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“Class E. Level nine. Low control. Under intense observation. Answers to ‘Lilith.’ Ability’s name remains uncoined at this time, but our research concludes that the atypical in question is able to manifest atomic matter at will and transform it into, from what we can tell, essentially anything. This phenomenon is a result of intense repetition of the scientific process and, after years of failed attempts, has finally been successfully contained in a single organism.”
“Condokinetic.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Condokinesis is the official name for this individual’s ability. Do keep up, Doctor Un.”
“My apologies, ma’am.”
“It’s quite alright.” She leaned forward toward the glass and could barely tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her. It was remarkable. All resources, every casualty, and each month of checking in on the experiment had somehow been worth it. It was beautiful. A bioweapon engineered for immeasurable strength and impeccable damage. The General would be colored beyond impressed. “Any updates since December?”
“Yes. Three of our most valuable pyrokinetics were placed in the room.”
“And?”
“...None returned alive, ma’am.”
She said nothing at first.
“I really do apologize! I did everything I could-!”
She held up her index finger, and Doctor Un fell silent. “What for? The experiment has been an absolute success!”
“But those assets could have been far more useful-!”
“When I ask you to be silent, Doctor Un, I expect respect in your compliance.”
“I sincerely… Yes, Director.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
God, what was he to do?
Owen never wanted to hurt anyone in his quest to improve the lives of atypicals and non- alike. It was nothing short of cruel and unnecessary in his opinion. No, in fact.
Research came second, benefiting this already-broken branch of society was first. And, now that Joan and Samantha Barnes--Sam worked alongside him, he was reminded of this hour to hour, and it aided them in zeroing in on what priorities needed to be addressed and when.
He had released most of the Class Es, with exception to those who were placed in rehab subsequent to Ellie leaving her old office. And, thank god, they all seemed to be well on their way to recovery, even if that way likely meant months or even years.
But there was one asset--no,
person
--who threatened the idea of recovery at all, and unbeknownst to his new (and old) staff members, it kept him awake most nights.
Lilith had been created from stem cell reproduction and duplication for seventeen years, and although she was not the first attempt at genetically animating a human being, she was certainly the first successful one.
And what was this human being used for? A weapon. A weapon to take down armies from any and every nation.
Ellie hadn’t been the one who started the experiment (or the many trials before), but she seemed to have no trouble with carrying it out.
It made him sick. That the woman he thought had at least some strand of a moral code somewhere in the back of her brain didn’t. Now that he thought about it, she’d seemed to change her idea of what a moral defined as every other day back when she ran the AM. If he thought even harder, it may have even been that way
before
she was declared Director.
He pulled himself back to reality. He couldn’t reminisce about his old days of being her underling. It was unproductive, and, quite frankly, it made him sad.
He stared at the confines of his office. Much less bland than when it belonged to his old boss. Some potted plants here, family photos there, and just enough sunlight. (And he definitely knew better than to sit in Ellie’s old chair, so he bought a new one.) Who knew anyone could have changed a source of so much anxiety and intimidation for the better? Owen admitted to himself that he didn’t take enough credit for what was done around here.
The phone rang, startling him out of his trance. He picked up a little too quickly and held a hand to his heart in a similar way that he held the phone to his ear. “This is the Atypical Monitoring Foundation, Director Green speaking!”
“Owen. It still feels… strange to hear you call yourself Director.”
“Well, it is my title, Joan. I haven’t heard from you in a good week! How are things coming along with Rose?”
“Rose? Um, well… Good. Why Rose specifically? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought she was essentially done with the AM’s program.”
“I still check up on her from time to time.”
“...Why?” She sounded apprehensive.
He knew why that was, of course. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Her family has been under a lot of financial stress lately, and I know stress is a common trigger for spontaneous dreamwalking.”
“Oh! That’s… awfully considerate of you.” She paused. “Sorry, it’s just… It’s… difficult not to compulsively search for underlying motives every time I see this number on my phone.”
Owen nodded, as if she could see. “I know the feeling. I mentioned to you earlier that it would be no trouble at all to change it. It takes hardly any time at all-!”
“I know. Owen. It’s okay. It’s just something that I need to get used to. I am positive that there are many important figures who have that number memorized to the last digit. There’s no need for you to go out of your way simply to make me feel more comfortable.”
But I want to
, he wanted to say. Instead, he sighed, and replied, “Alright. But if it ever becomes too much for you, you know how to reach me.”
“Obviously.” He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Anyway, I called to ask if the AM had any resources on dimensional travel.”
His eyebrows raised. “One of your patients is a dimensional traveler?”
“Yes, but he isn’t quite registered in the system yet. This dimension doesn’t seem to be his own.”
“That’s… incredible.”
“Indeed. Anyway, what do you have?”
He felt a witty smile creep onto his face. “And here I thought that Ms. Barnes was going to hack it right from under my nose.”
“Don’t be coy, Owen. I have half the decency to at least ask nicely first.”
Was that… a smile he heard in her voice? No. He was imagining it. She hadn't been that way toward him for almost three years now. It was time to let go. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Anyway, I’ll send the requested forms as soon as I can. Just be sure to let me know when you’ve received them.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and… Joan?”
“Yes?”
His hands began to sweat. Damn it. “This is going to come across as exceptionally random, but… If you were given responsibility for something… private, but its contents were morally ambiguous in and of themselves, and if that secret was released into the world you would be in more trouble than you’ve ever been in your entire life, but you also can barely stand the idea of obeying the command to keep it quiet, what would you do?”
“...What are you asking me, Owen?”
“Can you come over tomorrow sometime? Not to my place! That’s not what I-!”
“I know what you mean.”
“...Somewhere around three o’clock, perhaps? It’s urgent, and, I’ve decided, imperative that you know. It’s something I’ve been wrestling with for a while-”
“Spare me the details over the phone. Three p.m.. You know where I’ll be.”
“Got it. Thank you… Doctor Bright.”
“Oh? It’s ‘Doctor Bright’ again?”
“For formality purposes.”
“Of course. Goodbye, Owen.”
“Bye-bye, now.”