The spectators in the crowd went wild as the video boxes displayed a hologram of Alex’s unbelievably rapid decent.
“I wonder what all that cheering is for?” William asked as he began to breathe heavier the longer he spoke. “Something crazy must be happening in the race.”
“I wish I knew,” Marissa responded walking a few steps in front of William.
She felt so nervous since the race began, and could barely speak since the opening pistol shot. She knew that her fiancé was in no physical or mental shape for racing.
“You think Alex is winning?” William then asked, winded by the walk.
I just hope he’s still living, Marissa lamented to herself. Why did I not insist that he couldn’t go? Why didn’t I just inject him with some sedative so that he would have been unable to race?
“Do you?” William then asked again, falling further behind Marissa as she obliviously walked ahead of him.
Though she wanted to watch the race on the video box, she knew that viewing the event live would prove much too nerve-racking for her to handle. She could barely even look at the crowd, let alone a view box. Plus, every time they cheered, she assumed it was at Alex’s expense.
Marissa was extremely grateful that Samantha provided her with an excuse not to go up into the stands and take their designated seats. Just after the race began, she contacted her and said that she needed to discuss something of the utmost importance right away.
William began to scratch his skin. All of a sudden it felt as if bugs were crawling all over his body. Though at first he just assumed that he needed a shower, he realized that he had bathed before visiting Alex last night.
“Marissa,” William then asked, trying to catch up her. She was so preoccupied that she failed to hear him. “Marissa,” he then reiterated, touching her shoulder.
Startled, she turned. The surprised look on her face made William realize that something must be awry.
“What?” he frantically blurted, expecting only to hear the worst. He began to breathe heavier and took off his cap because all of a sudden he felt claustrophobic. “What is it? Am I dying?” He began to wipe his brow. “Please tell me I’m not dying.”
“No, you’re not dying,” Marissa responded, slightly amused by this most recent fit of hypochondria, “but you do look pale. Are you feeling alright?”
“I don’t know,” he said, contemplating her question. “All of a sudden I feel hot and clammy.”
She escorted him over to a vacant bench under a nearby spruce tree. The cheers of the crowd became more distant the farther they walked away from the massive array of bleachers. Marissa then sat down next to him and felt his forehead. Without any of her medical devices with her, she could only check to see if he were febrile.
“Your temperature seems normal,” she commented. “Any other complaints.”
“Well—” William began.
“Medical?” Marissa interrupted.
“Not really. I just feel a little winded and tired. Plus—I know this is unbelievable—but I don’t have my appetite.”
Marissa pulled down one of his eyelids and gave it closer inspection. “It looks like you’re becoming anemic,” she concluded.
“It’s that thing Alex gave me!” William said. “What’d you think it was?” he asked. “Poison?”
“I don’t know,” Marissa said, unsure what to think at the moment. It seemed so irrational. First Alex injected his best friend with something that was probably making him anemic and then he was off racing without medical clearance. “How about this,” she finally concluded, “after Samantha gets here, I’ll take you directly to Neurono-Tek and check you out completely.”
William raised an amusing eyebrow.
Marissa slapped him on the shoulder.
“Did I hear my name?” a powerful voice for such a petite person echoed over the crowd noise.
Samantha then walked over to the both of them and nonchalantly placed a small patch behind each of their ears. “OK. Now we can talk.”
William sat up and began immediately picking at the patch. “First Alex poisons me and now you want to finish off the job?”
“Calm down,” she assured him in the softest voice she could muster. “It’s an audio scrambler. Alex invented these contraptions a few months ago and gave some to me in case I needed to speak in private. You know that everything we say, no matter where we are, is being recorded by The New Reality; nothing at all goes undetected by our great overlords.”
“You both remember,” she went on to say, “those hair samples we discovered on the golden crown Alex received?”
They both nodded their heads.
“You’re not going to believe what I discovered.”
She sat down next to them on the bench and got a little closer to ensure their privacy. Both William and Marissa leaned towards her, eager to her what she had to say.
“Well,” Samantha continued. “I dated the hair follicles’ age to be somewhere between 2415 and 2420 years old dating back to anywhere from 333 to 338 BC.”
Though intrigued by the information, Marissa neither understood the urgency or secrecy of this discovery.
“I then genetically analyzed the hair,” Samantha then went on to say a little softer, “and directly linked it to Alex.”
As a virologist and genetics expert, William appeared completely unimpressed by this revelation. “Well,” he commented, “1 in 200 males across the globe are directly related to Genghis Kahn, and he died in the 13th century AD. With a lineage that goes back 1500 years even before that time, a genetic connection to the Pella family would not be surprising.”
“Did I say the Pella family?” Samantha asked, annoyed by the interruption. “I said to Alex Pella.”
“I don’t understand,” Marissa asked.
“I’m glad you are both sitting,” Samantha said, “because after doing a full genetic analysis of Alex and his parents, I discovered he’s not related to them at all.”
“He’s adopted?” William said. “I’ve known him since college and he’s never mentioned anything to me about being adopted? Are you sure?”
Samantha nodded her head. “I’m completely sure. In fact, I’ve known Alex and the Pella family ever since I can remember and never knew this information until today.” She stopped talking for a moment to make sure they were still listening. “In fact, I don’t think Alex even knows.”
Marissa interjected, “Alex told me his mother always said that he was genetically special, but he never knew what she meant. This may be what she was talking about. Maybe she didn’t want him to know that he was adopted.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Samantha said, giving them both a glance. “When I said that the hair was genetically linked to Alex, I really meant directly.”
“How directly?” Marissa asked.
“One hundred percent directly,” Samantha commented. “The over 2400-year-old hair sample matched Alex’s genetic code completely. They’re identical.”
Marissa put her hand over her mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she gasped.
“I don’t know,” Samantha concluded.