JULY 23, 2009 OBJECT №326

It was obvious that if the experiment didn't go according to plan, everyone who saw the customer would be mopped up. So Reyna took her time, especially the five-year-old dark-skinned girl she was leading to meet the big boss was in no hurry, either. Her hot hand tried to slip out of Reyna's sweaty palm.

Her muscles were stiff from worry, as if a knife had been driven under her shoulder blade, and it took a tremendous effort not to stretch to get rid of the pain temporarily.



Reina did not know which of the founders of MANGA was coming to inspect Site 326. Hardly Sergei Brin; he's not interested in the military, intelligence, or anything else, and this project is just that. And not Steve Jobs, who funds medical projects because he's more interested in them than anyone else.

Zuckerberg doesn't bother with that sort of thing, and neither does the founder of Netflix. Jeff Bezos? Most likely, because his grandfather designed missile defense systems, and he is rumored to be an active collaborator with the CIA. In fact, it was through this office that Reina, who had said goodbye to her career after the fiasco in Belarus, got a place in the Object.

Stop in front of the elevator door, scan the iris, put her hand to the sensor panel so that a light wave rolled across it.

A little girl was interested in the effect, reaching out to touch the sensor with her palm, but Reina intercepted her, squatting down to keep up with the five-year-old.

- You can't do that, kid. Only adults can, or they won't let us in, and you won't see anything interesting...

The doors parted with a slight sigh, and the dark-skinned girl joyfully rushed into the light-filled elevator, shining chrome, with a cry:

- Whoa! We're going to space!

Reina followed and pressed the minus-third floor button, catching herself thinking that she was afraid again, but this time for the girl. When there were forty children on the Object, she tried to remember their names, to entertain the little ones.

But after the disappearance of her favorite, red-haired Jasna, who understood nothing in English and communicated through an interpreter, Reina forbade herself to think about the fate of the children and reduced contact with them to a minimum - let the tutors get used to the wards and suffer then.

Soon her fears were confirmed: there were fewer and fewer children every day. Of those to whom she had become involuntarily attached, today the only survivors were Gia, an Asian, also Filipino, and a serious, blond boy from some Balkan country, well versed in weapons and military equipment for his age.

The kids were taken to minus four, where she had no access, and returned asleep. Then some disappeared, others stayed.

No matter who the Manga arrived, however, it didn't get any easier by the hour. Her job was a small one: under the guise of senior caretaker, to listen in on staff conversations, keep an eye out, identify disloyal ones, and report upstairs. She didn't know who was behind the person taking her daily reports, what the purpose and methods of the experiment on the children were.

- Don't be afraid, Reina," the girl said, tilting her curly head and smiling. Her snow-white teeth, tinged with chocolate skin, seemed to shine.

Reyna grew cold, for few people knew her real name. She stepped out of the elevator, squinted at the cameras, leading the girl out.

- My name is Ruth, baby girl. What makes you think I care?

- I just know. You have a lot of pain over there, too. - The girl grimaced and put her hand behind her back. - Do you want it to go away?



Reina grinned. She'd had back pain since she was eighteen, and by twenty-five it was keeping her awake at night, and there was nothing she could do about it but make it go away temporarily.

- May I fly you? - the girl asked. - It pains me to endure.

- Does it hurt you? - Reina raised an eyebrow and squatted down again, a realization that something had been done to these children, and they were different.

Or were they different from the beginning, and the minus-four had simply revealed their abilities? How does the girl know her real name? Why does she feel someone else's pain? And if so, might she be able to help?

Without thinking long, the little girl hugged Reina from behind, pressed her cheek against her back.

The feeling was strange. Like invisible fingers pulling at inflamed ligaments like strings. But it didn't hurt. Like someone finally scratching a place that had been itching for a long time.

Sleepy, Reina yawned, almost collapsed, but pulled herself together and got up from her squatting position. The pain was gone, but the fatigue was gone.

- Thank you.

- You're kind. Not many good ones," she chirped. - Why don't you be my mother? And Uncle Sato as daddy?

So all these children are orphans, after all, and no one will look for them. Reina's fingers tightened on the little hand, a keen desire to protect the girl, to hide her from possible danger emerged. Damn maternal instinct! But how could she hide, with cameras everywhere and everything being recorded? Surely even what happens in the toilets.

- Uncle Sato? - Reina asked, remembering the faces of the employees.

The girl nodded.

- Yes, he's a doctor. But he's a good one. Plays with us. He puts this thing on," she drew a circle above her head, "and shows us cartoons. Interesting and... about nothing.

I see. It's someone from minus four who also sold his soul to the five-headed devil. Reina knew that, working for the CIA, she would have to do terrible things in the name of her country's prosperity. It soon turned out that prosperity was planned for no more than a handful of those in power, and not the best of humanity. But their number was rapidly dwindling, and their influence was concentrated around the five founders of MANGA. Already CIA officials were working for them, probably in consultation with the top brass.

Since then, Reina simply carried out orders without thinking about their consequences for others. When the scales of his own life and someone else's, any person will choose their own, and Reina was well aware that if she was fired from here, it was only to the afterlife.

So for three years she had been looking for a loophole to get out, but there were only two ways: either leave everything as it was and tolerate it, or work for her enemies, who were no better.

Stopping at the door again and scanning her iris, Reina led the girl into the lobby, where guards in gray suits strolled by, one in jeans and a T-shirt sat on a couch under an artificial palm tree, staring at an iPad. When he saw Reina, he nodded his head and pointed to a white door that looked like an octagonal porthole, where the flaps converged at a 45-degree angle.



Reyna's eyebrows rose to her forehead, but she quickly pulled herself together and asked again:

- I'm sorry, did I understand correctly that you're asking me to come in?

Reina felt the girl's fingers tighten convulsively and her hand sweat even more.

- That's right.

The only question on her mind was: Why? She didn't belong here. There were only two answers. One: it was important to them that the girl not worry, so they do not separate her from the tutor. Two: Reina would never get out of here alive.

- Don't be afraid. Not now. - The girl spoke, took a step toward the door, and the flaps parted on their own. Reina followed her as if she were to be slaughtered.

- Not now," the little girl repeated as she crossed the threshold.

It was a spacious room, flooded with warm, lamplight, with live ficuses, early Tisso-style paintings, and beige sofas against the walls.

Reina stepped into the study.

Slouching, he stood against the wall opposite the exit, one shoulder raised, the other lower, head bowed sideways. She thought of the vulture in the zoo, hanging his head unnaturally in the same way. The man straightened his shoulders and straightened up, like a soldier before a commander. Of course he was seriously ill, and if the dark-skinned girl could really heal...

- Good afternoon," he said.

Raina had heard Steve Jobs speak and remembered his soft, lively, rich overtones. Now the intonation was absent.

- Hello. It's an honor to...

- Leave it," he said, "I'm as human as you are.

The severe illness had sucked the life out of him. Where is that predatory squint? He stared unblinking, like a fish that had died. He must be having another relapse.

The girl's fingers gripped Reina's hand harder. Jobs stepped toward her - the girl hid behind her back, rubbing her face against her waist.

- Scary. Afraid," she whispered, her voice trembling.

We must save the situation! Reyna squatted down again, turning to the girl, seeing what she had to do to calm her down. But how, when a child incomprehensibly sees right through people? I wish I could remember her name!

- Naomi, I won't hurt you, I promise," the mechanical voice said, as if a zombie had risen and spoken.

Naomi, then.

- I guess Uncle Steve wants you to help him," Reina said, and then she realized that by being nervous she was letting on that she knew something she wasn't supposed to know. - You said it yourself, not now.

She glanced away, but Jobs' face remained impenetrable.



- Do you want me to help him? - she muttered, got on her tiptoes so she could see the patient, breathed heavily, grimaced. - I will. For a long time, but not forever. I can't do it forever.

Rubbing her neck, she stepped toward Jobs, still standing with her arm outstretched. Knowing what to do, he squatted down. The girl, Naomi, stopped beside him, twitched her shoulders, and hugged him-but it was obvious through sheer force. Reina looked away. The girl, with her priceless talent, would surely be spared, but she was very, very unlikely.

She watched Jobs sideways, remembering his recent healing sensations, but his face didn't change, he just opened his mouth and narrowed his eyes at the bridge of his nose, as if he were hovering. Then he swayed, almost collapsing on the girl. Reina rushed to back him up, but he held out his hand, the other grasping the wall.

- It's all right. It's all right. You're free to go. Both you and Naomi.

The girl grabbed her hand and pulled a confused Reina away. The elevator delighted Naomi again, and all the worry was gone. But not Reina's. Anxiety took root in her soul.

That evening, before she sent the report, Reina decided to inspect the caretakers - having buried herself once more, she wanted at least to get to the bottom of the experiment and find out where the children had disappeared to. She remembered that a couple of weeks ago, a five-year-old boy had broken his teacher's leg, so much power had gone into him. Two days later he disappeared. Dead? More likely he was moved to the minus-fourth floor or something. No one to ask.

Reina was sure it was a CIA project, but it was being conducted at the facilities of the Manga metacorporation.

The bedrooms were in the children's block minus the second floor, and the caretakers were only allowed to talk to each other about work. Reina, as the eldest, could give orders and appear at any moment.

The pretext for her visit this time was a sedative to be given to the test subjects.

Reina tried to remember if there was anything strange about the behavior of the remaining children-no, I don't think so. They behaved like five-year-olds: capricious, naughty, and clinging to adults. No superpowers were observed in them. Or maybe they were, she just tried not to get into it, because less you know, you sleep better. And you live longer.

Fourteen of the forty children were now gone, living in rooms of four. As she headed for the next room, where Naomi, the young healer, was getting ready for bed, Reina had no idea what she would be looking for.

She was surprised when, turning into the hallway, she found a team of frantic medics surrounding a gurney and blocking whoever was lying on it.

- An anticonvulsant, stat! - The medic with the glasses and the black espagnol with gray hair yelled out.

- Secure her! Needle out of the vein! - Obviously the nurse shouted.

- I got it. Why is the baby so strong! - The woman said.

- That's it. It's no use," sighed the nurse.

- That's not for you to decide," the woman barked. - Let's get to work.



Reina tiptoed along the wall to see who they were trying to pump out. A glimpse of a child's forearm, dark on white, was enough to let her know she'd never see Naomi again.

In the children's bedroom, Rayna came in after all. Berta was on duty today, a large teacher with an unimpressive face, so huge that she had to tilt her head back when she ordered the sedative for the children. The nurse listened and nodded without emotion, and Reina hoped she looked just as unperturbed. But when she looked at Naomi's empty crib, a storm was brewing in her soul.

Finished her rounds, Reina went back to her room and wrote a report, summarizing the day's events, including that she had observed the medical team and met with Jobs himself. There was no point in hiding it, since her every move had been recorded by cameras.

The only thing Reina had withheld was that the girl had cured her and that she had then seen Naomi die on a gurney. The thought followed: did that mean that all the children who had disappeared had died, too? Hadn't they survived the experiment?

She craved the distraction, the distraction of something else.

But there was no connection to the outside world, including the Internet, but there was a functioning home network with movies and toys like "kerchief" - something to relieve the stress of this kind of "Umbrella" employees who did not see the sun.

Reina found a file of movies, but there were only sci-fi and melodramas, which she didn't understand. I guess I'll have to read the book...

Reina opened the book folder and then the monitor went off and a smiling face of a clown appeared, the cap, bells and painted smile were not red but orange. The face disappeared, and the text came through: "It's time to decide who you're with. CIA Project Awakening is closing. Get ready." And signed, "Dr. M."