The Mendel Experiment (19 page)

Then she thought of her stone. What was she going to do with it? If they took it from her, she’d most likely never see it again. She pulled it from the pouch and studied it as she thought. It was pulsing with bright blue light. A sudden inspiration surprised her. She held the gem next to her side and closed her eyes, concentrating. A fold of skin at the bottom of her gliding flap lengthened, thinned and then enveloped the stone. By the time she heard someone opening the outer hatch, there was nothing to show where the stone was other than a slight lump on her side. Corree tossed her carry pouch under one of the flight chairs.

The hatch slid open and a man walked in. He was taller than the cave leader, but shorter than most Ologrians. He wore an outfit similar to an Ologrian jumpsuit, except this one covered his entire body, including his head. Where the face was, the material was clear. He had devices in his hands and Corree hoped they were testing devices, rather than weapons. When he pointed one of the instruments toward her and studied it, she knew he was a scientist rather than a soldier.

“It appears you have not brought any weapons,” the human said.

“That’s kind of a stupid statement,” she retorted.

His eyes showed his surprise, but he made no reply to her sarcasm.

“First of all, what weapons would you expect me to have? Second, I am not like humans who seem to enjoy massacring people who are different.”

Again there was no reaction to her statement. He merely smiled and said, “Welcome to Science Station 500.”

Corree gazed at him more closely and was startled to realize that this was the holo-man. Or the holo-man had been created in this man’s image. “I didn’t ask to come here.”

“But we wanted to talk to you.” The smile didn’t waver.

Corree bit off a quick retort. She wanted answers of her own and getting angry wasn’t going to obtain them for her. It also didn’t help that she was at these humans’ mercy to get back home. It was like Alogol all over again. “I want to talk to someone, too.”

“Good! Then come with me.” He pulled off the head-piece, meticulously folded it and slid it in a pocket.

Corree unfastened her seat restraints and followed the scientist. As she stepped through the hatch, two others fell in behind her. They walked down one of the austere corridors of her dreams. She wondered where everyone else was. The floor echoed the footsteps of the three humans making it sound like a troop of warriors. They went through another hatch and into an elevator.

When the door opened, Corree was met by a good-sized group of humans, all in the same color maroon and light blue colored clothing, all staring at her as though she was some kind of weird animal. She felt like the main course at her family’s dinner. Corree assumed most of them were scientists by their outfits. They all had the same affected smile on their faces that the holo-man always had.

“Welcome, Corree 942,” one of them said. The others’ smiles broadened. “We are most grateful you chose to come here and talk to us.”

“But I didn’t choose to come here.” She tried to stay as emotionless as the humans.

“Of course you did. You do have questions, don’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Questions are best answered in person.”

She nodded, unable to dispute the logic.

“You are here to have them answered.”

“And then I can return home.” She made it a statement, not a question. She was not in control of this situation, but she could still be assertive.

The scientists looked at one another briefly before turning back to her. “That should not be a problem,” the leader told her.

The looks and tone spoke volumes. She had to tread carefully. Things had worked out for her with the Ologrians. She might not be so lucky with her own kind.

“Come with us. I am sure you are hungry and thirsty. We will talk a little during dinner and you can ask your questions then.”

Corree didn’t want to wait to ask her question about the destruction of Alogol. “Why did you send a missile to destroy the Alogol?”

Several scientists looked confused, but the others gave each other the same insipid smiles as before. She wasn’t surprised.

“Come. Refresh yourself, Corree 942.” They motioned her before them. She had

“Why the number?” she asked, figuring this was a safe question.

They were eager to answer. “You were the 942
nd
child created here.”

The group walked several more corridors before the doors opened to a large room filled with several long tables. Steaming bowls enticed her with their aromas. Her stomach growled in protest. Corree briefly wondered if there might be something added to her food to make her sleep or do what they wanted. There was nothing she could do about it if there was.

Chapter Seventeen

Corree watched the scientists sit down in what seemed to her to be predetermined places. The holo-man scientist motioned her to a spot in the middle of one of the long tables. Thankfully, her back was to the wall so she could see everyone in the room. Corree sat down and waited. Aromas warred with each other in the room. Most seemed pleasant, but others she wasn’t sure about. The other scientists, about twenty-five, waited and watched her. Again came the feeling she was a specimen in one of sha-Greelon’s trays.

Finally an older scientist, who was sitting directly across from her, pulled a bowl closer to him and took off the cover. He ladled out some of the contents into a small bowl in front of him. When he was done, he pushed the large bowl closer to her. Corree followed his example. It was some kind of liquid with a variety of different colored chunks in it. The human ate several spoonfuls of the concoction. When nothing happened to him, Corree ate some, too. It had an unfamiliar but pleasant flavor. By now, everyone else was eating.

The meal was not half-finished before they began peppering her with questions—mainly about the Ologrians. She answered as generally as she could while also trying to enjoy the food. It wasn’t easy.

“When did you begin remembering your origins?” a concerned voice broke into the babble.

This was the man who had taken the first bowl of food. His concern seemed real. She told him about her dreams and the first visit to the teaching pod.

“Five years and you had no idea! I am impressed.”

He had the look of one of the old ones of her dreams, but not quite as old. His hair was mostly gray. He had a few wrinkles on his face, but they were mainly around his eyes. Then it dawned on Corree that many of the scientists were not as old as the ones in her dreams. The really old scientist was not there. Had the younger ones replaced the older scientists? She frowned. Why wouldn’t this man know about her and how many years she had lived on Mendel. She asked him.

He smiled. “You are very astute. I just got here.”

“Oh.” Corree wondered about this human across from her. He seemed to have the same genuine concern Greelon had for her. Still she was wary. He asked her questions about her life on Mendel, which she didn’t mind answering. She began ignoring the other scientists’ questions. They felt like verbal needles, making her squirm at their intrusiveness.

Finally the dinner was over, to her relief, and Corree pleaded fatigue. She
was
tired. Two scientists escorted her down another corridor, making several turns before stopping in front of a closed door. One of them placed a small metal disc against the door. It whooshed open and Corree looked in at a room that was twice as large as the one she had lived in on Alogol. It was not lacking for extras either. The nest, or rather bed, was large enough for her whole family. There was a section that held a small table similar to the large ones in the eating area. An eating place with a sleeping place? There was a screen in one corner. There were pictures showing on it. Corree assumed they were from the Federation home planet. She couldn’t remember the name, but she really didn’t care.

The door slid shut behind her, but Corree didn’t turn around. She knew she was alone…and being watched. Despite its size, surveying the room didn’t take that long.
Oh, Greelon,
she thought,
I wish you were here to advise me.
Corree felt fatigue drift over her like fluff from the inside of a giant rainbow flower. She climbed onto the bed and fell asleep immediately.

When she woke, the monitor was silent and two scientists were standing at the foot of her nest.

“I take it you slept well?” the older of the two asked.

“Yes,” she replied, wondering why the voice sounded familiar. The scientist had not been at the dinner yesterday. At least she didn’t think he had. The old one! He sounded like the old one of her first dreams. He also sounded a little like the emotional holo-man.

“My name is Dr. Jayson Windemere. My uncle started this great scientific community,” he boasted.

There was something about him… Corree felt she needed to be very careful around this Windemere.

“He was the one who created you and all the other colonists on Mendel. When all has been achieved, you and the others will be heroes.”

Corree almost snorted. She tried to speak as evenly as she could. “Why did you bring me here?”

“We wanted a firsthand report on how the colonies were doing. Since you had visited several, you were the most sensible choice.”

“What if I hadn’t come?” Corree asked.

“That is a useless supposition,” he replied, his voice still buoyant, but with slight inflections of irritation. “Since you did come.” He smiled. “We also wanted to know about the Ologrians. Apparently you were able to get away from them with few adverse effects.”

“No adverse effects,” she corrected him. “And I was free to go. They returned me…and Riss, to Mendel. That alone should prove they are willing to live peacefully with the Federation.”

“You will learn that you are naïve about them,” he snapped. Windemere asked several more questions about the Ologrians, which Corree refused to answer.

“Am I allowed to wash?” she asked blandly, sliding out of the bed.

“Hmm, uh, yes,” he replied, turning his eyes away. “Then we’ll have breakfast.”

Corree was not the least bit embarrassed by her state of undress. After all, she had lived on Mendel for five years with only the protection of her thick pelt and a lizard skin cloak during the rainy season. Corree was pleased to see him discomfited, though. Windemere placed a one-piece outfit on the end of the bed and then turned away. He and his companion didn’t leave the room, though. Did they think she could get away? Apparently their genius was in creating and destroying things and not in logical thought.

Breakfast was much like the dinner with almost the same number of people. This time the food was served from one side of the room and each person got their own. Windemere brought a tray with different plates of food over to where she was sitting. Before he could sit down next to her, though, someone else slipped into the seat. It was the older man from the previous night. A woman who didn’t seem to be much older than Corree sat across from her. She could feel some concern and curiosity from the man, but nothing at all from the woman. In fact, she had been able to pick up very little from any of these people since her arrival. Were they able to keep their thoughts from her or was she not able, in this place, to feel others’ emotions or thoughts?

Windemere glared at the man who had taken his seat, then fixed his gaze on one of the scientists sitting near her. The scientist rose and moved to the end of the table. Corree began wondering if the older man was someone other than a scientist. The woman, too. If they weren’t scientists, who were they and why were they here?

Corree did not try to answer all the questions. She used her breakfast as a diversion. Most of the queries centered on the Ologrians again. As she had with Windemere, she ignored them. After breakfast, Corree expected to be hustled to a laboratory. Instead she found herself escorted to a recreation area.

She had maintained her forest form, with the mutated fold of skin hiding her blue gem stone. Corree felt its gentle pulse just below her ribs and it reassured her.

One of the younger scientists showed her how to play a game that worked with the monitor. Some kind of creature was trying to kill or capture a group of humans. Even though it looked realistic, it was still a game and Corree almost laughed after all the dangers she had been through. The scientist aimed the game weapon and the game creature’s arm blew off. Blood spewed everywhere and Corree remembered Riss.

She shook her head and moved to a small machine with wheels. When she stood on it, the vehicle propelled her around the room. She played with it for a few minutes before moving on to the next. Each toy seemed more intricate than the previous one. Corree remembered some of them from her training days on the station. She found most of them interesting, but none enough to play with more than a short time. Where she really wanted to be was in the forests of Mendel.

She was taken on a tour of the station and shown the places of her dreams. There were the teaching rooms and the growing rooms that she looked in through thick clear walls, much like Greelon had observed her during the voyage to Alogol.

Few children used them now. One or two of them looked at her in curiosity, but there was loneliness in their eyes. Corree wondered what was in store for them and felt sorry for them. When she asked to talk to them, the scientists hustled her to another room.

The rest of her time was spent answering questions. How did the Ologrians live; what did they eat; what kind of weapons they had. Corree thought the last question was strange since it had been the pod film that had shown her some of the alien weapons. She was also asked about Ologrian relationships and their children. Corree answered the social questions honestly. She was evasive about their weapons and had little idea about the children as Greelon didn’t have any. When she got tired, Corree simply quit answering.

This went on for many day/night cycles with different scientists and non-scientists in attendance. Corree began looking for ways to escape just as she had on Alogol. Problem was, they had a pretty good idea what she could do and there never seemed any time when the scientists weren’t working with her or observing her.

After a particularly exhausting day that also included a long video where the virtues of the home planet were extolled, Corree flopped down on her bed. She hoped sleep would come quickly. Instead, she felt the presence of someone else in her room.

“Windemere’s people want you to cooperate with them,” a woman’s voice hissed. “They want to use you to show their success here. If they cannot win you over, they will experiment on you.”

Corree sat up and saw the woman in the dark corner of her room. She seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place her. “And what do
you
want?” She could feel nothing from the woman’s mind.

“I want nothing but your safety. They are using you.”

Now Corree recognized the voice. It was the long-haired, light-skinned woman who sat across from her during several meals. She had mainly asked her questions about how she was being treated on the science station. In the dim light of her room, the woman’s long, almost white, wavy hair had fascinated her more than anything she said. Corree pulled her eyes away from the woman’s hair and gazed into her eyes. They were unreadable. “I don’t think you are a scientist. Why are you here? Why do you want to help me?”

“We are here to investigate this operation. To see what they might be doing that are against the articles of the Federation.”

“What do you mean by that? And why are you telling me this? Or is it that you want to ask your own questions?”

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to ask you questions. But most important, we don’t want to see you hurt. The Federation allows scientific experimentation on humans, but only under strict controls and for certain purposes.”

Corree said nothing. She watched the shadowy form come closer to her bed. The woman pulled her hair back and fastened it up very tightly at the back of her head.

“We can help you get away from here.”

“So I can go home?” Corree ventured, hardly daring to hope.

“Yes.”

Corree’s ability to look into another’s mind had always been limited, but it disturbed her that this one was like touching a cold, hard wall. There was not even a whisper of emotion. She hesitated.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you.” But Corree wasn’t sure. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Then why are you sitting there?” The voice was impatient.

Despite her misgivings, this was action where there had been no chance before. She slid off the bed. “What are you going to do?” She almost said “with me.”

“Leave. We have a ship ready.”

Still feeling uneasy, Corree followed the woman to the outer door. It whisked open where a guard stood. He whirled around, surprised. Before he could say or do anything, the woman held something to his side and he slumped to the floor, choking. He twitched and was still.

Corree started to ask if he was dead, but her companion grabbed her arm and jerked her into the corridor. They were joined by the older man. Their flight down the corridor was practically silent. They met no one, for which Corree was grateful. She didn’t recognize these corridors. The way continued to be empty. Finally the trio stopped in front of a hatch. The man examined it, checked the door controls, and then pulled a device out of his pocket. He aimed it at the door, which whooshed open with explosive force. This time the woman had a different weapon. The guards in the room only had time to look surprised before they slumped to the ground. Corree saw their chests move, so she assumed the weapon was some kind of stunner.

“Quickly! Windemere has to know by now,” the man snapped.

They ran toward an open airlock and rushed through. Apparently Windemere did know. He sat in the pilot’s chair of the medium-sized space craft, a large weapon pointed at them.

“Leaving before we could say good-bye?” he asked, his voice sounding smug.