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Authors: Andrew Taylor

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“It’s just a mosquito bite,” he said. “Must have got it as I walked here tonight.”

“That’s an injection mark.”

“It is not…” Henry stopped dead as he remembered the way Nurse Levin had slapped him on the upper arm before leaving him in the examination room. He was pretty sure the slap
had been on the exact same spot where the so-called injection mark was now coming up. Could Levin have had some kind of syringe concealed in his palm? Had they drugged him? Henry shook his head and
laughed to himself. He was getting caught up in Christian’s paranoid fantasies – it was pretty easy to do. “Why would they want to drug me?”

“To get you inside the scanner,” Christian replied. “Not much reason to conduct a brain scan as part of a normal medical exam, right? But for someone who has passed out in
their waiting room…”

Henry played along for the moment. “And what is the purpose of the brain scan?”

Christian grinned enigmatically at him. “Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and passed it across the
table. “Take a look at this.”

Henry unfolded the paper. It was a printout of a news story from the internet entitled
Polish Doc Struck Off for Gene Crimes
. Scanning the article, he made out that it was about a Dr.
Chenowski of Krakow University who had been accused of violating international law in the attempted cloning of human babies. Chenowski had fled the country and was wanted by Interpol for multiple
breaches of the international agreement on genetic engineering. At the top of the paper, someone had scrawled in black pen:
Think this is our woman – Fox
.

“So?” Henry said, passing the paper back to Christian.

“Dr. Chenowski now works for Malcorp,” Christian said. “Except she changed her name to Chancellor.”

“Oh come on! Chenowski’s a wanted criminal!”

“She’s got a new identity.”

“And what makes you so sure it’s her?”

Christian produced another printout, this time a grainy black and white image of a dark-haired woman surrounded by police officers. The caption underneath read:
Chenowski arrested outside
Krakow clinic
. Again the paper was marked with the name
Fox
. Henry strained to make out the face of the woman, trying to match it with what he’d seen of Dr. Chancellor.

“It’s her, right?” Christian insisted.

“Chancellor has blonde hair.”

“She dyed it!”

“I can’t tell from this picture. It’s way too blurry.”

“How about this?”

Christian passed him another web news story, auto-translated from the Polish and dated from the early-nineties, the headline:
Beauty Contest Crowns Local Girl
. The story was about
eighteen-year-old Magda Chenowski, a medical student who had won a beauty pageant in the city of Lodz. The picture showed a stunning, tall girl wearing a ribbon and clutching a bouquet of
flowers.

“Right?”

“She’s twenty years younger!”

“It’s her!”

Henry tapped the same handwritten note on the top of the story. “Who’s this Fox?”

“My contact.”

“Your contact?”

“Fox feeds me information.”

“It sounds like Fox is feeding you bull. Who is he?”

Christian shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Not until I know you better.”

That line again.
It was the final straw for Henry, who decided he’d wasted enough of his evening on Christian’s fantasies. For all he knew, the kid
was
Fox and had
pulled the stories off the net himself. He was clearly in need of a friend and perhaps thought that inventing a story about psycho doctors in Malcorp was the way to get one. But he was sorely
mistaken.

“Where are you going?” Christian asked, his face falling as Henry rose from his chair.

“I think I’ve heard enough.”

“But I have more evidence!” He grabbed Henry’s arm in desperation. “You have to listen! There aren’t many of us left!”

“What are you talking about?” Henry demanded, pulling free.

“There aren’t many…
normal ones
left.”

Henry couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Okay, Christian. Perhaps I’ll see you at school tomorrow, huh? Don’t drink too much coffee. You don’t need it.”

With that, he turned and strode to the door, determined to get home as quickly as possible and get an hour in on his PS3 before he had to hit the sack. But something caught his eye as he put his
hand on the door…and it stopped him in his tracks.

Hanging by the door was a framed photograph, one among about a hundred in the cafe. But this one wasn’t of a band or a film star or a cafe scene from the 1930s. And it stood out because it
was colour, not black and white. It showed two teenage girls, smiling and laughing at the camera and dressed up as if they were preparing to go out for a party. Henry recognized them both.

One was Gabrielle Henson, the terrified girl he’d met at the gas station.

The other was the girl who’d served him a Diet Coke just ten minutes before.

Reaching out, he plucked the photo off the wall and slowly turned back into the cafe. The girl behind the counter had closed her book and was looking directly at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m Fox,” she said. “And we need to talk.”

 

Five minutes later, Henry and Christian were sitting on a worn-out couch in the tiny apartment above the coffee shop. The girl calling herself Fox had closed up the cafe (Henry
guessed that she wasn’t expecting any other customers that evening anyway) and led them up a narrow staircase behind the counter into the cluttered lounge. Every surface was piled with books,
ornaments or stacks of paper, as if the contents of an apartment three times larger had been squeezed inside. Having ordered them to sit down and be quiet just as brusquely as she served coffee,
the girl had promptly disappeared into a back room and had not re-emerged.

“What’s going on, Christian?” Henry asked finally. The other kid had been unusually silent since they’d ascended the stairs.

“Fox has the answers,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Patience.”


Fox
,” Henry repeated. “What kind of name is that anyway?”

Christian shrugged. “Just an internet handle she uses, I guess. Her real name’s Michelle or something.”

“Uh-huh,” Henry replied, looking around the apartment. The kitchen was separated from the living area by a narrow counter; dirty dishes were piled in the sink. As in the cafe
downstairs, the walls were covered with framed pictures – although these were a mixture of watercolours and oils, not photographs. One of them, a painting of a forest – black trees
stark against a burning sky – caught his eye. He stood up to look at it. It was really good. And it was signed
Fox
in the bottom right-hand corner. He remembered the paint stains
he’d noticed on her hands earlier and looked around at the other pictures. At least half of them appeared to be by her.

One of the bedroom doors opened and the girl slipped through quickly, as if she didn’t want them seeing what was on the other side.

“Did you paint this?” Henry asked, pointing to the picture of the forest.

“So?” the girl said defensively, like she was expecting him to make fun of her over it.

“I like it.”

“Know a lot about art, do you?” Without waiting for a response, she walked through to the kitchen and started running water into the sink.

Henry looked at Christian in exasperation. “Maybe I should get going.”

“Just hold on,” Christian said. “You want to find out about Gabrielle, don’t you?” He looked round at Fox, who had her back to them and was placing dishes in the
sink. “Henry had a medical exam this morning.”

Fox stopped what she was doing and looked round with new interest. Picking up a towel from the counter, she dried her hands and moved towards them.

“What happened?” she asked.

Christian nodded encouragingly and Henry related the tale of his trip to the medical centre, even though he was impatient to know more about Gabrielle.

“He was drugged,” Christian added after Henry explained how he’d passed out on the floor of the examination room.


I had an inner ear infection
,” Henry argued. “It can cause dizziness.”

Fox, who had listened intently up to that point, said, “So you let them scan you?”

“I didn’t
let them
scan me,” Henry shot back. “I passed out. They were worried about me.”

“You seem fine now,” the girl added.

“Well, yes…”

“And you’ve never passed out before?”

“I’ve never had an inner ear infection before.”

“So
they
say.”

Christian nodded as if Fox’s arguments were making perfect sense. Henry thought back to the examination and how it seemed they hadn’t even examined the scan before making a
diagnosis. He asked cautiously, “So, what
was
going on then?”

Fox paused a moment before answering. “We think that’s how they change you. The doctors at Malcorp, I mean.”

Henry looked at them in confusion. “Change? Change who?”

Christian waved a hand at the front windows of the apartment. “All the kids in Newton. And all the kids at the Malcorp complex.”

Fox nodded. “We think the doctors at Malcorp medical centre are altering them somehow.”

Henry laughed out loud at the absurdity of the idea. “What do you mean, changing them? How exactly?”

“Turning them into good little boys and girls,” Christian replied. “Drones who do everything they’re told all the time. You’ve met Blake and the others,
haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but…” Henry thought back to the kids at the pool. Their weirdly detached manner. The way Mallory had treated Blake like a five year old and he’d just taken it.
Henry shook his head. “Okay, they’re a little…odd. But what you’re saying sounds crazy. Anyway, I came here to find out about Gabrielle Henson – not them.”

“Why are you so concerned about her?” Fox snapped, studying him with her intelligent eyes.

Henry shrugged.
Why am I so concerned about her?
he thought. It was a fair question. “I don’t know. I met her and she seemed to be in trouble…”

“And you just can’t resist a damsel in distress, right?” Fox said sarcastically.

“What can I say? I’m a hero like that.” He paused. “Honestly, she asked for my help and I felt that I could have done more. That’s all.”

Fox’s expression softened. “Did she seem okay? I mean, did she know who she was?”

Henry could tell from her voice that Fox was honestly concerned about her friend. “She was in a bad way,” he said carefully. “Looked like she’d been living rough, but
apart from that… She was talking to me until…”

“Trooper Dan grabbed her,” Christian finished.

“But Mallory told you she’s back and everything’s okay, didn’t he?” Fox pressed. “So why are you still asking questions about her?”

“I…”

“Or didn’t you believe him?”

Henry opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped. He realized that she was right. Deep down, he just didn’t believe Mallory’s story. There was something about it that just
didn’t fit with the terrified girl he’d met at the back of the gas station the day before.

“Mallory said she was disturbed,” Henry explained. “She was into drugs.”

Fox laughed harshly. “Drugs! And where do you think she got them from out here?”

“She made accusations against boys from the complex.”

“She was dating a guy,” Fox said. “He changed overnight. Didn’t want to see her any more.”

“That happens.”

“No, he
literally
changed overnight – said he had to devote time to his studies. Wouldn’t even talk to her. Gabrielle began asking questions around the complex and
that’s when she started getting scared…”

“And then she disappeared,” Christian finished for her.

“We used to meet up after school,” Fox continued. “One day about a month ago, she just didn’t turn up. So I called her mom and she told me that Gabrielle was sick and had
been admitted to hospital in the complex. When I asked if I could visit her, she told me that I was a bad influence and to stay away from her daughter. She told me that Gabrielle was sick in the
head and the Malcorp doctors were going to make her all better.” Fox’s face twisted with anger at the memory. “
She’s
the one who’s sick…a mother talking
about her own daughter like that. And do you know what the scariest thing was? I could tell she actually believed the crap she was saying.”

Christian nodded. “Malcorp putting words into her mouth. We think that’s how Mallory works it. Picks parents with some hard-line ideas about raising their kids in the first place and
exploits them.”


Exploits them?
” Henry said.

“You know,” Christian continued, “plays on all their natural fears that the big bad world is going to turn them into drug addicts or criminals the moment they’re out of
their sight. Mallory tells these parents he can make their kids perfect, upstanding citizens or something. Everyone’s happy.”

“Look,” Henry said, “I know you want to believe that there’s some conspiracy going on here, but the truth of the matter is that Gabrielle Henson is a kid who got her
heart broke and went off the rails…”

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