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"What, exactly, am I being operated on for?" James Lee asked.
"It's just a little exploratory operation, James. We're looking-inside you.
Believe me, you won't feel a thing."
The antiseptic smell was strong in the operating theater, and the constant
pinging sounds of medical equipment made everything a little too real. For a
moment James Lee's fear almost got the best of him. He had an impulse to say,
"Forget it. I've changed my mind."
Then a deep voice directly above him said, "On my count."
He felt hands under him, two sets of strong male hands.
"One, two, three. Upsy-daisy, James."
He was lifted easily onto the table and immediately covered with thin flannel
sheets.
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A nurse then swabbed a vein inside his left elbow with alcohol and pierced the
skin with a needle. The IV drip began.
"You feeling okay, Mr. Lee?"
It was Dr. Kane, who always inspired supreme confidence in James. The doctor
had a sculpted, muscular physique-even his hand felt hard and unyielding when
he placed it on [119] the young man's shoulder. The face looming above him was
square and tanned beneath a blond layered cut. Intelligence radiated from the
clear bright blue eyes. Dr. Kane was a real winner.
"I'm fine," said James Lee as a nurse fitted a metal helmet over his shaved
head. "This really isn't going to hurt?"
"Not at all. Your tape is sensational, by the way. The best we've seen yet."
33 JAMES LEE COULDN'T BELIEVE what was happening inside his head. Wow! This
was close to perfect. Just what he had imagined. Maybe even better! He
clenched and unclenched his fists and prepared himself for his debut. This was
the best!
He was on the stage of the world-famous Starlight Lounge in Las Vegas. In his
mind, anyway. But it felt as if he were really there.
And he was ready. Oh man, was he ready.
This was his tape! He'd been fantasizing about this exact scene for years.
God, this was exactly what he'd had in mind.
Lee ran his small hands down the fitted bodice of his strapless white cocktail
dress and flounced the layered organza skirt. He pressed his freshly
lipsticked lips together and touched his lacquered bouffant hairstyle.
Everything was so right. So real.
[121] Suddenly, a pin light in the ceiling came on and illuminated him with a
small blue light. There was the rustling sound of people shifting in their
seats and ohs of surprise coming from the audience. Hundreds of pairs of eyes
were trained on him.
The opening notes from the orchestra rose from the pit and spilled onto the
stage-followed by a dominant seventh chord that served as the transition from
the intro to the main melody.
His tape was even better than he'd imagined. Fuller and richer.
James Lee heard the gasps and the moans of the audience as the stage lights
blazed. Through the smoky haze, he could see friends and family who'd come to
see him perform. There was his mother smiling up at him from the front row.
She'd always had faith in him. Man, he was about to prove himself to the one
person who really loved him.
Lee slowly raised the mike to his mouth. Then with a breathy Astrud Gilberto
voice, he began a song made famous by the incomparable Brenda Lee.
"I'm sorry, so sorry... that I was such a fool."
Jesus, he sounded great, too. The audience in the Starlight Lounge was eating
him up. How could they not?
"Mr. Lee? Jimmy."
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Someone was interrupting his performance. James Lee's head snapped around. It
was a friendly, authoritative voice that seemed to speak inside his head!
"Ground control to James. Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee. Oh, Mr. Lee?"
Now he remembered. This was a medical procedure. The stage show was all in his
mind-just a distraction, but what [122] a distraction. In some forgotten
place, his naked body was lying on an operating table at the Hospital in
Maryland.
"Yes," James said. "I hear you, Dr. Kane. Now, please go away. You're ruining
my performance."
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, thank you. I'm in heaven," he sighed.
"Not yet, but soon," said Dr. Ethan Kane. Then he whispered, "Okay, shuck
him."
34 DR. ETHAN KANE got to leave the Hospital early that night-at least, it was
early for him. He decided to go to his "second home," which was out in the
rolling, wooded hills of Maryland, where he could have a little privacy.
Forty minutes later, as he climbed from his Mercedes at the house, he heard
the dogs start to bark and it brought a rare and mischievous smile to his
lips. "Jesus, they're well-trained animals. Keep out the riffraff."
He unlocked the front door of the large fieldstone house and went inside. The
dogs continued to bark.
A tall brunette woman wearing an apron over a flowery blue dress emerged from
the kitchen. She was stunningly beautiful and had the warmest, most open smile
this side of Ohio. "Oh, you're home, Ethan. I'm so happy. Your dinner will be
ready at eight-thirty. The Washington Post and the [124] Wall Street Journal
are laid out in the study, as is a Johnnie Black rocks. Go relax. You've
earned it."
Ethan Kane never said a word to his wife, Juliette. He didn't move to hug or
kiss her. Instead, he pulled a compact black case from his pocket. It was
similar to the locking device he used for the Mercedes, though considerably
more complex.
Dr. Kane pressed his forefinger to one of several buttons, and Juliette
stopped talking immediately, stopped moving, shut down altogether. She just
stood there frozen like a department store mannequin, in the center of the
foyer.
"You're perfect, darling," he muttered, "The completely evolved woman. What
would I do without you?"
Kane then pushed another button that turned off the barking of the dogs.
He walked to the study, where he read his favorite newspapers while he sipped
his scotch. Just past 8:30 he went into the kitchen and ate dinner: chicken
marsala, fresh asparagus and broccoli rabe, risotto with morels, a sliver of
apple crisp and cheddar cheese. All expertly prepared by Juliette.
Before he went upstairs, Dr. Kane returned to the foyer and switched on the
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security alarms. He then turned Juliette back on.
"Hello, sweetheart," she said, and smiled demurely.
"Let's go up to bed, darling," he whispered against her ear as she lightly
stroked the front of his trousers. He put one hand on a pert, nicely rounded
breast, the other between her legs. What waited there for him was the perfect
fit. Kane knew that for certain. He'd measured.
"I need you, Ethan," said Juliette-and there was that dazzling smile of hers
again. "You're such a wonderful lover."
"Carry me up to bed, darling," he whispered.
35 LINDA SCHEIN'S WORK DESK faced a blank white wall without a single
adornment. On purpose.
Her picture window afforded a stunning mountain view from her condo on
Fourteenth Street near Market in Denver, but Linda couldn't handle the
distraction when she was writing. And at the moment, she was drafting the
story that would both make her career and make her rich.
As she typed on her laptop, Linda heard a creaky whine somewhere in the
apartment. She ignored the sound.
She was in the Zone, that rare and special creative state where time has no
meaning and every word falls into place poetically and logically. The
Resurrection Project story had incredible scope, with scientific and ethical
and religious implications. Potentially, it was more explosive than the
original expos of the School, and even the revelation of the bird children
themselves. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]