Jean watched as the ambulance pulled up to the front of the admitting building, by means of the small road which passed over the awning, and came to a stop. Snow was falling, the wind was blowing, and the night was cold and bitter. After some slight confusion, the back of the vehicle opened up, and Jason leapt out, guiding the waif like boy Adam with his hands. Jean saw right away that this was one of their clones, although Jason had no way of knowing that. He looked to be worn out and starved, and Jean did not enjoy seeing the boy in this state. Jason was being clingy and protective, as she expected, shooing off the EMT’s and escorting Adam inside on his own. She slowly rose from her chair, and approached her brother and Adam. Jason noticed her coming, and smiled.
“Hey sis.” He said. “Waiting on me?”
“Yeah.” She said, partially telling the truth. “I’m also here with my mom. She wanted someone on hand to assist her, and picked me.” Again, partially true, but leaving out critical details.
“Jean, Adam. Adam, Jean.” The raven-haired boy smiled eagerly, and extended a hand.
“Hi.” He said meekly, Jean gripping his hand in greetings.
“Nice you meet you Adam.” She smiled. “I hear you’ve been through the ringer.”
“Been through the…?” He clearly did not comprehend, but it was of no important. Jean noticed that Grant and Frankie were now present, and Frankie was signing release documents and other dull forms.
“Hey.” Adam began “you were with Jason at Narrentum.” He said, prompting slight confusion in Grant.
“Huh?” He was at a loss, but quickly recalled seeing the word painted on the wall. “Yeah, right.” He said. “Narrentum. I saw that painted on the outside of the building; is that what you call it?”
“It’s what the other patients call it.” Adam said. “I don’t know why. The staff says it’s serenity, but the mask guy insists its Narrentum.”
“Mask guy?” Jean said confused.
“M.” Adam said. “We call him mask guy, he calls himself M. I guess it stands for Mask. He makes all these masks, out of anything he can find. The staff takes them away, but he just makes more.”
“You mean one of the patients, right?” Jason asked, trying to clear up the growing fog of confusion.
“Yeah.” He said. “He was there since before I was, or at least as far back as my memory goes. He told me he was there before me, and he remembered when they brought me in, but he says lots of weird stuff, so I didn’t know if it was true or not.”
“He wore masks all the time?” Jean asked.
“He tried.” Adam said. “But they just took them away. He didn’t talk a whole lot, and when he did, it didn’t make sense, so we weren’t sure what to think of him.” Jean noted that this boy seemed very lucid; that didn’t mean he wasn’t mentally ill, but he wasn’t low functioning or raving. Grant had mentioned how Adam was apparently being held there illegally, with no clear reason as to why, aside from the experiments. Their clones were not prone to mental illness, so it was more than obvious that he was probably nabbed by the Org,, rather than sent to Serenity through anything resembling official channels.
“So, he wore masks and called it Narrentum? Wild.” Jean said, at a loss for anything to say.
“Narrentum was a sanitarium in Vienna, centuries ago.” Frankie said, now finished with signing the documents. “Hi Adam, my name’s Frankie Ellis.” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her hand, and then returned his attention to her
“You’ll be safe here.” She said. “I’m a close friend of Jason, and I’m Grant’s wife. I promise you, no one will hurt you here.” She said; Adam was still visibly confused.
“Where am I?” He asked, with childlike innocence.
“This is Pine Hills Psychiatric Hospital.” She explained. “I own and operate it. Here, we’ll treat you,, and eventually release you. It will be nothing like what happened to you at Narrentum.” She said, using the term for reasons that escaped Jean, although in reality she was simply trying to earn his trust and put him at ease.
“Come on,” She said. “I’ll show you to your room. Jason, will you accompany us?”
--
Steve and Maureen were now well aware of what was happening stateside, and both were a mix of emotions, as was everyone else involved in this investigation. They had spoken to Agent Lynch, who brought them fully up to date. Their thoughts drifted to their son, whom was now involved on a personal level with this, but also to the horrific findings at Serenity. Maureen, for her part, could not stop thinking of the boxes full of bones, haphazardly sorted, a twisted trail of misery and death. Both of them had seen horrors, and being the leaders of Majestic-12, they were privy to grotesque secrets that would chill the blood of even the most hardened apartment Darwinist, but they still found themselves disturbed at many of these things.
“What should our response be?” Maureen asked, uncertain as to what action to take. As the highest ranking member, technically it was her call, but her and Steve led the group as equals, and right now she was at a loss as to what to do.
“I don’t know.” Steve said. “But it needs to send a clear message that this sort of barbarism will not be tolerated.” He said, sitting down at his laptop.
“We can start in the open first.” She said, referring to the staff of the hospital. “Prosecute them with extreme prejudice. Make it clear what went on there, save the details which could expose our world, and make it clear to the world that anyone doing this sort of thing will not be given a slap on the wrist.”
“It’s high time for that.” Steve said. “Abuses in facilities like this often get overlooked, and no one ever goes to jail, even when death is involved.” He closed his laptop, putting it in to sleep mode. “It’s time to do something about that. After this is finished, every potential Nurse Ratched in the country will be scared stiff, unable to even contemplate carrying out these acts.”
“Then we take care of the Org, again.” She said, weary of this repeating cycle. “We’ve done all we can to smoke them out, but they keep kidding in the shadows and the dirt. I saw we identify some facilities, target them with tactical strikes, and wipe them off the map. We can follow that up with prosecutions of some of their pawns; if we can’t find charges to bring in to the open, we’ll plant some evidence.” She said, filled with determination. “However it works out, the message will be very clear.”
--
“This is the art room.” Frankie said, leading Adam on a tour of the young adult ward of the hospital. “We have sessions in here twice a week.” The trio turned and left the room, walking down the hallway and towards the day room of the ward.
“That’s about it.” She said to Adam, who was glancing around at the plush surroundings; it was nothing like the cold halls of Serenity, where the paint was peeling from the stained walls and the floor was covered in stains of blood and urine. This place looked more like a five star hotel.
“Did you build this place?” Adam asked, curiously.
“No, I inherited it.” She said. “From my mentor, who went on to do other things. I worked here under her,, and she wanted to make sure it was run by someone who could give it the fullest amount of attention, as well as know how to run it. It had been in her family for generations, but she had no children, and always said I was like the daughter she never had, so it went to me.”
The doors to the day room swung open, although it was empty and quiet now, as the hour was late and everyone was in bed. A few nurses were seated at the station, and the lights were dimmed.
“Mrs. Ellis.” One of the nurses called to her. “The room is ready.” She said; the staff had been preparing a room for Adam while Frankie was giving him a tour.
“This way.” She said, leading Adam and Jason to the end of a long hallway, where the male dorms were located. The last room on the left was where Adam was housed; no one else was staying in here, she explained, so Adam had the room to himself for the moment. She opened the door, revealing a rather comfortable looking room with a bed, nightstand, a bolted down lamp, and an armchair. There was a pile of clothing on the bed, for Adam to change in to, as he was wearing the same hospital scrubs he had on since the previous day. There was a brown, plush bat sitting on the bed, and Jason wondered about it’s origin.
“This is your room.” Frankie said. “There’s not a whole lot to it, but it’s comfortable. There’s no window, but other than that, it should be fine.” Adam took a few steps in to the room, Jason following him. He smiled, looking at his new surroundings, finding them very pleasant.
“Thank you.” He said, turning to Frankie and Jason.
“Think nothing of it.” She said. “Listen, it’s very late, and I need to get some sleep. You should too. There are clothes for you on the bed, so change in to those and get some sleep.”
“Will you be back?” Adam asked, looking to Jason.
“Sure, I’ll come back tomorrow evening.” He said, smiling. He had no intention of cutting Adam off at this point, although he was still a tornado of emotion about this entire situation.
“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Frankie said. “We’ll go over your case and decide on a course of treatment. Until then, get some rest kid.” She said, smiling, and leaving the room. Jason nodded, and with a wink, he turned around and left the room as well, closing the door behind him.
--
Jason and Frankie walked down the hall in silence, until the redhead finally broke it.
“There’s concern that you’re getting too attached.” She said, simply. Jason’s face gave no indication of what he was thinking, but at the moment he was simply tired, and unsure of how to respond.
“I’m not.” He denied the assertion. “I’m just doing what any decent person would do.”
“That may be.” She said. “But you know you have a tendency to try and fix broken boys.” She said. He said nothing in response.
“I’m involved with this investigation, and he’s an integral part of that.” Jason said, trying to insist his involvement was purely an extension of the investigation.
“Sure.” Frankie said, with a grin. “But you can’t help trying to put someone back together once they’re broken. It’s your namesake, after all.” She said, half joking.
“My name has nothing to do with it.” He said dryly. “Besides, what does it matter to any of you?”
“Because you’re important to us, and no one wants to see you heartbroken once again.” She stated. “Adam is my patient, and so are you, at least irregularly. I have to look out for you both.”
“Maybe our interaction with each other will benefit us, then.” He said, trying to turn her reasoning around on her.
“It could be.” She said. “I think you both have a lot to learn from each other.” Frankie dashed his hopes of tripping her up by agreeing with him.
“Then, I guess that settles that.” Jason said, hoping to end this annoying line of discussion.
“Maybe.” She said. “Just take it slowly getting to first base.” She said mischievously, causing him to blush slightly. She still knew how to get the best of him.
“I need to get home. Grant and me are worn out. You look like you could use some rest yourself. Go home and get to sleep, kiddo.” She said, patting Jason’s shoulders.
--
Adam sat on the edge of the bed, wearing his new, clean, slightly oversized pajamas. They were a plain blue color, with a pocket on the right breast, and white buttons down the front. His old clothes had been left in the trashcan, as he knew of nowhere else to put them; he hoped he didn’t do anything wrong. He thought to himself that it was nice to be wearing something that was washed, and did not smell of urine. The bed was much softer than what he was used to, and he noted the lack of restraints on it. The room seemed to have a large vent near the ceiling, next to the doorway, which meant it did not smell stale and confined. He was thirsty, but was unsure what to do about it. Leaving rooms at night in Narrentum was frowned upon, and could earn you sedation or worse, depending on the mood the staff was in. This place seemed different, however, so he decided to go in search of a water fountain. The door was not locked, and slowly slid open without any creaking. He peeked down the empty hall, and was stuck by how simple the layout was; this place wasn’t a maze like Narrentum. He softly padded down the hall, and in to the large day room. He saw a few nurses at the station, mostly looking bored, with a few doing paperwork. A tech was also walking about, and moving towards Adam; he was surprised when the tech simply walked past him and headed to a storage closet, as if he had not even noticed him. No harassment, no questions, nothing. Adam slowly approached the front desk, and got the attention of a young nurse with wild green hair.
“Excuse me?” He asked, softly. She looked up from a book and smiled.
“Hi there.” She said. “What can I do for you?”
This was, indeed, not like Narrentum, just as Frankie had said.
“Um, I’m thirsty.” He stated, a bit frozen by the strangeness of his new home.
“I’ll get you some water.” She said, leaving her seat and walking to a water cooler. She had sit her book down, and Adam looked at the title; ‘The Extended Phenotype.’ It had a blueish grey cover that seemed to shine like metal, and a few circular pictures of animals. He wondered what the title meant, until the nurse returned with a small paper cup full of cold water.
“Here you go.” She said, handing it to him. “Need anything else?” He shook his head.
“Thank you.” He said, turning and walking away. The nurse returned to her book. Adam noted to himself how similar that nurse looked to the blonde girl, Jean, and wondered if they were related.
--
“Why the hell are you here?” Jason said, with some irritation, to Jean, who had followed him from Pine Hills to his apartment. “I am not getting in over my head.”
“Who said you were?” She said, rubbing her hands together as Jason slid the keycard through the reader at the front of the building.
“Everyone.” He said. “they don’t have to say it, they’re thinking it, and that’s enough.” He said, pushing the door open, walking in to the warmth of the apartment building.
“I don’t need you here to look after me.” He said, heading up the stairs.
“OF course not.” She said. “I just thought you might like to spend some relaxing quality time with your baby sister after being involved in such a gruesome case.” She said, smiling, as she followed him up to his apartment. Another keycard was used to open the door, leading to his spacious home. Jason took off his overcoat and hung it on a wall-mounted rack, and then switched on the lights. Jean removed her coat and followed him in, sitting her bag on the kitchen counter as they walked past it, Jason sitting on the leather sofa in the center of the living room, resting his face in his gloved hands, and catching his breath; this was the first time he had to relax ever since changing that stupid tire on the car Monday afternoon. Ever since he and Grant had set foot in Serenity, it had been a nonstop assault of disaster, work, angst, and everything else that had made up the series of unusual events that had put them in this position. Jean took a seat on the opposing sofa and put her feet on the glass coffee table, making herself at home, not bothering to remove her shoes. Jason looked up, and glanced around the room, unsure of what to do. He was starving, and decided that was a good point at which to start, so he walked over to the phone, which sat next to the T.V., and picked it up. Jean leaned her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes, unsure of what she should do now that she was here; her assignment was, in short, to keep Jason from becoming an emotional wreck. Beyond that, there weren’t many specifics. Jason returned to the couch after ordering a pizza, and sat down, saying nothing. He removed his cell phone from his jacket pocket and sat it on the table, and then removed a notepad and a deck of playing cards.
6.
Wednesday, the 25th.
Agent Lynch rubbed his temples and held his eyes shut, finding that his sleep the previous night was fitful and troubled. He opened his eyes, and saw a cup of coffee before him, which he had not touched. It sat on the counter of the front desk of the main reception area of their quarry; Serenity. They had arrived at 7 a.m., and were back to work on uncovering the secrets of this place, of which there were many left to tell. Agent Carpenter stood next to him, beside a box, which contained a few specific pieces of evidence that he found noteworthy and wanted to examine personally, while the rest of the pertinent evidence from the facility was being sent to other teams. He was holding a human skull, which was incomplete; the front had been removed, chipped or sawed off, by one f the tools in the basement.
“Curious.” Agent Carpenter said. “It’s the only one like this, and it was almost certainly intentional.” Agent Lynch could tell his partner was wondering if there was some significance to this, but he had given up understanding this whole situation himself.
“I think the people who did this were fucked in the head.” He observed, followed by a long drink from his coffee.
“Well, I suppose that goes without saying.” Agent Carpenter solemnly observed.
“Yeah,” Agent Lynch replied. “But I don’t expect us to make much sense of why these people did what they were doing. At first I thought we might, but now, it seems like most of this was just cruelty for it’s own sake.” He said, sitting his drink down, and looking at the items in the box, which consisted of a long serrated blade that was sharply curved, several vials of unidentified liquid, some syringes, and a pile of documents.
“Cruelty for it’s own sale?” Agent Carpenter said, sitting the skull in the box. “You think people can really be that one dimensional?”
“I think there’s ample precedent for it in human history.” He said, taking another drink, and then lowering the cup, gazing at it. “We accept that people can be greedy, selfish, caring, all without any hand wringing over whether or not it’s true.”
“But still,” Agent Carpenter began. “If they are like that, something made them that way to begin with, didn’t it?”
“We aren’t blank slates.” Agent Lynch said. “But even someone who was otherwise good, who had no predisposition to this kind of behavior, could be turned to it, I suppose.” He said, picking up a latex glove and pulling it over his hand. “Besides, how can nature and nurture be opposing explanations if they work in tandem?” reaching in to the box, he fished out a document that caught his eye, and looked over it.
“What the hell is this?” He asked, looking over it; rather than an official hospital document, it was a small piece of paper torn from a notebook, or something similar. It was a listing of words starting with the latter M, and a lot of related scribbling.
“Oh, I found that in the meat grinder room.” Agent Carpenter said, looking at it. “Someone had a thing for the letter M, it seems.”
--
Adam sat at a table in the day room, scribbling on a piece of paper. Someone had left it and a few crayons there, and Adam had absent-mindedly begun drawing on them. He was drawing the same symbol over and over, for no specific reason; he just liked the way it looked. He wondered when he would next see Frankie and Jason, and he also wondered about this new home. Everyone seemed much happier here, much more relaxed, and no one was scared or hiding in the shadows. The staff acted differently, and mostly kept to themselves unless they were needed for something. No one was in a straitjacket, no one was sitting in their own filth, and no one was bleeding or being beaten. It was much calmer and safer here, more than he ever thought possible, since his only memories were of Narrentum. He knew he should remember more, but it was fuzzy, and he found it confusing to think about. His head did feel clearer than he was used too, however, and he wondered why.
--
Agent Carpenter carried yet another box out of the building, as Agent Lynch was on the phone with Faireborne.
“Yeah, we keep finding all kinds of weird crap.” He explained to the director. “I just saw Dave bring a box full of…masks, or something, out of the building.”
“Masks? How much long do you think this is going to take?”
“Honestly sir, your guess is as good as mine.” He said, walking towards agent Carpenter. “We have people taking apart all the stuff in the walls and under the floors, making charts of what was where, and we’re just getting started on all the stuff in the basement. This could take some time.”
“Keep on it, agent.” Will said. “Keep me appraised as well.”
Hanging up, Agent Lynch turned his attention to the box of false faces.
“What the hell is this?” He asked, looking at what seemed to be a large collection of paper mache masks.
“We found this in a storage room; seems they were made by a single patient, according to the sign on the bin they were stored in. A, “Mr. M.””
“M? Could that have some connection to that paper in the basement?”
“It’s possible.” Agent Carpenter said, lifting one of the masks from the box and looking it over. It was white, with red paint splattered over it, like blood, and appeared to be of a man wearing a powdered wig.
“Looks like a fairly standard material, newspaper I would guess.” He said, examining the mask. “Probably about twenty or so of these masks in here.”
--
Jason stood in the kitchen, warming up cold pizza from the previous evening, as Jean, whom had invited herself to stay the night, sat in the living room playing Smash Bros. Melee.
“As much as I enjoy your company,” Jason began, as he removed the plate from the oven. “I need to meet up with Grant. We have a case.”
“You have the day off.” She said, not bothering to turn around. Jason stood there for a moment, before finally responding.
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” She replied. “You have the day off. I called Will and asked, and he said it was a good idea. This way, you can go see your new crush at Pine Hills.” Once again, she did not bother to turn around.
“Okay, first off, don’t interfere with my schedule without asking me. Actually, don’t mess with it period. Second, me and Grant have a lot to do, and this will set us back considerably. Third, I do not have a crush on Adam.”
“Already memorized his name and everything.” Jean said, teasingly.
“What? It’s a common name, it doesn’t take much to recall it!” He protested, hunger now replaced with annoyance.
“I wonder if he likes boxers or briefs?” She asked, ignoring Jason’s comment. He simply rolled his eyes in response, but he had been wondering about such things regardless.
“I bet he needs some new clothes.” Jean said. “Let’s get him a day pass and take him shopping.”
“Jean, I think he has more important things to spend his time on than his wardrobe.” Jason said, pouring himself a glass of lime juice.
“So, you want to condemn him to spend all his time in this regulation hospital pajamas?” She asked. “Or do you just think he looks cute and sexy in them?”
“I haven’t even seen him in those yet! Jean, I thought you were concerned with me getting to close and winding up heartbroken? Why are you now acting like you want to play matchmaker?”
Jean grinned, delighted that her approach was working; she was indeed playing matchmaker, since he had it in her mind that getting her brother in a stable relationship was a good idea, and having thought it over, she knew Adam, being of the same programming as her and Jason, was predisposed to a certain stability, regardless of what the Org had been trying to do to him. She figured the best way to solve this problem was to set the two boys up.
“Well, I just had a change of heart.” She said, turning the Gamecube off and standing up, facing Jason for the first time since he had entered the living room.
“So, what do you say?” She asked, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Let’s take Adam shopping for something nice to wear that will make him the fashion queen of the psych ward.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“You astound me sometimes.” Jason said, placing his now empty plate and glass in the sink. “Okay, let’s take him shopping.” Jason said, heading for the door. “You coming or not?”
“Hold on.” Jean said, grabbing Jason by the arm. “We can’t do it with you dressed like that.” She said, looking at his attire of a black Armani suit.
“What’s wrong with this?” He said. “Do you have any idea how much it cost?”
“Too much.” She said, pulling him towards the bedroom. “We need to make you look hotter and more casual to get his attention. Then, we’ll stop by my place to get an outfit for him to wear, since we look about the same size.”
--
Frankie sat at her desk, fiddling with the videocamera, which was connected to her laptop. She was going to record her session with Adam. He was due to arrive any moment, and she was strangely enthusiastic about it; she actually got a rush from undoing the kind of harm he had suffered. She wasn’t always successful, but Pine Hills was known for it’s high success rate in treating mental illness. All she had to do now was hit record, and it would begin. There was a knock on the door, and then it opened, with Adam peeking in from outside. Frankie saw him and shot him a smile, getting one in return.
“Can I come in?” He asked sheepishly.
“Of course sweetie.” She said, sitting up in her chair. “Have a seat.” She instructed, prompting him to sit down. He was holding a piece of paper tightly.
“What’s they you have there?” She asked. He glanced down at it with some surprise, as if he had forgotten he was holding it.
“Oh, I was just scribbling on it.” He said, sitting it in his lap.
“May I see?” She asked, wondering if it would offer any insight. With a smile, he handed it to her, and she looked over what he had drawn. It was the same geometric pattern, over and over, in various sizes. She thought it looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place where she had seen it before.
“What is this?” She asked, curiously.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He said. “I saw it somewhere, at Narrentum, but I can’t recall where. I just like the way it looks.”
She handed it back to him, and made a mental note to follow up on that later, maybe ask Grant is he saw anything similar to the symbol.
“Well, Adam, how did you sleep last night?” She asked.
“Okay, I guess.” He said. “It was nice being able to move around. At Narrentum, usually, you’re strapped down. And if you aren’t, you get in trouble for leaving the room.” He explained.
“I see.” She said. This was going to be a difficult story to hear, of that she was sure. She wanted to break the ice and make some small talk before starting the session.
“I hope you’re happy with your surroundings.” She said. His face beamed.
“I am.” He said, meekly. “It’s so much nicer here, and everyone is nice to me. I haven’t seen anyone hurt or anything at all.”
“Well, you won’t see any of that here.” She promised him. “Now, we’re going to do our interview, and I’m going to record it for future reference. Is that okay with you?”
“Uh, I guess.” He said, unsure of exactly what she meant. He looked at the camera, but seemed to give it no mind after a single glance.
“Okay,” She said. “Let’s begin.”
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