Chapter Twenty-Four: Area 7
Area 7 is copyrighted 2001 to Matthew Reilly. Honestly, it's a real book, and it's about as bad as Dexter says it is.
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"And then from out of nowhere, a giant reptilian head came bursting out of the water and lunged at Schofield's head."
There was an incredulous pause, then,
"That makes little sense. We know exactly where he is - in the decompression area and by the water, which is most definitely somewhere. I believe we can safely assume that these are mutant Komodo dragons, too, because while they can get quite large, describing their heads as 'giant' is a bit much. Moreover, they don't swim. But I digress."
He was no longer floating in nothingness. He had a body and form now. For the most part he was relaxed, but returning to the world outside his mind brought some discomfort, especially since there was something down his throat forcing air into his lungs and he could not easily breathe at his usual deep, slow pace. Still, he was warm and the bed was soft and he recognized the accent as the person that had been with him the most. He had no idea of what he was reading or even talking about, but it was better than listening to nothing.
"Schofield rolled quickly, avoiding the fast-moving jaws as they snapped down an inch away from his face.
Jesus!
It was a Komodo dragon. The largest lizard in the world, a known man-eater - Whaaaat? Yeah, if you happen to drop dead in front of it. They're land animals and carrion eaters! There is no proof whatsoever that they've ever killed a human and the ones that get bitten are just plain stoopid. What are Komodo dragons doing paddling around like sharks? The President had said they kept some of them here - along with the Kodiak bears, in cages on Level 5 - for use on the Sinovirus project."
Another pause punctuated the reading. "You know, Ben, President and Mrs. Adams kept an alligator in the White House gardens. The Marquis de Lafayette gave it to them. Perhaps the marquis had a sense of humor. That may have sparked this presidential tendency to keep exotic pets and inspired Matthew Reilly in this carefully researched masterpiece that almost rivals Sumo Slammer fanfic. "
Ben? Yes. That was his name. Ben . . . Ten? Sumo Slammers? A memory stirred. He knew those words. As he pondered their significance, the young voice continued.
"The electric locks on their cages, it seemed, hadn't survived the power shut-down either. Really? Astounding. And they had no back-ups on the cages holding gigantic, vicious, man-eating lizards that can kill by land and sea. Not even a hasp. Brilliant.
At the sight of the Komodo dragon in the pool, a thin smile cracked Lucifer's hideous face.
He lifted Schofield off the ground and held him out over the reptile-infested pool. As he hung above it, legs kicking, hands grappling at Lucifer's enormous fists, Schofield saw the dark alligatorlike bodies of at least two dragons in the water beneath him. Yeeee-ah. Because two constitute an infestation. I am not even going to touch on the logistics, body mechanics, and leverage issues this maneuver by Mr. Lucifer Leary raises. And I correct my earlier statement: this almost rivals bad Sumo Slammers fanfic. And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Mr. Tennyson."
"Sir?"
Another voice interrupted the commentary. He'd heard this person speak before. He was always calm and polite, but there was a no-nonsense tone to his voice.
"Yes, Morton?"
"Rehlander was wondering if you're going to be done with that soon. He hasn't finished it yet."
"What?"
"The book you're reading, sir. Area 7. It's Rehlander's. It went missing from the comm center a few days ago when he got back from his break."
Ben opened his eyes a crack, enjoying the light and colors, and he could sense the person beside him quietly fuming. Not really grasping all that he saw, he watched with interest as a redheaded boy slapped a book close with unnecessary force, growling as he did so. His mind was sorting things out - the boy, his anger, the comfortable room, pain in his throat, his awareness of his own self - when the new voice asked,
"You okay, sir?"
"Fine," growled Dexter savagely. "It seems Ben is once again a victim of Kevin Levin. I can't imagine how many brain cells have been murdered reading this rag. Here. Return it to Rehlander, please. Just get it well away from me."
The boy held out the book, but the tall man that entered the room didn't take it or look at it. He was staring right back at Ben, his blue eyes wide.
"Sir, look! He's awake!"
"What?"
The redhead whirled, and then gasped as Ben shifted his focus from the man to him.
"Ben! Sergeant, quickly! Fetch Dr. Cardon!"
Sleep was weighing him down again, but still he looked with great interest at the elated boy as the blond man went to fetch. There was astonishment and delight in his expression as he laid his hand atop Ben's. He could feel . . . not skin or fabric, though the hand was warm. Puzzling.
"Can you hear me?"
He pressed his fingers closed, and the simple response rendered the boy speechless. The boy smiled and looked up as another man strode into the room and leaned over Ben, looking supremely happy as he said,
"Good morning, Mr. Tennyson. Nice to see you're awake."
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"So how long did he stay awake?"
"About twenty minutes. Long enough for Gwen to get there. She was in her robe and slippers. He was back to sleep a minute later." Dexter was positively aglow as he stirred his coffee, leaning his chin on his hand as he happily told his father every detail of Ben waking up, blissfully unaware that the Professor had already read Cardon's assessment. It had been ages since Utonium had seen his ward so happy and animated, and he would do nothing to spoil it. He cut Dexter a thick slice of cheese strudel and set the plate before him as they celebrated.
"Were you there the whole time?"
"Of course. Dr. Cardon asked him a variety of yes and no questions to ascertain the state of his memory and motor function."
"How'd he score?"
Dexter was smiling as he laid into his pastry. "According to the doctor, Ben did very well, all things considered. He said if Ben manages to stay awake a bit longer today, he'll see about taking him off life support."
"Really?"
"Yes! Dr. Cardon expects that he'll have trouble speaking, but with the ventilator down his throat he hasn't got a chance of that."
Sitting back with his coffee in hand, the Professor watched more than listened as Dexter carried on. The tension of this endless week seemed to have vanished in twenty or so minutes of Ben Tennyson opening his eyes and regaining awareness. It had been eight hard, long days since the Omnitrix had been taken off of Ben's arm. In that whole time, Dexter had spent as much time as possible with his friend, reading to Ben, quietly talking to him, or just sitting there in the room with him. Utonium had not failed to note that as best he could manage it, Dexter kept the opposite schedule of Kevin, and the two boys rarely met. It was just as well. There was no love lost between them, and Dexter saw no reason to subject himself to Levin's childish goading. He admitted to Utonium (and probably no one else) that Kevin had hoodwinked him (his words) with that appalling book Area 7. Patrick Utonium knew perfectly well that was the sort of puerile behavior that Dexter would never forget.
"So now what happens?" asked Utonium, pouring them more coffee.
"Dr. Cardon says he'll have to ascertain what, if any, after-effects from a coma and electrocution Ben suffer from. He may need physical and speech therapy, but that remains to be seen."
"Did he say when Ben might wake up again?"
"He doesn't know. It all depends on Mr. Tennyson and how soon he wants to eat."
He smiled. It had taken a lot of effort on Utonium's part to get Ben to eat more when he was visiting. For some strange reason his household dynamics always seemed reversed - the girls couldn't eat enough while the boys barely seemed to consume enough to sustain life, and while the girls gradually pulled away from their father and became more active socially, Dexter just grew closer and closer to his father. Utonium didn't mind, knowing that Dexter was subconsciously making up for years of neglect. When Dexter was ready he would face the world on his own terms. Until then, he was enjoying being an older brother and son in a tight, loving - albeit odd - family.
Watching the redhead devour strudel, the Professor took quiet delight in Dexter's renewed appetite. The bruises Spidermonkey had inflicted on him were fading rapidly and now that Ben was recovering, he was truly happy. He could even laugh at how horrid and inaccurate he thought Area 7 was, though the Professor knew that the book was making the rounds through all the ranks of DexLabs Security. Even Kilroy had read it.
"Going back to Medical?"
Dexter shook his head. "Not until later."
"Kevin?"
Dexter drew a deep breath and adjusted his glasses, delaying tactics that were answer enough for the Professor. He was definitely avoiding Kevin Levin. "Actually, I need to go speak to Chief Barns about rescheduling the test flight for the January A-3. The FAA didn't appreciate us canceling so abruptly so we'll make nice and let them set the date this time."
"Call me later and I'll go with you to see Ben."
Dexter smiled, accepting the offer of a shield. "Thanks, Dad."
It was early in the evening when they were both free again, and Dexter met Utonium at his genetics lab. With the ubiquitous Sgt. Morton following behind them to keep Number 2 and just about everyone else away from Dexter, they walked to Medical. The Professor had not called ahead, but given the hour he expected Gwen and Kevin to be there. KND doctor Seventy-Seven met them. The Japanese boy was smiling so wide his eyes were mere slits.
"Good news," he said, intercepting them. "Ben was awake for about an hour this afternoon and Dr. Cardon and I took him off of life support."
"That's excellent, Doctor," Dexter replied. "I wasn't informed."
Seventy-Seven nodded, his unruly black hair flopping into his eyes at the motion. "Dr. Cardon didn't want anyone around to see it. Yakking up a ventilator tube can be pretty nasty, trust me."
The Professor made a little sound of agreement, thereby cutting off any sharp reply Dexter might have made. Instead he asked, "Has he spoken?"
"A little. Dr. Cardon doesn't think he'll have much trouble with his speech, he'll just have to take it slowly. His throat's really sore."
"Has he got any idea of what's happened to him?"
"He just thinks he was hurt right now. We don't want to give him too many details yet."
Asked Dexter, "May we visit him?"
The young doctor nodded. "Of course."
As expected, Gwen and Kevin were already in the room, but to Utonium's intense pleasure, not only was Ben awake, but he was sitting up and being held tightly by Gwen. The brunet leaned heavily, weakly on his cousin, resting his head on her shoulder and looking as if he wanted to go right back to sleep. Kevin stood close by, a faint, affectionate smile on his lips as he watched the reunion. For a long while the owner and president of DexCorp went unnoticed as they stood in the doorway, and together they enjoyed the sight of their friend. Ben was pale and thin and his hair needed to be washed, but he was awake and breathing and moving and these simple actions rendered father and son speechless as they drank in this moment. Dexter looked up at the Professor with bright eyes and smiled, the motion attracting Kevin's attention. The Osmosian seemed about to speak when Gwen raised her head, noticing the scientists in their white coats. Her expression was closer to alarm than pleasure as Ben stirred and turned to see what she was looking at.
He blinked at them sleepily, his nose and cheeks still bearing faint red marks from the breathing apparatus that had helped keep him alive for over a week. Utonium found the blank look in Ben's eyes disturbing, but Dexter only saw his friend. Despite the presence of people he neither liked nor trusted, Dexter came dangerously close to a broad grin as he stepped into the room and closer to the bed.
"So good to see you awake again, Ben," he said, and Utonium could hear the happiness in his young voice and see it in his body language. He could tell it was taking every ounce of self control for Dexter to keep his voice even and his manner calm and to refrain from tackling the older teen. "I've missed you. How do you feel?"
Ben closed his eyes a few moments, finally opening them to stare at the boy beside his bed and rally his strength to reply. "Okay," he finally managed to whisper in a raspy voice. He barely sounded like himself. "Sore." He swallowed painfully, his eyes narrowing the least bit as he took in Dexter's strange mode of dress from heavy boots to his long lab coat and purple gloves, all the way up to his tinted glasses. The newly wakened teen struggled for a bit, clearly confused, and finally Ben asked,
"Have we . . . met?"
