Chapter Twenty-Two

The TV crews hung around and socialized with the staff at the Center for Pure Science long after the interviews were over. It was evident from the way they spoke to each other that the media was more concerned with creating a good story than learning the truth.

“That went great, Director Sullivan.” The reporter shook the older man’s hand. “I think we got some beautiful shots of the patient, too.”

Director Sullivan glanced at the corner, where Melissa sat quietly in a chair waiting for someone to escort her back to her room. She wasn’t supposed to move unless a guard accompanied her. She didn’t have the energy to resist.

“It would have been spectacular if we could have spoken with Ms. Quinn, though,” Jim continued. “The public is going to absolutely fall head over heels for her. I was just an intern when the first story came out about humans and cyborgs interacting outside of Cyborg Sector. It was sensational, and I always hoped to cover something like that.” He glanced at Melissa with a hopeful look on his face.

Dr. Brown and Sullivan exchanged a glance before walking the reporter and his cameraman toward the front door. “She’s not ready yet.” Dr. Brown’s tone changed to friendly in an instant. “Ms. Quinn has been through a very stressful situation. It’s going to take a lot of time and patience before she’s ready for anything like an interview.”

Jim glanced over his shoulder at the patient but continued moving to the door. “Okay, I understand. Will you guys do me a favor and let me know when she’s ready? I could use the scoop, and it will be great publicity for your facility.”

Director Sullivan tried to force a smile on his face that only succeeded in making him look ghastly. “Of course we will, Jim. Have a great day.” As soon as the door closed behind them, the frown reappeared on his face. “I don’t like them. They’re too nosey.”

Dr. Brown shrugged. “I don’t know what you expected. He was right. It’s a sensational story. We’re lucky we managed to keep it from being a complete media circus.”

The two slowly made their way across the room toward Melissa. “I’m still not convinced leaking anything was a good idea. Once the story airs, it will be complete pandemonium in here. Everyone will be looking for a sweet story or approaching Melissa with book deals. I don’t feel like putting up with that.”

The woman shrugged and didn’t look concerned. “We can keep it under control. Since this isn’t a public building, our chances are better at keeping secrets than if we were at a regular hospital. Besides, don’t you think her story was going to get out eventually? She went to New York with a bunch of other college kids. They can’t all keep their mouths shut.”

“I suppose you’re right. Are you a doctor or a director of public relations?”

They were talking about Melissa like she wasn’t even there, but she was in no position to argue or complain. All she could do was sit on the cold, hard chair. She wore a thin hospital gown and a terrycloth robe someone had thrown at her. The clothes provided just enough warmth to make her realize she was freezing. Sullivan had carefully instructed her to remain silent when the television crew arrived. The reporters wanted to get some good pictures of her. Judging by the guards posted by the door and lurking in the background during the filming, she didn’t have a chance to escape.

Until now, she hadn’t truly considered it. The time spent with the Liberators and cyborgs had left her emotionally and physically drained. For the first few days, Melissa had been content to lie on her hospital bed, watching preapproved movies on the wall-mounted television and letting bags of saline solution drip into her veins.

She looked up when the doctor and director approached her.

“Do you think we can move her now?” Sullivan asked.

Dr. Brown checked her ever-present clipboard and frowned. “I think it’s safe. We don’t have a reason to keep her here.”

Melissa knew better than to let hope enter her heart. She didn’t know what they were talking about, but she suspected they weren’t sending her home anytime soon.

The woman nodded at a nearby orderly. “Take her back to the room and help her change clothes. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

The orderly complied quickly. He brought out a wheelchair from a nearby alcove and maneuvered it next to Melissa’s chair. Glaring at the administrators’ backs as they walked away, Melissa slowly sat down in the wheelchair. She knew she could walk, but it was nice to have someone push her around the building. It was like a maze in here. Although she hadn’t seen the outside of the building when she arrived, Melissa knew she had moved a lot inside.

“How long have you been working here?” Melissa had repeatedly been trying to strike up conversations with the staff members. It got lonely at the Center for Pure Sciences, and she hadn’t seen any other patients.

The orderly brought her to the end of the hallway before turned right.

Melissa looked up at him. “Did you hear me?” He was a young man, probably about her age, with short dark hair and the slightest shadow of stubble on his chin. His arms looked wiry and strong. All his muscles had a distinct outline on his body and made her think about Thunder. Melissa glanced away quickly.

Guiding her onto an elevator, the orderly pushed a button and waited until the doors closed to say anything. “I’m not supposed to speak with you.”

“I didn’t realize I was such a bad influence on people.”

The young man shifted around nervously and watched the panel flash through the floor numbers. “It has nothing to do with you. Orderlies don’t speak to anyone unless it’s necessary.”

Melissa shook her head. “It sounds like you’re just as much of a prisoner as I am. Do they let you leave at night? Or do they make you stay here, like me?”

The orderly shook his head and wheeled her off the elevator when they reached her floor. There were a few nurses around, so Melissa didn’t try to talk to him again. She wondered why he hadn’t answered her question, but she didn’t want to get him into trouble.

He brought Melissa to her room and produced a pale green jumpsuit from a drawer. “You should wear this. I’ll be back for you in five minutes.” He took the wheelchair and left.

Melissa didn’t like the look of the garment in her hands. It was hideous, for one thing. It looked like someone had placed a big order at the hospital gown factory. She noted that Purity Force had put their own spin on the fashion statement, somehow making it look appropriate for a prisoner behind bars. Melissa’s empty stomach angrily growled as she realized what was about to happen. The director and the doctor had put her on display for the media. Now that they were finished, it was time to put her away.

When the orderly arrived again, he didn’t have the wheelchair with him. He gestured for Melissa to walk toward the door. Taking her by the elbow, he strode down the hall and back to the same elevator she had been in a few moments before.

Safely ensconced inside, Melissa turned to the young man in white. “Tell me something, guy who isn’t supposed to talk with me. What do you think the chances are that I’ll get out of here alive? Have you ever seen anyone check out?”

The orderly pursed his lips and looked ahead. “Please don’t do this,” he pleaded quietly.

“I don’t think anybody can hear us.” Melissa wasn’t ready to give up. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone except Director Sad Pants and Dr. Bitch Face for the last few days. Give me a break, will you?”

Her reward was a brief twitch of the orderly’s lips that almost resembled a smile. He recovered quickly but couldn’t keep the sparkle out of his eyes. “I just don’t want to get in trouble, that’s all. You can’t imagine what demotion is like.”

Melissa chuckled, but she became serious again when the doors opened. Cold concrete walls and glowering correctional officers had replaced the sterile, white hospital walls and unfriendly nurses. The orderly escorted her down a long hallway before leaving her in the custody of a man in a white uniform. He glanced at her briefly as he released her arm, but turned quickly and disappeared.

The guard was a fat man whose belly nearly busted through the buttons on his uniform. Melissa had never been in jail before, but this place was just like every lockup she had seen on television. The walls and floors were all concrete except for the bars that made up the front of the tiny room. A steel toilet and little sink projected out of the back corner. The opposite corner held a bunk bolted to the wall.

Melissa swallowed when she saw how similar it was to the bed where she had fucked Thunder. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to her given that both buildings belonged to Purity Force, but it was still a jarring memory. She wished he was with her now.

The guard left her alone, and Melissa had plenty of time to think about what would happen to her. She doubted she would be allowed a phone call or a chance to speak with an attorney. These people were not the police. Purity Force was an agency committed to eradicating cyborgs by any means necessary. They didn’t care about laws or justice.

Several hours later, Director Sullivan showed up at her cell. The bars clanked closed behind him when he entered the room. “What do you think about your new accommodations?”

Melissa fought against the urge to spit in his face. If behaving herself had gotten her here, there was no telling what would happen if she caused trouble. “I think it’s cold.”

“Good,” the older man replied. “That means you can still feel things. It’s the least of your problems when you think about it. I’m sure you’ll find that your meals are sparse and lower quality compared to what you received on the first floor.” He looked into the lower corners of the room. “I don’t have any firsthand experience here, but I’ve heard rumors about rats.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Melissa shivered in the thin jumpsuit and wished she had a cup of hot tea.

“I want to make sure you cooperate with us. I’m not going to take any chances with you.” Sullivan hovered near the bars, preferring not to get too close.

She stuck out her lower lip. “I already said I would tell you everything I know.”

Sullivan shook his head. “I remember you saying that, but you haven’t given me any information I want. I need you to tell me where the cyborgs were going and what they planned to do next. We never thought we would need to track them if they turned off their biochips and lost them in the fight. I want a precise location, so we can drop a bomb and get rid of them once and for all. When this group of cyborgs is wiped off the face of the earth, my job will be much easier.”

“I already told you I don’t know where they were going. Compass never said anything to me. I thought he was going to bring me with him, but he never truly trusted me.” Melissa searched inside her memory, hoping she had a scrap of knowledge that would answer the director’s questions. She was beginning to realize the cyborgs had kept her in the dark about everything.

The older man signaled to the guard outside the bars that he was ready to leave. “I’ll leave you here so you can think about it. I’m sure something will come to you soon enough.”

Melissa had no way to tell how many days had passed. There were no windows on the underground levels of the Center for Pure Science, a name she now knew was unrelated to the actual purpose of the building. As promised, her meals came at unpredictable intervals. Melissa suspected she only got food when someone remembered about her.

Director Sullivan’s visits were different and came regularly, although she couldn’t be sure that he visited her every day. The hunger and cold left her feeling disoriented. She struggled to get her mouth and lips to form words when he asked her questions.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” He always asked her the same thing and never ran out of patience. Melissa thought he would lose his shit eventually and start screaming at her in an attempt to intimidate her into saying something more. He could have tortured her if he wanted to. Nobody would have known what he did in secret. Sullivan never came near her and chose to stay near the exit. Melissa wondered if he thought a contagious cyborg disease might infect him.

“I can’t tell you something I don’t know. Do you want me to make up information?” Melissa lay on the bed, curled into a ball with her knees touching her chest. It was the only position which allowed her to have anything resembling warmth, but it left her arms and feet exposed.

“No, I don’t.” He turned toward the bars. “I’ll see you later.”

Melissa knew Sullivan had an agenda. No one with a soul would leave her alone to starve and freeze when she hadn’t done anything wrong. But his visits had become something she looked forward to. Despite all of his faults and offensive behavior, he was someone else for her to talk with and another voice in her head beside her own. She had tried to speak with the guards several times, but they were even more stoic than the young man. They wouldn’t even look at her.

“Wait a second.”

Director Sullivan turned back, raising a single silver eyebrow.

“I might remember something.”

He held up a finger, signaling the guard to give him a moment. “What is it?”

Melissa’s teeth were chattering. “I’ll tell you, but I don’t want to do it here.”

Sullivan turned back to the gate. “I don’t negotiate with cyborg sympathizers.”

“You might if you heard what I have to say.” Melissa knew she would regret her deception later when Sullivan found out she was lying, but she was too cold and tired to worry about the future. That suffering would come later, and she could improve her situation right now.

“What do you want?”

This was her chance to get everything she could. A laundry list spilled out of her mouth. “Get me out of here. I need an insulated room that’s warm, a hot meal, and a shower.” These comforts should have been given to any human being, or even an animal, but Melissa had to strike a bargain to get them. Her lips and tongue came to life as she spoke. “I’m not saying anything else until you meet all my conditions.”

The director considered her demands, putting one hand in his pocket as he studied her. Melissa waited for Sullivan to repeat his stance against negotiation, but he nodded in the end. “I agree to your terms. But you won’t like it if your information is wrong. If that’s the case, the meal you’re requesting might be your last.”

He sent in the guards to retrieve her and Melissa willingly stood up and followed them. A quick death would be easier than spending her life in the cell, and she didn’t want to face life without Thunder. Sullivan’s agency had killed him. She had nothing to lose.