1.
Gloria knew something was up as soon as she entered the dining room at home.
For one thing, her mom had made her favorite pink Jell-O salad with marshmallows and cranberry bits—a side dish usually reserved for Thanksgiving. Hardly weeknight fare. For another, her dad had put a stack of new comic books beside her plate. He hardly ever brought them home—he liked it when she came by the store and could critique the entire selection to make sure he wasn’t getting his ordering wrong. The X-Men had been the lone comic she adored, but that didn’t sell.
“What happened? Is Granny okay?” she asked.
“Granny’s fine,” her mom said from the foot of the table. “Come sit down.”
“We had a call from the school,” her father said, “and they insisted you stay, even offered scholarship money. The doctor who runs that research experiment is coming by for dinner—he’ll be here directly. He seems very impressed with you.”
Brenner at dinner at her parents’ table? After he’d sent Terry to bug them. She’d begun to hope that maybe getting out of the experiment wouldn’t be as difficult as she assumed. But whatever response she’d expected, it hadn’t been quite this personal.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, picking up the comics. “I should run these up to my room.”
Her father winked at her. “Don’t want the doctor asking you about the funny books, huh?”
“That’s right.” She waited until she got into the hallway and dragged a breath through her nose. There was a knock at the door. She didn’t want to answer it.
“Honey, can you get that?” her mom said, which wasn’t a question.
She put her precious comic books under a newspaper, smoothed her skirt, and donned a pleasant expression. Only then did she open the door.
She blinked to find Alice on the other side of it.
“Alice?”
“I’m sorry to come without calling, but I didn’t have your number and I called the shop and they said you were home already and—”
“It’s fine,” Gloria said and pulled Alice inside. “Except I just found out Dr. Brenner is coming for dinner.”
Alice looked as shocked as Gloria felt.
“My little experiment with what he’d do to keep us backfired. You should probably leave before he gets here.” Gloria frowned. “Why are you here?”
“I need to talk to you about something,” Alice said. “But you’re right, I should go.”
“Too late,” Gloria said. A shadow approached the wavy door-glass. A knock followed it. “He’s here.”
“Mom, can you set another place? My friend Alice is joining us,” Gloria called.
Her mom poked her head out into the hallway, taking in Alice’s informal attire. “Of course,” she said, as if she didn’t disapprove of women wearing pants at the table. Gloria adored her parents. She hated the idea of them being nice to Brenner.
Another knock. Gloria had no choice but to open the door.
“Hello, Dr. Brenner,” she said, pasting her smile on as firmly as possible. “Welcome to our humble home. You already know Alice, of course. She came by for…”
Gloria hadn’t thought through this sentence.
“Supper,” Alice put in. “I hear Mrs. Flowers’ cooking is legendary. And this home isn’t that humble.” When Gloria raised her eyebrows, she said, “It’s beautiful, is all I mean.”
In any other circumstance, it would have made Gloria laugh.
Dr. Brenner said, “What a pleasant surprise; not just one promising lab subject but two.”
“Right this way,” Gloria said and linked her arm through Alice’s so she wouldn’t be forced to walk alongside Brenner.
Her father stood, and the usual male handshake and friendly back-patting greeting occurred. Gloria’s mother returned with a place setting for Alice.
“We’re so happy to have you here, Dr. Brenner,” her mother said.
He nodded as if to say Of course, and didn’t even bother to get her name. Figured.
“Now,” Gloria’s father said as he motioned for everyone to be seated and serve themselves, “tell us how wonderful our Gloria is.”
“I’m so glad we won’t be losing her to California,” Dr. Brenner said, looking only at her father. “I’ve talked to the fellows there, friends of mine, and told them we must keep her here.”
Gloria heard Alice make a choking sound.
Gloria reached out and scooped a giant lump of pink salad onto her plate.
“Have some chicken, too, glorious girl,” her mom said. “And you too, Alice.”
“I’m curious, Gloria, why you considered leaving?” Dr. Brenner asked, eyes only for her now.
“I was just exploring my options.”
He nodded. “I promise you my work is the best of them.”
Brenner continued, explaining to her parents how important he was without saying much of anything.
I wanted us all to be able to leave. I figured I’d better discover if it was possible in some easier way first…
Before Terry broke into his office again looking for evidence. Those plans had seemed to stall out. Terry had been quiet after their field trip to the Brickyard, a jaunt that had proved fascinating. Gloria had Alice take her around and explain all the workings of the race cars to her, even though only a few were on hand that day. It had been the “fun activity” that Alice promised.
And that underlined how not-fun the lab was. Gloria was now at pro level of managing not to take her acid, or at least not the full dose. She pushed it into her cheek with gum and then spat it into her palm when no one was watching. Her interrogations continued and she faked being ditzy sometimes to keep it interesting. This was the opposite of science.
The things we’ve done to stop it are more scientific. Alice’s handmade electroshock machine. She’d never been more terrified of anything in her life.
Before she’d sent the current through Alice, Gloria had imagined every possibility if something went wrong and the shock hurt her. No one would believe she’d volunteered. No one would believe a girl like Alice, not formally schooled, could create such a thing. People would’ve been all too ready for the scandal of Gloria Flowers embroiled in some oddity in the woods that hurt a young woman. With an unmarried man in tow.
Sure, she’d been worried about being caught by the lab guys, but her concerns had been larger, too. Some lives were easier to ruin than others.
“Nothing’s ever going to be fair, is it?” Gloria interrupted Brenner’s oratory about his great work.
“No,” Dr. Brenner said. “The world isn’t a fair place.”
Her father’s forehead wrinkles deepened, the way they did when he gave something thought. “In this house, everything always will be that can be. But outside, no, I won’t lie to you. Dr. Brenner is correct.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” That Brenner was here at all proved it.
Her mom picked up her own fork. “I’m glad to hear that Dr. Brenner appreciates you girls, both of you.”
Gloria took a bite of pink salad.
The last thing she wanted to do was upset her parents, who’d done nothing but try to help her.
Dr. Brenner finally left, after pushing his luck for an after-dinner drink with her father. It was like having a poisonous snake in the house.
Alice hung around, and Gloria was grateful. She’d have hated to be alone with him here. She also wanted to know what Alice had come to see her about. Gloria said she was going to walk Alice out to her car.
A light drizzle of March rain fell, so they stayed on the porch while Gloria looked to make sure no strange vehicles could be seen on the street.
“He’s gone. What is it?” Gloria asked. “The reason you came, I mean? I’m sorry you had to endure that man somewhere besides the lab.”
“He really won’t let us go, will he?” Alice asked.
“Terry would say we’ll make him.”
“Terry’s why I’m here,” Alice said. “It’s about the future. I’ve seen her in it…It’s not good and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know whether to tell her or not.”
Gloria didn’t want to know any more awful secrets. But sometimes that was what having friends meant.
“Tell me,” she said.
2.
Terry checked again in the slender dorm room mirror that she’d put her shirt on right-side-out. Yesterday it had been lunch before a kind stranger pulled her aside and touched the tag on the back of her peasant blouse’s neck. She’d gone into the nearest bathroom and taken it off, cringing at the deodorant stains revealed by the correction until she could dash back to the dorm and change.
Yes, today her shirt was on right. A pretty paisley pattern Andrew had once told her made her look like a painting. A skirt that was a little snug. She’d been starving lately, but had barely gained a pound. Her body was changing its weight distribution somehow, though.
She assumed this was one of the side effects Brenner had warned her of. She wasn’t going to ask him about it.
Terry checked her makeup. After that, her hair. She peered out the dorm window again.
She had never been nervous about Andrew. Possibly the only boy she’d ever liked—definitely the only one she’d ever loved—that she felt instantly comfortable with and about. He was so straightforward. Andrew said what he meant. He might change his mind, but he’d tell you that, too.
His emerald green Barracuda pulled into the lot below and she rushed to get her big bag together, Polaroid camera tucked inside, and dashed out. She stopped in the hallway. Did she lock the door?
Who cares?
She rushed down the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator, and by the time she got to the lobby doors Andrew was approaching them. She bolted forward with a push that swung the doors out and then launched herself at him.
Andrew started to laugh and caught her. “Babe!” He held her and they rocked back and forth. “I guess I don’t have to worry that you’re not happy to see me.”
Go to Canada. Never leave. Stay here always, with me.
“I don’t want it going to your head so maybe I should play it cool,” she said without loosening her hold on him.
“Never play it cool.”
“I don’t think it’s even an option.” She pushed back so she could look at him. Really look.
Now he was the shyly self-conscious, anxious one. He stood under her gaze but so uncomfortably. His hair was clipped short, almost to the scalp. No more parentheses. But he was no less dangerous to her.
He owned her heart.
“I like it.” She reached out and ran her fingers across his scalp, the short hair soft against her palm. “Ooh, I really like it. This is very soothing and calming.”
“Stop it, I feel like a piece of meat,” Andrew said, but he smiled and relaxed.
“Speaking of…Do we have somewhere we can be alone?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes, Dave has given us run of the apartment. He’s coming back for a beer around five o’clock.”
Terry grabbed his hand and towed him behind her. “Let’s go then. We don’t have time to burn.”
“It feels like a shame to waste your favorite top,” he protested.
“It’s your favorite top,” Terry said and winked at him. “That’s why I wore it.”
“Oh, well, in that case.”
No mention yet of the fact he deployed next week. But there was no need. It hung between them, the unsaid fact about to ruin everything.
Andrew wrapped himself around Terry’s back and they snuggled and it was almost normal.
But the sheets on the bed weren’t Andrew’s soft cotton sheets. They were Dave’s, maroon satin, and even though she could smell that they’d been freshly washed and put on, they were wrong.
Andrew’s room belonged to Michael now. Michael had been with Dave and Andrew in Halloween masks to protest Nixon’s speech. Just like Dave, he would not be in Vietnam next week. Dave and Michael still had student deferments on their side, and, even after graduation, their draft numbers had been so late in the drawing that the chances of either of them getting called up were slim. Nothing was fair.
The sheets were different. The room was different. Everything was different except the two of them.
But even they didn’t feel quite the same. Already.
“Terry,” Andrew said, and she tensed. He called her “babe” almost always. “Terry” was for when he was talking about her to other people.
“Andrew.” She wasn’t going to make it easy. She rolled over to face him.
“You know I love you.”
“And you know I love you.” She memorized the fringe of his eyelashes. The different angles of his face with his short haircut. Not enough time. Not enough time…
“I want you to be you, without me like a shackle around your foot.” Andrew rushed the words out in a way that made her know he’d rehearsed them.
“Andrew Rich,” Terry said, pretending it didn’t hurt. She propped herself up on an elbow. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.”
“I’m not,” Andrew said. “But…”
“But?” Terry stayed where she was. No way this would be easy for either of them.
“But I don’t know if I can do what I have to, not if I know you’re definitely here waiting for me. I won’t be able to think of anything but you.”
Terry didn’t even know what he meant. “Good. Good, you can think about coming home to me, about our future together.”
Andrew sighed and rolled onto his back. “I knew you’d be like this.”
“How did you want me to be?” Terry focused on the poster for The Who on Dave’s wall.
Andrew pulled the covers over his head. “I don’t know. Don’t listen to me. I’m trying to pretend I’m not freaking out, but I am.”
Now this was Terry’s Andrew. This she understood. Honesty.
“Sam, it’s okay,” she said, tugging the covers down. “You’re going to Mount Doom. No one knows what’s going to happen to you there.”
“I know that the Enemy isn’t there.” Andrew turned his head to look at her, though.
Terry nodded to him. “That’s right. We all know that. You’re a good man to go.”
“Am I?”
“You’re a good man.” She would not cry. She would be strong—stronger than she knew she could. Ken had predicted it. “I’m not letting you break up with me. This is…It’s my fault. Dr. Brenner arranged this somehow. I didn’t want to tell you but…”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. It’s my fault. I think he did this to you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Andrew was quiet for a moment. He leaned forward and kissed her lips so softly she barely felt it. “It’s not your fault. If he did or didn’t, who can say? It might have happened anyway.”
She couldn’t manage to speak. She nodded.
“And this is not a breakup,” he went on. “It’s your freedom. I want you to not be waiting around for me, not if something else comes up. I can’t do what I have to do thinking I’m holding you back. I don’t want that. So we take a break while I’m gone…I won’t stop loving you. And I hope I will come home and we will be together.”
Terry wanted to say, You will. We will. That’s not necessary.
But she couldn’t promise that. She didn’t see the future. No one saw the future for soldiers. Or if they did, they didn’t talk about it. Too often it was something no one wanted to see. He’d obviously practiced that little speech.
Terry sighed. “If that’s what you need, that’s what we’ll do.”
Andrew exhaled. He lay back as if in utter relief.
Terry jumped out of bed and rummaged in her bag for the camera.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Mind out of the gutter,” she said. “I just want a portrait to remember us by.”
“Oh,” he said. “But won’t we need someone else to take it?”
Terry shook her head. “No, long arms. You hold one side, I’ll hold the other, and then I’ll reach up and push the button. I’ll put it in position.”
Alice had been the genius who came up with the idea you could take pictures of yourself with the camera. It would never have occurred to Terry to try.
She put her knee on the bed and looked through the viewfinder—the short hair was nice—and when she was happy with the angle, she waved for him to lift his hand. He held it as she dropped next to him, her palm cupping the other side. She snuggled in close so both their heads would be in the shot.
“Smile,” she said, and then reached up to hit the button.
“Wait!” she said when he began to lower the camera. Polaroid film was expensive but this was important. She leaned up to grab the print as it came out the front.
“This should be part of basic training,” Andrew said, as if holding his arm up was killing him.
“One more for me,” she said and lay back down. She turned her face to kiss his cheek and felt his grin widen. She reached up and pushed the button. Another whir, another photo dispensed.
He dropped the camera to Terry’s side, where it lightly bounced on the mattress. They cuddled closer and waved their photos, waiting for them to develop.
Terry wished there was a trick that would allow her to take a photo of this moment and stay in it until nothing stood in the way of a million more moments like it.
Andrew drove her back to the dorm in his Barracuda, and he didn’t even bother turning on the radio. He planned to drop her off and then return for that last beer with Dave. But when he pulled up in front of the building, he lingered. He picked up his Polaroid from the dash and looked at it. Both of them grinned out of it, Terry slightly forward as she leaned up to push the button.
“Thank you,” Andrew said. “For this.”
“Thank you, babe,” Terry replied.
She’d cry later. Not now.
I wish you could stay. Don’t go. I feel like there’s more to say but I don’t want to say it because then it’s like admitting I’ll never see you again.
Andrew set the photo back down. He took her hands in his. “I want you to be well. Take down your lab asshole. Look out for kid sister.”
Terry had to smile at that, but it almost forced the tears out. “Working on it. I swear.”
“You got this. I wouldn’t go up against you.”
“Well, you’re not a monster.”
Andrew still didn’t know the full truth of Alice’s monsters and when they were from. Terry wouldn’t bring up the future, not now. She’d bring it up when he came back. When they had a future in front of them.
“I better get going. You avoid unnecessary monsters,” Andrew said. “And write me sometimes.”
“Back at you.”
And Terry kissed him, not knowing if it was the last time or not.
3.
Ken wasn’t foolish enough to arrange a meeting at Terry’s diner, where someone might recognize him as her friend and mention it to her. Instead he met Andrew at a campus greasy spoon with the best black coffee the area had to offer. That he added three sugar cubes scandalized the waitstaff. But he liked his coffee how he liked his coffee.
Andrew dropped into the booth opposite him and dragged a hand over his buzz cut. Ken recognized the gesture from the last time he’d gone from long to short—years ago now—and kept searching for his missing locks whenever he was stressed-out.
“Man, you better be right,” Andrew said. “That was tough.”
“She’s going to have a hard enough time.” Ken didn’t know the specifics. In fact, he kept feeling lost at sea where Terry was concerned. He got waves of certainty that she was strong and getting stronger, but the picture was incomplete. It frustrated him and he wasn’t sure he’d made the right call contacting Andrew and advising him to break things off while he was gone. “Like I said, she’s been struggling, and it could put all of us in more danger.”
“She would hate you going behind her back.”
“I know.” Ken sighed. “I’m not supposed to meddle in big things. I think I told you, my mom taught me that when I was a kid.”
Andrew waved over the waitress.
“What do you want, hon?” she asked, chewing gum all the while.
Andrew hesitated. “A chocolate milkshake.”
When she left with a nod, he said, “May as well live it up.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “As far as meddling goes…These are small things, aren’t they? Our lives. That’s the whole point. We’re all disposable.”
Ken didn’t agree. And…“You better not say things like that over there.”
“Pretty sure I won’t be alone.”
Ken had a moment of weird transference looking at Andrew then. It could just as easily have been himself going overseas—still could, if the war was still going on when he graduated. His draft number was relatively high, so he was safe for now. He wondered what being in the military would be like for him. Not good, he imagined. Or good as long as he kept to himself, kept his secrets. He was used to that, but it didn’t mean he liked it.
“No one’s disposable,” Ken said. “People make that mistake all the time.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Andrew drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “What’s your deal anyway? The psychic thing is real?”
Ken stared out the diner window for a few breaths, waiting for a feeling to come. Should he answer? Should he be honest?
You can trust this man, like you trust Terry.
Okay then.
“My family always believed in this stuff, and it feels real to me. That’s what I can tell you. I’ve lived life negotiating these feelings about what might happen.” Ken sipped his coffee and replaced the cup on the table. He rotated it nervously. “And I always thought family protected family, but now I think we choose who we protect.”
“What changed?” Andrew seemed genuinely interested.
“My family treated me as disposable.” Ken smoothed his hands on his jeans. He hardly ever talked about this, almost never. His palms were sweating. “They were okay with one kind of different, the kind they understand, but not another.”
Andrew shook his head, and Ken could tell he didn’t fully get it yet. “I’m so sorry,” Andrew offered. “Mine’s been there for me, even though they think I was an idiot. That must hurt.”
“It did. Less now,” Ken said. He gave a sad smile. “Well, as long as I don’t think about it.”
“What happened?” Andrew asked.
People never understood that being psychic didn’t mean you were right all the time. It didn’t mean Ken had all the answers. It didn’t mean he never messed up. People could disappoint him, just like anyone else. But he might as well keep being honest.
“I told them I was dating a guy—we broke up, afterward, but I know I fall in love someday. And that will be with a man, too. I think I meet the person I fall in love with at Hawkins.”
“I had no idea. I mean, I’d never have known…” Andrew had a panicked air about him.
“I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”
“I’m being an asshole,” Andrew said. “What I mean is that’s fucked up, to lose family over who you love. I’m sorry, brother.” He smiled. “Is that why you’re really at Hawkins then, doing all this? To meet your guy?”
Ken smiled back. When trust worked out, there wasn’t a better feeling. “That, and what I told Terry and the others. I do think we’re all important to each other. It was something I knew I had to do.” A pause. “But it doesn’t hurt to be looking for Mr. Right.”
“No candidates yet, I take it?”
“Slim pickings. But I’ll know,” Ken said. “At least I hope I will.”
The waitress returned with Andrew’s milkshake, tall and foamy and delicious-looking.
“Thanks,” Andrew told her.
“Hey, have you ever dipped French fries in your chocolate shake?” Ken asked him.
“No,” Andrew said. “What wizardry is this?”
“You haven’t lived,” Ken said. He waved the waitress back over and ordered some fries. “How’d Terry take it?” he asked when she’d bustled away.
Andrew gave a half smile. “She didn’t make it easy.”
“No shocker there.”
Andrew hesitated. “I don’t want to know about me, but Terry—will she be okay?”
“I don’t know,” Ken said. “About either of you. That’s the reason I called you. I just…felt like things might be better for her if you were on a break while you’re gone. I can’t explain it any more than that.”
The French fries arrived. Andrew picked up a fry, his wince proving how hot it was. He dipped it in the milkshake and took a bite. “That’s amazing. Hot and cold, salty and sweet.”
Ken reached across the table for a fry, too. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she’s okay. Good enough?”
“No,” Andrew said, pressing the plate to the middle of the table and scooting his milkshake forward. “But you can’t always get what you want.”
The wisdom of the Rolling Stones. Ken replied in kind. “Sometimes you can’t even get what you need.”
4.
Terry was like a sleepwalker suddenly woken up. The world felt strange, but also not so far away as it had the past few weeks. Even at the Hawkins lab. Telling Andrew she felt like his going was her fault had lifted away guilt she hadn’t even realized she was carting around with her.
Dr. Brenner entered the room and sat a small cup of pills on the table beside her, along with another cup filled with liquid. “Vitamins,” he said. “I can tell you aren’t taking the ones I sent home. That’s water.”
She sipped the water with care until she was pretty sure it was only water. Then she threw back the vitamins despite…
“No, I haven’t been taking them. But something you’re giving me is messing up my metabolism, my weight,” she said.
“Your boyfriend complaining?” he asked.
She didn’t have a boyfriend anymore, not technically. She’d survived the goodbye. She still said a prayer for Andrew that morning and would again that night. Her worry for him was a constant. She no longer burst into tears at every sappy song on the radio. Was this what “carrying on” felt like? She didn’t like it, but it was better than the misery of waiting for a shoe to drop. Better than having kept a big secret from him.
She still chose to ignore Brenner’s question. “What’s causing it?”
He studied her, moving in with that stethoscope, and somehow she kept from flinching when he pressed it against her chest. The cold metal a sting against her skin through the gown. He shifted it down to listen to her belly.
“You look alert. More than you have recently.”
She’d warned the others, with a quiet signal on the van to the lab, that she intended to try again to talk with Kali. Would the girl finally show up in the void? They were running out of good options.
“You’re feeling better today?” Brenner prodded.
“I feel good today.” A grudging admission.
“That’s what we give you working.” He said it in a way that made it clear he did not expect her to challenge the statement.
“Or not.”
He gave her a long look. “Miss Ives, if you can’t do what’s best for you, then…”
Oh, she wanted to push back harder. She wanted to demand he finish that sentence, which sounded an awful lot like the beginning of a threat. But.
She remembered how he’d shown up at Gloria’s, how rattled she’d been when she told Terry about his visit. He’d charmed her parents. They had to play this cautiously.
“I took the vitamins,” she said. “You just saw me.”
“Good,” he said. “Now this.”
A small tab of acid appeared between his fingers and she plucked it away.
Terry placed the hit on her tongue and, ignoring Brenner’s presence, closed her eyes to wait. She didn’t open them even when she heard someone come in. The orderly joining them, no doubt. She recalled that first day here, watching the heart monitor, and conjured that red line—spike, spike, then steady, steady—in her mind.
Before long, or so it seemed, she went deeper. The water rippled around her feet, the void around her.
She waited. She felt strong, awake.
Kali’s arms were crossed in front of her when she strode out of the darkness.
Terry almost fell to her knees in relief.
“I couldn’t come,” Kali said. “I was too sleepy. I’m not sure these are dreams.”
“Were you sick?”
“I felt sick. Papa came to see me every day,” Kali said. “I hope Alice isn’t sad I haven’t visited her. I promised Papa I’d be a good girl.”
Terry’s heart spiked. She forced it to calm. “He doesn’t know you met Alice, though?”
Kali shook her head no.
“Do you think you can still manage to distract him? It won’t get you in trouble, will it?”
Kali tilted her head and considered. “It needs to make him come see me, you said?”
“Whatever you did the other day worked out great. I just need some time alone.”
“He got mad about that one, but I have another idea,” Kali announced. And then she disappeared.
Back in the lab, Terry opened her eyes and pretended to stretch and yawn. “I may lay down,” she said. “Not feeling so good after all.”
Brenner lifted his hand in the general direction of the cot. Was it possible to be sarcastic without saying a word? If so, he’d mastered the art.
Terry shuffled over, acting as tired as she possibly could. She poured herself onto the thin mattress and rolled onto her side with her arms up to cover her face.
The PA speaker mounted high on the wall crackled. “We have a ‘Code Indigo,’ ” said a man’s voice. “Paging Dr. Brenner to wing G for a ‘Code Indigo.’ ”
Dr. Brenner’s face tightened with what looked like rage. His body was drawn like a bow as he started forward. Terry swung her feet around, disconcerted.
“What’s happening?” she asked, innocently. She worried about that expression and Kali.
“None of your concern.” He waved for the orderly to follow him into the hall as the PA repeated its summoning.
Terry went to the window and looked out into the hall. She couldn’t allow Kali’s effort to go to waste. She waited until they were out of sight, then slung her bag over her shoulder and darted into the hallway. This time, she didn’t make any wrong turns.
The new code Alice had memorized worked like a charm, letting her bypass the keypad on her way to Dr. Brenner’s office. There was a disturbance up the hall that went to Kali’s room—shouting voices and Brenner’s commanding tone. Terry looked, expecting to see people and instead found a wall of flames that looked real but couldn’t be. There was no heat.
Kali was making an illusion for her distraction.
Terry hurried forward. They must have security cameras everywhere. Her only hope was that they didn’t review the footage as aggressively as they should. She let herself into Brenner’s office and took one moment for a deep victory breath.
Not victorious yet.
“Right,” she murmured. She set her bag on a chair, pulled out the tidy black and gray camera, and placed it on Dr. Brenner’s desk. Wait a second.
The photographs needed context.
She circled the desk to take a picture of the nameplate. DR. MARTIN BRENNER. Mentally she added: evil genius. The camera whirred and spat the photo out the front.
In this silent room, the noise echoed…she prayed it was only in her head, the acid talking. She placed the picture on the desk, starting a stack. Only seven left until she ran out of film.
She placed the camera on Brenner’s desk and went to the file cabinet. I should’ve looked at a clock so I’d know how long I’ve been gone.
Followed by: Too late now.
Yanking open a drawer, she paged through in search of the children’s folders. The ones with PROJECT INDIGO typed at the top.
Bingo.
She shuffled through until she found what must be Kali’s. 008. Five years old. She skimmed the contents, a narrative of experiments and findings: Child shows gifts that require isolation from those who might weaken her…Constantly asks for family and to be called by given name…Has stopped asking for her mother…Sustained a believable illusion of an ocean for five minutes, but without exercising control. Potential growing by the day…
Terry selected two pages and photographed them, one after the other, with more echoing whirs. She confirmed the files ended with 010, not 011. Then she took another photograph of the row of documents, in case she could convince a reporter to look into this.
But what about their experiment?
She tried another drawer and saw PROJECT MKULTRA along the tops of these folders. Was this it? Flipping a file open, she realized it was hers.
You need Alice’s.
She dropped hers back in and flicked through the rest. Alice Johnson…There was one sheet that just recorded acid and electroshock dosages and dates. A narrative from Dr. Parks that started with: It’s impossible to say if the electroshock yields results or traumatizes the patient…
Brenner had initialed a handwritten note that said: Increasing the wattage should clarify…
Terry photographed that page. She checked the next one and it was a memorandum setting out a proposal for the MKULTRA experiment subjects to reside at the lab. A stamp on it said PENDING. NEEDS FURTHER STUDY.
That can’t happen.
Too much time had passed. She had to go.
She tucked the Polaroids into her purse, and the camera, too. She hung the strap over her shoulder and practiced the stoned lie she would tell about following Dr. Brenner into the hallway and then wondering if he might be in his office.
The disruption in the hallway was gone, all quiet there.
She made it all the way back to her room unnoticed. Or uninterrupted, at least.
She didn’t feel as strong anymore, but still better than she had been. Should she go to Kali’s room? She should. The girl might be in trouble. That Brenner hadn’t come back couldn’t mean anything good.
Terry couldn’t allow anything to happen to her because of this. So she stepped back out into the hallway, shadows at the edge of her vision as she got more paranoid. But, again, no one stopped her. She saw not a soul on the way.
When she reached Kali’s room, Dr. Brenner stood outside it, waiting. “I’ve seen you now,” he said. “There’s no point in turning around, Miss Ives. You want to check on her. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
Terry didn’t understand what was happening. But she opened the door to Kali’s room anyway, needing to see her.
Kali reclined on the top bunk, crying as she fisted her hands in the sheets. She was bathed in sweat. Even from here, Terry could see it had soaked through her gown.
“Kali, are you okay?” Terry asked.
“Will you get in the bottom bunk?” the girl asked, coughing a sob.
Terry nervously looked to Dr. Brenner, who’d followed her inside. He raised his eyebrows. “It’s fine with me.”
This was the opposite of anything she should do. She should run. She’d gotten evidence. But abandoning Kali before ensuring she’d be all right wasn’t an option.
She climbed onto the bunk and stared up at the bottom of the mattress above her, the wood beams holding it in place. Desperately she wished for the void, to be able to have a hidden conversation with the little girl.
“I told him,” Kali said, “that we talked.”
Too late for privacy then. Terry wanted to look at Brenner, gauge his reaction. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
But when he moved, off to the side, she turned her head and got out of the bunk. Afraid…of what? She didn’t know.
He’d only leaned back against the wall.
His smirk told her he knew he’d won that point. Terry looked over at Kali.
“What did you tell him?” Alice’s face hovered in Terry’s mind. If he knew about her visions of the future, there’d be no stopping him…
“She told me the truth,” Dr. Brenner said. “That you asked her to distract me.”
Terry’s pulse pounded like a drumbeat.
“She told you that I…I…,” Terry stammered. Fear kept her rooted in place. She hated being afraid of this man. He didn’t deserve it. But how could she not be? Did he know about the void? “I don’t…”
“We don’t lie to Papa,” Kali said softly. Kali turned her head to Terry and, as Brenner watched Terry, lifted her finger to her trembling lips in the symbol for keeping a secret. He didn’t know, then. “He always finds out.”
Dr. Brenner took a step closer to the bunks, turning his attention back to Kali. “That’s right.”
He clapped his hands together. He was smiling. “I can’t wait to see how you perform next month. I suspected as much, but today’s conflagration confirms it. You are getting stronger. Very promising.”
Funny. That wasn’t how Terry would describe this feeling.
“What’s next month?” she asked, proud of how steady her voice stayed.
“A surprise for Kali,” Dr. Brenner said. “And for you.”
Terry closed her eyes. You bastard.
5.
Dr. Brenner escorted her back to her room. The orderly had deposited the contents of her bag on a table, including the camera and the Polaroids from his office. Oh, and the giant sanitary pad and belt she always kept on hand these days.
“Have you been menstruating regularly?” Brenner asked.
“God, buy a girl dinner first,” Terry spit out. Her cheeks flamed. This was not exactly a usual topic of conversation.
“Have you?”
“Yes, not that it’s your business.”
“I’m just checking for side effects from your medication. Is it once monthly?”
He waited, eyes lasering into her.
“No, actually. On and off,” Terry said, cheeks still burning. “Constantly. That’s why I have that in my purse. You may not know this, but spotting happens to lots of women. Especially when we have stress. Would you like to hear more? I have so much to say about cramps.”
Brenner coolly picked up the stack of Polaroids, unbothered by her trying to embarrass him the way he had her. He went through the photos with slow deliberation, considering each.
“I’ll keep this one,” he said, showing the one of the nameplate on his desk. He replaced the rest of the stack. “You can have the rest. It’s impossible to make any but stray words out. Sorry your plan didn’t work out. Better luck next time…Except there had best not be one.”
Terry still felt the effects of the LSD like the room was vibrating. “Are we done?”
“Almost.” Dr. Brenner watched her. “Terry, you and your friends are part of very important research. As is Kali. I know it may seem cruel to you, but it’s very humane. Other countries do much, much worse in their quest to expand the bounds of human knowledge.”
Shadows appeared around him. Or maybe the acid just let her see them. Maybe Dr. Brenner always walked ringed in shadows, like a Black Rider galloping off the pages of her book.
Terry couldn’t pretend not to see what he was. “Really? Do they keep a five-year-old girl isolated from other children for purity’s sake? Do they have children living in cells in a place like this? In hospital gowns? Shut off from the world and what being a kid is?”
“Those children might be the only advantage we have.” He went silent for a moment. When he spoke, he wore a faint smile. “In a recent intelligence update, I was told that the Russians have developed a theory that mothers and their children have a mental link with each other. Do you know how they tested this theory? They bred rabbits, and then they put the mothers and their offspring in different rooms and killed the babies to see if the mother felt it.”
“God.” Terry’s stomach turned. Visions of dying bunnies bounced around in her head. Bop-Bop. Bop. “I think you should go. This trip is getting too intense.”
She picked up the Polaroids where he’d set them down and took them with her to the cot.
Brenner stayed where he was. “I will see you next week, Miss Ives. You don’t want to test my limits to hunt you down and bring you back.” He paused. “But oh, maybe you’re like the mother rabbit in this scenario…I know you’ll be back, because you won’t risk me punishing a child in your place.”
Terry refused to tell him he was right. He obviously knew it. “I said you can go,” she said.
Once he did, she flipped through each shot she’d taken on her precious Polaroid film. Blurry names and text that would be meaningless to anyone who hadn’t seen the full document. She’d ended up with nothing…
Except getting caught.
6.
There were men who considered themselves above Dr. Brenner, but who he privately thought of as his backers, his financiers, those he gave reports to rather than reported to…A crucial distinction.
The way to do great work was to do your own work. Once you started following someone else’s whims and compass, rot set in. Luckily for him, most of the crucial powerbrokers whose support he needed had rotted from the inside out long ago. Manipulating them was simple enough. People could lose the courage of their convictions so easily.
However…
The grousing security officer had raised some eyebrows after his reassignment, despite his admission he couldn’t bug a private garage. Several of the men wanted an update on the progress being made now that Brenner had been on the ground here for months.
And so he would extend an invitation for a demonstration to the director’s office. Kali would put on quite the show. She’d do anything to make him happy now, having been caught colluding with Terry Ives.
He kept waiting for the woman to realize the truth about her condition.
If Terry had designs that she might slip from under his thumb, well, surely she’d realize that wasn’t going to happen. Not with such valuable cargo.
7.
Terry wasn’t willing to give up. Brenner finding out she was searching for documents was bad. But on the van ride home, she had an idea.
So what if she didn’t have documentation yet? If her Polaroids were a bust? She could still invite someone to come investigate. They had to expose him to get Kali out. Brenner wasn’t the only one who could plan surprises.
When she got to the dorm, she asked for the phone book from the front desk and flipped to the section for the town closest to Hawkins. There, she found the name of a decent-sized newspaper and its phone number.
Then she waited in line behind the usual girls making their nightly calls to their boyfriends back home. Her fingers ached with anticipation as she guided the spiral dial around to each number, and then finally it began to ring.
“Newsroom,” a man answered, mid-yawn, three rings in.
“I— We wanted to give you a story idea,” Terry said. “I think it’d make a great piece. We have a brand-new director here at the Hawkins National Laboratory, with a history full of accolades. He’s working on some exciting, classified things…”
“Hawkins has a lab now?” the man asked.
“You won’t believe it.” Terry wound the cord around her hand and tried to keep from overselling what a great story this would be. The reporter was busy for the next two Thursdays. But the third Thursday? Sure, he’d be happy to come and meet this Dr. Martin Brenner, see what was going on next door.
Terry hung up with a grim smile on her lips.