Page 58 of Lovely Darkness

“Maybe?” Nate asks.

I shrug. “What is and isn’t bullshit isn’t the point.”

“Seems like a pretty good point to me,” Nate counters.

“Trust me,” I say. “It’s not the point. The point is… Well, the question is, did the Company think that they could achieve eternal life? Because belief is a powerful thing. If one believes in something, one goes looking for that something. And the answer to that question is yes. They very much did believe that eternal life was, if not possible, at the very least achievable.”

“How do you know that’s the answer?” Indie snarls.

“Because I’ve seen things, Indie. And Megan Machette was in on it.”

Indie is not convinced. “So? She wasn’t even a scientist from what I hear. Her father ran the lab.”

I put up both hands. “Fine. If you want to think this is all bullshit, be my guest. But again, your thoughts on it aren’t the point. The point is—did they think they could live forever?” Once again, Indie is ready to object, but I continue before she can. “No one cares what you think, Indie. But if they weren’t looking for the Fountain of Youth, then what’s your explanation for all this?” I pan my hand to the cages.

She stares at me for a moment, gives me a look I’m not able to decipher, then she shrugs. “Genetics, of course.”

“Genetics for…” I prompt her.

“Zero girls. That’s the point, Nick. Us.” She points to herself, then Wendy. “We’re the project.”

“I agree,” Nate says. “I think it’s the girls. I’ve seen enough nests, Nick. Most of them had a weird lab room that looked a lot like this. And it was all about the girls, not some pipe dream about eternal life.”

“I’m the one who sent you there, Nate. I know what was in the fuckin’ nests.”

“So why are you so stuck on this longevity thing?”

I glance over at Wendy, just now noticing that she’s awfully quiet. Which means she’s thinking. I look back at Nick and throw up my hands. “Fine. It’s genetics. The Zero girls are the project, and Donovan’s rats—”

“Carter’s rats!” Indie objects.

“—are all part of it. So what are we gonna do about this?” I nudge my chin towards the cages filled with rotting rat corpses.

“Clean it up, I guess,” Nate says. “I’ll talk to Adam about it.”

That wasn’t what I meant, but I decide I’ve said enough for now. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that both Indie and Nathan have such a high level of cognitive dissonance going on, but I am.

Wendy, on the other hand… she’s biting her lip and staring off into space.

She’s not buying it. Maybe she doesn’t think I’m right about this, but she’s definitely cooking up a counteropinion in that mind of hers.

We’ll discuss it tonight, when Indie and Nathan aren’t around.

I turn and walk down the hallway, then veer off down another one. This place really was a print shop at one time because all the equipment is still here. And from the dust and general lack of decomposition, it hasn’t been empty for more than a couple of years, if that. The front, where the rat cages are, qualifies as a major disaster area, but the back still looks fresh enough that one might call in a cleaning service and reopen in a matter of days.

I go into an office, look around a little, find nothing, and move on to another one. I do not find anything interesting until I find a door leading to a basement filled with filing cabinets. One has to love the old-school method of paper files when you’re on the hunt for information. It’s so much easier—and more satisfying—to find solid tangible evidence of what you’re looking for.

Most of the cabinets contain legit records from the many decades this print shop was in service. But there are two cabinets at the end with the data from the rat cages. Plus a desk that, when searched, gives up clues.

“Nick?”

“I’m down here.”

Wendy comes down the basement stairs pushing her long hair out of her eyes as she scans the rooms and logs it all like a little data-collection robot. “What did you find?”

I hold up the file in my hand. “Rats.”

She lets out a long breath and walks over to me, taking a seat on the corner of the desk.