Replication (18 page)

“With drugs?”

“With persuasion. J:3:3 knows better than to disobey. He has been told to forget what he saw outside of the Farm, including you.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t force people to forget.”

Dr. Kane chuckled, a darker version of JD’s cocky laugh. “I can be very persuasive. J:3:3 is due to expire on the twenty-eighth. He would like to spend much of that time with his close acquaintances, isn’t that right, Dr. Goyer?”

“Yes.”

Abby turned to glare at her dad and caught a tiny wink. Hope burned in her chest like a sip of scalding cocoa. She pulled off her gloves and tucked them in her jacket pocket, then turned back to Marty and squeezed his limp hand again.

“Marty, it’s Abby,” she whispered. “Look at me, Marty. You don’t have to expire. We can still get free. Have faith—God will help us.”

Marty continued to stare at his feet, but his fingers trembled and a tear welled in the corner of his eye. He
was
still in there, pretending not to be, for some reason. Was this Dr. Kane’s
persuasion
in effect? Had he threatened Marty in some way to be submissive?

Abby rounded on Dr. Kane. “Where is Baby? I want to see him.”

“I’m not sure who you mean.”

“You know exactly who I mean. Marty’s friend, Baby. Show him to me. Now.”

“Your daughter is tenacious, Dr. Goyer.”

“What harm could come from Abby seeing J:4:4 at this point?” Dad asked. “My daughter is extremely intelligent, and J:4:4 is a fascinating subject. I say what I said before. Abby would be an asset to your work here.”

Abby spun back to her dad and caught his stiff grin. He wanted her to play along.

Dr. Kane heaved a sigh. “Dr. Goyer, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten what I’ve told you. If I allow the Jasons to see a female, I cannot guarantee her safety.”

Abby tensed at his vague reference to Dr. Markley’s death.

“J:4:4 is in Dr. Elliot’s lab,” Dad said. “No one will see her but him, and he’s restrained.”

Marty, still feigning a comatose form, squeezed Abby’s hand.

She fought back tears and squeezed back. “Take me there. I want to see him.”

Reluctantly, she released Marty’s hand and stepped toward the door.

“Fine, fine. But first, Dr. Elliot?” Dr. Kane snapped his fingers.

Within seconds Rolo forced Abby into a chair by the door while Johnson unzipped Abby’s bomber jacket and yanked it off, jerking her sore shoulder in the process. Abby gritted her teeth. As soon as he tossed her coat on the floor, Johnson grabbed her forearm and pushed her left sleeve up over her elbow.

Dr. Elliot tied a rubber strap around Abby’s left upper arm, pinching her skin in his haste. She fought but could hardly budge against the strength of the two men now holding her down. She glanced at her dad. “Daddy?”

Dad’s wrinkled forehead gave away his worry. “Is this really necessary?”

“Only insurance.” Dr. Kane’s smile had an eerie resemblance to JD’s when he decided to get his way. “You’re the best of the best, Dr. Goyer, without a doubt. And while I do believe your daughter is as brilliant as you claim, word at the high school already pegs her as a crusader. I’m sure you can’t blame me for taking a small safeguard. I would hate to come into work tomorrow and find I no longer have a lab.”

“I’m not a
terrorist
.” Abby winced and shut her eyes as Dr. Elliot plunged a needle into her arm. She cracked one eye to get a peek. He wasn’t injecting her, but drawing blood. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve no intention of cloning females, Miss Goyer. They’re weak—physically and emotionally. They can be taken advantage of, and I want order on my farm. Women arouse disorder. But …” He reached his index finger toward her hair and hooked a curl, drawing it back so that it coiled around his finger, then bounced free. “If you attempt to thwart me in any way, I will not hesitate to experiment with your DNA. Many scientists would be interested in testing female subjects. I’m sure they’d pay top dollar for your clones.”

A
BBY SHUDDERED AND GLANCED AT
M
ARTY.

Please, God. Help us. Make this right
.

Dr. Elliot withdrew the needle and taped a cotton swab over the bead of blood forming on Abby’s inner elbow. He left the room, carrying her blood. The potential for a host of Abbys.

Panic temporarily hit Abby, but she didn’t want Dr. Kane to see that. She wanted to say something that might scare him as much as his actions were scaring her. “You may not like women, Dr. Kane,” she said, as calmly as she could, “but you clearly haven’t thought things through. Right now, neither gender is dominant. Men and women need each other. God designed it that way.” She
paused, doubting God would ever allow her next words to happen, yet said, “But you’re changing all that. Since it’s possible for babies to be cloned from women without the need of a male, men become insignificant to reproduction and expendable. In a hundred years, thanks to
your
research, women might just take over the world.”

Dr. Kane stared at Abby with a cold expression. “Another reason why women will never work in this lab.” He set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Your father ensures me you are brilliant, Miss Goyer, but have no delusions. You will never see enough of my research to do any harm—no woman will. Your involvement will be extremely limited. Your father has bargained for your life; if you can be of use, so much the better. But should you become a liability”—his dark eyebrows rose—”you
could
be a surrogate.”

Dad gasped. “Now, hold on a minute. That was never part of our agreement.”

Dr. Kane released Abby and pulled open the door. “Now …” He paused to look back at her. “You had asked to see J:4:4, is that right?”

Abby nodded, assuming J:4:4 was Baby. The guards hovered near her as she got up and followed after Dr. Kane. He entered the lab next door to her dad’s and flipped on the lights. The lab was set up identically, including the presence of a boy strapped to the table. He flinched when the halogen bulbs flickered to life. His eyes squeezed shut and his head thrashed from one side to the other while he whimpered and squirmed. Martyr had said Baby was small, but she hadn’t been prepared for the reality before her. He was a dwarfed teenager. His white T-shirt bunched around his waif-like torso and skeletal arms. His head seemed abnormally large, although it was probably the only thing about him that was the right size for his age. Purple and green bruises covered his face, neck, and arms.

Abby broke free from the guards and stepped closer. “What happened to him?”

“Some of the older boys,” Dr. Kane said. “Without J:3:3’s protection, J:4:4 was an easy target. They attacked him the first day J:3:3 was gone.” He walked over to the table and stroked Baby’s
forehead. “J:4:4 has a form of hypochondroplasia. His body has not grown in comparison to his head. He’s somewhat intelligent—likely mute of his own volition. Only J:3:3 seems to understand him. Those two have developed their own communication, a form of sign language. Fascinating, really.”

Baby opened his eyes and Abby’s heart broke. They were the same eyes as JD and Dr. Kane’s, but with a warmth like Marty’s. “Based on his name and the way Marty talked, I was expecting a child.”

“The guards give out pet names as it’s easier for them to keep track that way. J:4:4 sucks his thumb and doesn’t talk, earning the nickname Baby. J:3:3 rescues him from the other’s assaults, rescues anyone unfortunate enough to be targeted by the bigger boys, earning himself the nickname Martyr.”

“Why strap them to these tables if they’re here of their own free will?”

“The bindings are for the subjects’ own safety. J:4:4 is here as leverage.”

Abby sucked an angry breath through her nose. “To get Marty to behave.”

“You see how well it works. J:3:3 obeys because I control his environment.”

Abby scoffed. “It’s not obedience to you that causes him to submit. You’re not bending his will to yours if he makes his choice to protect Baby. He sacrifices himself for a friend, proving he loves another more than himself. Proving he’s no photocopy of you. Proving you’re not in control. You, Dr. Kane, are not God.”

With Dr. Kane gone, Martyr snapped out of his lethargy and looked to Dr. Goyer.

“We have very little time,” Dr. Goyer said as he helped Martyr sit. “Don’t forget to tape off the sprinkler heads before starting the fire. And the servers are—”

“Under the table,” Martyr said. “I remember.”

“We’ve got to make this work. You’ll have to really hit me hard.”

Martyr did not want to strike Dr. Goyer, but he understood how it would look if he did not. Dr. Goyer stepped back and Martyr jumped down from the table. The tile floor felt cool under his bare feet. He missed wearing socks.

Dr. Goyer withdrew two keycards from his pocket, held them up, and set them on his desk. “The briefcase might be your best bet.” Dr. Goyer pointed to the narrow black box on the floor by his desk. “A good swing to my temple should do the trick.”

Martyr picked up the
briefcase
and paused.

“It’s now or never, Martyr. Give it to me good. Pretend I’m Dr. Kane. Or Rolo or Johnson. Pretend I’m Dr. Elliot.”

Martyr sucked in a sharp breath, winced, and swung the briefcase at Dr. Goyer’s head with all his strength, thinking of Baby in Dr. Elliot’s office and how Dr. Elliot had promised to hurt Baby when Martyr was gone. Dr. Goyer fell back against his shelf, knocking test tubes and flasks over. Some crashed to the floor.

Martyr dropped the briefcase and stared at the drop of blood growing on Dr. Goyer’s temple. He needed to go before help came. He hoped Dr. Goyer was all right. He snatched the keycards, wedged them under the waistband of his sweatpants, and stepped out into the hall.

The distant sound of breaking glass made Abby jump. Dr. Kane, in contrast, sped past her into the hall, followed by the guards. Abby stared after them a moment, then unhooked Baby’s restraints. She helped him sit, but his lethargic body wasn’t cooperating.

“Baby, you’ve got to get up. Martyr has come back for you,” she said, “and if we don’t move now, he may have come back for nothing.”

Baby’s eyes locked with hers. He banged his chest with his fist then pointed to his cheek.

“Find him!” Dr. Kane’s voice boomed from the hallway.

Abby peeked out the door and saw the guards running down
the hall away from Abby, Dr. Kane and Dr. Elliot at their heels. Had her dad freed Marty? Were they escaping without her?

She took Baby’s hand and darted across the hall, through the reception area, and to the elevator. She pushed the up arrow, but when the doors opened she realized she couldn’t operate the elevator from the inside without a keycard. Footsteps neared, so Abby dragged Baby out of the elevator and down the opposite hallway. Halfway down the corridor, a bald Jason poked his head out from a door, looking away from them.

Like an excited chimpanzee, Baby grunted in a language of his own. The Jason turned to face them.
Marty!
His face lit up in a smile, his previous comatose behavior completely gone as he waved them forward. Baby broke into a sprint, almost dragging Abby along. The little guy was surprisingly strong.

Marty crowded them into a dark lab room, then locked the door and pressed his ear to the white surface.

Baby continued to grunt and whimper. After a glance at the door, Marty walked to the middle of the room and put his arms around Baby, shushing and rubbing the smaller boy’s back. Baby put his thumb into his mouth and went silent, tucking his head into the crook of Marty’s neck.
How cute is that?

Marty looked over Baby’s head at Abby. “Thank you for freeing him, Abby Goyer.”

Abby smiled.

“We must hurry to the elevator.” Martyr pulled two keycards from his waistband. “I would give you one in case we’re separated, but you need two to operate the elevators.”

“What about my dad?”

Martyr’s eyes shifted away. “He should be safe as long as he’s not seen helping us.”

“
Should
be?”

“He must look frustrated with our escape, like he’s on Dr. Kane’s side. Don’t believe anything he says when Dr. Kane is in the room. He’s playing a part, like the people on
TV
.”

Abby pressed her lips together to avoid laughing.

Marty put his ear to the door again and then twisted the
doorknob. Abby followed Marty and Baby back toward the elevator end of the building. They’d only walked a few yards when Marty froze, forcing Abby to bump into his back. Johnson had rounded the corner and was blocking the way.

“Found ‘em,” the guard yelled, stepping closer. “Always tryin’ to save the day, ain’t you, Martyr? Can’t just toe the line. Always got to make trouble.”

Abby grabbed Baby’s hand and ran the other way. When she didn’t hear footsteps behind her, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Marty hadn’t moved.

He stepped sideways, skipping slightly as Johnson neared. The guard slapped his stick against his empty palm in time with each step. Heart racing, Abby turned the corner and reached a door. Peeking through the rectangular window revealed a stairway that led down. She yanked the door open.

“No, Abby Goyer!” Marty’s bare feet slapped against the tile floor as he sprinted to her side. He grabbed her sleeve to keep her from going through. She bit her lip against the pain shooting down her left arm as Marty pulled her around the next corner, back to the elevators. Dr. Kane, Dr. Elliot, and Rolo ran toward them.

Marty stepped in front of her, inching backward.

Abby darted back to the stairwell. “Marty, what are you doing? There’s nowhere else to go.”

“But if we go down, we will be trapped,” Marty said.

“If we don’t, we’ll be caught.”

Marty’s forehead wrinkled. He yelled in frustration and pushed through the double doors. Abby grabbed Baby’s hand and followed.

Martyr’s hope sank with each step that took them lower. Dr. Goyer would be disappointed. He simply asked Martyr to get Abby out, and already Martyr had failed. How would escape be possible from the lower levels? And what would the Jasons do if they saw him? More importantly, what would they do if they saw Abby? Martyr
swallowed the queasy thought, pushing aside the haunting image of Dr. Woman’s broken body. He stopped on the landing between levels two and three and ran his hands over his face.

Abby took his hands in hers. “Don’t worry,” she said. “God will protect us.”

She looked frightened despite her brave words.

“We’ll go all the way down to level three,” Martyr said. “We need to be very quiet. The Jasons are sleeping on level two, and we don’t want to wake them.” He squeezed Abby’s hand. “I have a few hiding spots the doctors don’t know about.”

Martyr padded down the steps to level three, wincing as the door squeaked open into the dark hallway. They crept past the classrooms and stopped before the vast darkness of the recreational area. Four dim overhead lamps lit the large space.

Please, let everyone be asleep
.

Abby clutched his arm. “Marty. Where is the cafeteria and playground?”

“Upstairs. On level two.”

“There is a tunnel that leads outside. That’s how they brought me in.”

Martyr turned to face Abby. “What is a tunnel?”

“A way out. A long hallway that leads outside.”

“There is no
tunnel
at Jason Farms.”

Abby dragged Martyr toward the double doors in the center of the wall of reflecting glass. “It’s on the other side of the doors like these, on the level with the cafeteria. Let’s try.”

Martyr hesitated, certain Abby was mistaken. Surely he would have heard of a tunnel if one existed on level two. He handed her a keycard anyway. Abby poised it over the keycard box on one side of the doors. He held his over the other and counted to three, like the guards always did, before he and Abby swiped.

The door clicked.

Abby pulled it open. “We’ll go up one level and I’ll show you the door.”

“But what if someone comes down this way?”

Abby glanced up at the ceiling, where a camera’s lens glinted. “They’re watching us anyway. We may as well try.”

They punched the button on the elevator and waited. The elevator’s gears seemed to shift in slow motion. He prayed the Creator of Everything might allow the elevator to be—

Ding!

Martyr jumped and pushed Abby and Baby behind him. The elevator opened. Empty.

Thank you, Creator
.

They rode up one level. When the doors opened, Abby ran out to the left. Martyr jogged after her, pulling Baby alongside, but stopped when he saw the windows. Dark glass stretched the length of the hallway. Not reflecting glass. Windows. Baby pressed his palm to the window and grunted.

Martyr nodded. He and Baby were both thinking the same thing.
Why?
So the doctors could watch them eat, play, exercise, and study in the classrooms?

“Marty!” Abby said.

He turned to see Abby at the end of the hallway, standing at a door, keycard poised at the top of a keycard box. He furrowed his eyebrows. Where might such a door lead? Perhaps it was another staircase?

Could it really be a way out?

Filled with hope, Martyr immediately held his keycard to the free slot. Abby counted to three and they swiped their cards. A red light flashed on Martyr’s keycard box.

“Again,” said Abby.

They swiped their cards, but again the light blinked red. Over and over they tried, but the door would not respond.

“Different keycards must open different doors,” Abby said. “Whose cards are these?”

“Your father’s,” Martyr said.

“He probably doesn’t have clearance for the secret exit.”

Martyr turned, scanning the tinted windows for movement. “We must go back down. We need to hide.”

Martyr jogged across the spongy track, grabbing two towels off the pile by the weight bench before ushering Abby and Baby through a door in the middle of the far wall. The moment the door clicked shut, he tucked the towels against the crack at the foot of the door until he couldn’t see a speck of light. Then he felt along the wall until he found the switch and flipped it on, illuminating a dull bulb that buzzed softly. They would be found eventually—the guards knew about this hiding place—but at least here they would have some time to think.