Perfection

her ear. “I promise, nothing will happen.”

Keeping her eyes on Woody, Ellyssa stepped into the crate. His encouraging half-smile did nothing to make her feel better. Without any other recourse, she lay down. Tim closed the lid and she was instantly submerged in darkness.

Despite her calm demeanor, panic bloomed throughout her body. Her heart stuttered for a second before it picked up speed and pounded against her breastbone. Her breathing increased dramatically. An incredible desire to get the hell of that crate overwhelmed her.

It took every bit of self-control Ellyssa had not to flip the latch. The latch. Closing her eyes, she focused on the small contraption that led to freedom. Knowing it was there helped to ease her frantic mind. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, over and over, until the beat of her heart slowed.

Times like these, Ellyssa understood and appreciated the need for suppression. She had to maintain control.

She felt the box lift and skid across the van bed as Tim positioned the container. A short while later, the engine fired up and they were moving.

The rocking of the van was lulling. On more than one occasion during the drive into town, the soft lure of sleep tempted her, but she couldn’t afford the luxury. She had to concentrate on the next leg of their journey.

To find Rein.

38

Rein wasn’t exactly sure where he was, but he assumed it was The Center. Detective Petersen had mentioned the place when she’d thought him asleep. She’d had also scared the hell out of him when she’d been tracing the outlines of his face with the gun. Definitely bat-shit crazy.

The Center felt like what Rein had heard about hospitals. Disinfectant lingered in the air, and everything was white. Shiny white walls and floors, no pictures, no inviting furniture, nothing with color. Even the man who sat at the desk had whitish-silver hair, cut short and neat, and wore a white coat over a white shirt.

The man busied himself with files. He appeared much younger than his actual age, if Rein were to judge by his silvery hair. The tendons of his neck stood out when he moved his arms, suggesting powerful muscles, and the sculpted features of his face were as smooth and flawless as that of someone in his early thirties.

For the most part, the man in the lab coat ignored him, occasionally glancing up as if to ensure Rein hadn’t moved. The only words he’d spoken to the detective had been in German, Rein assumed, after she had Rein seated and secured to the chair, one ankle tied to each leg and hands wrenched painfully behind his back.

Whatever the man said hadn’t made the detective happy. She’d stormed out of the room like a petulant child. Rein imagined she was upset about having the privilege of knocking him around revoked. Perhaps she was afraid the man in the lab coat would take his turn, stealing on her fun.

Rein snickered and the man looked up. His face showed no emotion at all, blank and unreadable. It was a look Rein recognized. The snicker died on his lips. The man resumed his previous job of ignoring the prisoner.

As an undetermined number of minutes ticked away, the muscles in Rein’s neck and shoulders began to cramp from staying in the same position for so long. He moved his head from side to side. His tendons pulsed under a spasm. Hissing, he stretched his neck by placing his chin on his chest, but that proved to be a mistake. The muscle seized, and he groaned as he attempted to raise his head.

Damn, it hurt.

The man stood and approached him. He was larger than he’d appeared behind the desk, and his face still held the same absence of expression. His eyes said something, though. They were the same color as Ellyssa’s, and hardness sizzled within their depths. Afraid the man in the lab coat had one of the secret talents Ellyssa had told them about, Rein sucked in a breath and held it.

“Nice to meet you, Rein. Please accept my apologies for the extreme treatment you had to endure. Detective Petersen can be quite…uncouth, at times. I hope your injuries are not too unbearable.”

The man spoke politely, his speech clear and sharp, and with a slight accent like Ellyssa’s. He reached in the pocket of his lab coat and extracted a bottle of pills.

“I am sure you can understand the need for precautions, though,” he said, offering three round tablets and a glass of water.

Eyeing the medication, Rein shook his head. “No, thank you.”

The man closed his fist and the pills disappeared. “Suit yourself.”

“Who are you?” he muttered, through gritted teeth, pain stabbing his neck.

“You do not know? I assumed, with my daughter’s mental breakdown, you would know.” The man smiled, but it wasn’t one that extended friendship. This smile was cold and calculating.

“Dr. Hirch?”

He nodded. “Now, of course, Rein, I am going to need some information from you.”

“I have none to give you.”

“I am ever so sorry to hear that.” The doctor returned to his desk and pushed a red button. “It is regrettable that Ellyssa is not here. If she were, we really would not have to go through all this unpleasantness. She would read your mind and tell me what I needed to know.”

“Maybe at one time.”

Anger flickered across Dr. Hirch’s face, shadowing the sharp contours of his cheekbones, but as soon as the emotion appeared it was gone. His features blanked as he regarded Rein.

“Yes. I understand from Micah that something has transpired between you two. Rather unfortunate. She is amongst my prized creations.”

“She’s a person.”

“By all accounts, she does fit the criteria. But she is so much more. You, brought up in your closed-minded environment, would be too blind to appreciate her talents. With her, the possibilities are endless.”

“What possibilities would that be? Murdering innocents?”

For a moment, Dr. Hirch looked as if Rein had slapped him. “Ahh, Ellyssa has informed you of things better left secret.” The doctor tsked disapprovingly. “But murder is incorrect. ‘Cleansing’ would be a more appropriate word. There is a difference.”

“You can call it what you want. But in my eyes, there is no difference.”

“You have no vision of perfection.”

“Perfection? People, in themselves, are perfect. Creativity, emotions, the innate quest to find the truth—these are things which evolved humans. All of them. Not just what you choose. Natural selection is what made our species unique and successful in nature.”

“The innate quest for truth is what brings us visionaries, like Hitler,” the doctor replied, his voice no longer matching his demeanor. “Crime is almost nonexistent, as are humans with physical or mental handicaps.”

He strolled back to his desk and picked up the file he had been previously studying, then waved it at Rein. “The transference of imperfect genetic code is what caused the maladies of humanity. People were too stupid to realize their mistakes. They kept reproducing genetic failures. Hospitals were full, causing financial hardships; prisons and asylums were filled with undesirables, and mortality rates were skyrocketing. Heart disease, cancer, deformities of the body and mind. They all took their toll.

“You speak of natural selection as if you understand the concept. Natural selection is how we gained the intelligence to select the appropriate DNA sequences. Because of our visionaries, of our intelligence…” Dr. Hirch paused for a moment. “Because of my intelligence. We were able to accelerate the process to the point human beings would eventually attain. We are smarter and physically stronger, and our life spans are longer.

“Look at me,” he continued, patting his chest. “I am an old man by yesterday’s standards. Most men of seventy would be past the age when they could contribute to society. But I…I function as a thirty-year-old. I am one of the first successes. Everyone will soon be like me.” A wild glimmer sparked in his eyes, and he paused to recompose himself. “Actually, better than me.”