Page 98 of Sky Song
He agreed. “For now, let’s look at the other three.”
She quickly reviewed the information. “Delta, Zeta, and Epsilon files begin soon after Alpha and Beta stop. Gamma was still ongoing. Delta and Zeta use serum version three. Epsilon doesn’t say what serum. That one is a strange file - some randomnotes about observations, a couple of tests. Let me look at the close dates.” She frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just… there are no closing dates. It’s like nothing has been updated after a certain time.”
“When do the records stop?”
“About… three years ago. Are you sure your device copied everything?”
“I’m sure. Is there anything in the records to point at what happened?”
“Let me look.” She took a long time perusing the information, with Lyle holding still, patient. Her eyes felt gritty from discerning vast amounts of chemical and medical information, most of it making no sense. “Nothing specific. There are warnings about Delta’s lowered immunogenicity due to… an unidentified drug interaction. What’s that?”
“Side effects.”
“Hmm. Nothing about the file being closed, which we understand to mean the subject’s death.” She shuddered. “Zeta has a lot of information in it, lots of tests and observations. Serum three seems to be a success. There are scheduled measurements that are never described, more planned tests with no results. The records just stop.” She raised her head to look at Lyle. “You don’t suppose the experiments stopped three years ago?”
Lyle scoffed. “No. It’s the recordkeeping that has changed. We have to find out how. Delta, Zeta, and Epsilon may still be alive.”
She fervently hoped so. “I wonder what happened three years ago to make them change…” Another chill raked her body. “That’s when I started at the lab! Lyle, that’s when I started at the lab…” She scrambled to open the latest records from thefiles, and sure enough, the last notations dated back to right before she came to work there.
She replaced Igor, the man who had died a mysterious death, prompting Kim to go ballistic on Dr. Nura, and ushering in the hiring of another person, Nurse Yanet of the selectively loose tongue and clandestine visits to the “supply” room with her ever-present tablet.
Cricket put her head in her hands. “I can’t read that anymore. Please don’t make me. Not tonight.”
He came to his feet. His eyes were no longer flat - the aftereffects of the electric shock had worn off - and their usual brilliance was soothing. But the cuts and bruises on his face made him look rough, reminding Cricket that the Lyle she had come to adore was not the real one. She didn’t know the real one, and glimpses of his past life scared her.
He scooped her up with ease. “Rest now, get your sleep.”
She held herself a little stiff against his chest. “Do you think I can sleep now? With all those thoughts in my head.”
He smiled his lazy smile and slowly blinked at her as he deposited her on the bed. “I’ll sit with you until you do.”
He knelt next to her bed as she lay down, and touched her. He rubbed her back, sifted his fingers through her hair. All innocent, unassuming caresses, a tactile pleasure meant to comfort and lull.
She lay still under this gentle onslaught and thought of the files. She thought of Igor and Kim. And most of all, she thought of Lyle whose touch brought her peace no matter how she resisted, and she wanted to weep for his broken body, for his ruined life, and for the future the two of them would never have.
She was a few minutes late for her shift, and Terrance and Salty greeted her with different degrees of welcome.
“You make me worry every time you’re not here, Emma. I can’t help but think of Kim,” Terrance said with reproach, succeeding in making Cricket feel guilty.
Salty expressed a different opinion. “Look at her, made the team lead, and is now late every other day. Kim was never late. You have a secret boyfriend who keeps you up at night?”
“Nothing as interesting.” Although her tone was light, Cricket could feel her ears burn under the lab cap. If only Salty knew how close to the truth she’d come.
She looked at the supply room door. It was there alright, tightly closed and silent, keeping its secrets under the lock and key and a sheet of metal. The wall cabinet echoed the door’s metallic silence.
With nerves pulled taut like guitar strings, Cricket forced herself to get busy with work, to act natural. She kept her back to the supply room door, but her shoulders got stiffer and stiffer as the day wore on, until she thought her spine would crack in half from the stress.
Yanet arrived later in the day and occupied their computer system doing lab reports, which significantly decreased Terrance’s productivity. He spent more time circling around Yanet and ogling her hips perched on the stool than processing samples.
Multiple times Cricket covertly glanced at Yanet’s screen, trying to decide if it would be worthwhile to stealthily log in again and double check the research files. What would she uncover today, the Greek alphabet or the bunions?
The mere thought that Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon were out there somewhere, suffering from the experiments at this very moment, maybe already dead, wouldn’t leave her. She had to know what the rest of the files hid. The timing of the experiments was too coincidental, and it was driving her crazy.
When the tension in her back became unbearable, she ripped off her gloves and went on a break. She was hungry but thoughts of a snack made her nauseous. She drank some water, forcing it down her throat. She walked around the main lobby to distract herself. Nothing worked.
