting until they got to the mainland. He had to be a step ahead of Blackwell. A step ahead of everyone.
“You can go now, Dr. Crestor. We’re finished, and I have work to do.”
“You don’t appear comfortable.” Dr. Crestor spoke quietly, peering over his thin-framed spectacles.
Elena shrugged, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Everyone looks at me like a specimen now. I see it in their faces, the few that manage to actually meet my gaze. We’re like zoo exhibitions in here. They look at us like freaks.”
Crestor nodded. “Fear is always the first reaction when faced by the unknown. We don’t know what the ultimate effects of this incident will be. The only thing we know so far is three people in close proximity have eyes that changed color. It will take some getting used to, but I’m sure people will accept the oddity. We’ve accepted far more drastic physical… alterations.”
Elena nearly laughed at the purposeful hesitation in Crestor’s statement. Alterations. Her eyes were actually beautiful, purple irises glimmering like amethyst jewels. But they weren’t the color she was born with. Her dark brown eyes were gone, leaving a stranger gazing back at her from the mirror. Both Nathan and Blackwell experienced the same phenomenon. Neither wanted to talk much about it.
“I don’t care about being accepted. I care about getting out of this cell.”
“It’s a simple precaution, Elena. Tell me, what will you do first when you get back home?”
“You mean if the doctors actually release me? See my dad, I guess.”
“Your father. You’ve had… distance for a while now.”
She hung her head, seeing her father’s face the last time she saw him. The pain when she told him she was joining the Army. The look of betrayal, as if by enlisting she betrayed her mother’s memory. He had just started studying conspiracy theories at that point, not yet fully dedicated to meeting with known terrorists. She wondered if he even knew where she was.
“It’s been a while. I just want to see if we can reconnect.” She looked up, saw Crestor’s empathetic gaze. “I mean, everything has changed. This could be the countdown. We might not have much time left. It’s important to have someone you care about in your life, no matter what their imperfections are.”
“Speaking of people you care about… you and Nathan seem to have drawn close.”
She gave Crestor a suspicious glance. Nathan constantly warned of cameras in their chambers, recording their every move. It made it nearly impossible for him to relax, putting a strain on their time together. The decontamination chambers had adjoining doors allowing them to visit with one another, and she and Nathan had spent a lot of time together. She felt he wanted to tell her more, say the things that shimmered behind his eyes when he looked at her. But he always held back, whispering of prying eyes and listening ears.
It was exasperating.
“We’ve been through a lot. I guess it’s only natural that we spend time together.”
“Do you see a future with him?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“It’s just a question. You can either answer it or not. Nothing intrusive.”
“Oh.” Picking at her nails, she considered. Was there a future for them? She knew he cared about her. Knew she cared about him. She had lain in his arms the previous night, her face against his chest, her arms draped across his shoulders. She had been lulled to sleep by the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling temporarily content for the first time in a great while. But the strange part was feeling him relax; his muscles ease as if he had never felt a gentle touch before. It was nearly heartbreaking.
“We’ve talked. It’s hard to plan your life when everything is up in the air. I mean, who’s to say what’s going to happen? How do you plan around this?
“You have doubts.”
“Of course I do. Nathan’s not easy to deal with.”
“Why is that?”
“Because… he’s afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of everything. His past, the Aberration, everything we went through.” She paused, not sure whether or not she had said too much. But talking about it felt good, getting it off of her chest.
“But most of all, he’s afraid of himself. Of what’s inside of him.”
“What is that? What’s inside of him, I mean?”
“Rage.” She stared at the glassy surface separating Dr. Crestor from her chamber, focusing on her murky reflection. Purple eyes stared back at her. “Darkness.”
Dr. Crestor’s gaze sharpened. “Are you talking about Nathan right now? Or yourself?”
She dropped her gaze. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t suppose this is what you’re used to.” Dr. Crestor spoke quietly, peering over his thin-framed spectacles.
“I’ve had enough of sterile, white rooms, actually.” Blackwell understood the necessity of decontamination, however frustrating it was. He was locked in, nowhere to go when he woke up in a cold sweat, gasping from his latest nightmare. Sid Damon wrapping tentacles around his neck. Or Charlie Foxtrot talking to him with half her face missing, blood pouring from the gaping wound. Or a number of nameless monstrosities feeding on his flesh while he screamed and screamed.