Terms (The Experiments Book 3) Page 4

  The aid brought in the tray just before five PM. She told him Billy was out, and the aid informed Cal just to leave it, he would get it later.

  After a few minutes, Cal could smell the coffee. It didn’t smell that bad, and since it would only get cold and wasted, she decided to sip it.

  Aldo had just arrived back to the room, as she was sipping from the brown cup. He held his own coffee in hand. He halted immediately when he walked in.

  “I thought I told you I’d get you a coffee,” he said. “You don’t need to drink the invalids.”

  “I know. I know. But it smelled good.”

  “It’s coffee. Now he doesn’t have one when he wakes. Should you be drinking so much coffee?”

  “Aldo,” Cal snickered “Should you be sounding like Jake?”

  Aldo grumbled.

  “There it is again.” She held out her hand speaking about his groan.

  At that moment, Billy stirred. He moaned some, turned, coughed and slept.

  “See.” Aldo pointed. “He’s waking. Now he’s stuck without coffee.”

  “Not really. Not if you go get him one.”

  Aldo stared. He set down the Styrofoam cup. “You’re lucky I am nice and bored.”

  “Thanks, Aldo.”

  “You wanna drink that until I get back.” He referred to his own cup.

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be back.” He turned.

  “Aldo?’

  “Yes.”

  “Will you get me a cup, too?”

  “Cal … how many cups is that?”

  She tossed out her hand to him. “It takes a lot. I’m having twins, so my threshold is higher.”

  “I don’t believe that, you know.”

  “ I know.”

  “I’ll be back.” Another step …

  “Aldo.”

  He stopped. “Yes.”

  “Do they have espresso?”

  “Cal …” he spoke calmly. “It’s a hospital coffee shop. No.”

  “Oh,”

  After a moment, after looking at the disappointment on her face, he exhaled. “Would you like me to find you an espresso?”

  Like a child, Cal nodded excitedly. “If it’s not too much trouble. And … and could you pick Billy up a desert?”

  “Why am I picking up Billy a desert?”

  “Because I ate his Jell-O.”

  “Cal, if you’re hungry, I’ll get you food.”

  “No. No.” She shook her head. “The Jell-O was melting. I had to eat it.”

  “It wasn’t melting. You were hungry.”

  “Yeah, Aldo it was melting.”

  “Cal, they put stuff in there so it doesn’t melt. Should I get you food?” he asked.

  “Um … no. We’ll go for a late dinner after visiting hours.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “I’m leaving.” Aldo turned and with hesitation took another step toward the door.

  “Aldo?”

  “I knew it.”

  Cal snickered. “Maybe just a salad. A small one to tide me over.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Cal gave a thumbs up,

  Aldo, not taking any more chances, hurriedly left the hospital.

  “Too bad you’re missing this,” Cal spoke to a sleeping Billy. “But, you’ll get up soon.” Folded arms, she stood in her boredom and paced around the room. She read the card on the flowers from Caldwell, the card from the network. There was a bouquet of flowers, blue with a balloon. Cal read that card as well. “Who’s Anita?” she asked. “I never heard that name before.”

  After replacing the cards, she went back to her bed side chair. She picked up the phone, and lifted the tablet next to it. A number was on there and she dialed it. “Hey, got your machine again. This is Cal, your brother’s friend. Just giving you an update. He’s still sleeping. Call you in the next hour. Bye.” Hanging up, Cal lifted the remote. She flipped through the channels. “Reality shows. God. We were our own reality show. Better than this.” She snickered. “Survivor. Look Bill. Survivor. Jake and I so make fun of that game show …” She released a laughing breath and paused. “Wow. Burger King.” She titled her head when the burger, juicy and flame broiled, rotated about the screen. “I haven’t had Burger King in a while.” Quickly flipping off the television, Cal lifted the phone and dialed again. “Hey, Aldo.” She paused to laugh. “No. No. Just a latte will work. But … can you stop at Burger King? It won’t spoil my late night dinner. I promise. Thanks.” Giddy, she hung up. “Aldo’s getting me a Whopper.”

  She focused briefly on the television once more, then her eyes shifted to his dinner tray. Cal stood and paced her way to the cart. She lifted the silver lid. “What is this, roast beef?” she lowered her head and sniffed. After a shrug, she poked her finger in the gravy. “Not bad. Jake wants to keep me on a strict nutritionally fit diet, you know.” She started to lower the lid, but she paused.

  Billy was still sleeping.

  “This is only gonna go to waste, right? Right.” Setting down the lid, Cal picked up the fork.

  A few bites wouldn’t hurt. After all, she had that fast food burger coming shortly.

  Caldwell, Research Island

  Stan never did get that suntan he had hoped for, after all seven months on a tropical island should have bred some color. But instead he was sheltered inside and for the last leg, even more closed in when the Amoebas took over.

  He boarded that helicopter for safety, kicked back in a hotel in Hawaii, and planned a little rest.

  He had grown a hatred for that island. Plus in one of the last conversation he had with Dr. Haynes, the devious director indicated to Stan, “when you get back you are so fuckin’ fired.”

  Stan didn’t sweat it. Actually he welcomed it. Although he had been part of Caldwell research for many years, it may have been time to move on.

  Bigger and better things. Stranger things.

  He had received word that the Virginia Bigfoot society was looking for a scientist to monitor things. To live in a cabin six months out of a year, and watch for Bigfoot.

  Sasquatch was not a fear for Stan. Not after the stasis.

  But hours of daydreaming of being the one and only to discover the mythically creature was actually for real, came abruptly to an end.

  He had to return to the island.

  “What? I’m not fired? I thought I was fired.”

  Haynes smirked over the phone. Stan couldn’t see him, but he could imagine the arrogant little scientist.

  “No, Stan,” Haynes replied “Why would we let such an asset as yourself go?”

  Wanting to call him all sorts of names, to get fired, Stan stopped short when Haynes offered him ten grand to return to the island for another week for cleanup.

  “When do I leave?” Was his response.

  So there he was.

  Back on the island. Alone with the exception of the pilot. The once tropical beauty looked as if it were hit with a nuclear weapon. Everything was burned out when they napalmed it.

  Very little green remained, and not only was the island burned; the institute seemed to have doused it with water. Probably sea water. Not only to extinguish any blazes, but to disintegrate any remaining amoebas.

  Stan tread cautiously. He of all people knew first hand how deadly and out of control the amoebas could be.

  “I hate this place,” he said to the pilot.

  “So you’ve said. About a hundred times.”

  “That’s because I do. I hate it. I was here for seven months.”

  “I know.”

  “I thought I was above this.”

  “Coming back?”

  “Heck, yeah.” Stan said. “Usually only flunkies go out in the field to collect evidence. I stopped being a flunky when I became a controller. Not that you know what that is.”

  “Nope. Don’t know.”

  “Well, that’s fine. But just know that I’m a controller.”

  �
�Are we supposed to just be here on the beach?” The pilot asked.

  “That’s what Haynes said. Which tells me ….” Before he could finish his sentence, Stan nodded. “Yep. There.” He pointed to the helicopter making its way closer. “He arrives.”

  It didn’t take long for the helicopter to land down the beach, and Stan was grateful for that. The last thing he wanted was sand blown in his face.

  Haynes was alone, that surprised him.

  The helicopter blades ceased to turn, the motor faded, and Haynes stepped out. He walked toward the beach, dressed more for a business meeting rather than a destroyed former tropical paradise.

  “Stan.” Greg extended his hand with his typical, closed mouth smile. “You look well.”

  “I was resting in Hawaii, you know.” Stan replied. “Planning on a tan. One I never got while I was here for seven months.”

  “Really?” Greg lifted his chin and a ‘what do you know’ fashion. “You like the island life. Getting a tan?”

  “Ha, ha, ha. Is that a sarcastic reference to this place?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Cause this place sucks. It really sucks. You want me to lead the clean up and extraction crew don’t you.”

  “You can say that.”

  Stan whined. “See? Why? I thought I had risen above that.”

  “Stan you know this place better than anyone. I need you here at least for the first couple days. Help the crew. I know you don’t mind.”

  “Do I have to sleep here?”

  “No, we’ll fly you in and out daily.”

  Stan exhaled. “I guess that will work. But you do know I’m not gonna get a tan. This place is surrounded by a cloud. And we should be wearing suits in case the amoebas survived. One is all that it takes.”

  “The crew with the equipment should be arriving shortly.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. This place sucks,” Stan shook his head. “I can’t wait to get back to Caldwell, since I didn’t lose my job.”

  “Stan. Stan.” Greg laid a hand on his shoulder and started to walk with him, “Why would I get rid of you. You’re our best controller.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “Besides, I need you.” Greg told him. “I need you to help right away. A controller of sorts, more of an observer on site. Advisor, you name it. In fact, I thought you’d like it. A little tropical paradise.”

  Stan’s eyes widened in fear.

  “Not here. Elsewhere. Closer to home. Easy. Easy job. Phase one is.”

  “Sort of a controller?” Stan said. “Advisor? Observer. Phase one.”

  “Yep.” Greg nodded.

  “Are we talking preparations for Iso-Fourteen, because really, isn’t it a bit soon?”

  “No. Not Iso-fourteen yet …” Greg said. “You can say it’s more like …” He paused and smiled. “Iso-Stasis Thirteen … continued.”

  ***

  Cedars of Sinai Hospital - Los Angeles, CA

  “You hate me,” Billy said weakly through cracked lips. He was propped up some in his bed, color had returned to his face.

  “No Billy, I don’t hate you at all. How can I?” Cal questioned him. “What would make you say that?”

  Aldo replied. “He sold out.”

  “Aldo please,” Cal told him. “Billy?”

  “I sold out,” Billy said.

  Cal sipped her coffee.

  “Do you think I sold out, Cal?” Billy asked.

  Again, Cal sipped.

  “You do.”

  “She does.” Aldo added.

  “I don’t. I just …” Cal exhaled. “Ok, I do. But I understand your reasoning.”

  “I’m glad you do. Because I know Caldwell can give me back my leg.”

  Aldo mumbled, “Yeah, but what else are they gonna do to you.”

  Both Cal and Billy looked at him.

  “What? You aren’t thinking it?” Aldo chuckled. “If you didn’t think of that, Cal, you aren’t as bright as I give you credit. But since you rarely disappoint me, I know you thought of it.”

  “I thought of it, but hey …” she said brightly. “Look at it this way. At least for the first part of it all I get to make sure you’re OK.”

  Billy asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Check this out.” Cal scooted her chair closer. “Because, you know, I’m pregnant and the experiment had a bit to do with it, I have to partake in Caldwell research if I fit the criteria. Well, I’m doing this research thing for pregnant women on a Caldwell island, the same island at the same time you’ll be getting testing for the bionic spare part.”

  “You’re doing a pregnant experiment?” Billy asked.

  “Well, sure. Puff stuff. Pampered and stress tests. Nothing dangerous.” Cal flung out her hand.

  “Caldwell.” Billy nodded. “An experiment. What’s the catch?”

  “There really is none.” She looked at Aldo when he snickered. “Seriously. I don’t get paid the compensation the other women do. But there’s no catch.”

  “Has to be a catch.” Billy said.

  Aldo added, “That’s my point. What about the fact that you two are off and about again, while Jake is home alone.”

  Cal laughed at that. “Aldo, don’t be silly. Why would that be a catch?”

  “Sort of like a mental endurance for your husband,” Aldo replied.

  As if he said the funniest thing in the world, Cal giggled “Aldo please, why would Jake worry?”

  “You can’t be serious?” Aldo asked “Cal, you two have a history of romping on tropical islands and getting yourself in trouble.”

  “We’re fine.”

  Billy said, “I have to agree with you Cal. That can’t be it.”

  “See?” Cal smiled arrogantly at Aldo. “Billy agrees. No real catch.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say that,” Billy stated. “I just said I didn’t agree with Aldo that Jake’s mental endurance was the catch. They are sending you, Cal. Miss Survivor. On a research study. Please, it’s Caldwell. There’s a catch.”

  ***

  Cleveland, OH

  The Iso Stasis Application sat on his desk with a handwritten note that read: ‘Fill out at your leisure. No promises. Greg.’

  Carter Gray at forty six looked better and fitter than a lot of men half his age. He was lean and strong, with cropped hair that hadn’t even begun to grey yet.

  On his desk was a picture of a woman. A beautiful woman, and in that picture was Carter and two other young girls, both teenagers. The photo had collected as much dust as his West Point Diploma that perched next to it.

  He clicked away on the keyboard, finishing off a simple ‘thank you.’

  The attachment to the email needed opening and with a simple ‘click’ of it, a program ran.

  An image appeared on his screen, and Carter smiled a smug smile, he began the process to print it.

  Finger tapping on his lip, he watched the printer ejected the image on high quality photo paper. It took a while, but Carter had time.

  Once it was finished, he flapped it to make sure it wouldn’t smear. Trimmed it to the actual image so as to remove the white of the paper, then grabbing a roll of tape, walked off.

  In his modest two bedroom apartment, cluttered with books and other memorabilia of his life, Carter opened the door to a closet.

  A walk in closet he had transformed. He turned on the light and stared at the wall.

  Magazine covers, photos, articles, all graced that wall. And like the picture he held in his hand, they all had to do with Jake.

  He found a spot on his wall collage and adhered the photo there.

  There was something about the wall. It wasn’t a shrine, nor was it a twisted psychotic obsession, it was more.

  A goal.

  Above all the photos, magazine and newspaper clipping, hung a sign.

  “Live it. Learn him. Beat him’

  After reading it like he always did, Carter shut out the light, walked out, and closed the door.

&nbs
p; ***

  Fayetteville, North Carolina

  Jake could smell the pizza as the aroma ascended from the kitchen. Fresh pizza, just delivered, and it annoyed him. He didn’t want to smell that, he wanted to smell Cal. He tried to do so desperately as he unpacked a few items.

  He couldn’t believe it. Home again, and home alone … again. He had to keep reminding himself it wasn’t like the last experiment. Cal would be home and it wouldn’t be long before he saw her or talked to her. In fact, he debated on calling, but didn’t want to bother her. She’d call when she had time.

  Why she hadn’t had the time to call... now that bothered Jake. At that moment though, he concentrated on getting unpacked and back into the swing of things. He had the debriefing already done, but he was sure he’d have a million other things to do the next day at work. Had it not been for important issues, he probably would have declined having company.

  The sound of it should have bred a smile on his face. The sound of Rickie shouting out, long and singing, “Dude!”

  Instead it irritated Jake.

  “Dude!”

  Jake shook his head and continued the task at hand.

  “Sarge, like hurry, The Chuck Miester has arrived!” Rickie shouted.

  ‘Ignore him,’ Jake thought. “Does he actually think I can’t hear.”

  “Sarge!” Rickie screamed.

  “Rickie, Jesus Christ, I know!”

  Within seconds, the running, thumping footsteps drew nearer.

  “Christ,” Jake grumbled.

  “Sarge.” Rickie stood in the doorway.

  “Rickie. What?”

  “Like Chuck is here.”

  “Like I know.”

  “So like why aren’t you coming down?’

  “Because, Rickie I am busy.”

  “Dude, that is so rude.” Rickie laid his hand on his chest. “Our friend. Who we haven’t seen in like forever, is here. But you’d rather stay upstairs and sulk because of the Cal-Babe.”

  “I am not sulking.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Prove it?” Jake dropped a shirt. “Rickie …. I’m busy. I won’t be long.”