Pressure Chamber, page 32
She hears footsteps approaching the room. Shoes.
Daphne enters first.
Before them are three babies immersed up to their necks in water. Daphne runs towards them without hesitation. As she leans over the hot tub, Rotem suddenly sees him appear and kick her in the back. Daphne stumbles and falls forward, her head slamming against the corner of the tub; she drops to the floor before she even has time to cry out in pain.
Rotem shouts, “Don’t move. Police.”
He turns back towards her. Slowly. “Hello, Rotem. It’s not very polite of you to break in here like this.”
She stands in front of him, the muzzle of her gun pointed at his chest. She hopes he won’t notice that the slide is pulled back, which shows that there’s no bullet in the chamber. Her eyes race over the room, trying to take in everything at once. His skin gleaming with oil, his bandaged forearm, blood smears on his body, a tray with medical instruments, the babies in the water, screens on the walls. The stigmata signs on his palms. Daphne lying motionless, blood trickling from her forehead onto the floor.
She says, “You’re going to join them together. To connect their circulatory systems.”
“To create a superior being,” he responds. “You understand. A superior entity. Pure. Infinite intellect.” He looks her in the eyes, ignoring the gun, not brandishing the knife. “I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you again. And it shall be in the last days, God says, that I will pour forth of my Spirit on all mankind; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” He steps towards her, but she raises the gun to point it at his head and he stops.
“The sun will be turned into darkness and the moon into blood, before the great and glorious day of the Lord shall come,” she says.
He stands still, his gaze fixed on her. “Everyone goes on about us taking advantage of no more than ten percent of our brain’s capabilities,” he continues. “Nonsense. We use most of our brain. But no one has thought about what could happen if we were to join several brains together. Bodies that are connected to the same circulatory system and constantly absorb the same knowledge. Bodies that are free of the burden of physicality and exist instead in a world of pure intellect. That’s my creation. I’m creating the first brain comprised of several brains. Like computer processors with several cores. And when I harness the knowledge and power that will be created here in the Temple, I’ll then be able to fulfill my destiny to alter the face of humankind. I’ll create an empire. Just think what would happen if the most powerful brain ever created was there to serve your every objective. Armageddon is approaching.”
Rotem holds his gaze. “Until what age do you intend to leave them like that?”
“That’s a dumb question, Rotem, which I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
Lee peers out from behind the corner of the hot tub. The policewoman on the floor beside her is unconscious. She isn’t sure if she’s even breathing. She needs urgent attention.
He’s standing with his back to her, speaking to the other policewoman, who has a gun pointed at him. He can’t see her; he’s focused on the policewoman. Lee rises slowly. The policewoman must have spotted her, but she doesn’t let on in any way.
He says, “Let me put it differently. When do you think they’ll be at the stage of being able to fully exploit their brain potential as a single entity? When will the learning end?
“I’ll be switching soon to gastrostomy tube feeding so they won’t get hungry and waste time eating. They’ll be learning at a fast pace. All the material has already been prepared for screening. You can help me with this project. I’ll release the Guardian and we’ll work together. You understand what we can create here.”
Lee gets to her feet and advances slowly, step by step. She knows he can smell her, that he can sense the air moving. She raises her right hand very slowly, her fingers gripped tight around the can.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Rotem says. “I think that—”
Lee slams the can against the back of his neck with all her might, and he collapses to the floor, unconscious.
“Third time’s the charm,” she mumbles and then rushes over to Daphne. She turns her over onto her back, making sure her air passages are clear and that she has a pulse. “Shoot him if he moves,” she instructs Rotem, who is still standing over the Babysitter. “He appears to be out, but he could be faking it.”
“Gladly, only I don’t have any bullets.” She returns the pistol to its holster and plucks the knife from the Babysitter’s hand. “I’ll stab him if necessary.”
“I can feel a pulse.” Lee sits down next to Daphne and lays her head on her thigh. She studies the wound to her forehead and lifts her eyelids. “Her pupils are dilated. Find me something to stop the bleeding.”
Rotem looks around.
“Is there no ambulance here?” Lee says, she can feel her anger building. “Did you come here alone? That’s who they sent? Two policewomen? No offense, but you don’t look like a SWAT team.”
“They’ll be here in a few minutes.” Rotem hands her a package of gauze pads that she found on the stainless-steel tray.
“Okay.” Lee carefully wipes the blood off Daphne’s forehead. She checks her pulse again. Weak, but there.
Rotem looks at her curiously. “You look pretty calm for someone who’s just been released from a year and a half in captivity.”
“Only because I’m concerned right now with preventing your friend from dying. I’m a doctor. Or rather, I was studying medicine until this creature here abducted me. I’ll allow myself to fall apart afterwards. Yoavi! Go get Yoavi!”
Rotem doesn’t have time to respond before three men in civilian dress burst into the room with their weapons drawn and take in the scene.
“Hi, Rotem,” one of them says.
“It took you five whole minutes to get here,” she remarks dryly.
“You need to get going. The police are on their way. Before they start taking names.”
“Are they bringing an ambulance?” she checks.
“Of course.”
One of the men approaches the Babysitter, kicks him in the ribs to confirm that he’s indeed unconscious and then cuffs both his ankles and his wrists. The third man goes over to Daphne.
“There’s one more baby, shut in one of the rooms,” Lee says as the man crouches beside Daphne, checking too that she’s breathing.
“Should we take her upstairs?” he asks.
“No,” Lee responds firmly. “We’ll wait for the gurney. I don’t want to risk causing her any damage.”
The man who cuffed the Babysitter approaches the tub to make sure all the babies are alive and then turns his attention to looking for a switch to turn the light on.
“Come on, I’ll accompany you upstairs,” the man standing next to Rotem urges her.
She gets down on her knees and hugs Lee. “It was nice to meet you,” she says, “and I’m sure we’ll meet again. But now I need to disappear from here.” She strokes Daphne’s cheek and then stands up, and she and the man from the Organization quickly exit the room.
Moments later, the room fills with uniformed police officers and paramedics and a SWAT team and forensic technicians and social workers and even a negotiations team. Only after seeing them take care of Daphne and find Yoavi – and after hugging and kissing him and Omer and Shai and Rami – does Lee agree to leave the room and be taken to sit in one of the ambulances.
And only on the short drive to the ER, when the ambulance team gives her the chance to call her parents, does she allow herself to cry.
PART 7
A SMALL GRAY BIRD
DECEMBER 2017
90.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Not again.
Silence.
The smell of old wood.
I’m in bed, with the comforter over my head.
I have to peek out.
I’m paralyzed by fear. My heart is pounding wildly.
I peek and they’re there. The three windows, the mist beyond them hanging thickly in the air. The old wooden floor. The walls of the cabin. Palpable fear like a blunt object.
Silence.
Nothing’s happening.
Maybe I’ll just go back to sleep this time?
A shadow flits by outside, but the face doesn’t appear at the third window.
Silence again.
The smell of candle wax. Shadows dancing on the walls.
His face appears all of a sudden at the middle window and I jump out of bed in my pajamas.
“Wait, I’ll be right there,” he yells, and the sound of heavy, rapid strides comes from outside.
I run to the other room. This time, I’ll break one of the windows with the clothes rod, then dash back afterwards to hide in the closet. He’ll think I’ve jumped out and he’ll go looking for me. And while he’s doing so, I’ll escape through the door in the opposite direction. Maybe I’ll get far enough to call for help before he doubles back to look for me.
I open the closet doors.
A good night to die, says the writing on the back inside panel.
Reality check.
I turn my head away and then look forward again.
The writing has disappeared and now there’s an illustration of a skull.
“What is it?”
I look at my hands and see that they are surrounded by a halo of light.
I’m dreaming.
I’m lucid in my nightmare, at last.
I don’t bother with dismantling the clothes rod. I shut the closet. I head slowly back to the other room, feeling the coolness of the floor against the soles of my feet.
I’m dreaming.
I stand in front of the door to the cabin and wait. My legs are steady. My hands are clenched into fists at the sides of my body. I’m ready.
The kicking begins, until the door bursts open with one powerful blow and he’s standing in front of me.
I’m dreaming.
He moves forward and stands right up close to me. Just an inch or two between his face and mine. His foul breath on my skin. He realizes something has changed, that I don’t fear him this time, and he immediately grabs for my throat.
I’m dreaming.
I’m dreaming.
I’m dreaming.
It’s just a dream.
His hands try to close around my neck but they can’t. They slide off my skin like river water.
I’m dreaming.
He steps back and pulls out a knife.
I’m dreaming.
I’m dreaming.
Relax.
Breathe deeply.
Don’t wake up.
Stay in the dream.
He stabs me with the knife and the blade slides through me.
I’m dreaming.
It’s a dream.
He’s taken aback. His eyes widen and he tries to slash at me again and again. I stand there looking at him and don’t budge.
I’m dreaming.
It’s a dream.
Deep breath.
He backs away towards the door. I feel as if the cabin, the outside and the entire world are mine, under my control. There’s nothing I can’t do. My power is limitless.
He’s scared. The fear impairs his focus. The ice-like layer that blurs his features begins to melt. The mask drips off him and I see his face for the first time. I’m gripped by an irrepressible sense of rage. I promised myself I’d remain calm when I got to this stage, I’ve been waiting for this for years, but I’m so angry. It’s him standing in front of me. Him. I break my vow.
I’m too worked up.
I’m starting to lose the dream.
I’m waking up.
The cabin around me begins to fade.
I stamp my foot down hard and scream: “Focus!”
A shockwave spreads out in ever-widening circles from the foot that strikes the floor, smashing out the three windows and flinging the predator through the open door. I hear a cracking sound as his ribs break. He struggles to his feet and begins limping away along the path leading from the cabin into the forest. He can run as much as he likes. I’ll deal with him later.
I look at my hands. They’re glowing like small suns. Satan has fled, and now it’s time to take care of Hell. I spread my arms out to the sides and raise them skyward. The roof of the hut is ripped away to the sound of the creaking and snapping of wooden beams. The mist outside and the darkness inside disappear, and there’s a white sun shining in the blue sky. The roof flies off and swirls faster and faster until it turns into a gray dust that spins around like a tornado, creating static electricity charges that are released in the form of bolts of lightning all around. I shout with all my might. The walls of the cabin disintegrate. The floor disappears and a circle of grass appears under my feet and spreads rapidly in all directions, painting the previously black and muddy earth a light green.
The cabin is gone.
I walk barefoot across the grass towards the hills. The dark forest has been swallowed up by the earth, to be replaced by new trees with green leaves that shine and glitter in the sun. The grass spreads, turning the hills around the forest into a green meadow. The chirping of birds sounds all around me. Just a single oak tree remains on one of the hills, and I walk towards it without really touching the ground, light as air.
I sit down in the shade of the oak and a small gray bird lands next to me and pecks at the grassless earth around the roots of the tree.
Reality check.
My hands are still glowing.
I’m dreaming.
I look to my right and my friend is sitting next to me.
“You know that dream will never come back again, right?” she says.
“Right.”
“Only if you summon it.”
“Yes.”
“And will you summon it?”
“When the time is right.”
“You know, there you’re a forensic investigator for the police, and here you’re God. There you play by the rules, and here you create the world and write the rules of the game.”
“I know.”
We lie on the soft grass, holding hands and looking up at the sky. The sun flickers and dances for us through the branches moving in the gentle breeze. Small white clouds drift through the blue sky. I can hear the sound of a babbling stream in the distance.
Never before have I felt so at peace.
91.
“It’s a little ironic.”
Lee looks up at the woman who’s just walked into the room. “What’s ironic?”
“One of the babies was taken from here at Tel HaSomer, the Babysitter held you here, and Daphne’s in the hospital here now. The ambulance that evacuated her drove for a minute from one side of the hospital to the ER on the other side.”
“It’s you – you were there with me.” Lee’s eyes widen. “You’re the other policewoman.” She stands up from the armchair and embraces her, not letting go for a long time.
“I didn’t recognize you without the uniform,” she says, as she sits back down.
Rotem perches on the edge of Daphne’s bed, making sure she isn’t squashing Daphne’s legs.
“How are you?” Rotem asks.
“I’m good.” Lee doesn’t feel like elaborating. “I can get up and walk around at least.”
“Yes.” Rotem nods and looks anxiously at Daphne. “Anything new?”
“No,” Lee responds. “No change. There’s brain activity, but she hasn’t regained consciousness. It’s like she’s shut off in a box. I saw her eyes moving earlier, but she didn’t open them. I think she’s dreaming.”
“That’s a good sign.”
Rotem turns away from Daphne and looks around the dark room at the bouquets of flowers, greeting cards, gift baskets. “Do you think anyone’s going to eat this chocolate?” she asks, pointing at the Mozart chocolate pralines on the dresser.
Lee smiles. “I think we are. Now that I think about it, I haven’t eaten a thing all day. I’m starving.”
Visiting hours are long since over, and the rustling of the cellophane echoes loudly through the silence on the ward. “We’ll buy you more when you’re up. Promise,” Rotem says to Daphne as they devour the chocolate.
“Hi.”
They both jump in surprise, caught red-handed by a new visitor arriving.
The woman chuckles. “It’s okay. She doesn’t like Mozart anyway. I’m Anna, her roommate.”
“Oh, hi, I’m Rotem. From the police.”
“And I’m—”
“Everyone knows you,” Anna smiles. “You’ve been on every possible TV channel.”
“They didn’t give me a chance to breathe. And I felt bad saying no; everyone’s being so nice to me. And this weekend, all the families are getting together and they’ve invited me.”
“The families of the babies?”
“Yes. I don’t know if they’re really up for it, but the psychologists have advised the four families to go their separate ways gradually and to have contact with me too over the coming month. A disengagement in stages.”
“It’s complicated. You must need it too,” Rotem says.
Lee thinks of the babies and feels a wave of sadness go through her. “Yes, perhaps.”
Anna approaches the bed and kisses Daphne on the forehead. “Hi, sweetie. When are you getting up? I’m bored without you.”
The three of them go quiet, as if waiting – hoping – for an answer.
“I’ll get another chair.” Lee breaks the silence and stands up and leaves the room.
“How is she doing?” Anna asks as she plants herself in the vacant armchair.
“No change.”
“Did you see the news? They’ve transferred the Babysitter to the psychiatric wing at Ayalon Prison. His defense lawyer is claiming insanity.”
Rotem clicks her tongue. “He won’t get off so lightly. Have a chocolate.”
