Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,56
Dominic.
“No!” said Clive. “We’re not telling him a goddamn thing. I’m fine.” He glanced at Aaron, and for a split-second, terror flared in his eyes—before he fled down the hall.
“Number eleven, get out of my house,” said Dominic, and he raced after him, leaving Aaron alone.
Except for the melted ice rocking gently in Dominic’s glass, there was no sign of life. Aaron felt his heartbeat pulsing in the back of his head. Clive hadn’t even touched him; he was eight feet away, yet Aaron had actually felt his presence.
And was it just a coincidence that Clive had started bleeding at the same exact moment? Or was it some kind of backlash? Aaron didn’t finish the thought, though. Around him, the living room lamps faded. The orange bulbs winked out, and blackness immersed him. They must have been on a timer.
He could feel Clive pacing in the back rooms, his movements pivoting in his skull like a compass needle. Aaron jumped at a scratch, a patter of footsteps. But only his own erratic breathing pierced the silence. He backed against the wall and tiptoed downstairs.
Aaron had only just reached the front door when a car’s high beams glared into the marble entrance hall. The headlights flooded the room with blue light.
Doors slammed, tires kicked up gravel, and lanky shadows arced across the ceiling as the car drove back down the driveway. Male voices approached the front door and the handle twisted. Aaron flattened himself against the wall just in time, as Casler Selavio and Father Dravin stepped inside, both of them in red cloaks.
It was four in the morning. What the hell were they doing here?
Casler flipped on the lights, and Aaron realized his hiding place wasn’t a hiding place at all. He held his breath, but they didn’t turn around. Casler led Dravin straight across the room, and they ducked into the wine cellar. For a moment, the aitherscope’s silver orb beamed beyond the door before it clacked shut and silence flooded back.
Aaron let out his breath and headed for the front door, but he paused, hand poised at the handle. He glanced behind him. The wine cellar led to the dungeon.
It was four in the morning. Why were they even awake? So instead of leaving, Aaron followed them.
***
Aaron emerged at the bottom of the slimy stairs and tiptoed into the cavernous dungeon. While Dravin perused the laboratory, Casler booted up his laptop at a battered desk. The machine droned behind them. Its metal edges appeared blurry, almost transparent. Like a projection.
Aaron edged closer and slid behind a rack of medicine bottles.
“Just one more thing,” said Dravin. “I was under the impression that only the water molecules in the two vials were entangled. But when you introduced the red dye into that first vial, it clearly colored both. Dr. Selavio, correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems the molecules of red dye jumped as well.”
Casler smiled, pulled off his red cloak, and tossed it onto the chair. He wore his lab coat underneath. “You’re very perceptive,” he said, “but I’m afraid the demonstration was simply a magic trick designed to prove a point. The real fluid was pinched from me some weeks ago.”
Dravin raised his eyebrows. “And it wouldn’t be the first time Mr. Lilian did you a favor. May I ask how the trick was accomplished?”
“A pinhole in the top of the vial,” said Casler.
“But a magician never reveals his secrets,” said Dravin.
“I’m a doctor, not a magician,” said Casler.
“It seems to me you’re neither,” said Dravin, setting his own cloak on the desk and stepping over to the machine. He wore a black, clerical robe underneath. “You’re a politician. Is this it, then?”
“All two-hundred million volts of it.”
“And what is the machine’s secret?” said Dravin. “A pinhole in space?”
Casler’s smile widened as he typed in his password. “Very perceptive indeed.” He flicked the touchpad, and files flashed across the screen. “Although the entrance to the channel is slightly larger than a pinhole.”
“And where, may I ask, did you find the entrance?” said Dravin.
“I’m afraid it requires drilling,” said Casler. “It’s on the inside of the skull, just behind the visual cortex. I give my son credit for the discovery—” He laughed quietly. “His awful headaches.”
Dravin placed his palm on the machine and circled it slowly. “Dr. Selavio, how is this machine different than the machine you tested eighteen years ago?”
“This one reseals the hole.”
“So the subject lives?”
“The patient lives,” said Casler. “Forgive my sensitivity, Father.”