Dean pops some bread into the toaster. When he pushes down the lever, the noise reverberates through my skull.
“Hazel’s asleep and Troy had to work, but he told me we can stay as long as we want.”
“Remind me to thank him,” I mumble as I rest my head on the cold countertop, close my eyes, and wish for the pain to stop.
“How are you feeling?” Hazel asks entering the kitchen and fetching a glass from the cupboard.
I slide over to make some room. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, it was this little guy,” Hazel says as she rubs her stomach. She looks up and laughs. “You look worse than I do.”
“Thanks,” I groan. “I feel stupid.” Hazel grins at me until I ask, “What?”
Hazel pours herself some juice, sniffs it, frowns, and then pushes it away. “It’s kinda silly, but it’s nice to know you’re not so perfect after all.”
I look to see if she’s joking and immediately regret moving. “No one has ever accused me of being perfect before.”
Dean hands each of us a slice of dry toast. Hazel cautiously takes a bite. “You know what I mean. You and Andi make everything you do look effortless and easy. It’s enough to give a girl a complex.”
I frown and stare at the toast, unsure if I should dare eating it. “Well, Andi is probably as close to perfect as you can get, but me—not a chance.” I force myself to take a bite of the toast which tastes bland. But that’s probably all my stomach can handle right now, so I eat it, chasing it down with juice.
Hazel stands, pushes her hands into the small if her back and stretches. “I’m going to shower and change, but you two are welcome to stay. A bit of sleep will do you both some good.”
I clean up after myself and take Hazel up on her offer. Just getting through breakfast was hard enough. There’s no way I could get through a day at work. I flop down on the couch, close my eyes, and pray for sleep until it finally comes.
Chapter 8
I wake in the early afternoon, and I’m the only one in the house. I don’t feel great, but at least the pain in my head has dulled to a more manageable level. I wish I could say the same for my embarrassment. I enter the kitchen and down some more aspirin and water. Hazel has left me a note asking me to lock up when I leave. Feeling as though I’ve overstayed my welcome, I return to the dorms to shower and change.
After I’m clean, I have no idea what to do with myself. I’m a little hungry but the dining hall is in between lunch and dinner service. I consider checking on the zoo animals, but think my stomach’s too weak to handle the stench just yet. I finally decide to visit Molly and Jake at their base lab. I’m in no mood to stare at a computer screen, but I should at least let Jake and Molly knows I’m alive, and then confirm that Ryan has taken care of the zoo animals.
Ryan’s the only one in the lab. “Elliot needed Molly and Jake to clean up again,” he grumbles. I hate how Elliot abuses his position, but I can do nothing about it, yet. Ryan closes the screens on his computer. “I took care of the animals after Wendy stopped by earlier and told us you weren’t feeling well. I didn’t expect to see you today. Is that why you skipped out on dinner last night?”
“More or less.” An awkward tension fills the room. Ryan’s overly cordial tone hints that he’s mad at me for ditching him without saying anything which might not have been the mature thing for me to do, but I won’t apologize.
“Thanks for remembering the animals,” I say and turn on my computer. The painful glare of its screen is better than continuing an uncomfortable conversation with Ryan.
Ryan turns off his computer and heads toward the door. I’m relieved, until I recall the look on Jake’s face yesterday.
“Wait,” I call. “You should stay.” Ryan stops at the door. “It’s silly to use two labs and make Jake and Molly run back and forth whenever they have a question.”
The next few days go by surprisingly quickly. First thing in the morning and at the end of the day, Ryan and I care for the animals. I can see a difference in the zoo already. Most of the animals are much more energetic, and thanks to mine and Ryan’s excess credits, the animals all have large enough cages. The only animal that’s not improving is the meerkit, Sapphire. She seems to enjoy the extra attention I give her, but she remains pale and listless. She needs opal berries, but the closest patch I know of is several days away. I can’t give anyone else directions to the berry bushes because I’m not sure I could find them again myself.
My first impression of Noah was only partially right. He’s more insecure and socially awkward than arrogant. His lead convinced Dr. Brant to remove him from the team. After that, no other team wanted him. The zoo is his misguided attempt to make himself useful, but it’s obvious that his heart isn’t in the work and he’s frightened of the animals, including many of the harmless ones. What Noah really needs is a new job assignment.
When it comes to computer programming, he’s a genius. He spends most of his free time creating his own role-playing game. His eyes light up when he explains his creation to Ryan and me – a throwback to the original Dungeons and Dragons mixed with World of Warcraft elements. Like the rest of the games in the video game chamber, his video game would be a complete immersion game with a three-sixty degree view. However, he plans on creating a new video chamber just for his game. He already had the design sketched out. A video suit suspended in a special gel solution will give players the actual resistance they’d feel in real life if they were running, swinging a sword, or even holding a vibrating wand as they cast a spell. I don’t know if his design will work, but it’s clear where his real passion lies.
When I’m not with the animals, I work furiously on the database with Jake, Molly, and Ryan. The only time we stop is for lunch and dinner. I try to get Molly and Jake to take more breaks, but they refuse. I’m touched; I know the reason behind their exhausting pace is to return Ryan and me to the field so we can help the meerkit.
I get my first sign that my pod theory is correct at dinner when Jeremy seems really upset. When everyone else leaves to play volleyball, I talk to him. He broke up with his girlfriend. I don’t know her. I only met her once, before the flood, but Jeremy insists she was really nice. At first everything about their relationship seemed wonderful to Jeremy, and he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. But over the last week, she changed so much that he can’t stand to be around her anymore.
I strongly suspect that the only thing that has changed is Jeremy’s artificial feelings for his girlfriend, but voicing my opinion won’t help him. Instead, I try to comfort him. “People put on their best faces in new relationships. Plus we tend to see only what we want to in the other person. It takes time before you really get to know each other. It’s better to find out now that she’s not the right person for you, than later on down the road.” My words seem to help; Jeremy decides to join the volleyball game.
I’m distracted during the game. I’m excited about Jeremy’s breakup, and I keep searching for any sign that Andi and Jackson are drifting apart. Unfortunately, all I get for my efforts is a spiked ball in the face and a fat lip. The two of them look as inseparable as ever. When I finally get a chance to talk to Andi, all I get is an earful about wonderful Jackson. I ask her about the robot she’s working on, but she steers the conversation back to Jackson.
I’m still encouraged by Jeremy. I make plans to get together with Wendy on Saturday, which seems to both surprise and please her. She and I have only spent time together in a group, except for that night she held my braid back as I vomited. I let her pick the activity. She chooses kickboxing—not the aerobic workout but the in-the-ring-with-gloves kickboxing. She insists it’s a great way to burn off tension. She’s an advanced level, so I’ll only practice with her and not fight her in the ring.
Saturday morning, I meet her at the laundry center. We change into kickboxing gear—basically full body unitards. I feel ridiculous, but I swallow my pride and follow her to the gym. There are more people there than I expect. First, we have a class where the instructor corrects everyone’s form—especially mine. Wendy receives only smiling nods of approval. Next, the instructor gives me a brief orientation before I can get into the ring, and then I suit up with gloves, mouth guard, and headgear. And I thought I looked ridiculous before. I seem to be the only new person in the class, but Wendy says the girl I’m pitted against has been practicing kickboxing for just a few weeks. I’m not too worried when I get into the ring until she clocks me in the head. I block her next blow, but she sneaks a punch at my gut. While I’m still catching my breath, she tries to kick me. I knock her foot straight up in the air, hard enough that she loses her balance and lands on her butt. She swears at me, one of the raunchiest words I know.
I immediately lose all respect for her and see red because I will not be called that word,
ever
. She gets up and charges, but I kick her down again. Face red and nostrils flaring, she looks absolutely livid, but before she can react, the bell chimes, ending our sparring match.
“That was a great side piercing kick.” Wendy says and gives me a high-five.
I beam and say, “Thanks.” I feel pretty good about myself. I thought I had done a really good job, but then Wendy gets into the ring with a guy twice her size. “This is a co-ed sport?” I ask, surprised.
The instructor laughs and explains there aren’t any women within Wendy’s skill level, so she fights against the males, at least those willing to fight her. Most of the men outright refuse. Looking at Wendy, I’m not surprised. She’s quite pretty with her piercing brown eyes, deep brown hair and gorgeous copper skin, but her petite body and sugary sweet voice are the real problem. They give her a childlike quality that no man wants to lose to or win against.
As soon as the bell rings, Wendy proves that looks can be deceiving. She flies around the ring, punching and kicking her opponent and moving on before he can respond. I feel bad for him. She’s a little anime-looking character, making gravity defying moves. I’m definitely going to avoid ever getting on her bad side.
After her match, we sit and watch everyone else spar. I enjoy it, but no one, not even the instructor comes close to Wendy’s level of skill in the ring.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” I ask her later, at lunch.
“From my uncle. He raised me from the time I was a baby. He also happened to own a kickboxing gym. He used to joke that I kicked before I crawled. He was such an incredible man.”
Picking up on the consistent past tense, I ask, “So what happened to him?”
A frown creeps across her face. “Heart attack. He was sixty-eight and the picture of health, except the congenital heart defect he never told me about. But at least he died the way he wanted to. He always said he only wanted to grow old if he could stay mobile and active. The day he was unable to work at the gym, he’d be ready to meet his maker.”
“Is that how you ended up here? Because he died?”
Wendy wrings her napkin until her knuckles turn white. “Both of his sons were fully grown with their own careers. I was fifteen at the time, but neither one of them wanted to become my guardian. They left me to foster care, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they sold the gym the first chance they got.”
“That’s horrible.” I gasp. At least I ended up in foster care because I didn’t have any relatives left that weren’t in a nursing home.
“In a way, I should thank them, but it doesn’t mean I forgive them.” She gives me a thoughtful glance. “You lost your family in a plane crash right?”
I’m surprised she knows. “Yeah.”
“I remember hearing you tell Jeremy,” she explains.
For the rest of lunch our conversation focuses on Wendy’s wedding plans. I want to be interested and express sympathy when she tells me the midnight blue bridesmaids’ dresses aren’t available the weekend she’s scheduled to marry. When I ask her what she means by “scheduled,” she explains the base only allows three wedding times a day—morning, early afternoon and sunset. Weekend weddings have a long waiting list, but she wants a weekend wedding. She’s scheduled in June.
I have a hard time hiding my shock. I know a few of my friends are engaged, but had no idea enough people across the base are marrying so that Wendy’s wedding is scheduled for such a long time into the future. I guess I am naive. I need Andi to snap out of her lovesick state soon. She’s the only one I know and trust that might possibly have the computer skills to shut down or at least alter the pod’s programming.
Before lunch ends, I ask Wendy to sleep upside down to help me with some research. As before, I imply it’s a blind study. Not only does she agree, but she volunteers to have Zachary participate. That takes care of my immediate circle of friends, excluding Troy who’s married and having a baby with Hazel. I can’t justify breaking them up which could devastate one or both of them. Once I’m positive about the pods and have Andi back to normal, she can help me decide what to do about Troy and Hazel.
After lunch, I walk to the lab to work on my database. Ryan is there working, but for once, Molly and Jake have listened to me and taken the day off. Ryan eagerly shows me his work. He’s added an approval process for all new entries. Every new entry is added to a separate queue. Data can be viewed within the queue but won’t enter the main database and its search engine until it’s approved.
I point out that the new addition to the database is a double-edged sword. People won’t be able to muck up the database, but someone will need to constantly review the information. There’s a strong chance that Dr. Brant will appoint one or both of us as the reviewers, and we’ll never get to see the field again.
Ryan takes the criticism better than I expected. “We can just keep that part of the programming from Dr. Brant until after we’re back in the field.”
Jake bounds into the lab.
“What’s up?” Ryan asks.
“Molly and Alex just broke up. She’s pretty upset right now, but I’m really not the best person to comfort her right now.” This is quite an understatement, considering his jovial tone.