Chapter eighteen
V I V I A N
Rob stares at us, but he's not angry.
At first, he only has one word for us. “Dara.”
Janelle growls. “You want to talk to her, then talk. Please,” she adds, her impatient tone not changing. “We don't have all day.”
Rob wraps his fingers around the cell bars and looks at me, saying, “You killed my father.”
I want to snort with laughter. He has repeated this so many times, and I just don’t understand why he won't stop.
Janelle hisses, “Listen Robin, if that’s all you want to tell her, then this is a waste of my time. Of our time.” She points a finger to herself.
Rob glares at me, but I feel no fear. There are bars in front of him, and he has no weapons.
“That’s not it,” he says. “She has to see the proof with her own eyes.”
Janelle puts a hand on my shoulder. I shift my foot. “She doesn’t have to see anything,” she says. “The past is the past. She has to let it—”
“Stop,” I cut in, brushing Janelle’s arm away. “I actually want to see it.”
Janelle doesn’t look away from me as she says, “Your stomach is too weak to handle this.”
I don’t know if it is or not. In answer, I shrug. “So you still have the proof? A video?” I ask.
Janelle's gaze shifts over to Rob. “Um...no. No, of course not.”
Oh, really? I know she’s lying. She just doesn’t want me to see it.
Rob doesn’t play along with Janelle. “They keep most of the records in an employees only room,” he says. “Trusted workers with access.”
Janelle pounds her fist on the cell’s bars and a loud bang rings throughout the room. I jump in surprise, then grimace. That must have hurt.
Most of the people here have turned their eyes on us. They have stopped talking to listen to our conversation.
“You’re not allowed to enter that room,” Janelle tells me. “Amateurs like you could tear the whole place apart as soon as you step in. We don’t need that.”
“I thought you just said you don’t have the proof,” I say.
Janelle’s voice turns cold. “I lied, and I’m not giving you permission to access it.”
“But I’d like to see it,” I say. I turn to Rob. “Where is it?” I ask him.
“Ms. Vivian,” Janelle says. “When something is classified, you are expected to stay away from it, don’t you understand that? Now, Robin...will that be all of our precious time you will waste?”
“No, Dara,” Rob says. “Look, just show her the proof so she’ll know what she did. You can’t hide it forever.”
“We can if we want to,” Janelle says firmly. “People should be ridden of their past lives in their new world. Whatever Jack has told you about your past,” she tells me, “is all you should know.”
Rob focuses back on me. “My mother wanted me to avenge my father’s death once she heard the murderer was living here.” He pauses as if deciding if he should say the next thing. He shakes his head snorts quietly. “I was actually willing to kill you. Now it seems like a stupid idea.”
Janelle crosses her arms. “Maybe it’s because you’re behind bars and you can’t do anything. We’re still not letting you out.”
Rob looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh and looks up. “Dara—”
A male voice from one of the cells cuts him off. “They’re not letting you out, you dimwit.” Most of the room is still silent and everyone continues to watch us.
“They should,” Rob says. “I’ve been living here for thirty years. I’m a scientist—”
“Right,” the same voice says. I don’t know which cell it’s coming from. “You’re a scientist.”
Rob grits his teeth and slams a hand on the bars.
Damn. He’s just like Janelle. Doesn’t he know it’s painful? He doesn’t show any pain, though.
“I designed a heart,” he nearly yells. “Wouldn’t you call me a scientist?”
"Calm down." Janelle mutters.
I could say the same thing to her. She punched the cell too.
Rob doesn't listen to her. "Wouldn't you?" he says to the spot the male voice is coming from.
"No," the voice answers. "No, I wouldn't. More like an engineer. Hell, maybe even a random human being they asked to help."
Are they really arguing about what Rob's position here is? Is that all Rob wants to tell me? You killed my father, now go see the proof?
Janelle's thinking the same thing. She pulls in a breath. "Robin, if that will be all, I think we're heading out."
She's about to turn toward the door when Rob says, "Show her the proof of the murder, Dara. That's all I need you to do. Do it."
Rob barely even knew his father, right? He was only like what, a year old when his father died?
I still can't believe I actually have blood on my hands from so long ago. How am I capable of killing anyone? I need to see this proof. I need to see what I've done.
Janelle sighs. "Be glad your mother is not locked up like you. But if she ever tries anything, we will be sure to lock her up."
If she tries anything? She's alive?
"Wait," I say, holding up a finger. "She's here? In this building?"
Janelle gives a small nod. "Alive and breathing."
"How old?"
"Fifty-seven," Rob says.
My mouth opens, but I shut it.
What if Rob's mother wants to finish what her son failed to do?
"D-does she know how I look like?" I ask, clasping my hands nervously in front of me.
"She's seen pictures of your face."
I swallow and stare at a bar of a cell.
"She won't come after you," Janelle tries to reassure me. "We'll keep an eye on her.”
I shake my head, not because I'm disagreeing with Janelle (which I'm not), but because I think this is ridiculous. There are two people who want to kill me now because of a crime I’m not even sure I committed.
If Mr. Welds said I did murder Thomas Garmin, then it might actually be true. But I can't really grasp that idea. Me? Killing a person?
"Show it to her and I'll leave you alone," Rob says to Janelle. "You won't hear from me again."
I don't know what he means by that. Is he going to stop trying to avenge his father’s death?
Janelle sighs, "Robin, I don't see how letting her see an assassination will do anything for us."
It will do something for me. I'd get to see myself...murdering someone. How did I do it?
“I want her to see it—” Rob stops when Janelle grabs my arm. She starts pulling me toward the door, but Mr. Welds is already standing there.
When did he get here? Janelle seems startled to see him here too because she lets go of my arm and freezes. Rob has gone silent.
"Is that all?" Mr. Welds asks, arching his eyebrows. "Was it anything important?"
Janelle seems like she's in a hurry to get out of here. She starts shaking her head even before Mr. Welds has finished speaking. “How long have you been standing here?” she asks.
Mr. Welds glances at his wrist, pulling his sleeve back a little to reveal a thin, white watch. He inspects it for a few seconds before saying, "Not too long. I stepped inside here a few seconds ago." He opens the door and waits until Janelle and I walk through the open doorway and into the vast hallway.
"Mr. Welds?" I ask as soon as he closes the door behind him.
"Yes, Ms. Clancy?"
“Could I get—?”
Janelle grabs my arm. “Vivian, your question may not be that important. Please be quiet while we walk.”
I want to get permission to see the video of me murdering Rob's father. How is that not important? She just doesn't want me to see it, that's all. That let go of the past and start over nonsense is what's in her head right now.
I decide not to continue my question, but Mr. Welds asks, “Pardon, Ms. Clancy? Could you get what?”
>
“Sir, are we headed back to Fox and Rian?” Janelle quickly cuts in, brushing the sleeves of her white lab coat.
Mr. Welds nods. “Yes. We have to perform a short test before the mission. I was thinking maybe it’ll be a good idea to do that a couple of days before the launch of the project.” He turns to me. “Ms. Clancy, what were you saying?”
I open my mouth to ask a question, but Janelle beats me to it. “Sir, have you revealed all of the information about the suits?”
Janelle keeps distracting Mr. Welds from whatever I want to ask. Why can’t she just let me ask the stupid question?
Mr. Welds shakes his head slowly. “Not everything, Dr. Janelle,” he says. “I don’t really think they want to know every detail of the suits’ creation. We didn’t tell you about the glass, Ms. Clancy, did we?”
Janelle just succeeded in changing the subject. How should I congratulate her?
“What glass?” I ask.
“Then we didn’t,” Mr. Welds says. “You remember the self-mending glass you said you saw?”
“Yes.”
“We have improved it to used it on the suits to cover the face.”
I nod, that question I want to ask still on my mind.
“Ms. Clancy, what was it that you had your mind—?”
“Sir,” Janelle interrupts. “Sir, why won’t you use regular glass? Why use glass that heals?”
I blow air through my nose and look away, absolutely certain of what she's trying to do.
Mr. Welds' eyebrows knit together. “Dr. Janelle, why exactly would you ask that? Don’t you already know?”
“Sorry, sir,” she mumbles. “Just thought Vivian should know.”
“If Vivian has interest in this, she would have asked me herself. Please, Dr. Janelle, stop interrupting Ms. Clancy. She has a question.”
Janelle purses her lips and slows down so she's walking behind us.
“Ask away, Ms. Clancy,” Mr. Welds says.
I scratch behind my head and wonder if I should ask or not.
I make my decision.
“Can I see the video with Rob's father's assassination?” I blurt out.
“You want to see the news?” Mr. Welds asks, raising both eyebrows. “The live footage? I mean, it’s not live anymore, but are you really interested in it?”
“Yes.”
Janelle sighs behind us.
Mr. Welds laughs a little. “Ms. Clancy, you obviously are not willing to let go of your past.”
That’s what I already said.
“Are you sure you want to see it?” Mr. Welds asks. “You want to see yourself shooting a human?”
“Yes,” I say again, reluctantly this time.
Mr. Welds shrugs as if he can’t change my decision. But he can. All he has to do is tell me how bloody it will be. How scary it will be. How—
“How soon do you want to view it?” he asks.
I look at him. “Now.”