My nervousness about this entire situation didn't exactly get any better as Pittman continued to move around the lab, taking various vials from the cupboards or coolers and measuring them out at the central table. All under the watchful gaze of the four of us, of course. Especially Paige and Sierra, who would have a somewhat better understanding of what these chemicals did than Peyton or I would. Between those two, the others watching from outside the VR simulation, and the recordings, we would know how to do exactly what Pittman did to make this cure once he was done.
The man kept looking over at us with an expression of curiosity while he was working. I expected him to be furious about his body being puppeted like this, but other than that initial reaction, he seemed to be rolling with it rather well. Too well, which was somehow worse. I could've dealt with him being pissed off, but calm? That just meant he was thinking, and Pittman thinking seemed far more dangerous than if he had been ranting the whole time. He'd accepted his situation far too easily. Obviously, he was up to something now. Sure, we'd prepared for this as much as we could, including defenses we deliberately hadn’t told him about. And yet, I couldn't help but worry that we’d somehow missed something important. Something that would let him fuck us over and escape. It kept niggling at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t bring it to the forefront, couldn’t articulate the exact thought no matter how much I tried. It remained stubbornly half-formed.
We could all see a few times when it looked like the man was pulling against the control, trying not to pick up a certain vial, or to change the temperature on a particular bunsen burner to something other than what it was supposed to be, that sort of thing. There were those brief examples of annoyance, when he was just clearly trying to screw up the cure in some minor, yet inescapable way. But even that didn't work for him. Wren was too good at her job. The control from the suit his mind was plugged into was too complete. It kept him moving exactly the way he was supposed to in order to make this cure properly. Which should have made me feel better, but mostly I was just even more anxious. I told myself it was simply my anxiety about my parents and that we were finally going to fix this whole thing. It didn't help.
The other thing that didn't help was when Pittman started talking again. It was like he was barely paying attention to his own actions. Which made sense considering he wasn't actually controlling them, but was still a little unnerving. Instead of looking at what he was doing while stirring a concoction he’d put together on one of the burners, he turned his gaze to me and spoke up. “You are quite the intriguing boy, aren't you? Here I spent so much time believing that my biggest obstacle throughout this enterprise would be the Ministry themselves. But as far as my people have been able to work out, you are entirely separate from them. You aren’t part of their organization.”
Doing my best to keep my voice as even and emotionless as possible rather than let the man know just how invested I was in getting this cure, I replied, “Their benefits package wasn't enough. I'm holding out for a better offer. Hey, maybe you can pull it off. Just tell me your entire plan including the locations of all your labs, and we'll see if we can draw up a contract that's satisfying for both of us. I’m sure that’ll work.”
Giving an audible chuckle of amusement, Pitman started to say something. But Paige interrupted, her voice slightly brittle in a way that made it clear just how much having this bastard in front of us was affecting her. “Shut up. I don't know what you're saying, but just stop talking. You don't deserve to say anything. You're here to fix what you did, that's all. As soon as you're done here, we’ll be finished with you.”
Sierra, who had perched herself on one of the nearby counters with her feet braced against the central table near where Pittman was working, gave a little nod. “Damn straight. Maybe when this is over we can send you back to that island the hard way, by finding a really big cannon to launch you out of. Or just drop you out of an airplane on its way over.” Her voice darkened. “Or maybe we’ll just aim for a volcano instead.”
Pittman’s reply was just as casual as ever, while his hands were busy carefully doling out some sort of powder from a sealed container onto one of the electronic measuring scales. “This method of conversation is rather frustratingly limited. Are you quite certain you wouldn’t rather simply allow me to talk to my children directly?”
My eyes rolled behind the helmet. “Sure, buddy, we’ll just let you talk to them so you can use your command codes to control them. That sounds like a fantastic idea and not at all the most idiotic thing I've ever heard. I know you think you’re some sort of untouchable genius and everyone else is an idiot, but please try not to treat us like we’re completely braindead.”
Pittman, in turn, simply shrugged while carefully pushing the powder he’d measured out onto a spoon to slowly add it into the concoction. It bubbled up a bit, making the man’s hand snap back out of the way. But apparently there was nothing wrong with that, because he just kept working. He also didn't sound put out about my response at all. “It was worth a shot. After all, my entire point with noting how intriguing you are was to say that I would've thought you'd understand that neither of them are real. They aren't people, they’re simply good at pretending to be. I didn't think someone like you would be so thoroughly fooled. Do you also believe that online chat bots are real simply because they sound convincing? Perhaps you think the GPS in your mother’s car is sincerely fulfilled by telling her which street to turn on.”
He was just trying to get a rise out of me. I knew that. I knew that it wasn’t worth reacting to his bait. It wouldn’t accomplish anything useful, wouldn’t actually make him treat them any better, and both Paige and Sierra were more than capable of defending themselves if need be. They were beyond caring what he thought. There was absolutely no reason to give him the slightest bit of satisfaction by letting him know he’d gotten to us. Everything, everything logical said that reacting at all was a bad idea. I knew that. I knew better. The logical part of my brain was too smart for that.
Unfortunately, that logical part had barely started to open its mouth to tell the rest of me to calm down by the time my fist was already driving itself into the man’s stomach. I couldn’t help it. One second I’d been standing over by the counter, watching him like a hawk. Then he’d said… that about Paige and Sierra, and I was just right there, already taking a swing before my brain could finish screaming that this was a bad idea. I didn’t care how bad it was, I didn’t care how little it would accomplish. I didn’t care about anything at all aside from the filth that had just come out of his mouth. It wasn’t enough that he was responsible for my parents being in their condition, or that he had already tried to have me killed by the girl who was supposed to be my friend. All his plots, all his abuse, all his everything wasn’t enough to tip me over the edge. I’d had it under control, if only barely. But then he’d tried to say that Paige and Sierra weren’t real, that they weren’t actual people. He tried to say they didn’t have real feelings.
And that was too far. I was right there, burying my fist in his gut. In the midst of that, I’d somehow thought to give myself just enough purple paint that it actually hurt him, doubling the man over with a strangled wheeze that was even more satisfying than all the times I’d imagined hitting this fucking bastard.
Fortunately, the two girls whose… honor or humanity or whatever I was defending had really good reflexes themselves. They were taken a bit by surprise considering they couldn’t hear what he said, but they still managed to get there right after I punched him. Paige pulled me away, hooking one arm around my stomach while the other gripped my arm as she bodily turned me away from the man and took a step the other way. Meanwhile, Sierra caught the test tube he had been holding before it could finish falling to the floor, using one hand to shove him backwards.
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Peyton was quick too, surrounding the man with a box made of her marbles. “Dude!” she blurted with a look my way. “Paintball, calm down! He’s just trying to get at you.”
“I know, I know,” I stammered, forcing myself to relax a little. It was easier now that I wasn’t looking at him. With Paige’s arm around me, I gave a soft sigh, regret filling me as I lowered my voice to a soft whisper that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear. “I’m sorry. He just--never mind. I know he’s just playing games, trying to poke at us.”
Once she was sure that I was under control, Paige hesitantly let go, then stepped back. Her own voice was quiet as well. “What did he say? What set you off?”
Well now I was blushing. Shifting from foot to foot, I exchanged a glance with Peyton before informing both of them of what the man had said. They, in turn, looked to one another before Sierra reached out to flick my visor. “Dude, you think we give a shit what he thinks about how ‘real’ we are? If he even thinks that at all and wasn’t just trying to goad you into reacting like that.”
“I know, I know,” I insisted, head bobbing up and down quickly. “Trust me, I know all that. It just--it’s everything. The whole situation, everything he’s done. Look at the city, look at--at everyone he’s hurt. He deserves a lot more than a single punch.”
“He does,” Paige agreed. “But he’s not worth it. He’s not worth getting worked up over. We just have to let him keep making this cure, then we can be done with him forever.”
A heavy sigh escaped me before I gestured. “Yeah, you’re right, I know. I’m okay, I’m good. You can let him out now. I won’t let him get to me anymore. Let’s just make him finish this thing so we never have to listen to him again.” Wincing at the thought of how smug the man had to be for managing to make me react like that, I tried to push all of it out of my head. Yes, he was an asshole. That wasn’t exactly news, and I couldn’t let him manipulate me like that. No matter how much he deserved another few hundred punches like the first one.
Paige, for her part, reached out to squeeze my arm briefly. There was an unreadable look on her face, before she turned to look at Pittman himself as Peyton removed the marble box. He, in turn, looked equal parts curious and content, like he had been almost asleep on his feet while waiting for us to let him out. Once he could see us again, the man raised an eyebrow. “Well, it seems that touched a nerve. You have my apology, Paintball. I had no idea you’d grown so attached to my creations in such a short time. Have they taken up the role of siblings to you? Or perhaps you have a crush. They are quite attractive.” His eyes shifted toward Sierra. “Though I have a feeling the body this one seems to have taken would make any relationship even more problematic than you might think. Its… original owner is a bit recognizable.”
Okay, one, he clearly realized which body Sierra had taken. Which made sense, given he obviously knew which ones were lying around waiting to be used. And two, fucking ewwwww. I had to resist the urge to dry heave audibly, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat. Don’t react, I couldn’t react, couldn’t give him any more information.
Peyton was the one who reacted, turning one of her marbles into a dagger, which placed itself at the man’s throat. “Look, asshole,” she snapped a bit sharply, “it’s way past time to be done with this. You and your stupid Sleeptalk bullshit have done more than enough damage. So get back to work. Keep making the cure. We don’t need any more commentary. Shut up and do your job so we can fix my--I mean this.”
It took a second, but I belatedly realized what she was doing. She didn’t actually have anyone who had been affected by this stuff. But now Pittman would think she did, and he’d be spending his time trying to work out if he could figure out who she was thanks to that. There were a lot of people who had been in that building that day. Touched, cops, security, support staff, even some reporters. Not only would it be difficult for him to work out which of them was someone she supposedly cared about, but it was a wild goose chase anyway. It would keep him busy thinking about the wrong thing.
Yeah, Peyton was pretty damn smart sometimes. Even if she had fallen for an online catfishing trap. Everyone made mistakes.
To his credit (much as even that thought made me scowl), Pittman didn’t seem to push things any further. He kept silent while his body moved around the lab, once more under the control of the suit his brain was linked to after I had interrupted it with my little outburst. We were all watching intently, but he didn’t try anything else. He didn’t speak up, didn’t try any more command codes, or even look at us really. The man seemed completely content to let his body move on its own while he was lost in thought. And yes, I realized that in some ways that was even more dangerous than him talking or trying to escape were. He was a Tech-Touched, and a smart man besides that. If he was thinking it couldn’t be about anything good for the rest of us.
But what else were we supposed to do? We couldn’t stop him from thinking. We just had to keep our eyes open and make sure he didn’t get any easy openings. After all, he was the only one who could make this damn cure to get my parents, Irelyn, and everyone else back on their feet.
Somehow, the man being quiet throughout the remaining twenty minutes seemed worse than when he had been talking. I didn’t know what he was thinking, what he was planning. I couldn’t tell if he really was going off in the wrong direction thanks to Peyton, or if he’d somehow dismissed that. The near-silence from all of us made the sound of glass beakers and vials tapping against each other, liquids boiling on a few different bunsen burners, and the like near deafening. At one point the man picked up a beaker with three different layers of colored liquids in it and started to stir it all together, and the clink of the glass stirring rod almost made me jump.
It was almost over. My mom and dad, and everyone else, were going to be okay. I wasn’t sure exactly how we were going to deal with Pittman once that part was over, or how well that was going to go. And I certainly wasn’t sure how the Breakwater people were reacting to one of their prisoners literally being snatched right out from under their noses. The others were supposed to be keeping an eye on the news to monitor if anything came up about it. But we didn’t expect it to, not this quickly. The island prison authorities probably wouldn’t be that eager to tell everyone they’d lost one of their inmates.
Finally, just as I was starting to think this would go on forever or that the man had actually found a way to stall, Pittman set the final beaker down. The liquid inside was a bright orange color with streaks of blue in it, and was heavily steaming. Giving the edge of the beaker two light taps with the stirring rod, he set that aside while announcing, “There we are. All finished.”
“That’s it?” Sierra’s voice rose a bit as she stared that way. “That’s the cure to Sleeptalk?”
Pittman, however, tilted his head. “Hmm? Oh, no.” With that, he reached out, picked up the beaker, and took a deep gulp from it. “It’s congestion medication. I’ve been a bit stuffed up. Though I suppose if this is virtual reality, that won’t do much for me, will it?”
Before I could react, Paige was there. She hadn’t heard what he said, but obviously picked up the gist from him drinking the stuff and his expression. Her hands grabbed his collar and she gave him a hard shove back against the far wall, where he almost fell over. “What did you do?! This thing forces you to move, it controls your motions. There’s no way you could have resisted it. You couldn’t stop yourself from making that cure, unless--” She cut herself off, taking a step back in obvious realization.
With a small, guileless smile, the man offered an easy shrug. “Yes, I’m quite proud of myself for working out that you expected this machine to puppet my actions. And you’re right, there is only one way I could have resisted it and not made that cure you want so badly. And that’s if I don’t know how to make it. Because I didn’t make the Sleeptalk to begin with.”
“Who the fuck did?” Sierra blurted while the rest of us were reeling once I passed that revelation on, grabbing a dry erase marker before throwing it to him. “Write it on the board. Write the name of whoever made it on that board!”
The suit was still controlling him, so he couldn’t stop his body from moving to obey. He scrawled the answer on that whiteboard in bright red marker.
My protege- Amanda Sanvers