“Well, you-you wanted the tests—There they are.” Lucy pointed to the files on the desk, turned around, and opened the door. “Bye.”
“Wait,” Bernardo stopped her. “I didn’t just call you to bring me the tests. I want you to get the Binary-C ready for surgery as soon as possible. We’ll implement the Major Surgery on him, and I want you to take care of the intervention.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped as if an invisible hand had pulled from it. She was short of breath; she blinked quickly, and her eyes looked for any point to settle on other than the Director’s face.
“M-m-major surgery?”
Why the hell she didn’t stop stuttering?!
“You’ll also do it with that p-p-poor child?”
“I won’t, you will,” Bernardo said; “just like before.”
“I operated on the Binary-R…” Lucy said, and corrected herself, “Not on the Binary-R, on Brun! I operated on Brun! I ma-managed to synthesize his genetic material. We-we’ve already learned how his neurotransmitters work; what else do-do you want? W-why are we going to get Broga through that same hell as well?!”
Bernardo’s eyes widened, and his mouth clenched.
“You want to keep your voice down, goddamn it?”
Lucy pushed the door ajar just to satisfy Bernardo. What did it matter if someone overheard them arguing? By now, every person in that building knew what kind of relationship they had; yelling at each other was an everyday thing.
“Bernardo! I have performed a brain lobotomy on a child; do you understand what that means?” she insisted, restraining her own voice’s attempts to make herself heard. “I’ve crippled a child for-for the rest of his life! What-what would his mother say if…?”
She was silent. She was about to burst into tears.
Bernardo stared at her.
“His mother and father are one of us, Lucy,” he answered, “and they were willing to assume the sacrifice from the day the babies tested positive.” He left the chair, picked up the documents again, and began to walk in circles around her. “I am very sorry that, of all the children, they have had to pay the price.” He shook the results as if they were the little ones he was talking about. “But neither we nor their parents are responsible for their being born with the mutation—A mutation that, I must remind you, Lucy, has been eagerly awaited by all of us.”
Lucy couldn’t believe the words that came out of the Project Director himself. Was the pressure the rest of the Order put on him so much that he didn’t realize how far they were going down the rabbit hole?
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“We haven’t given their parents or them a choice, Bernardo. Fool yourself if you want, but don’t try to do it with me. All we do is to satisfy our ego, to satisfy the ambition of a lot of heartless jerks!”
“Enough with emotional nonsense, Hikaru!” Bernardo barked and slammed the documents against his desk. “What’s the matter with you, Lucy?! I don’t remember you doing such a pitiful scene when you operated on the other twin. You had your doubts, but nothing compared to this babysitter whining.”
Lucy was frightened to hear him speak like that, so unemotional, and it terrified her to think of the number of times she had acted the same way in the name of science. Of course, losing another pregnancy had been a punishment! And maybe that had been for the better. With so many atrocities committed, she didn’t deserve to become a mother.
She remembered what had happened a few weeks ago in the operating room. She saw herself getting ready to perform the surgery, cleaning her hands, putting on the gloves and a surgical mask; while the nurses, supervised by Rosa Tyler, shaved little Brun’s head, who slept on the operating table without knowing what was going on around him. She saw herself opening the little boy’s skull with the laser and then removing part of his brain.
If this child were yours, would you be doing this? she had questioned herself then.
It was possible that, at that moment, Lucy had her doubts because she was carrying four miscarriages, and her mother’s voice was telling her how unqualified she was to take care of someone besides her. Maybe her mother had been right all along.
That time, Lucy had gotten rid of those thoughts, and she’d done her job, and she had done it well. However, now…
“I won’t.”
“You will,” Bernardo said, calm but implacable. “Our investors are pleased with our progress and want us to do the same with Binary-C. If I refuse, I assure you that someone will take advantage of the discontent to move their influence and replace me as director of the Binary Protein Project.”
“Bernardo, we still don’t know the long-term effects of what we did with Brun’s brain. Remember the result of these tests, the impact of chemicals on their neurotransmitters and proteins. Who says something similar won’t happen with Brun if—?”
“If indeed Jules Rotanev and his people were successful with the cloning, the source tissues are disposable,” he said.
You damned soulless monster, she raged.
“I will not operate on that child, Bernardo. If you’re so eager to satisfy those monsters, do it yourself.”
“Look, Lucy, I don’t have enough time to please everyone,” Bernardo confessed. “I have to check on the rebuild of the lab, and I have to get the retarded Binary-R ready to move. Besides…” He lowered his gaze. “We both know there’s no one better qualified to perform that surgery than you, Lucy. I’m not as good a neurosurgeon as you are. I’m better at commanding everything behind a desk than doing it on the operating table. You’ll do it, whether you like it or not. That’s an order.”
Tears ran down Lucy’s face.
Bernardo stood up, puzzled and concerned. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
So, she confessed, “I lost our fifth baby.”
Bernardo took a deep breath, put his hands back, and raised his chin; his brown eyes, hidden behind his glasses, became two rocks with no emotions.
“We should have stopped trying when you lost the second one,” he said, though his lips trembled a little.
Lucy pivoted and left the office the way she didn’t want to do it: crying.
“The operating room will be ready and waiting for you first thing tomorrow,” he reminded her.
Lucy Templeton hated Bernardo as a boss, but she hated him as a husband even more.