Price of the Fallen
By Kelly Dawn
By Kelly Dawn
Quick note: The point of view changes with each chapter to the character specified.
I had a headache. The lights of the room were dim enough already, but it hardly helped. A faint, omnipresent blip echoed off the metal walls and reminded me that there were more important things to be concerned with at the moment. My project was coming along quite nicely. In fact, I figured she would probably be waking up within the next twenty-four hours.
Finally, everything I had worked so hard to create was close to being finished.
“You’ve been down in this lab all day,” came the saucy voice of my assistant. Lynn Fontaine stood in the doorway with hands on her hips. The woman was lovely, as usual, and flaunting it mercilessly. She added, “You’re going to go blind from the dark.”
“I’m half way there already,” I retorted, adjusting the spectacles on my face.
Lynn crossed from the door to the control console and tapped a finger on one of the blinking buttons. Her raven hair fell at her shoulders and she looked over at me with a smirk. “I don’t understand,” she muttered. “It’s the year 2256; we’re colonizing Europa. And here you are, still refusing to get your eyes fixed. The art is absolutely flawless, Benjamin, and has been ever since 2004.”
I pushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear and sighed. “Doctor’s aren’t trustworthy,” I replied.
“But scientists are?” Lynn asked, bitterness in her voice.
“It’s different.”
“Is it?”
I clenched my hands into fists and tried not to become too irritated. “Don’t you have something else to do right now?” She pouted sourly and made a beeline for the door. Before I could go back on my words, she was gone. Lynn was a testy type, and I often found myself making her angry. We had been working on the project for a few years, even though we persistently drove each other up the walls.
My gaze drifted slowly towards the scene that was laid out in front of me. The tank glowed eerily and the figure of a young girl floated in the life-sustaining fluid. She was everything that my effort and exertion had boiled down to. She was a modern miracle.
Keeping a human being alive for more than one hundred and eighty years was supposed to be a rare occurrence. Keeping a human being the same physical age for more than one hundred and eighty years was supposed to be impossible.
I smiled to myself. I had done the impossible.
As I sat and pondered my obvious success, the body in the tank kicked its leg. Instantly, I leapt from the chair and hunched over the control console. The monitor showed a pulse, and it was growing stronger by the second. She was awakening.
I entered the fluid-release code and watched as the tank drained. The girl collapsed to her knees and breathed gently. I was almost too anxious to pop open the glass door, but, with shaky fingers, I pried it ajar and went in after my prize.
Her eyes fluttered open lazily and I could see that her pupils were fully dilated. She blinked and shook the immediate wetness from her waterlogged hair, which was pooled across the cold floor of the tank. I cradled my beloved project with almost paternal care.
Suddenly, however, she cried in alarm and shoved me away. She looked about frantically and attempted to cover her body, for she was unclothed. I reached towards her, but in vain. She twisted from my touch and threw herself from the tank. “Stop,” I ordered softly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Helen.”
The girl whirled around. Her eyes were livid and terrified. “How do you know my name?” she shrieked hoarsely. “Where am I? Who are you?” I stood and moved at her with my arms outspread.
“Just be calm,” I whispered. “Calm. Let us find you something to wrap up in, shall we?” She was quiet for a while, and then scrambled awkwardly to her feet. A strange glint had settled in her blue eyes when she at last turned to look at me.
“All right . . .”
“Why do you feel that you need to do this?” asked Lynn curiously. Her and I were sitting in what I liked to call the Observation Room. A five-foot-by-three-foot pane of glass served as a window into a bedroom. Currently, Helen occupied that bedroom and was lying in the bed. I knew she wasn’t asleep, though. Her breathing was too shallow for sleep.
I put my hands behind my head and exhaled sharply. “I need to make sure that she’s still Helen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? She hasn’t had the chance to change. She’s the same person, unlike some people.”
“You’d best not say a word about that to Helen,” I warned. “I want to start over. With this new body, she won’t recognize me at all.” Lynn scowled and turned her attention to the window. “Do you have any regrets about this?” she inquired hesitantly. “Think of the consequences if she were to discover the truth of why she was preserved.”
I bit my lip restrainedly and shifted. The bedroom was specifically made to resemble a modern 2060s atmosphere. I vaguely remembered the 2060s, even though I had been in my original body at the time.
Helen remained stationary on the mattress and I began to wonder if she would ever move. “Do you think she realizes that we’re watching her?” Lynn mused. For a moment, I froze in place. Perhaps she was aware of what was occurring.
“Preposterous,” I shrugged. “From her perspective, our window is simply a decorative mirror. Even the thought of her noticing is—”
“Irrational?” Lynn quipped. “Keeping a girl alive in a tank for 193 years is irrational.”
Something in my mind twitched. “Lynn,” I growled.
“Paying a surgeon to insert your brain into dead men’s bodies is irrational!”
“Lynn!” I hollered, lunging to my feet. My voice must’ve carried through the walls. To the left, through the glass, Helen sat up in the bed and screamed as she burst into terrified sobs. All rage ebbed away, and I ran rough fingers over the window. “Look,” I said gently. “She’s so delicate, like a flower.” The door slid shut when I glanced over my shoulder.
I calmly exited the room as Professor Benjamin continued to rant and rave about his beautiful blossom. What was so great about her? Why on earth would he sustain this girl when he already had a woman who loved him? I didn’t understand.
Of course, I don’t think he knew of my feelings for him, but that was beside the point. Common sense is not so common among men.
A yawn managed to squeeze through my throat and I figured that it must’ve been rather late. I decided to retire for the evening. Punching in the security code to the bedroom, I sat down on the bed and kicked off my boots. It had been a long and tiresome day.
I lazily changed into my pajamas and nested into the security of my sheets. True peace, I felt, could only be attained through that one millisecond when the blankets first touch one’s skin. When that happens, worries and deadlines and plans are all forgotten.
The framed picture of Ben smiled up at me from the nightstand as I closed my eyes and drifted asleep. Hopefully, tomorrow would show more promise.
It was the middle of the night when something hard thudded outside in the hallway. I woke and grumbled in aggravation. Letting my eyes focus, I slipped out of bed and wobbled across the floor. If it was Benjamin, so help me . . .
I yanked the door almost off its hinges and glared down the hall. A shadowy body was inching away and using the wall for support. Perhaps Ben was sleepwalking again. He did that sometimes. “Hey,” I called quietly. “Who’s there?”
The entity stopped for a second. I could hear ragged breathing that sounded almost . . . feminine. An interesting thought tugged my lips apart.
“Helen?”
“Don’t come any closer,” she pleaded weakly. “Please.”
I approached the tank girl and placed a hand on her arm. Her long, silky hair had been pulled back into five self-made braids that dangled just above the floor. She was trying to escape the lab. I inwardly smirked. If I helped her to escape and made certain she was gone for good, Ben would give up and turn to me for companionship. The city was a deadly place for those with no street sense, and Helen would most likely never be heard from again.
“I can assist you,” I whispered into her ear. Helen jolted to attention and stared at me with melancholy aquamarine eyes.
“You would do that?” she gasped. I faked a sickeningly sweet smile.
“Of course,” I replied. The girl smiled back.
“My name is Helen White.”
“Lynn Fontaine,” I crooned. “It’s a pleasure. Now, we’d best find you some different clothes to wear. If you were to leave here in that little linen gown, you’d be chilled to the very bone.” Helen took my hand like an innocent child crossing the street and I led her to my room.
Once inside, I passed my fingers over a panel on the wall to bring the lights to life. I threw the closet door open and chose a tan sweater and a pair of dark brown overalls. Earthtones had gone out of popular fashion at least a month ago, but I didn’t want to give up any of my new outfits. Helen took the clothes graciously and I averted my eyes as she changed.
“Thanks, Miss Fontaine,” she gushed. “You’re too kind. If only there was some way I could repay you.”
There was. She could die.
“Think nothing of it,” I said airily. Helen wiggled her free toes. “Oh, shoes!” I remembered. “You can’t walk the city barefoot, now can you?” From the closet came two robust brown boots. They appeared to be an old pair of Ben’s, but I wondered why they were in my closet. With a shrug, I passed them off to Helen.
When she was ready, I showed her into the hallway.
“Follow me,” I offered. Helen stuck close to the point where she was almost molded to my side. Our surroundings were dim and it was tricky to see the floor five paces in front of us. Luckily, I knew just about every hall in the lab by heart.
After about ten minutes of simple navigation, the metal double doors of the exit were visible. Helen broke away from me and staggered towards them. She touched one of the doors and then looked back at me with a curious expression. “Why did you help me?” she asked.
I flinched. “I, uh, can’t stand it when others are in situations they don’t want to be in,” I lied.
Helen’s gaze shifted to her feet, and then back at me. “I see. Well, thank you again, Miss Fontaine,” she whispered, pushing open the double doors. The instant she did so, neon lights of all colors flooded through the hall. Deafening sounds of endless hovering cars and driving nightclub rhythms pulsed in Helen’s ears and mine. She slammed the doors. Her hair was tousled from the wind.
“This is not the 2063 I remembered,” she breathed.
“This is not 2063 at all,” I corrected. Helen’s legs finally gave out and she slid to the ground with her back against the doors.
“Then . . . where am I?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“It’s that bad, huh?” she moaned. Her words were strained as if she were holding back tears. I think, for that solitary moment, I pitied the poor thing. Everyone she cared for was dead and the only person she knew in this futuristic, Godforsaken world just happened to be me.
Helen slowly rose and shoved the doors open. Against the backdrop of neon and sound, she appeared as merely a silhouette, a foreign and unfamiliar life. She took one step beyond the exit, and the doors closed. Helen was gone.
“She’s gone?” Benjamin shrieked, glaring in disbelief at the empty bedroom. I stood directly behind him so that he was unable to see my pleased smile. He took a deep breath, removed his spectacles, and massaged the bridge of his nose. Ben wasn’t much of a morning person, that was for sure.
“Indeed,” I said dryly.
The professor turned around, nearly running into me, and fled into the hall. “I need to find Vladimir,” he muttered. I idly followed him, taking note of the vein on the side of his head.
“Your brother?”
Of course, Vladimir was most definitely not Ben’s brother. Ben was more of a great, great grandfather to Vlad than anything else. “Yes,” he answered. “And I’m sure I know exactly where to find him.”
“This is a fine gin and tonic,” I complemented the bartender. It was too early to drink myself silly, but I was attempting to numb the hangover from the previous night. My eyes scanned the patrons of the bar through oblong sunglasses. These people, these men who never seemed to leave their seats, acted as my second family. We knew every one of each other’s darkest secrets, but only because we were all drunk off our stools when we told them.
Grinning bitterly, I could hear the pianist pick up with a nice little jazz number. Despite everything that went on outside, inside, the bar never changed. In fact, it had hardly changed at all over the past century. Time almost . . . stood still there.
I lifted my glass and emptied it with a satisfied gulp. As I lowered it from my lips, a very bizarre thing happened. “Vlad,” my brother called from across the floor. “Vlad, there you are. I figured I’d find you here.”
“Hey, where else would I be?” I sniggered. Benjamin clambered upon a stool beside me and adjusted his specs. The barman asked for his beverage preference (“Scotch and water, if you please.”), and I leaned in towards him. He always bit his nails when he felt anxious, and he was currently doing so. “Are you worried about something?”
Benjie straightened. “No, of course not,” he said indignantly. “Why would you think that?”
I put a hand against my laughing lips and sighed, “When are you going to learn, dearest brother, that I can read your mind?” It always bothered Benjie that I loved to kid, even though I could never figure out why. The man had practically been void of a sense of humor for his entire freakishly prolonged life.
“To be perfectly frank, I’m in a bit of trouble,” he admitted sourly. The barman handed Benjie his scotch and he chugged the entire drink. I whistled in astonishment.
“You must be in more than a bit of trouble if you’re drinking like that, Benjie,” I observed.
He played with the ice in his glass and frowned. “Do you remember when I told you about that project of mine and the reason I did all this to myself? I did tell you, right?” he asked softly. I delved deep into the back of my brain and attempted to find the information.
Finally, I snapped my fingers. “I do,” I replied. “I recall some girl that you loved way back when, and you said she lived in liquid sleep in your lab.” The story never seemed to grow old in my head. How on earth could I forget?
“Exactly,” Benjie nodded. “I need you to find her.”
“Find her?”
“Find her,” he repeated. “Yes, she kind of . . . escaped during the night. The real problem is, I’m not sure if she’s hurt somewhere, or frightened, or being held by the Pirates. This city is not forgiving. You, of all people, should know that. I just want you to keep a good ear out tonight when the other patrons come in for a drink, that’s all. Nothing ever seems to go on in this monster of a metropolis without Vladimir Romikolov catching wind of it.”
Actually, he was dead on. Criminals, bounty hunters, and even a few of the Pirates themselves drank at the bar on a regular basis. I wrung my hands together excitedly. So, I was to become a spy.
“I accept,” I said. Instantly, the lines melted away from Benjie’s face and he smiled appreciatively.
“Thank you,” he gushed. “Vlad, oh my God, thank you.”
Pirates. I never did like them much. Even that night, as I watched one of them guzzle a few pints of beer, my disgust with the gang stood its ground. The pianist, a timid balding man in his early thirties, was at this Pirate’s mercy for requests. I saw his fingers tremble uncontrollably while he played, knowing full well that if he made one noticeable error, the burly Pirate would show no forgiveness.
“Yeah,” the bearded brute cackled. “Found a real sweet thing earlier this afternoon. Said her name was Helen. How about that? When was the last time you heard that name, eh?”
I perked up considerably. When was the last time I heard that name? Ever since Helen Rauchester, an environmental activist, destroyed the Orion Space Station on a suicide mission, no one dared name his or her daughter Helen. No one from this time could possibly have that name and still be alive. Could this be the girl Benjie wanted me to find out about?
“What did you do with her, boss?” asked a wiry youth. “Did you take her back to your place?” The Pirate began to chuckle, but then punched the lad right between the eyes.
“What do you take me for?” he boomed. “Some sort of womanizer?”
“So what did you do with her?” I hollered to him. He spun to glare angrily at me. Tension in the small pub mounted, and the patrons slowly left their chairs. Even the pianist moved away from the piano. This wasn’t the first time I had been in a bar fight. In fact, some were rather entertaining. Sadly, this was a Pirate, and Pirates kept heat blades in their boots. One cut, and it would be over.
He swung at me when I wasn’t ready, and my nose crunched on his fist. When I stopped being cross-eyed, I realized that my sunglasses were missing and that I was on the floor.
“Ah,” I groaned. “Those were my favorite pair.”
The Pirate kicked me in the ribs, and the brawl finished before it even started. No heat blade was necessary. He guffawed and returned to his table, dragging the poor pianist back with him. I struggled to stand and gripped the countertop for balance.
“You’re bleeding,” the barman pointed out, tossing a damp towel at me. I gently held it against my busted nose and exhaled. So much for being a spy, I mused brokenly. Without another word, I headed towards the stairs to the roof. Sulking came easier there.
As I opened the door and stepped out onto the rooftop, I was rather surprised to see a stranger standing near the edge. In the dark, the person obviously was female. A head of long braids cascaded down near her feet and they swung limply in the breeze. Something about this young woman was otherworldly.
“Excuse me,” I announced. The lady choked in alarm and whirled around. “Sorry there, Miss, I was just wondering if perhaps your name was . . . Helen.”
A lengthy pause settled between us. Her eyes, two pools of glistening storm water, reached to mine with such deep desperation and intensity that goosebumps rose on my arms and neck.
“Helen,” she said slowly, as if savoring the name. “Yes, that is my name.” I jumped forward excitedly. Wouldn’t Benjie be so pleased with me! The girl gazed sorrowfully skyward and pointed childishly at the heavens.
“Look,” she remarked. “No stars.”
“They haven’t been visible for about the past hundred and eighty years due to pollution,” I commented. I must’ve said something horribly wrong, for she bit her lip and sunk to the cold rooftop. The air grew chilled. “Do you want to join me for a drink? I know someone who’s trying to find you.”
Helen wiped away tears as I helped her up. She shook under my fingers, and her eyes were fixated upon the towel I had pressed against my nose. Dull pain throbbed in the cartilage, but I didn’t perceive the pain.
“Is that a . . . towel?” Helen implored.
“A towel,” I confirmed. “Yeah.”
“A towel,” she groaned with relief. “It’s a towel. A simple, ordinary towel.”
Thinking at that moment that she must’ve been completely insane, I led her back to the bar.
The loss of Helen kept me in a constant daze for the duration of the day. When night decided to arrive, I could only toss and turn in feverish dreams. I ultimately decided to just sit and read until the morning came. At breakfast, Lynn served coffee and those little egg pastries I was wild about. For some reason, ever since Helen left, she had been acting severely kind to me. Perhaps her actions were out of pity.
“Sleep well?” she asked, concerned, as if the shadows under my eyes didn’t already give her an answer. I shook my head. Before Lynn could ask why, the telecommunicator beeped. I rushed to answer it and raised an eyebrow when I saw whom I was speaking to.
“Benjie,” Vlad cried happily. “You’ll never guess who I actually found! Guess!”
“No.”
“. . . Helen!”
Lynn, behind me, dropped the coffee pot and it smashed on the tiled floor. I would’ve taken notice, but the adrenaline didn’t allow me to move. I sat, completely still, and glared at Vlad. “You have Helen,” I whispered urgently. “Can I talk to her?”
Vlad sunk into himself a bit. “Actually, she’s still asleep,” he admitted. “I took her back to my place; hope you don’t mind. See, she was acting really weird, and I figured it was best for her not to be out and about unattended.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “When will you be bringing her here?”
“Once she’s awake and dressed,” he replied. “See you then.” The telecom blipped off and I could hear the noises of Lynn cleaning up the coffee pot. She was muttering obscenities under her breath that sounded much too strong for a simple broken appliance.
I pushed from the telecom and walked to the door. “I’m going to get dressed,” I announced. Lynn’s cheeks were flushed an extreme red, but she nodded sullenly.
Thirty minutes had never felt that long to me in the past. Now, while I waited for Vlad and Helen, it felt like an eternity. Scenarios madly dashed around inside my skull. What if Helen fled again? What if Vlad tried to steal her from me? What if I was forced to fight him?
“Nonsense,” I hissed. “Utter nonsense.”
“What is?” asked Vlad as he entered the study, his hand wrapped around recognizable pale fingers. Helen stood by my brother’s side, unwavering, and took to scanning the room with her azure eyes. I crossed over to them and placed my palms coolly on the girl’s cheeks. She didn’t flinch or do anything of sort. Instead, she continued to look around the study.
“Déjà vu,” came her diminutive voice.
Vlad let go of her hand, much to my delight, and sat in one of the armchairs by the window. It was bad enough that she slept at his apartment; I didn’t need him touching her. Helen suddenly lurched forward and grabbed onto my coat collar, knocking me to the carpet.
“It’s the only familiar thing I have!” she shrieked. “Where did it go?”
Momentarily shocked, I threw her aside and rushed to my feet. Vlad was on his, and our expressions appeared to be mutual as we watched Helen flail and scream on the floor. She quickly became placid once more and I moved to hold her.
“Don’t,” said Vlad. “She’s not right . . . you know, in the head.”
“Nonsense,” I spat.
“You like that word,” my brother retorted. “Do you always deceive yourself, or is that only a today thing?”
I inwardly seethed, but chose to ignore his instigations. My Helen couldn’t be mentally unstable. My Helen was perfect. My Helen was an angel. I knelt beside her and whispered, “Are you quite all right?”
She twisted over onto her back. “I’m so tired.”
I swept Helen into my arms without a second thought and exited the study. Vlad followed me warily as if he were aware of some unforeseen danger. When we reached Helen’s room, I set her down on the bed and removed her boots. I paused. Those were my boots.
“These are my boots,” I said.
“She’s a thief?” gasped Vlad sarcastically. “No.”
“God, will you shut up?” I drawled. Helen was currently staring, unblinking, at the wall. Vlad rolled his eyes and rubbed at his nose. I noted that it looked broken, but I wasn’t going to comment for fear of hearing the story.
“Am I far in the future?” Helen asked feebly. “How far am I?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her, and neither did Vlad, apparently. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan leather trenchcoat and grimaced. How would one go about telling another person that their family and friends were dead? The room darkened around us.
Helen hiccupped and settled into the bed without hearing an answer. “Towel,” she breathed. “It’s all I have . . .”
I gazed questioningly at Vlad, who left the bedroom. My legs were just about to follow him when he returned with a fluffy green towel from the linen closet. He draped it over Helen’s chest, and the girl closed her eyes to sleep.
“What on earth was that?” I inquired.
“Oh, I got into a fight last night and cracked my nose. The barman gave me a towel for the blood, and shortly after, I met Helen,” Vlad explained. “She saw my towel and started seriously freaking out. I mean freaking out.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in the large mirror on the opposite side of the room and fixed my rumpled, dark hair. It slowly occurred to me how oddly huge the mirror was, and then I realized that it wasn’t a mirror at all. In fact, that was the window Lynn and myself used to watch Helen just the other day. My skin went cold.
“Let’s let her be,” I said forcedly, practically dragging my brother from the room and closing the door. Vlad brushed himself off in an arrogant sort of way. “Want something to drink?”
“I always do,” he replied saucily.
The two men slipped behind the corner and went towards the kitchen. I came out of hiding just as they disappeared and then slunk to Helen’s room. Seeing Ben carry her like that infuriated me, and I intended to do something about it. She had such an affect on him, and she was no more charming than myself.
I coolly swung the bedroom door open enough so that my head might poke through. Helen slept heavily in the dim light. I knew very well that if I could tell her the truth of Ben’s intent, his relationship with her would be over. Helen would leave forever and never bother us again. Ben would be mine again.
With feline grace, I entered and silently pushed the door until it clicked shut. The two men would be gone for at least fifteen minutes, which was more than enough time. I blinked when my eyes fell upon the bed. There, lying across the sheets near Helen’s neck, was a towel.
I reached to snatch it off, but a cold hand caught my slender wrist. “What do you want?” she asked huskily.
“It’s Lynn,” I told her.
“Just Lynn? No one else?”
“Just Lynn.”
Helen sat up and held the towel close, rocking back and forth. “I don’t like the buildings here,” she said placidly. “They’re too high and you can’t even see where they meet the ground.” I stood over her, seeing in my mind how Ben’s glasses seemed to fog over whenever she was mentioned. My hands flexed involuntarily as I imagined Helen’s neck between them.
She tentatively took a long braid and started to undo it. By the time I decided how I was going to speak, her hair flowed down the bed and pooled at her lap. She looked so serene sitting in the sheets and gazing up at me with those sharp, cerulean irises. A part of me would miss her when she left—an incredibly small part.
“You know,” I began. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
Helen inched closer. “Is that why you came into my room?” she asked. “What do you want to say?”
“It’s about . . . Ben,” I confessed. Stay strong, my mind yelled. Stay strong, and then the professor will be yours. “His name isn’t really Ben.”
“What is it, then? Did he change it?”
She wasn’t catching on, but, of course, I didn’t expect her too yet. “Many times,” I continued. “Do you recall a man from your past named Stuart Rice?” Instantly, Helen’s mouth gaped and the color drained from her face.
“Stu,” she cried. “Stu was my boyfriend; well, ex-boyfriend, actually. And then I got married.”
“Married?” I echoed. “That fills in a key piece of information . . .”
Helen raised an eyebrow in question. “What do you mean?”
It all made absolute sense now. Ben—then Stuart—must have been so jealous of Helen’s recent husband that he wanted to steal her away and keep her all for himself. Then, when the husband resisted, he . . .
Oh my God.
I felt air chilling my lips as I gasped in panic. “Helen, unclasp those overalls and take off that sweater,” I ordered calmly. She slid from the bed and did as she was told. Once her torso was bare, my fingers briskly searched the skin. I didn’t have to go far before feeling impurities.
“What is it?” inquired Helen impatiently.
There, carved in her back, were deep knife scars. “Sweet mother,” I howled. “He murdered you! He was jealous and he murdered you!” Helen flew around to meet my eyes with her own. She contorted to feel the scars and then jumped from the carpet, pacing the bedroom at a panicked pace.
“Stu!” she screamed. “Stu did this to me! I . . . I remember that night. Julian and I had just finished dinner and we were sitting on the sofa by the fireplace. Oh God . . . and we heard a knock on the door, and Julian went to answer it. Stu was there, and he shoved Julian away from him and came after me! I kicked and hit him once or twice, but Julian tackled him from behind and they rolled towards the fireplace.”
Helen had tears cascading down her face and onto her unclothed chest, but she didn’t notice. She took a second to breathe, and then returned to the story.
“Stu grabs his hair and shoves him face first into the roaring fire! Julian, no! Julian! And he won’t stop! Julian! Even when Stu burns his own hand, he doesn’t make any noises except for this maddening laugh . . . and . . . Julian! God, why? He gets up and looks at me. I can see a knife, and Julian isn’t moving. Stu crosses the room and puts his arms around me. And then . . . and then . . . I remember hurting. . .”
I winced as Helen suddenly roared in pain and crumpled to the floor. For what seemed like an eternity, she lay motionless and silent.
“Helen,” I called weakly.
“Yes,” she answered breathily.
“Ben is Stu.” A profound pause settled between us. I continued, “You almost died, but Stu created the technology to keep that from happening. The injuries put you into a coma-like sleep; he was aging, and you weren’t waking. He paid a respectable surgeon to take his brain and place it into a healthy man’s body. Once that one started to go, so did the money from his pocket. This time, however, it was that surgeon’s son who performed the operation. They settled on a man named Benjamin Vince, who died ironically from a brain tumor the previous afternoon. Then, two days ago, you woke up.”
When Helen failed to answer, I sighed and left the room.
The vodka was perfect, and I couldn’t have been happier. Benjie sat across the table from me and carefully sipped the steaming coffee. Something unfathomable within his expression suggested discomfort, and every so often he would look towards the door as if expecting someone. “Helen’s not right,” he grumbled. “I can sense it.”
“Feeling a disturbance in the Force, eh?” I teased.
“That is so cliché,” he retorted.
“Hey, I’m a sucker for the classics.”
“Shut up, Vlad.”
Lynn entered the room and sat down with an exasperated sigh. Her eyelids seemed heavy beneath the dark gray makeup. She had always been desirable to me, just not my type. I figured the attraction was mutual.
“Is Helen all right?” Benjie implored. “Did you hear anything from her room?”
“She’s just fine,” Lynn replied smoothly. “Out like a light.” A tone in her voice struck me as odd, but I inwardly shrugged it off. Benjie slouched in his seat and gulped the remainder of the coffee. He needed to work on relaxing and just loosening up in general. The man was a walking knot of stress and he never did anything to change that.
I quaffed my bottle of vodka. God, it was good.
Just then, my eyes caught the image of Helen running past the doorway and tugging on a sweater. My brow furrowed in confusion. “Um . . . I think I saw Helen out in the hall,” I muttered. Benjie slammed his mug on the table.
“In the hall?” he spat. “I think that vodka’s getting to you.”
“No, I swear it,” I argued. “I saw her go right in front of that door.” Lynn sat strangely still and made no attempt to offer any words. My brother rose and went to have a look. Sure enough, he started sprinting and I had no choice but to follow him. Lynn trailed behind us at a dull jog.
When I pulled alongside Benjie, we were stopped before the open door to the roof of the lab. He pulled me frantically up the stairs by my sleeve. I could hear the clip-clop of Lynn’s heels on the metal steps as we both reached the top.
Helen stood on the edge of the roof with arms outstretched. The green towel from earlier hung from her fist. Her long hair whipped furiously in the vicious wind and soared about her like angel wings; the scene would have been magnificent if it weren’t for the fact that she was trying to kill herself.
“Hello there, Ben,” she said piercingly over the sounds of the city.
“Please, Helen,” Benjie begged. “Please don’t do this.”
Lynn came up behind me and brought a hand to her mouth. She was surprised, but not surprised enough. Benjie took a step forward. “Don’t move,” Helen commanded. “Stay exactly where you are.” She glared at him coldly. Something was lost within her eyes.
Without so much as a farewell, Helen hurled herself off the building and plummeted to the distant earth below. The towel fluttered and rippled as if it were a flag. Benjie screeched in alarm and dove for his love, but she was gone. He watched her fall and then turned from the horrendous sight. Lynn rushed to comfort him, but the man had lost his last bit of wits. Like a child holding a dead puppy, he broke down and wept. Lynn’s lips drew into a smile.
I saw it clearly, but it disappeared when I blinked. She gathered Benjie close and helped him back down the stairs into the lab. I, however, remained on the roof for quite some time before ultimately deciding to join them.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my trenchcoat, I took to observing the sky. Perhaps, in Helen’s time, it had been blue and bright. Perhaps the looming smog was absent and one could spend time outside for an hour without coughing. Perhaps, in the end, she was only striving to go home.
Below me, I could hear the faint siren of an ambulance.
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