Authors: Steven Spellman
Tags: #Fiction, #government, #science fiction, #futuristic, #apocalyptic, #virus, #dystopian
Actually, it worked
perfectly.
Answered the doctor, but not
immediately. He couldn’t truthfully deny that his patient’s
momentary malaise was heartening, even if it was for all the wrong
reasons. Seeing Geoffrey deflated encouraged the doctor that he was
still the one wielding the power here, even temporarily.
Geoffrey stopped twiddling
his thumbs, and his head (and his spirits too) flew upward.
It did?
Dr. Crangler
clapped his hands over his ears as quickly as Geoffrey’s head had
flown upward.
Oh, sorry Dr. Crangler,
sorry. Terribly sorry.
Geoffrey answered,
twiddling his thumbs faster than ever.
His sudden excitement had
thrown all his attention to the doctor and made his mental voice
overwhelming. The doctor’s hands were still slapped over his ears,
and though Geoffrey apologized another five or six times in a more
bearable tone, the doctor showed no sign of relief. Finally, he
just sat silently and waited, careful to never cease with the thumb
rotations. After what felt like hours Dr. Crangler finally moved
his hands away from his ears. Gently, the doctor touched his right
hand to the inside of his ear and inspected it for blood. Only then
did Geoffrey begin to realize the full extent of his abilities. The
doctor stood at strict attention, having leapt up at this latest
scare. He slowly returned to the chair, but still he said nothing.
Once reseated, the doctor heaved a few deep breaths and finally met
Geoffrey’s awestruck, confused, and most of all, frightened, gaze.
By the way Dr. Crangler was acting, Geoffrey was tempted to check
to make sure he hadn’t inadvertently given him permanent brain
damage.
Dr. Crangler opened his
mouth to speak and Geoffrey was so anxious to hear him say that he
was okay, that Geoffrey forgot to twiddle his thumbs for a moment.
Catching his lapse almost instantly, he resumed with an even more
fierce determination, chiding himself internally. Meanwhile, Dr.
Crangler, having opened his mouth to say something, yawned
deliberately instead. He opened his mouth a second time, again
giving every indication that he was about to speak, but only
performed the same yawn. At last, with an audible huff, Geoffrey
gave up. He stopped twiddling his thumbs, unlaced his hands, and
slumped his shoulders. “I think we should give it a break for a
while and just talk normally. At least, until I can figure out
what’s going on.” He said. He didn’t expect an answer from the
obviously ailing doctor and began to turn away, when he heard a
whisper.
“I think that would be
your best idea yet.” Dr. Crangler said so low that it was nearly
inaudible.
“What did you say?”
Geoffrey asked.
“Just give me a moment to
collect myself. That was pretty intense.” After a few moments had
passed, Dr. Crangler spoke again, in something much closer to his
regular voice. “Anyway, what I was saying was that your plan did
work. It worked marvelously actually.” Dr. Crangler wiggled a
finger to his ear again, and checked his finger for blood. “Much
better than I expected, to be honest.”
Geoffrey face lit up
instantly, then, just as instantly, grew more sober. “So
I…she…we…”
“Yes you did, and quite
successfully.”
“What
does
that
mean?”
“It means that Delilah
Hanson has been successfully impregnated.”
Chapter 29
Geoffrey had many
questions to be answered, but there was one that stood above the
rest. “How can you tell that Delilah is pregnant already? If we did
have sex, like you claim, then it would’ve been, what, just hours
ago, right? How can you possibly know something like that so
early?”
“I’m sure it seems like a
far stretch, Geoffrey, but I assure you we have the technology here
to determine the exact moment of conception…and you and Delilah had
definitely conceived. Don’t look so bewildered, Geoffrey, this is
great news. It is the news we were hoping for.”
As the conversation
continued, Geoffrey found that, thanks to Dr. Crangler and his
extensive alien studies, operations, etc., the government, and
especially this facility, had been afforded the opportunity to
extract and manipulate an insanely large host of futuristic
technologies, the majority of which were yet in the experimental
stage. They all promised advancements that were, until now, beyond
anyone’s wildest dreams.
The sorbent, the chamois
cloth that came with it, the small weapon Lieutenant Dan and his
men were holding—a device, Geoffrey learned, that was able to
harness the alien light similar to that in the Cleaning Lights, and
focus it to the strength of a million of Earth’s strongest lasers;
so, for its deceptive size, it was the deadliest weapon mankind had
ever had—the mirror truck’s invisible speakers, the mirror truck’s
one way mirror walls; all of that and much, much more was in one
way or other the result of alien intelligences.
Just another step closer to us becoming the aliens, and that,
in the name of progress,
Geoffrey thought
ominously. The Cleaning Lights may’ve also been, according to Dr.
Crangler, the reason Geoffrey had not experienced a hangover. The
doctor was surprisingly mum as to any further explanation about
this and Geoffrey noticed that he labored much harder than normal
to hide his thoughts on this particular matter.
No worries,
Geoffrey told himself.
He was just happy for the results, however they had come about.
But, as man can walk on the moon and still not eradicate the common
cold, so Geoffrey still had a difficult time understanding how a
pregnancy test could detect pregnancy at the very moment of
conception, even in the light of the many further reaching
technologies he had just been made privy to.
This brought the
conversation full circle and back to the most pressing situation at
hand, upon which Geoffrey found out even more from Dr. Crangler
that he hadn’t known a couple hours ago. First, though Delilah had
literally thrown herself at Geoffrey in the mirror truck, the sex
that had certainly been partially inspired by too much champagne
had not taken place precisely because of the same thing. Before
things had a chance to really heat up, both patients found that
their bladders were screaming for release, and Lieutenant Dan,
being the war-seasoned lieutenant general that he was, valued the
maintenance and following of orders over life itself. As such, he
strictly refused both Mr. Summons’s and Miss Hanson’s ardent pleas
to be let out, since it was strictly against the orders of not only
Dr. Crangler, but his superiors as well. Even when Delilah finally
honored his unwavering obedience with every form of profanity her
inebriated brain could conjure, the lieutenant general remained
completely immovable. There was no doubt that he would’ve let both
patients fill the rear of the mirror truck to its brim with piss
and still not ordered his men to unlatch the doors.
Luckily for them, however,
he did speed them back to the military complex before such an
undesirable set of circumstances could take place. So, no sex took
place on their outing, but that all changed after they were allowed
to use their separate bathrooms, and, also thanks to Dr. Crangler’s
arranging, they were allowed to both go back to Delilah’s
room—thankfully, without Lieutenant Dan present.
“So, we didn’t even make
it to your gourmet meals on our date, huh?” asked Geoffrey, in a
tone more than slightly downcast.
“I wouldn’t worry about
that too much.” returned the doctor, a faint but
uncharacteristically mischievous smile on his lips “Delilah and you
enjoyed your dessert.” Geoffrey looked up sharply. The realization
that if he and Delilah had indeed had sex in the facility, then it
would’ve been recorded by the cameras (as was everything else),
which meant that prying eyes watched the entire show, had been one
that Geoffrey was trying to avoid thinking about for as long as
possible. Now, with the fact thrown squarely in his face, Geoffrey
found himself speechless. “Hmm,” resumed the doctor. In a whisper
nearly as faint as when he and Geoffrey had had their last
telepathic communication, “Perhaps, I’ve acquired a bit of your
telepathy, because I bet I know what you’re thinking.” He rose back
up and resumed in his normal voice, “But, again, you needn’t worry.
I’m a doctor, not a voyeur. I only observed until it was clear that
things would progress as had been planned. After that…” he made a
gesture like that of turning off a television set. “I have no idea
if the same may be said of my superiors.” Doctor Crangler made a
helpless gesture.
The doctor then informed
his patient that if he had any further questions, they would have
to be answered another time, because Dr. Crangler needed to get
some important work done now that things were officially set in
motion. He gestured to the camera for the door to be opened, and
left in noticeable haste. Though the reason he gave for his abrupt
departure was a legitimate one, Geoffrey knew that it was not the
real one. The real reason the doctor had to leave in such a hurry
was because he was still experiencing extreme discomfort from
Geoffrey’s mental outburst earlier. It was clear that Geoffrey’s as
yet unexplained surge in mental ability was taking its toll on the
doctor. As he mused on this, looking down at his hands, he noticed
that it seemed to be taking a toll on him as well. He looked hard
at his arms and legs. Were they getting skinnier? He lifted each in
its turn, and, though it may’ve only been his imagination, he was
almost certain they were considerably lighter. He thought about the
late Mr. Reynolds (oddly, enough, the astronomer had not crossed
his mind for some time) and his emaciated frame, but quickly
brushed any hint of possible connection from his mind. At least for
now. The important thing was that Delilah was pregnant, and if
things went well, she would eventually bear the child that would be
the herald of hope for the entire world. Not a distant second in
terms of importance, as far as Geoffrey was concerned anyway, was
that he had been granted the opportunity to form a much needed bond
with someone with whom he may well be in love, and in this the most
dismal of times. He sat in his room now, uninterested in mental
exercises, content to let his mind wander, and waited to see what
would happen now.
Sure, he wanted to see
Delilah, to hold her in his arms, to stroke her beautiful black
locks, to ask her if the sex was good for her—that is, if
she
remembered it—but he
knew that she would now be under agonizingly close supervision for
the next nine months. He supposed she would be watched more in the
first trimester, since the beginning of the pregnancy is usually
the most precarious time of all, and especially since this was not
just any pregnancy, but the pregnancy to save all pregnancies. No
doubt Geoffrey would voice his opinion—repeatedly if necessary—that
he not only wanted, but also deserved time with Delilah. However,
he thought that just now it may be better to let the doctor, his
staff, and the powers that be, do their jobs. Besides, he could
certainly use some time to get himself together and try to come to
terms with everything that was happening all around him.
After a few solitary days
of thinking in the midst of trying to let his telepathy lie dormant
and unused—which was a job in and of itself—he decided that he had
had enough and wanted to see Delilah.
He had expected Dr.
Crangler to remind him of what he already knew—namely, that his
once-normally allotted times with Delilah would be greatly
discouraged at the very least until later on in the pregnancy when
things were more stable—but the crippling aloneness that led him to
make the suggestion of him fathering the child in the first place
had returned. Now that he wasn’t spending time in mental
concentration as before, it felt like his loneliness had returned a
hundred fold. Besides, if he wasn’t going to be allowed to see the
soon to be mother of his child for a while, what would it matter if
he started the process of wearing the doctor down now? Imagine his
surprise when he had barely finished his first request and Dr.
Crangler readily agreed.
“But my
advice is that you be very careful.” The doctor counseled somberly,
“Lieutenant Dan has been given direct orders to
disable
you if
you even appear to pose a threat.”
“Disable? If I pose a
threat! What’s going on?” he asked.
The doctor gave the same
‘it’s out of my hands’ gesture, before answering, “I’m sure you
know…” he began, with a knowing look.
“Actually,” Geoffrey interrupted “I
don’t
know. After
what I did to you, I’ve been trying not to use…” he gestured toward
his head at an angle that he thought the room’s camera might not
pick up.
“Really?” the doctor
seemed skeptical.
“Really.”
“Well, these next few
months will be touch and go for us as far as the pregnancy is
involved. A woman’s body is very intricate as far as impregnation
is concerned. Any kind of trauma, including emotional, can greatly
complicate or even thwart things altogether.”
“I understand, Doctor,”
Geoffrey answered “but does somebody think I’m going to hit her or
something?”
Dr. Crangler’s gaze
steadied in thought, choosing his words carefully. “Delilah’s been
given some special medication, to help things along. It’s very good
and poses little to no risk, but its one major side effect is that
it makes the patient…
moody
.” Geoffrey didn’t quite know
what to make of what Dr. Crangler was trying to tell him, and
though he could’ve easily listened in on his thoughts, he was
genuinely trying to refrain from that until he could be sure he
wouldn’t cause more damage than it was worth.