The Variables

“An unaccounted for variable?”

“Exactly.”

“Why does it matter?” Grant asked. He scratched his head and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m here. I’m alive...Huck thinks I’m a miracle. So, why does it matter why?”

Scott looked like he was about to launch into an explanation, but he stopped himself. He rubbed his temple and tilted his head toward the low-wattage lights that ran along the ceiling. “Well...the biggest issue, for me, is how many more like you must exist out there. And when Huck finds out...well...that’s not a conversation I’d like to have with him. But, also, I’m not looking into your matter entirely. There are more pressing jobs I’ve been assigned,” he answered, putting emphasis on each word.

“Okay, but you’re still messing with the virus—” Grant stopped mid-sentence. He saw the look of warning in Scott’s eyes and he froze. He sniffed and took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to be a

“Please,” Scott said kindly. “I like the company.”

“But you can’t tell me what you’re working on? That’s cool I guess.”

Scott turned back to his workstation.

Grant stepped forward. “Unless...you’re not trying to kill me again, are you?”

From behind, Grant could see Scott’s shoulders tighten and his breath caught short. But before he could respond, the door to lab swung open, and Gordy entered, whistling loudly, and wrapping his knuckles on the workbenches as he walked.

“Good news!” Gordy a

Grant had shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets and pulled one out to give an uncomfortable, but tidy wave. He felt himself blushing from embarrassment, and then he felt even hotter as he realized that he had inherited his girlfriend’s trademark response.

“I didn’t realize you were allowing company into your secure lab,” Gordy said as an indictment.

But Scott didn’t miss a beat. “My lab is always open for curious scientific minds,” he replied. Then without acknowledging Grant’s presence more than that, he looked at Gordy straight on and added, “Grant was just leaving.”

Grant sheepishly slid by Gordy and, without saying a proper goodbye to Scott, exited the lab and ventured down the hallway. Whether or not Gordy thought his boisterous a

The King apartment was empty, but it didn’t take long for him to hear the muffled conversation emanating from the conjoined wall. There was a pattern to the voices: deep and pulsating; then bright, quick and intense; followed by weepy and soft, a cooing as smooth as a lullaby. Grant left the family room, littered with Harper’s puzzles, abandoned articles of clothing and discarded books, and walked back out into the hall. He knocked tentatively on the Salvant’s apartment door. After a second, the door slid open, and Lucy peered out. Her face was red and splotchy and tear-stained. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hurried him inside.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “Cass was attacked.”

“I heard,” Grant replied.

“How did you hear?” Lucy asked. “The guards just brought her back.”

Grant shrugged. “Gordy came to get your dad...”

“Oh, wow,” Lucy breathed, understanding the implication immediately. “Come on.”

The Salvant’s living room was darker than usual; only a single lamp burned in the corner, illuminating part of the couch and the floor, and cloaking everything else in dusky darkness. Cass sat huddled against her mother, her head resting on Atabei Salvant’s shoulder, while Atabei rubbed her daughter’s arm. Maxine sat on the other side of Cass, looking all business, her mouth drawn in a tight-lipped frown.

Taking Grant’s hand, Lucy led him to a chair by the far wall. Together they sat and watched Claude, his body was still, but his eyes focused on the ceiling, then the floor, and then his daughter, in a loop.

Grant realized his arrival had effectively stopped the conversation. He looked down at the floor, away from the group, and rubbed his hand against the arm of the chair.

“Grant said that Gordy came to get Dad,” Lucy said. “They have Hunter in the tanks.”

That a

Cass sat up and looked panicked.

“That’s unacceptable,” she called to him, wiping away a tear. “No... ne les laissez pas le tuer! Please, papa. Cela ne peut pas être le seul moyen!”

Atabei put a firm hand on Cass’s shoulder, but Cass wiped it away.

“Papa,” Cass said again. Claude turned. “Vous avez le pouvoir de ...”

“You are wrong,” Claude replied in English, as he turned to go. “I support this decision. That boy attacked you. Where were our guards? I can only think of what they would have done if—” he stopped and put up his hand. “This is done, Cass. It’s done.” Then he was gone, out into the hallway, his footsteps echoing behind him.

“Mama?” Cass pleaded, getting to her feet. Grant saw now that Cass’s shirt had been torn, and it had ripped at the seam, exposing the left side of her body, and a lacy bra. He looked away. “It’s not right...”

“I’ll go after him,” Lucy said, and she stood to go, letting her hand slip from Grant’s as she began to walk across the apartment. “Maybe I can get him to see...”

Maxine’s voice was tired, but commanding. “Absolutely not, Lucy. You will let your father and Cass’s father handle this.”

Fuming, Lucy turned. “How can you say that? Our whole lives you taught us to stand up for a wrong when we saw it! You can sit there and say to me that Hunter deserves to die? That’s honestly what you think? Punished is one thing...but the tanks, mom, the tanks are awful.” Grant watched as Lucy grabbed her chest as if she was in pain.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Cass added, her voice calm and calculated, “I’d imagine that Hunter was encouraged to assault me. Planted the seed that I needed to be put in my place.” When she pointed to the door, her shirt slipped further down—she snatched it and held its loose ends tight in her hands. “Just so he could make his war a self-fulfilling prophecy. Hunter was good bait...so ripe for influence. So full of hate.” She shivered.

“And so you wish him health and happiness?” Atabei asked. “That boy was not going to settle for pawing at you, ripping your clothes. You think he would have stopped there? You wish for him to live alongside us in the new world?”

“I don’t know,” Cass whispered. “Does he deserve to die?”

“That is not the way this world works,” Maxine said. She sounded weary, but resolute.

Lucy took a step toward her own mother, “Someday I hope to wake up from this nightmare and discover that you have some master plan...either that or we have some invasion of the body snatcher’s type of experiments going on. Because you are not my mother. I don’t know who you are,” Lucy paused, suddenly full of emotion, “but when you find her, can you let her know I miss her?”

Her mother flinched. Pain flickered for just a second, and then her features hardened.

“Yes, well,” Maxine replied, her voice low. “How quickly we forget what our parents do for us.” She turned and looked at Grant, her eyes wide and flashing. “Let’s reevaluate what we’ve gained, shall we? Although you might want to consider a change of careers. Ru