Free Web NovelChapter 269: Chapter 268 - The Source and the Chance
Iyisha threw her weight against the restraints hard enough to make the bed strike the cabinet beside it.
The impact rattled the metal tray near her hip. Two nurses grabbed her shoulders before she could twist again, and one doctor caught her knee with both hands when she tried to drive it into his chest. Another doctor moved fast along the side of the bed, opening a case filled with vials and syringes.
"Let me go!" Iyisha shouted, her voice breaking under the alarm still pulsing somewhere beyond the walls. "You told me no harm would come to me."
Frankenstein stood at the foot of the bed. His coat was buttoned wrong near the middle, and there was sweat near his temple, but his eyes stayed fixed on her.
"And I am keeping my word," he said. "No harm will come to you."
"Please." Her voice cracked. "Please don’t do anything to my baby."
Frankenstein straightened. "This baby puts you in danger. We are doing this for your own good."
Iyisha yanked against the cuff until pain cut through her wrist. "I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you."
"Do not move," he said. "You will tear your skin."
A nurse reached for the hem of her shirt.
Iyisha snapped her head toward her. "Don’t touch me."
The nurse froze, but only for a second.
"Cut it," Frankenstein said.
The scissors opened with a small metallic scrape.
Iyisha stared at them, and the fear hit so hard that her breath stopped. "No. Don’t you dare. Don’t touch me."
The nurse slid the scissors under the fabric.
Iyisha fought harder. Her shoulder slammed into the mattress, and her hips twisted under the belt across her stomach. The shirt split up the center with one clean cut. Cold air struck her skin before another nurse pulled the ruined cloth away from her chest.
"Get off me!" she screamed. "Get off me!"
"Hold her left arm," Frankenstein said.
A soldier stepped in and pinned her forearm to the mattress.
Iyisha saw the needle.
Everything in her narrowed around it. The nurse had it ready near the line in her arm. The liquid inside the syringe was clear and small, too small for the terror it brought with it.
"No," she gasped. "No, no, no."
Frankenstein took the syringe from the nurse himself.
Iyisha stared at his hand. "You coward."
He connected the syringe to the port in her IV line. "This is for the greater good."
He pushed the drug in.
Iyisha fought it before it fully entered her blood. She clenched her fists. She lifted her head. She tried to keep her eyes on him because if she looked away too long, she felt like they would take everything from her while her body lay open and useless under their hands.
The drug did not knock her out at once. It moved through her in pieces, slow enough for her to feel each loss. Her fingers loosened first. Her arms grew heavy. Her legs stopped answering even while her mind screamed at them to kick, to twist, to do anything. Her breathing stayed fast, but her chest felt weaker with every rise.
"No," she whispered, but the word barely left her mouth.
The doctors kept working.
One nurse peeled the cut shirt from under her shoulders. Another loosened the lower restraint only enough to pull the remaining fabric away, then locked it again before Iyisha could shift. Cold pads were pressed onto her chest, and wires trailed from them to the monitor beside the bed.
The machine began to pulse in a steady rhythm.
Iyisha heard it too clearly.
A nurse lifted her arm and secured another strap higher on her forearm. Someone put a cuff around her upper arm. Someone else checked the line in her vein. Her body was handled in parts, like she had already stopped being a person to them.
A low sound slipped out of her throat.
She was still awake.
She was still there.
Frankenstein moved beside her head and leaned over her. He opened one eyelid with his thumb and shone a narrow beam of light into her eye.
Iyisha wanted to flinch away from it.
Nothing moved except the small shake in her breath.
He moved the light to her other eye. "Is she conscious?"
The doctor beside the monitor looked at the readings. "No, sir. She is below response."
Iyisha screamed inside her own skull.
I’m here.
Her lips parted, but only air came out.
Frankenstein kept the light on her eye a moment longer than he needed to. Then he lowered it. "Any sign of awareness?"
"No, sir," the doctor said. "Her body is still reacting to stress, but she should not be able to understand or remember clearly."
Iyisha stared at the ceiling lights while terror moved through her useless body.
He was wrong.
She was hearing everything.
Frankenstein turned away from her. "Continue preparation."
The nurses moved around her with quicker hands. A sheet was pulled away and replaced with a colder drape. Her body was shifted by others. Her legs were moved and fixed into supports despite the useless pressure she tried to force into her muscles. Straps tightened across her thighs and ankles, and an overhead lamp was adjusted until the hard white circle of light fell lower on the bed.
Iyisha tried to close her knees.
Nothing happened.
Her breathing broke through her nose in short, uneven sounds.
One nurse laid a drape across her stomach and another lower across her hips. The fabric did not comfort her. It made everything worse because it meant they were not stopping. They were preparing.
A doctor stood at the instrument tray and counted tools under his breath while the older doctor with the loose mask approached Frankenstein near the side table.
"We are still ending the pregnancy first?" the older doctor asked.
Iyisha’s heart slammed.
The monitor betrayed her.
The beeping quickened.
A nurse looked toward the screen. "Heart rate is climbing."
"Stress response," the monitor doctor said. "Sedation is still holding."
Frankenstein did not look away from the older doctor. "Yes. The pregnancy ends first."
The older doctor looked toward Iyisha’s stomach. "The child may have what she has."
"It may," Frankenstein said. "That is the problem."
Iyisha tried to move her head.
Her neck barely shifted.
The older doctor frowned. "If it carries even part of her evolution, then it could be more valuable than we thought."
"It could also carry nothing useful," Frankenstein said. "It could die before birth. It could damage her body before we finish. It could become another unstable case like the sister."
Cena.
Iyisha’s fingers twitched once against the sheet.
Nobody noticed.
The younger doctor stepped closer. "Two from the same family survived the change. That has never happened before."
"No," Frankenstein said. "Nothing close."
"Then the baby might be the first natural proof."
Frankenstein turned his head toward him. "Natural proof is not enough."
The younger doctor went quiet.
Frankenstein set the tablet on the table. "A child made by chance gives us chance. That is all. It may inherit the right parts from her, or it may not. It may survive, or it may not. We wait months, perhaps longer, and at the end we may have nothing."
The older doctor’s eyes moved to Iyisha again. "But her eggs."
"Her eggs give us a starting point," Frankenstein said. "We do not wait for nature to choose. We choose. We take the cells from the source. We test them. We expose them the way we need. We keep what works and discard what fails."
Iyisha’s stomach turned.
The drug held even that inside her.
The older doctor lowered his voice. "You are talking about making children for testing."
"I am talking about making survival repeatable."
"They would still be children."
"They would be the first generation that can live in what the world has become."
The younger doctor looked shaken. "You really believe her line can do that?"
Frankenstein looked down at the file. "Her sister survived a change that should have torn her body apart. Crude, yes. Violent, yes. But she survived it. Iyisha is the same."
The room went quiet.
Iyisha stared at the ceiling lights.
She could hear every word.
She could understand every word.
Her body lay useless under the straps while they discussed her child like a failed option and her body like a door they had finally learned how to open.
The younger doctor looked toward the monitor. "Then the baby is still a risk." frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
"Yes."
"But the eggs are the method."
"Yes."
The older doctor exhaled slowly. "If we proceed too quickly, we may lose the only source we have."
"If we wait," Frankenstein said, "we may lose her before we take anything useful."
"You mean because of the intruder."
Frankenstein’s eyes sharpened. "Because people keep coming for her."
Iyisha’s heart jumped.
Malcolm.
The monitor answered for her.
The beeping quickened again.
The nurse beside it looked down. "Another spike."
Frankenstein looked at Iyisha.
For one sick second, she thought he knew.
The monitor doctor spoke fast. "Still no purposeful movement."
The older doctor studied her face. "Are you certain she cannot hear us?"
"She is below response," Frankenstein said.
"That is not what I asked."
Frankenstein did not answer at once.
Iyisha stared at the ceiling, trapped behind her own eyes.
Then Frankenstein said, "Even if some part of her hears, she cannot stop us."
The words slid cold through her.
The younger doctor looked away first. "What about consent records?"
Frankenstein’s face did not move. "There is no court left for her to run to."
"There may be one later."
"Then they can thank us later."
The older doctor looked at the tray again. "If we end the pregnancy, preserve everything from it. We may still learn something."
"Preserve what is useful," Frankenstein said.
"And after that?"
"Blood. Tissue. Eggs. Everything that can give us the line."
The younger doctor swallowed. "And if the child shows stronger signs than expected?"
"Then we adjust."
Iyisha tried to scream.
Only a small sound left her throat.
A nurse glanced down at her. "She’s vocalizing."
"Reflex," the monitor doctor said.
Frankenstein looked at Iyisha again.
His voice stayed calm.
"The child is chance. She is the source. Do not confuse the two. We need to choose what’s best for humanity."
The alarm cut through the room harder than before.
One sharp blast rolled through the walls, followed by a voice from the speaker.
"Security breach. Inner access compromised. All medical staff remain inside secured rooms."
Every person froze.
The nurse holding the tray stopped in the middle of the floor. The older doctor turned toward the door. The soldier inside the room raised his rifle, but his feet stayed planted.
Frankenstein’s hand closed around the edge of the table.
The door opened, and a soldier rushed in with blood on one sleeve and his breath harsh under his helmet. "Sir."
Frankenstein turned sharply. "Why are you entering my procedure room?"
"An intruder entered the building. He crossed the outer wing and reached Sector Two."
The room held still.
Iyisha’s heart hit hard enough to make the monitor race.
The nurse beside it looked down. "Her heart rate is rising again."
Frankenstein ignored the nurse and looked at the soldier. "Are the sectors sealed?"
"Yes, sir. Sector One through Four are locked. Internal gates are down."
"Cameras?"
"Some are out. Control lost feeds in the south corridor and the west service hall."
"Can he reach the control room from Sector Two?"
"Yes, sir, but the control room has high security. He cannot enter it without command clearance."
"Then he is contained."
The soldier nodded, but his grip tightened around the rifle.
Frankenstein saw it. "Speak."
The soldier swallowed. "He killed the first response team."
The younger doctor stepped back from the table.
Frankenstein’s face barely changed. "How many?"
"Six confirmed. Two missing. One camera caught him taking a rifle before the feed cut."
Iyisha stared at the ceiling through the drug haze.
Malcolm was inside.
He had come fast.
Too fast for them.
The soldier kept speaking. "He is moving through maintenance access. We think someone opened doors ahead of him, or he forced the locks manually."
Frankenstein’s eyes sharpened. "No one forced those locks manually."
"Then he has help."
Frankenstein looked down at Iyisha.
She could not speak.
She could barely breathe.
He stepped closer to the bed. "You have a very stubborn man, don’t you?"
Her lips moved.
No sound came out.
Frankenstein leaned lower, his face entering the hard white light above her. "I should have had him killed when we got you here."
Iyisha’s eyes stayed on him.
"But thanks to him," Frankenstein said, "we found you."
Another tear slid sideways into her hair.
Frankenstein straightened and looked at the doctors. "Hasten the procedure."
The older doctor stiffened. "With a breach inside the facility?"
"As long as he does not reach control, he’ll be trapped. Continue."
The soldier shifted. "Sir, we should move you to Sector Four."
"I cannot go while she is on this table."
"Sir, if he reaches this hall—"
"If he reaches this hall, your men will shoot him before he crosses the glass."
The soldier’s jaw tightened. "Yes, sir."
Frankenstein pointed toward the door. "Double the guard outside. Seal the adjacent rooms. If he enters Sector Three, kill him there. Do not let him see her."
Iyisha’s chest tightened under the strap.
No.
Not Malcolm.
The soldier nodded and backed out.
The door sealed behind him.
For a moment, nobody moved.
The alarm kept pulsing through the walls. The doctors looked at one another. The nurses waited with trays in their hands. The soldier inside the room stared at the door like he expected it to break open.
Frankenstein turned slowly. "We are not stopping."
The older doctor drew a breath through his nose. "Then we need deeper sedation before we begin."
"She is already below response."
"For movement, yes," the older doctor said. "But not for stress. Her heart is climbing every time his location is mentioned. If she crashes during the procedure, we lose everything."
Frankenstein looked toward the monitor. "Increase sedation."
The nurse moved to the IV line.
Iyisha tried to pull away.
Only her fingers dragged against the sheet.
A small moan slipped out of her.
Frankenstein lifted the flashlight again and opened Iyisha’s eye.
The beam burned into her.
Iyisha stared back from the only place left inside her body that still belonged to her.
For a second, Frankenstein did not move.
Then the older doctor asked, "Is she conscious?"
Frankenstein lowered the light. "No."
Iyisha’s heart pounded harder.
Frankenstein stepped away from her head and looked at the room. "Begin."
The nurse pushed more drug into the line.
Iyisha felt the cold spread through her arm.
The ceiling lights stretched and sharpened. Sound came closer instead of farther away. The alarm. The monitor. The tray. Frankenstein’s shoes on the floor. A nurse breathing too fast behind her mask.
She did not disappear.
She stayed trapped inside the body they thought they had silenced.
The older doctor moved to the side of the bed. "We need the first samples before termination."
Frankenstein’s head turned. "Explain."
"If her body reacts badly, we may lose clean blood after. Take blood now. Take tissue where we can. Preserve current readings before the system changes."
Frankenstein looked toward the monitor. "Fine. Take what you need. Quickly."
A nurse rolled a smaller tray closer. Another doctor took Iyisha’s arm and turned it outward. She felt the pressure of fingers against her skin. She felt the needle enter. She felt warmth leave her body in slow pulls.
Her eyes stayed on the ceiling.
She thought of Malcolm somewhere beyond the locked sectors, moving through red lights and gun smoke with blood on his face.
Do not come here.
The thought came weak and desperate.
Then another came after it, harder.
Come faster.
A doctor near the table spoke in a low voice. "If this works, we can rebuild the response program. Not just soldiers. Not just subjects. A full line."
The younger doctor did not answer at once. When he did, his voice sounded smaller. "And if it does not work?"
Frankenstein replied without looking up. "Then we repeat it until it does."
"With her?"
"With whatever we can take from her."
Iyisha’s eyes burned again.
Her child was still inside her.
Her body was still warm.
The soldier inside the room moved toward the glass wall. "Something changed."
Frankenstein looked up. "Report."
The soldier pressed one hand against the receiver in his ear. His face tightened. "Sector Two gate is still down."
"Then hold position."
"No, sir." The soldier’s eyes moved to the door. "The control room might have been compromised."
Frankenstein’s gaze dropped to Iyisha.
For one second, she saw something pass across his face.
Uncertainty.
Iyisha wanted to smile.
Her mouth barely moved.
