25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
S kye
The door to Laura’s office clicks shut behind me, sealing us in a bubble of privacy. Laura and I made an appointment to meet for breakfast. She has a spread of coffee and pastries on half of her desk and papers stacked high on the other.
Laura’s smile is warm but tired as she gestures for me to take a seat. The room feels tense, though I can’t put my finger on why.
“How’s your father doing?” I ask, settling into the plush chair across from her desk.
Laura’s shoulders relax slightly. “Much better, thank you. The doctors say he’s recovering well from the myocardial infarction—a heart attack. It was touch and go for a while, but he’s a fighter. He had a bypass and is recovering well.”
“A fighter, just like his daughter,” I tease, earning a genuine laugh.
We chat about her trip, the conversation drifting to the compound they’re planning in Missouri. “It’ll be a sanctuary,” Laura explains, her face brightening with enthusiasm. “A place for all the men to adjust before joining the modern world. We’re thinking about educational facilities since most slaves are illiterate, therapy spaces, therapy animals, maybe even a small arena for them to exercise and spar, to ease the transition.”
“That sounds amazing,” I agree, my mind already picturing Thrax in this safe haven. “Speaking of transitions… how do you think Thrax is doing?”
Laura’s smile turns knowing. “I think he’s doing remarkably well, thanks in no small part to you. Your growing feelings for each other haven’t exactly been subtle.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone with eyes,” she teases. “But I think it’s wonderful. Thrax seems like a genuinely gentle soul despite everything he’s been through. You’re good for each other.”
I’m about to respond when I notice a flicker of worry cross Laura’s face. She glances toward the door, then back at me.
When she launches into a story about traveling the back roads of Missouri, I can tell she’s just filling the time, not wanting to talk about what’s really on her mind.
“Laura?” I interrupt. “Is something bothering you?”
Her gaze darts from mine as the corners of her lips turn down. I don’t ask another question, but I sit in silence, which seems to encourage her to fill in the gap.
Finally, she asks, “Have you noticed the increased security lately?”
Frowning, I shake my head. “No, I hadn’t. Distracted, I guess. Is everything okay?”
Laura sighs, her earlier enthusiasm evaporating. “Right after Varro and I discovered the thirteen other men frozen in the trench in the sea, as I was arranging for them to be retrieved, I was also gathering resources for the help we would need to thaw them and treat them when—if—they revived. Because of the need for secrecy, I only gave bits and pieces of info to the people I was vetting to work on the project. Enough to whet their appetite without giving away the startling truth.”
She reaches for a cruller and puts it on her plate but doesn’t take a bite.
“I approached many doctors and scientists who didn’t want to touch the project, one of whom was Dr. Victor Roth. He asked more questions than most, then turned down the job.”
A knot forms in my stomach. “Okay… so what’s changed?”
“He’s reached out to me,” Laura says, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. “His email was full of veiled questions, but… Skye, I think he knows more than he should. He keeps referring to the men—which I never mentioned. He actually calls them ‘specimens’.”
Thinking of anyone calling Varro and Thrax specimens gives me the creeps. It’s dehumanizing.
“Although he hasn’t exactly said it out loud, he wants access to them. This could be disastrous.”
The knot in my stomach tightens. “But how could he know? And what does he want?”
Laura’s hands tremble as she pulls up an email on her computer. “I don’t know for certain, but his language… it’s clear he sees the men as research subjects, not people. He talks about ‘unlocking the secrets of their preservation’ and ‘advancing human knowledge’.”
“That’s horrible,” I breathe, thinking of Thrax and the other men still waiting to be revived. “What are you going to do?”
Laura’s eyes meet mine, and the fear I see there chills me. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, Skye. We’ve already increased security, and I’m doing a deeper dive on all the staff’s background checks. You never know, there could be a leak from the inside. All I know is that I’m afraid… I’m terrified it’s going to put the me n in danger. All of them.”
The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air between us. My mind races with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. What if he exposes their existence to the world before they’re ready? What if Roth makes a political move to take over the project? I’d never say a word to Laura, but having an archaeologist in charge of what is now basically a medical and sociological project is a vulnerability that a nefarious person could take advantage of.
Laura must see the worry on my face, because she adds, “The good thing is, I trust Keller implicitly. Our new head of security has military experience and an impressive track record. He’s already implementing enhanced protocols to protect the facility and is drilling down into everyone’s background checks.”
As I leave Laura’s office, despite her confidence in the security team, my steps feel heavier, my heart racing with newfound anxiety. The sanctuary of the hospital suddenly seems far more fragile and uncertain than it was when I went to sleep last night.