Page 8 of Sinner
The past two years spent at Biolum Industries weren’t her first in the field. Before that, she’d been deployed by the Sisterhood around the world, silently infiltrating male dominated government departments and powerful households. Each time she’d successfully manipulated her way inside, pretending to be someone she was not. Sometimes a nun, sometimes a seductress, but always lethal.
Satisfied with her ID, Redmond stepped aside and indicated to the retinal scanner embedded in the wall. Mary held her eyes to the plate. In seconds, the solid white door clicked open, revealing the distant sound of a crying baby. Her insides clenched. The child must be distressed if Mary could hear her wail through the solid double paned plate-glass that separated the children from the lab.
When Mary stepped into the lab, she took a moment to assess. Two scientists sat making notes on computers and testing samples of bio-hazardous material collected from the children. Beyond the two-way mirror were the living quarters of seven children, soon to be eight. Beds, cots, play mats, tables, a bathroom, a kitchenette, and an electronic doorway to a tiny rooftop garden with high walls to block the view of the city below. In the middle of the quarters, Sister Magdalene bounced a red-faced and tearful one-year-old in her arms.
“Good. You’re here,” Mary said to Gloria as she studied a microscope.
Gloria didn’t lift her head, but the second scientist Mao, faced Mary and put his finger to his lips in a “shush” sign.
It was common knowledge not to interrupt Gloria deep in process. The genius genetic-engineer had her quirks, that was for sure. The company pandered to every one of them because the success of the Project depended on what was in her head. And if someone triggered a meltdown by not respecting her process, what was in her head stayed in her head.
There was no time for waiting.
Mary cleared her throat then hummed a tune familiar to Gloria. It was a trigger they’d both agreed on if ever Mary had to disrupt the status quo and change the plan. Within seconds, Gloria lifted her gaze from her scope and locked eyes onto Mary.
A classically beautiful woman, Gloria had long, dark lustrous hair like Mary’s own, but the similarities ended there. Gloria’s hair was wavy and pulled back in a disregarded top knot. She was a pale, blue-eyed delicate wildflower where Mary was an olive skinned, dark-eyed piece of machinery programed for one lethal purpose—to enforce the Sisterhood’s mission. Gloria was also thirty-eight weeks pregnant and wore a white lab coat that barely covered her bulging belly.
“Julius is coming,” Gloria said to Mary, her voice a thin wisp.
The notable glimmer in her eyes would become a doting sparkle when the director arrived later. Mary was sure this infatuation was the reason the clever woman put away her moral compass to become the breeding mare for the Project. Where this project was concerned, many people ignored morality, including the Vatican. In fact, when Gloria announced years ago that she could isolate the genome sequence for each deadly sin, the Vatican became the biggest investor with a controlling interest.
Because outside this building, the world was falling apart.
Mary glanced at the two-way window, and her eyes landed on the collection of pebbles she’d brought in, just like the ones she sometimes left at Flint’s desk when he wasn’t there. The walk from her apartment in the morning took her through a destitute part of town. The pebbles were sourced from a decrepit building crumbling into an old neighborhood garden where children used to play. This morning, she’d picked up a stone from between a homeless man and what may have been a dead body. No one cared, but she wanted to remind herself of a better future for the children—one where a garden like that had flourished, not degraded.
The world had changed in the past decade. The selfie generation grew up, and with them the sin of greed exploded on a catastrophic scale. Where one sin went, the rest followed. Envy, lust, sloth, wrath, pride, gluttony… even the forgotten deadly sin, despair. Crime became uncontrollable, unrelenting… vicious. Innocent people died every day. Prisons were at capacity. Only last week Mary had seen on the news a teenage boy massacred his family over an argument involving the last piece of pork crackling at the family dinner. Every night there was another story, another death.
The world had gone insane and authorities were at a loss for what to do. That was, until Gloria announced her plan: genetically engineer soldiers capable of sensing deadly levels of sin. They could prevent crime rather than clean up the mess afterwards. That was her dream. It was Julius’s dream, too, but after his daughter and wife died from negligent poisoning by a corporation—sloth—he lost his patience. As the years went on, more and more investors joined the Project, each of them having a different idea of how the children would be used. They wanted soldiers. More fighters. Their answer was to meet violence with violence. Sin for sin.
“Yes, Julius is coming,” Mary agreed, a bitter taste now in her mouth. “And he’s bringing people you won’t like.”
Mary’s vision had shown that Julius was forming a splinter cell of the company, one that believed the world was dying a slow death and putting sinners out of their misery was the only hope of survival. They called themselves the Syndicate. If Mary didn’t get the children out now, they would be used in the most horrific way.
Gloria looked at the second scientist. “Mao, I think we’re done for the day. You can go home.”
“No, wait,” Mary said. Gloria frowned at her. This wasn’t part of the plan, but… “Before you leave, there is someone I need you to bring here. Flint Fydler from the tech department. He’s tall, bearded, wears a baseball cap. Hard to miss.”
Mao darted a nervous glance between Gloria and Mary. “It’s nine in the morning. Are you sure you want me to go home?”
“Yes,” Gloria said, following Mary’s lead. “After you deliver Flint to us.”
Mary exhaled in relief. They’d talked at length about the plan and possible variables, but sometimes Gloria missed social queues.
Gloria was the surrogate and lead geneticist on the Project. Despite donating her eggs, she refused to be called the mother because she had no contact with the children. Their loud and sudden noises flustered her. In fact, much about the children flustered her, so she watched and recorded from behind the two-way mirror. Gloria was the only person in this godforsaken place who knew and supported Mary’s plan to extricate the children.
It hadn’t been easy convincing Gloria. It had taken most of the two years, many demonstrations of predictions, and in the end, Gloria respected Mary’s gift. She said magic was just science we didn’t understand yet. Much of the work Gloria did seemed like magic to Mary, including what she was doing right now.
“Is there anything else, Mao?” Gloria asked.
Mao lifted his eyebrows and returned his clipboard to the bench before exiting the room.
