THE EVENING WAS crisp and cool. Trees rattled with one or two remaining autumn leaves about to forsake their home in the branches. All the people that had been working, playing, and relaxing across New Creation Rehab facility were inside eating dinner, in class, or settling into bed. While these tasks were being handled by other volunteers and employees of the facility, Zion and Rachel hosted the newest guests in their conference room deep in the building. On the buffet table in a far corner of the room were supplies to create a delicious meal of one’s choosing.
Everybody within the room was nibbling on what they had selected and awaiting Zion to start discussing the next steps. It was one of the most homey and cozy places that Pat had ever been to. Even so, he felt a strong feeling that he was not supposed to be here. It wasn’t that he had done anything truly horrible, but he just didn’t feel like he was a good person in comparison to everybody else. Except maybe Arrow. Arrow was purely himself, which wasn’t always pleasant.
And Clive. Clive was an arrogant pig.
“This is very exciting for us.” Zion said finally. “We are glad that you all are here and we know there are a lot of aspects we need to discuss.”
Zion stood and placed his empty plate of food on the table in front of him. Rachel gazed at her husband lovingly and Pat felt a pang in his chest remembering that Justice used to look at him that way. That gaze was burned into his memory in the form of one of their wedding pictures, which was a permanent reminder of his loss.
“I agree with that.” Clive said a little too loudly, followed by his arrogant smirk and brushing his hair back with his fingers.
Pat used all his willpower to resist making a sarcastic comment. He was not among friends here.
“As I stated earlier, apparitions are being seen that seem to be based on private thoughts. These private thoughts are things that have previously been ‘resolved’ by the Thought Conductor technology.”
“Why is this not making national news?” Arrow asked.
“Because somebody is snuffing out the stories.” Zion said.
Harmony made an astonished noise where she sat and everybody turned to look at her. Quietly she said, “I think I was one of those stories.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, trying to coax Harmony to continue.
“I saw a girl that appeared to be fatally wounded in my backyard but then she disappeared. The whole situation was very odd and then it never made the news. Since then I have been seeing other apparitions, too.”
“You have a chip, right?” Clive asked even though it seemed like he already knew the answer.
“Yes, I do.”
“If you’re comfortable with it, we may do more investigating on what is going on in your case.” Zion said. “That’s where Clive and Pat come in.” Zion looked at the pair of them and Pat felt a lump drop into his stomach at the thought of having to work with Clive. “You two have the inside scoop on how the chip works and what to do to install one. This information will be critical for our research.”
“Of course.” Clive agreed.
“We have always been a rehab facility, but we have been moonlighting as rescuers. Some of our clients have been victims of chip hacking by various doctors’ offices in Kimber. Somebody has been installing microchips into the brains of addicts and deactivating the safety features, which has the potential to turn people into glorified vegetables.”
“That’s awful.” Clive said. “We have had a few patients come into the hospital after using hacking codes they got from dealers.”
“How does that turn people into vegetables?” Harmony asked.
“Each chip has security features which prevent users from deleting what is considered ‘baseline emotions’, or expected levels of reactions to everyday experiences. Some people will override those security features and enable their chips to delete any and all emotions.” Pat said.
Clive bowed his head slightly. Pat assumed it was meant out of respect for the victims of these tragedies, but to Pat, it seemed like false piety.
“Are they turning those people into vegetables purposely?” Pat asked Zion.
Zion shook his head slowly, “We don’t know. They are doing some kind of experiments on vulnerable people, though. That’s why we had to get you out of there.”
Sirona stirred for the first time since arriving in the conference room. A small sob escaped from her lips and she curled her legs underneath her where she sat in a far corner.
Pat’s heart went out to her, which is what prompted him to say, “When are we going back for Mayre?”
At this, Clive stopped bowing his head in piety and snapped to attention. His eyes sparkled brightly and all the color drained from his cheeks. He looked like he was about to vomit across the floor. “Mayre? My wife?” Pat didn’t answer. “You left. My. Wife???” Clive stood and stormed over to him. He was about to grab Pat by the shoulders, but he managed to duck under Clive’s outstretched hands and back away closer to Zion, who was also standing now.
“Dr. Evers, we weren’t able to get her out safely.” Zion’s voice was calm, but firm.
Clive seemed to teeter between throwing a punch and striving to rise above petty fights.
“Where. Is. She?” Clive spoke slowly but his voice shook. His control was breaking.
“I don’t believe it would be wise…” Zion began.
“I’m getting my wife, you sack of…”
Zion stopped Clive from continuing by placing the palm of his hand over Clive’s heart. “Clive.” Zion’s voice was calm, kind, and soothing as it always was. “I know you’re scared. We intend to rescue your wife. Do not do anything rash.”
Clive’s shoulders began to shake with the tension he was holding, but he finally released it by swinging his right fist against the drywall behind Zion. He walked away cradling his wrist and his wounded pride. The tension within the room seemed to loosen slightly.
“We are doing our best to be cautious, but are also striving to rescue as many people as we can from these clinics. There could be more places than the ones we have identified.” Rachel said.
“I want to help rescue Mayre.” Sirona interjected.
“We’d love to have your help.” Zion said sincerely. “We need your intel.”
Clive continued to face the opposite wall. Pat figured he was trying to fix his face so it looked pretty again.
“For however long you all decide to be with us, we’d love to have you serve alongside us. Just know that none of these jobs are permanent and you are allowed to leave whenever you want. But we understand how hard it is to simply accept charity.” Zion said glancing at Harmony, who seemed mildly surprised at the statement. Zion pulled out some note cards from his pocket and began to pass them out to everybody. “These cards contain information about which volunteer jobs we have open along with times and locations. Pat and Clive, your job is already set. I hope you don’t mind.”
Pat accepted his card from Zion and glanced at it. As he had figured, his job title was Micro-Chip Technology Consultant and he would be working directly with Clive.
