Prodigal Formula - Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

              “That’s enough for now, Edward,” Doctor Ellis said as he disabled the treadmill.
              Sweat dripped down Edward’s face, back and shoulders, drawing small sagging shapes beneath his arms and across his chest.  The word “Eddie” was emblazoned on the front of his shirt – on the front of all of his non-descript shirts – and it stood out in black font across the white fabric.  After receiving the personalized shirts nearly five years ago, Eddie wore them with pride and felt a greater sense of belonging among the many BioCorp staff members who came and went with their names printed on their lab coats and shirts.  From a certain point of view, it felt good to be like everyone else.
         Eddie had just finished a twelve mile run in less than an hour and kept his pride to himself as he noted the time.
         “I think I might need some new shoes if we keep this up, Doctor Ellis,” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a bottle of water.
         “No water yet, Edward.  Once we’re done with this test,” Ellis said evenly.
         Eddie tightened the cap on the bottle of water, closed his fist around it and sat rigidly next to one of Ellis’ machines.  He had names for each of the machines – and he thought he was correct in what function they served – but this was a new one.
         Ellis rounded the table and began placing sensors on Eddie’s head and shoulders.  The last five years had treated Eddie very well, physically speaking.  Disregarding the fact that he was in a wheelchair five years prior, Eddie had begun to rehabilitate and develop at an alarming rate and his physique showed it, despite the slightly baggy “Eddie” tee shirt.  His hair had been buzzed short, military-style, but this served a pragmatic purpose as some of the tests Eddie was subjected to required easy access to the “old noodle” as Harley called it, on occasion.
         “Edward, I’m going to ask you a series of control questions and then we can begin.”
         “Okay.”
         “Are you currently in the seated position?”
         “Yes.”
         Ellis made a note.
         “Is your name Edward?”
         “So I’ve been told.”
         “Let’s try that again without the quip, shall we?”
         “Yes, my name is Edward.  Or Eddie.”
         Ellis made another note.
         “Would you like some water, Edward?”
         “Yes!  Thank you,” Eddie began as he opened the bottle of water.
         “That was not an invitation, Edward.  That was one of the questions.  Put the water down, please.”
         Eddie gripped the bottle tightly and set it on top of the machine next to him.  Ellis glanced at him in mild annoyance and moved the bottle to the floor.
         “And how many people are in this room currently?”
         “Two.”
         Ellis made another note and brought up a series of questions on his computer.  The first was religious in nature and the second was another control question.  The questions read:

IN THE NEW TESTAMENT, HOW MANY DISCIPLES WERE STATED AS FOLLOWING JESUS?

HOW MANY MILES DID YOU RUN TODAY?

         Ellis asked the first question.
         “In the New Testament, how many disciples were stated as following Jesus?”
         “What?”
         “I can repeat the question, if you would like, Edward.  Please pay attention.”
         “I heard the question, but I’m not sure I understand.  Where is the New Testament and who is Jesus?”
         “Please answer the question, Edward.”
         “How am I supposed to answer something I don’t even understand?”
         “That’s how things get solved.  People provide their best estimation of things and proceed to learn until they discover that they are correct or they discard their answer and formulate a new one.”
         “But… it’s like asking-”
         “Your best guess, Edward.”
         “Fine.  How about twelve?  Twelve disciples in Testament land following Jesus around with numbers on their shirt.”
         Ellis made several notes.
         “Ready for the next question here, Doctor Ellis.”
         Ellis paused at the next question and exited the program.
         “No more questions.  That will suffice, Edward.  You may drink your water, now.”
         Eddie snagged the water bottle, opened it and drained it in entirety.  He put the cap back on slowly and turned his head to find Doctor Ellis staring at him.
         “Edward, I think it’s time you met someone.  A fellow resident here.”
         “What?  There are other orphans here?”
         “Not quite.  But this boy is close to your age and he is a little like you used to be.  He’s in a wheelchair.  You remember what that was like?”
         “Vaguely.  I still don’t remember very much from that time.”
         “Well.  You’ll meet him soon.  Edward… if you value your freedoms and privileges here, you will treat this boy with great respect.  I won’t have him feel worse about himself because of something you say or do.”
         “You got it, Doc.”
         “You may go to your room, now.  You are excused until 5:25.”
         Eddie left the room and muttered to himself.  My freedoms and privileges.  Yeah, right.  After crossing nine rooms and turning right, Eddie entered his room and took a seat at his desk, firing up the computer provided for him with learning materials in interactive format.
         “Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves,” Eddie said as he began typing quickly.
         Characters flew across Eddie’s screen rapidly and came to a stop at a blinking cursor.  Eddie entered another command and a window on the screen appeared titled: Medical Notes: Ellis, Birck.  Eddie found the entry in which Ellis was currently typing and he watched the words appear on his own screen.
         Physical performance and ability seems to have leveled out with the passage of puberty, but is nothing short of remarkable by any human standard.  Subject ran twelve miles in less than one hour and his heart rate barely rose above 130.  Most intriguing is the mental acuity that continues to mature.  Subject is capable of understanding most concepts and retention of knowledge absorbed is somewhere near 90 percent in both short and long term tests.  Beyond all of this, subject appears to have – and I hesitate to even postulate such a claim – some form of undeveloped pre-cognition.  Subject was asked to provide an answer to a question he could not begin to understand and out of some intuition, he provided the answer to the next question in the order.  I feel that if I studied the effects of the serum for the rest of my life, I may not unravel all of its mysteries.
         Eddie sat back and stared at the screen in silent thought for a moment before wheeling his chair to the corner and removing a false block in the wall.  He drew a piece of toast from his pocket and held it between his fingertips along the floor.  In short time, a mouse appeared and sniffed the toast briefly before taking it in his paws and chewing quickly.  Eddie held out his empty hand and the mouse climbed on top of it, sitting still as Eddie moved him to his lap and stared at his roommate.  He stroked the mouse with the tip of his index finger and stared blankly at the number 47 tattooed on the back of his cohort.
         “Buddy, I wish you could find a way out of this cage.”
         Eddie jerked his hands across his hips to cover his lap as the door to his room opened suddenly.
         “Sorry!  Sorry, man.  I’ll come back later,” Harley said, shifting his stare to the floor and backing out of the room.  Eddie quickly shifted 47 to his pocket.
         “No, it’s okay.  You just startled me,” Eddie said with a sigh of relief.
         “If you say so!  I’m just dropping off some lunch and saying hey before I head back upstairs.”
         Without Harley realizing it, Eddie had assembled a crude idea of the building’s dimensions and layout through the conversations he’d had with the man that had become the closest thing he had to a friend.
         “What’s on the menu?”
         “Same old shit, partner.  But with some extra toast,” Harley winked.
         Eddie’s face flushed and a small panic rose inside him.
         “You’re not gonna… rat me out, are you?”
         Harley laughed heartily at the pun and placed lunch on a small table.
         “As long as I’m not cleaning up after your friend, it’s no business of mine.  How’s Doctor Asshole treating you?  Another day on the treadmill?”
         “Bingo.  A glorified wheel for the biggest mouse in the house.”
         “Next time, stick his ass on the treadmill and see how long he lasts.  Matter of fact, call me first so I can watch,” Harley checked his watch.
         “You need to get back upstairs, huh?”
         “Yeah, I’ve got a ton of-”
         “Kelly’s working today, isn’t she?” Eddie interrupted.
         “Am I that obvious?”
         “I can smell that cologne from here and you took your time shaving today.”
         “You’re a sharp kid, Ward.  I don’t care what they say about you upstairs.”
         Harley had called Eddie by the name Ward even after his real name was made known.  More than having his name on his tee shirt, Eddie enjoyed the affectionate nickname Harley had given him.  From a certain point of view, it felt good not to be like everyone else.  Harley gave an affected tip of the hat and began backing the lunch tray out of the room.
         “Hey, Harley,” Eddie called.
         Harley stopped and gave an inquisitive look.
         “Who is Jesus?”
         Harley’s face remained expressionless for a short time before a slightly pained look crossed it for a moment and disappeared.
         “Brother, whoever he is, I think he forgot about you a long time ago.”