“Well, nearly,” she watched his eyes, “but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay, go ahead.” Alik said, putting the spoon down and removing the tray from her lap.
“Your gift, it’s your memory, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“How detailed is your recollection?”
“Extremely.”
“How far back does it go?”
“All the way.”
“All the way till when?”
“I remember being injected with the Infinite serum when I was a baby. I remember getting branded,” Alik’s hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck as though the thought of it brought back the pain. His thick biceps twitched. He sighed deeply and reached again for the container of applesauce and spoon before he continued.
“I remember everything, every conversation, every dream, everything I’ve ever read, seen or heard, down to the most minute detail.” He shrugged his muscular shoulders and slipped the plastic spoon to Farrow’s lips.
“What about you? What are your special gifts?” Alik asked.
Farrow self-consciously licked her lips and ran her small hand through her dark pixie hair. “I’m nothing special,” she mumbled, ears turning red.
Alik frowned at her. A quick glance at his face had her feeling the need to elaborate.
“I mean, I’m a normal metahuman. I have no heightened gift like you and M57—I mean Meg or Evan. I was given the serum when I was a baby, too, but they call my serum ‘Infinite II’.” Farrow shrugged demurely. “None of us from the second generation of metahumans have reported gifts.”
Alik stared at her for a few moments, unmoving. If his brother or sister had seen the expression on his face, they would have recognized it immediately as the look Alik gets when he’s putting pieces of a complex puzzle of memories and thoughts together to solve something big.
“Hum.” Alik finally offered.
“Hum, what?” Farrow asked.
“Well, you said none of the second generation reported gifts to the scientists at the Facility.”
“Right.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean that the gifts aren’t there; just that they haven’t been reported.”
“How could anyone hide a gift?”
“I suppose it would depend on the gift.”
“So you think there are metahumans out there capable of more than they’re letting on?”
Alik shrugged, “Think about it, Farrow. If it were you, would you offer yourself up as a lab rat to Williams and his whack-job scientists? What, so they can suck your blood and DNA trying to duplicate the desired mutation, all for their nefarious plans?”
Alik shook his head as he delivered another sweet mouthful of applesauce to Farrow.
It was Farrow’s turn to sit pensively.
“Creed,” she finally said.
“What about him?” Alik asked, not offering anything further.
“There’s something different about him, but I never put my finger on it before. I just thought he was one hell of a tough soldier. But he’s more than that, isn’t he?”
“Was. He was one hell of a tough soldier.” Alik stared into the half-empty container in his hands, face falling.
Farrow’s doe eyes widened. “Oh, no. What happened?”
Alik didn’t respond right away—only rubbed his face, looking immediately older as stress creased his forehead.
“What happened to him?” Farrow felt an overwhelming sense of loss, knowing, but still needing to hear Alik say the words.
“According to Meg, Creed is gone. She can’t locate his emotional signature anymore. She tried for the first three hours of our flight, and got nowhere. She is really upset; we all are. Creed insisted on staying back to face Williams himself.”
Farrow groaned.
“Yeah, I guess things didn’t go as he hoped.” Alik sat back and closed his eyes, lost in his memories of his friend.
“I’m so sorry,” Farrow said softly swallowing the emotional lump lodged in her throat.
“Me, too,” Alik whispered. “In the end, he turned away from Williams. He decided all the sick, brainwashing he grew up with was wrong. He chose to fight alongside us. He sacrificed himself trying to rid the world of the cancerous growth that is Dr. Kenneth Williams.”
The two metahumans sat in silence for a while, trying to absorb the impact of Creed’s death.
Finally, Farrow shared her thoughts. “I was raised at the Facility, too.”
Alik looked up at the small-framed girl who had pulled her knees to her chin, wrapping her graceful arms around herself.
“What was it like?” Alik asked, wondering if the metahuman may need to talk about her experiences.
“I don’t know how much Creed told you.” Farrow looked away evasively.