Perfection (JL Spelbring) (3 page)

Leland dropped his hand away from the mouse and turned to stare at George. “I’ve already explained to you that yes, it is possible,” he said irritably. “I’m trying to locate anything she might’ve forgotten. I realize you’re anxious, but breathing down my neck is not helping.”

George’s brow furrowed as he looked at Leland with contempt. Leland, a child of The Center, but a genetic foul-up with wavy golden hair and pale powder-blue eyes, had the nerve to talk to him with disdain. If not for Leland’s somewhat above average intelligence, he would’ve been socialized into the general population, taking some insignificant job.

Leland was not like George, who had been one of the first purebreds, seventy years ago. Platinum hair, eyes the color of the sky on a clear day, pale flawless skin, handsome, the doctor had been the poster child of Hitler’s vision.

At the age of five, George had had the fortunate opportunity of meeting the aging visionary when the
Führer
had visited The Center. Hitler had explained to George and the other subjects the meaning of his visions. It had been the most exhilarating moment of the young doctor’s life, only surpassed when he’d discovered and learned to manipulate the genetic coding of perception. From there, his soldiers were born.

His mind wandered back to the inferior Leland, and anger burned through him. “Just find her,” he snarled.

Leland shrugged and spun around in the computer chair. His fingers clicked across the keys. “This process of scanning pictures one at a time is going to take awhile. You might as well sit down.” The younger man leaned his head toward the computer as people’s faces flipped across the monitor.

Frustrated, George glanced at the screen. The familiar face of a female who worked on the second floor flashed, quickly replaced with some other woman who worked in the London facility.

Throwing his hands in the air, he returned to his executive-style desk and began analyzing Ellyssa’s psychological profile, yet again, to compare her to her siblings. Her personality tests had all returned without any wavers within the boundaries. Her physical and emotional tests exceeded the scope of established parameters. She even surpassed her siblings in martial arts and weapons training.

Where did things go wrong?

“What have you found?”

Concentrating on Ellyssa’s tests and profiles, the doctor started at the unexpected voice. Detective Angela Petersen, head of The Center’s
Kripo
unit, stood at the front of his desk, peering at him with questioning eyes. A twig stuck out of her disheveled hair, and dried blood was smeared along her cheek. As if nothing was wrong, she smoothed her rumpled skirt and shirt before sitting in the guest chair directly across from him.

Angela was living proof that, after the initial tweaking of man, nature would’ve eventually weeded out undesirable traits. Besides being beautiful, with angular cheeks, bright eyes—although a little too small and the wrong color—and unlined skin, the detective was highly intelligent, physically toned, mentally stable, and proud of her abilities. Close to having the required qualities without modification but, unfortunately, still lacking.

“Ah, Detective. Your German is improving,” George responded in his visionary’s native tongue. “What happened to you?”

“Your precious daughter is what happened,” she snapped.

He straightened in his chair, his lids widened minutely. “She attacked you?”

“Yes. It seems she is not as docile to authority as you thought.”

After grabbing antiseptic from the top drawer, he walked around the desk and examined the gash on the detective’s head. It was a small laceration, but deep. He soaked a cotton ball with the yellowish liquid. “This may sting a little,” he said as he blotted the wound. “Tell me what happened.”

“As we thought, she was heading toward the station, but at the last minute she crossed the street and went into Hitler Park.”

“The park?”

“Yes, she said she was going on a walk.”

The doctor chuckled while he dabbed the ointment on Angela’s head.

“What?”

“She knew who you were.”

“I was careful to keep my mind clear.”

“An impossible task. But to be on the fair side, Ellyssa’s powers are astoundingly developed, even beyond my expectations.”

“Maybe I’d have been better prepared if I had known of her ability before she’d escaped,” she hissed, jerking away when he applied pressure to the wound. “What are we going to do about her?”

“Well, Detective,
you
are going to capture her and bring her back home.”

“She is more dangerous than originally anticipated.” She pulled away from the doctoring hand and stood facing him. “You, yourself, said she would come willingly. That she would pose no problems.
You
were wrong.”

“What do you propose?”

The detective looked at him coolly. “Termination.”

Apparently listening more attentively than George realized, Leland swiveled around in his chair and stood. “The children are not rats to dispose of when one bites you.”

Angela ignored the tech and addressed the doctor. “They are bred for scientific research, born from genetically modified eggs and sperm in test tubes. She has proven herself a threat and is thereby dangerous.”

“There has not been a termination for over thirty years, and that was only under extreme circumstances. Ellyssa is the first of her type. It would prove detrimental to my work if she were to be terminated.”

“Have you thought of what could happen with her being free in the population?”

“I assure you she will not hurt any citizens.”

“You don’t know where her capacity for violence stops. You failed to recognize her ability to attack me.”

“Self-preservation.” He shrugged. “She must have seen you as a threat.”

“Nonsense. I offered to escort her home.”

“That is what you said verbally. Maybe you had other plans. Things she saw as threatening?”

“No,” she answered, stiffly.

The doctor studied the young detective. Her chin jutted out slightly, and her hands rested on her hips. Although Angela’s attributes would supersede those of many living outside The Center’s walls, her imperfections, especially the emotions, were all too noticeable to him.

“It is too bad your genetic deficiencies have rendered the training The Center has to offer pointless. That is something I will need to rectify,” Dr. Hirch pondered, his eyes settling to a point above Angela’s head. After a moment, he focused back on the detective. “Petty emotions like pride would not interfere with your judgment.”

Angela flinched as if he had slapped her. “Pride?” she said, through clenched teeth. “This has nothing to do with pride.”

“She challenged your authority. You are not accustomed to that.”

“Because of your reassurance, I was not expecting the attack. No fault of my own.”

“Detective Petersen,” he said, “you are exceptionally skilled at your job, but you have to realize that Ellyssa is a special situation. Besides her brilliant skill, her intelligence surpasses even mine, and her prowess is beyond the Renegades your job usually entails. A challenge for you. I will release her profile to you. Study it.”

“You’re making a mistake,” she said.

George moved closer to Leland. “Regardless of your opinion, Ellyssa will be brought home safely. She is…needed,” he said, while staring at a recognizable face hovering on the monitor.

The hair was different. Instead of long and flowing, like colorless ribbon, it was shorter, feathered along the sides of her pale skin, and slightly offset to the side. Her eyes were off, murky sea-colored rather than pure azure. Peering closer, he noticed the alterations she’d made to the photo. She must have been in a hurry, because the lines didn’t quite match. Good enough to pass inspection by ordinary citizens, though.

Even with the short hair, he would recognize the face of his daughter anywhere. Large eyes, which seemed defiant, as if taunting him, framed with long, dark lashes, shelved over a straight nose and angular cheekbones, stared back at him. Next to the picture, written in black, read the name, Vada Owen.

“Besides, there she is.”

4

“Very nice, Ellyssa. Now, can you tell me what is on this card?”

As soon as Ellyssa closed her eyes, she reached into the head of the research assistant, Mrs. Tucker, plucking from it an image of the mountains with white, icy caps stretching across the limited borders of the rectangular card. She opened her lids and gazed at the assistant. Mrs. Tucker’s face looked excited, and expectation wavered within the depths of her imperfect blue eyes
.

“The Rocky Mountains,” she answered
.

Mrs. Tucker nodded, looking pleased, and Ellyssa smiled
.

Then, Ellyssa’s father, Dr. Hirch, stepped up and slapped her. The unexpected impact whipped her head to the side, and she brought her chubby hand up, covering the place where he had hit her. The coolness of her palm did nothing to stop the growing heat, and the taste of blood flooded her mouth. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, and hardened her face into expressionless stone
.

“Remember, Ellyssa, certain emotions only bring pain and, possibly, death. They cloud the judgment and will render you useless when you need your wits about you,” he said. His expression was passive, but anger flickered in his eyes
.

She nodded while he towered over her three-year-old body
.

“We are done for the day. Go to your room.”

She obeyed
.

Ellyssa heard people walking, their steps short and hurried, long before she opened her eyes. She heard snippets of conversations in her half-awake dreams; people with unknown faces flickered in and out of her mind, saying strange things like “dangerous female” and “security breach”.

It took a moment, but the meaning sank in and the haziness of disjointed images evaporated. Fully awake, Ellyssa jolted off the berth, her feet landing with a light thud.

She grabbed her bag and went to the door, pressing her ear against the thin paneling. Another person rushed down the corridor. Opening her mind, an image of her floated within a male’s thoughts. He was looking at a picture. The image was of poor quality, the colors blended together, but the words printed below gave an accurate description of her. She closed the link as the murmuring thoughts of all the passengers barged in and swept away the image she’d just held.

Her father had taken the next step—one that he must be infuriated about. He’d contacted outsiders to help detain her.

Uncertain of the time, she crossed the compartment and looked out the window. The sun was out of her range of sight but, judging from the brightness, she determined late afternoon. A rolling landscape and a forest of densely packed trees zipped by. So unlike the flatness of Central Illinois.

Missouri
.

Her eyes lingered on the lavish greenery before her—ash, oak, hickory, and pine. Intertwining branches reached toward the heavens. Directly next to the tracks were blackened rocks. She regarded the dangerous streaks of black skeptically. When she jumped, she’d have to make sure to clear the patch.

She calculated the possibilities and settled on a crouched roll at impact.

At the door again, she waited with her hand on the lever and listened for any other urgent activity. Not including the muffled musings of people in the adjoining compartments, the car remained quiet. She slid the door open and stepped into the hall. A worn red carpet spread the length of the car from one doorway to the next. Both ways remained empty.

She searched for the male who had been holding her picture. Through the windows of the adjoining cars, she saw him talking to another attendant. She moved to her right, and then froze at the sound of hydraulics moving, the fine hairs on her neck twitching.

Without turning around, Ellyssa let her barrier drop briefly and grazed the thoughts of an older male who was thinking of a pretty female…his daughter holding a baby. Air whooshing from her lungs, she turned and looked as an older man with thinning hair stepped into the car. He gave Ellyssa a quick grin before he entered his compartment.

Alone again, she continued toward the end of the car, where metal steps led down into the baggage compartment. She glanced over her shoulder. The attendant still stood there talking, oblivious to her being one car over. She closed her eyes and focused, weeding away the cacophony of thoughts and feelings from the other passengers, picking his brainwaves from all the ramblings—a near-impossible task.

Through the constant static, she saw her picture as the man showed another attendant with a nice face and curly hair. They were whispering in hushed tones. The man holding her picture was filling Curly-Hair in on the details. Police were to pick her up at the next stop, thirty minutes from now.

Apparently, they had not been warned about her psychic ability.

A musical voice danced through the cacophony of whispered thoughts and erased her hold on the male’s thoughts. A female was thinking about a male she’d met at a party. Violins and a piano played as they spun around on the floor. He held her tight in his arms, and the female remembered the thrill as if he held her now.

A strange sensation stirred in Ellyssa, one that made her stomach roll and flutter at the same time. She cut the connection off in mid-thought, just as the tinny ringing of footfalls on the metal steps echoed around her.

Ellyssa glanced at the steps. A blue cap, covering darkish-blond hair, followed by the rest of the woman, bobbed into sight from the lower deck.

The attendant’s smile stretched from ear to ear. When she saw Ellyssa, it amazingly stretched even further, exposing white teeth. Apparently not all of the attendants had been informed of the dangerous female on the train.

Stepping onto the platform, she said, “Is there something I can help you with?” Her tone held a happy, high note to it, mimicking the musical quality Ellyssa had heard in her thoughts.