“I think he’s asleep,” he said.
“No such luck,” she said. “He was just talking to me. He apologized.”
Kim walked down the porch steps and leaned against the wooden post that supported the handrail. “Good. I know he was scared, but...”
Val didn’t say anything. She looked down at the ground at the base of the steps, at the overgrown grass around the edges of the porch. She needed to weed this part of the yard.
After a while, Kim said, “It’s okay.”
Now she looked at him. He wore a patient expression.
“I know it’s okay.”
She hadn’t meant for it to, but that stung him. He winced.
“I just...” he said. “I just didn’t want you to worry about me being angry.”
Her face burned, only partly from having downed almost an entire mug of hot coffee.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She had been worried that Kim would be hurt, but she had also been preparing herself to be angry that he was angry. He had no right to be bitter at her for the feelings she’d once had for Asa.
Or did he? If she were being honest with herself, she couldn’t say for sure. Val had it in her to be a jealous person, but Kim had no past loves. He’d never really even dated anyone before he met Val. Hell, he had been a virgin when they met.
She stood, descended the steps, and put her arms around his thin waist, which even after a decade and a half of marriage was still hard. “I don’t think... I don’t think about him very often.”
“I know,” said Kim, but his heart was beating harder than normal.
She stepped back, keeping her hands on his waist, and looked right at him.
“And I never wish I could have...” What was wrong with her? She couldn’t even bring herself to say that I could be with him.
“I know that, too,” said Kim.
She put her arms around him again and laid her head on his shoulder. Her face nuzzled in his throat, she breathed him in. That was when she heard the buzzing noise.
“Do you hear that?” she said. It sounded like a saw in the distance.
“What is that?” said Kim. He let go of her and turned.
It wasn’t a saw. It was a whining sound like a propeller coming up the drive through the woods. A pair of slowly blinking red lights appeared, following the driveway toward the house.
“Oh, fuck,” said Val.
“Hello,” said a male voice. “Hello? Dr. Kimiya Hara? Valerie Hara? My name is Austin Wayne.” The voice sounded tinny, like it was coming from a small speaker.
“Drone,” said Val. The lights drew closer. In the dim morning light, Val could barely make out the small black and gray shape moving toward them.
“My name is Austin Wayne, and I’m—”
“We heard you the first time,” Val said. “What do you want?”
The drone stopped about ten yards from them, hovering at eye level. A camera lens on the front stared at them. “I’d like to talk to you for just a minute. I won’t take much of your time. Would you mind opening the front gate?” Another pause. “I don’t see a... a... I don’t see a way to open it unless you come down here. I hate to put you to a lot of trouble.”
“We’re talking right now,” said Kim. “What can we do for you?”
“At this time of morning,” added Val.
Pause. The drone shifted backwards and to the left slightly.
“We had an anonymous report that there was a child wandering the woods in this area,” said the voice. “I know that you don’t have any children. We were just wondering if you’d seen anyone—”
“My cousin’s son was here with us recently,” Val said. “Just visiting. He’s the only child we’ve had on our property.”
Another pause.
“Do you have a cousin, Ms. Hara?” said the voice. The drone turned its eye directly at her again. “Our records show both your parents were only children.”
Dammit. “Our records.” Val had fought, suffered, and nearly died for a country that kept records on its own people and sent drones over fences to interrogate them. To make sure that they don’t have kids. The same country that had forced contraceptive implants on teenage girls and “Safe Reproductive Practices” on the world.
“She’s my friend,” said Val, the correction sounding lame. “I’ve always thought of her as my cousin.”
“I see,” said the voice, a pleasant lift in his tone suddenly. “What is your friend’s name?”
“I think it’s time for you to go,” said Kim. “We’ve got a lot of work to do this morning.”
The camera pointed at him for a moment. Then it turned toward the house. Val imagined she could see an eye behind it. It aimed at the upper floor and seemed to scan from one side to the other. Then it did the same with the bottom floor.
“I’m sorry to take up so much of your time,” said the voice, but the camera was still aimed at the house. “Have a good day.”
The drone backed away. It turned around slowly, scanning the yard, and then headed back down the dirt drive until it disappeared into the woods.
Only now did Val realize that her knees were trembling.
Janna Kord. That stupid fucking bitch.
5
Bowen didn’t like keeping the Anomalies locked up in a bunker. A hundred feet underground. He didn’t like that they had to live in cells. Cells that could put them to sleep instantly with a sedative gas. He didn’t like that they mostly interacted with people through a video monitor. He didn’t like it that two beautiful women like Celina and Theresa were going to waste underground. He didn’t like the fact that he would die in a little less than a year. June 17. 9:00 a.m.
Bowen didn’t like a lot of things.
Situated in the deep part of the Appalachians a few hours northwest of Durham, the Paul Singer Institute for Genetics and Mental Health Research was a good place for someone like Bowen. Away from the distractions of the city. Completely off the grid. No cell phones or wearables. No internet access. No outside phone calls. Away from his wife, Kelly, whom he had married mostly because she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t mind a busy husband. She wanted affairs without having to come home and feel guilty, so it wasn’t a problem that he dedicated himself to his work.
It was a game that the two of them played. Bowen had Morgan, and Kelly had... well, whoever she had. Bowen didn’t know. But he never went home unannounced. And Kelly always made sure her affairs were hidden. No evidence. No embarrassment. The two of them would spend a few days pretending that they liked to sleep with each other. Then he would go back to work. Back to Morgan. And Kelly would go back to her life without him. It was a decent system. These days, though, Bowen had a hard time remembering what benefit he got from it. There were tax benefits, he supposed. And though she didn’t know it yet, Kelly wouldn’t have to put up with him much longer, anyway.