Chapter 6

Reid found Sean and his friends almost as soon as he entered the dining hall. "Reid! Over here!" Sean called, waving his arm so Spencer could see him. The place was much more crowded than it had been at breakfast, so Reid wove his way through the crowd to Sean's table.

"Everyone, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, newly arrived," Sean said by way of introduction. "Reid, these are my fellow exiles: Wendy O'Shanahan, Louis Dubois, and Michael Watkins."

Everyone greeted Reid and Louis ushered Reid into the chair next to him. "Hello," Louis said as Reid settled in. "How are you finding our little prison in paradise?"

Reid fought down a smile. "Exactly that, a prison in paradise. Do you think there's any chance at parole?"

Michael gave an acerbic laugh and rapped the table with his hand. "Ha! You've got a snowball's chance, kid."

Reid shrugged and took the tablet that Sean handed him. "Thought I'd ask."

"Go ahead and order, and we'll chat until the food comes," Sean said.

Reid scanned his wristband and scrolled through his menu. The lunch options were pretty nice and he felt his stomach sit up and take notice. He could take his pick from wraps, salads, soups, sandwiches, and a few small, hot dishes, like pasta with vegetables or chicken and vegetable potstickers. Reid settled on half of a chicken and spinach wrap and a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup. Once he'd made that selection, things like cakes and cookies and ice cream disappeared and he was left with a fresh fruit bowl, strawberry and orange salad, or frozen yogurt. He opted for the fresh fruit and set the tablet aside. "If I had to pick one good thing about this place, I'd have to say it's the food," he said. "Meals are always like this?"

"That they are," Wendy confirmed. "We have very healthy meals every day, and even the comfort food is healthy! No more triple-cheese macaroni and cheese for me! Since arriving here I've lost a lot of weight-my husband wouldn't recognize me."

Reid blinked, a bit surprised and more than a little sorry for her. Everyone here had been taken away from their loved ones, and it just wasn't fair. "You have a husband?"

She nodded and grinned. "I feel sorry for the Director if Charlie ever gets a hold of him, and I hope I'm there to see it!"

"Dear lady, you should sell tickets!" Louis said brightly after taking a sip of water. "Just promise me that we'll all get front-row seats!"

Reid glanced at Louis. He liked how this man thought. "What if we live-streamed it?"

Louis did a double take and his smile became a bit more malicious. "Oh-ho, yes! Sean, I like this guy! I'm surrounded by handsome and intelligent men and one lovely, charming lady! I'm in heaven!"

Reid blushed. He'd had a feeling that Louis was homosexual, but the look he was giving Spencer was like having it confirmed by a brass band and fireworks.

"Louis, you're in heaven no matter who you're with," Sean said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, man."

"Sorry, I can't help myself," Louis responded. "Beauty is meant to be appreciated and life is meant to be lived, my friend."

"You don't live it; you debauch yourself with it," Michael pointed out. "Remember last Carnival? I couldn't believe you had the stamina for all the...fun...you had."

"Oh, Mikey, just think of the origin of the word 'carnival' and you'll know why I had to have so much fun," Louis sighed. He turned to Spencer. "Wait until you see Carnival! You'll have so much fun! Ever been to Mardi Gras? Do you like dressing up in costumes?"

"I like Halloween," Spencer admitted, trying to keep up with Louis's rapid-fire conversation. "I'll dress up for that, and for conventions."

Louis patted him on the shoulder. "You'll fit in just fine, Spencer."

"I hope that I'm gone before then," Spencer said quietly. "I don't want to stay here."

Sean looked over. "You're going to struggle with that feeling for a long time, but it won't do you any good to dwell on it. Like I told you, nobody's managed to get away."

"Has anyone come close?"

Reid would have had to be an idiot to miss the glances they exchanged. Louis began to fiddle with this silverware. "Umm…."

Reid's head whipped around to stare at him. "Was it you?"

Louis's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "Me? Oh, no. No, no, no. The only way I'm leaving this place is in a car, the plane, or on a boat! The one time I took a walk past the boundaries, I nearly stepped on a cottonmouth! No way in hell am I trying that again!"

Reid thought about the snakes around Las Vegas and shuddered. "Are there a lot of snakes around here?"

"There's at least one, which is more than enough to keep me away from the wilds," Louis said firmly. "To return to your question, the Director's special guest came pretty darn close. He was gone eight hours before they brought him back."

Reid blinked, confused. "Special guest?"

"Remember my telling you about the crazy man in the attic?" Sean asked.

"That was him?"

"That was him."

Their meals arrived then and everyone seemed to be keeping the conversation light deliberately after that. Of course, "light" was a relative term when it came to Reid and others with whom he shared certain characteristics. It wasn't long before they were deep in a discussion of the number phi and fractals that were based upon it. Reid ate, he chatted, and he felt as if he could keep talking all day, and even better, people were listening to him! So many times when he started talking about mathematics or his other fields of study with his coworkers he got a blank stare or a quizzical look. Being able to talk to people who understood what he was talking about and were as actually as enthusiastic about the topic as he was was incredible!

"You look like you're very happy with that bowl of fruit," Wendy teased him as Spencer started on his dessert.

Reid shook his head. "No, it's just nice to be able to talk to people about these things. I don't have many chances to do so outside of conferences or lectures."

Louis patted him on the shoulder. "We've all been there, sweetie. Whenever I tried to discuss geology or ornithology or ecology when I was younger, my parents would just look at me blankly and sigh. Mother wanted a lawyer, Dad wanted an athlete, and they ended up with me."

Wendy chuckled. "How did they get so lucky?"

Louis smiled and batted his eyelashes at her. "You flatterer, you! The answer to that...well, only God knows. I try to be humble about it."

Everybody started laughing then, Michael even pounding the table while wheezing. They kept chatting while they bussed their table and headed outside.

"What've you got next, kid?" Michael asked as they headed to the bike racks.

"Creative Crafting."

Michael's entire face lit up. "I love that class! I take it whenever I can!"

"I picked it at random, so I didn't read the description. What kind of class is it?"

"Think of it as an arts and crafts free-for-all. Each session you're taught how to do a different project using different materials and techniques. It's a great way to unwind."

"What kind of projects did you do?"

Louis guffawed and unlocked a bike. "Dear boy, what didn't he do? He made a stained-glass window, he built a wicker chair, he made a mosaic...the only thing he refused to do was take my requests when they worked with leather."

"With good reason," Michael said quickly.

"All I wanted was a pair of pants!"

"A pair of pants with a padded codpiece and all of it made out of buff-colored leather."

Louis smiled. "They were for a costume, and I feel I would have looked magnificent."

"Uh-huh. Why didn't you make them yourself?"

"Because I'm awful with anything to do with fabric or fibers. I am not any kind of tailor, but you do lovely work."

"Flattery's not going to get you that pair of pants, Louis."

Spencer was laughing under his breath and trying to hide his grin. "Are you two always like this?"

"Oh, all the time," Wendy said, unlocking a bike for herself. "It's very entertaining!"

They quickly made plans to meet up for dinner and they all headed their separate ways. Reid biked over to the arts center, located his locker, and found himself stuck once again by how much was in there. Drawing pads, pencils, charcoals, paints, palettes, brushes, canvas panels, a calligraphy set, bottles of ink, an apron and smock and other items stared out of the locker at him. What would he need? Sighing, Reid closed his locker and headed to the room designated for the class. If he needed something, he could always take the time to go and get it.

He entered the room and was assailed by a wall of scent. An older man with silver hair and a sunburned face was sitting at a worktable and looking over some papers. "Hi, there. Can I help you?"

"Ah, is this Creative Crafting?"

"That it is. I don't recognize you, so you must be the new student I was told I'm getting today. Dr. Spencer Reid?"

"That's right," Reid said, heading for the nearest window and opening it a crack. "Hoo, that's strong. What's that smell?"

The man sniffed and shrugged. "Wood stain, maybe? I've been in here all day, so I'm probably used to it. We're going to be making wooden wall art today. It's why we're meeting in the woodshop."

Reid looked around at the worktables and had visions of severing an appendage. Suddenly, he wasn't sure about this class. Would the rec hall let him change to a different one? "Will I need anything from my locker?"

"Just an apron to protect your clothes from the stain and varnish. Go ahead and fetch it, and I'll get you settled at a table."

The teacher for the class was actually a resident, a physicist from Seattle called Hector Morales. This surprised Reid and he said so. "I didn't know that residents taught."

Hector gave a harsh laugh. "Of course we do! It's something for us to do when we have free time and it helps our fellow inmates by giving them something new to learn and something new to do. If you have a hobby or a specific field you enjoy teaching, you can offer to teach a class. Helps keep you from going nutty due to boredom when you're not working on a project."

Spencer examined some sawdust on the table. "I don't understand about these projects. Is it the Director that assigns them? Once they're completed, what does he use them for? If we are assigned one, can we refuse if we don't want to do it?"

"The Director assigns you to a project that he thinks would be a good fit for you. Sometimes you can go months between projects, so that's why he has so many activities for us. He keeps us busy so we don't have time to plot a way to leave. We don't know what happens once the project is finished, and I don't think anyone has ever refused a project. At least, I've never heard of anyone refusing." Hector paused and looked Reid up and down. "You haven't been here long at all, have you?"

Reid shook his head. "I arrived yesterday, and today's my first full day. Being here...it's not been easy."

"It gets easier," Hector offered. "It's never easy, but it does get easier. Just focus on the present moment and you'll find things won't be so overwhelming."

Others were starting to arrive then, and Hector turned to greet them. There were four other students and they all took seats at the worktables. Hector explained what they were going to do, explained the techniques and materials they could use, and showed them some finished products. They had myriad pieces of wood in varying sizes to use, which had to be sanded and assembled in the design they chose. They then had to trace the design onto the assembled piece, stain the design, and then once the stain was dry, they would follow up with a sealer and varnish. After the varnish was dry, the completed piece would be ready. With the other students, Reid paged through the available designs and chose an outline map of the world for his piece. He spent the rest of the time sanding the scraps of wood he'd chosen and assembling the piece before tracing the design on the wood. He was using small boards of varying lengths to make a map with asymmetrical sides, but the image would be centered. If he used two shades of varnish he would have a piece with contrast that would match the color scheme in his room.

At the end of the class he bid Hector goodbye and put his project and apron away in his locker. There was a splash of varnish on the apron from somewhere, but Reid couldn't tell where it had come from. He left the arts center with his bag over his shoulder and biked toward the Green. He wanted to spend some time outdoors and do some reading and a little thinking. It would be dinner time soon, and he hadn't managed to work on an escape plan yet. He found that disturbing on quite a few levels. Escape should have been the thing he was thinking of the most, and here he was, almost the end of the first day and he hadn't even concocted an escape plan yet.

He'd just ported his bike when he heard someone behind him. He whipped around, ready to defend himself, and he froze when he saw an older man around the Director's age standing there.

"Didn't mean to startle you, youngster," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I was hoping to introduce myself and to see if you would be amenable to a game of chess."

Reid looked beyond the man and spotted Wallace, from WBKJ. "What's he doing here?"

The man glanced behind him. "Wallace? He follows me around like an arrant puppy whenever I'm out and about. I usually ignore him. Would his lurking bother you?"

Reid shrugged. "Not really. It's not like he can do anything to me now that I'm here." That wasn't strictly true and Reid knew it, but he wasn't going to think about it. Wallace would have no reason to do anything to Reid without the Director's say-so, and Reid intended to give him no chance for that.

The man gave Reid a warm smile and held out his hand. "Claudius."

Reid shook and felt his lips turn up into a smile. He didn't know why, but he liked this man. "Reid."

"Black or white, Reid?"

"Black."

Reid joined Claudius at his chess table and they spent a few minutes just making moves before Reid decided to ask the difficult questions. "I was curious…"

"About why Wallace follows me around?"

Reid looked up from the board. "Do you read minds?"

"No, I read expressions," Claudius said with a kind smile. "You're very good at hiding what you're thinking, but I've had plenty of practice at discerning what lies behind someone's eyes. Wallace follows me around whenever I'm out because I managed to escape once."

There it was. It was the word that had been percolating in Reid's head all day. Then his mind flashed back to what Sean and his friends had told him earlier. "You're that guy?"

Claudius grinned and moved a pawn. "I'm that guy."

Spencer leaned forward and pretended to study the board. "How did you manage it?" he asked, his voice as low as possible.

"It's impossible by sea unless your boat has an engine, and even then, it's iffy," Claudius told him, waving his hand back and forth. "You won't be able to steal the plane, but thinking about it now, stowing away is possible, if very risky. They only land at private airstrips, so you'd have quite a distance to travel once the plane landed and you managed to slip away without being seen by anyone. Your best chance is to steal a maintenance jeep and head inland. That's what I did. The jeeps are built to go over rougher terrain and you're able to move faster than you would on foot. I was able to make it to the nearest town, but they caught up to me before I could find the police."

Reid thought about this, hope surging in his chest. "Why did you go off-road? Wouldn't the road have been faster?"

"There was a road to this place from the town back when it was a resort, but since the road was on land belonging to the resort, the Director had it torn up. The asphalt was carted away and the roadbed planted over."

Reid moved his rook. "That's...a bit extreme."

"The Director is a man of extreme personality," Claudius said, moving his bishop. "He's determined to keep us all here in a self-contained bubble, and he's managed it very well."

"What I don't get is why," Reid confessed, moving a knight. "Why is it so important to him?"

Claudius leaned back in his chair and thought. "He feels the world is cruel to its most intelligent and sensitive people and he feels that it is his duty to protect them and nurture them. I don't know for certain, but I feel something happened to someone he cared about, someone like us, and he made a vow to himself to protect others like that person."

"It must have been a pretty traumatic event to give him that kind of motivation."

"I think so," Claudius agreed. "He and I met by chance years ago, and we struck up a friendship. During the short course of that friendship he shared with me that I reminded him of someone from his younger years, but he never explained further. Barely a year after meeting him, I went to bed one night in my apartment and I woke up here the next morning. At first, I still thought he was my friend and treated the whole thing like a joke, but over a few days it became clear to me that he had no intention of letting me go. I begged him and raged at him and finally pleaded with him, but he wouldn't listen; he'd just go on and on about how much better it was for me here. Over time I had to accept that he was no longer my friend but was now my jailer."

Reid suddenly felt cold in the bright sunshine. If this was how the Director treated someone he was friends with, then what treatment could other people expect? "And you tried to escape?"

"Certainly, and I managed it for a few short hours. Once they had me back here, the Director was furious with me. Other people had been punished for my isolating myself in my room, but I was the only one punished once I was brought back, thank goodness. The Director put me under a doctor's care for several months and when I was released, I was kept under guard, and I am still guarded. I am certain that the Director wishes to take no chances with my escaping a second time."

Reid couldn't imagine what this man's life had been like. "How long have you been here?"

Claudius gave a sad smile. "I try not to think about it, just as I try not to think about my friend. To me, he's the Director now, and I'm the man who's kept locked up, just in case. Whenever someone new comes in I make it a point to introduce myself and to give the newcomers a chance to ask advice, if they want it."

Reid thought quickly. "How do I not get noticed?"

Claudius's eyebrows went up and he blinked. "Well. That was unexpected. Most people ask how they get out of here."

Reid pursed his lips and sighed. "I can tell that it's going to take a while to get out of here, so while I'm here, I want to make sure that this...confinement...is as easy as possible for me."

"Your pragmatism does you credit, Dr. Reid," Claudius complimented. "You're right: It will be a long and patient game for you to get out of here, and I'm sure that if anyone were to manage it, it would be you, just on the basis of the question you just asked. The best advice I can offer for you is simple: accept being here and settle in."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt angry and more than a little betrayed. Out of vengeance, Reid captured Claudius's queen.

Claudius winced. "I may have deserved that. Still, I have reasons for that advice, if you'd care to hear them?"

"I'll listen, but you're not getting your queen back."

Claudius shrugged. "Ah, well. The vicissitudes of fate. The reason why I told you that is so that no eyes are on you. When you cause no trouble and make no one watch you, your chances of escape become higher. How do you think I slipped away?"

Reid thought about what he'd just been told. "I see. I apologize. I should have known you had good reasons."

"Apology accepted." Claudius moved a pawn and captured one of Reid's knights.

Reid examined the board. "Okay, I deserved that."

"Your move, Reid."

They kept going on their game until the bell rang for dinner. By that time they'd managed to capture most of each other's pieces.

"I'd enjoy finishing this game later," Claudius said as he shook Reid's hand over the board. "Would you be free the same time tomorrow?"

"Yes, and I'd enjoy that," Reid answered. "Are you going to dinner? We could go together."

"Most of my meals are served to me in my rooms, but thank you for thinking of me. I'll see you tomorrow."

Reid watched him go and wondered just what Claudius's life was like. Was he always by himself like this? What would he spend his time doing? More importantly, how would he keep himself from going crazy from being by himself all the time?

Reid headed to the dining hall and found Sean and the others. There was a lively debate about Queen Elizabeth I's spy network and Reid listened with half an ear while he brought up his menu and scrolled through the choices. All of it looked so good! Yankee pot roast with vegetables, quiche Lorraine with onion soup, grilled chicken Ceasar salad, mushroom ravioli, chicken divan, shepherd's pie...oh, decisions, decisions. He ended up selecting sesame teriyaki chicken with brown rice and vegetables, and for dessert, a slice of berry angel food cake. He joined the conversation then, and the talk kept going while they ate. They kept talking as they bussed their table and they agreed to revisit the topic in the morning.

Reid checked his watch and unlocked a bike, telling everyone to have a good night. It was almost time for his first baking class and he didn't want to be late. He biked to the arts center, found the home ec wing, and soon he was working with seven others to learn how to make irresistible chocolate chip cookies. He'd made them before by following the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip package, but the recipe they were learning had an extra step or two. They worked in groups of two and Reid's partner was a quiet girl called Mara. While they measured out ingredients and began creaming the butter and sugar together, Reid found himself cracking jokes to make her smile. She didn't look as if she did that enough.

Once the cookies were in the oven, Reid and Mara cleaned up their station and put their dishes and utensils in the dishwasher. "Do you like baking?" Reid asked as they sat down on the bar stools at their station.

Mara's entire face lit up, and she looked like a completely different person. "I like cooking! I want to learn everything I can about it!" She paused and laughed. "I'm probably the only resident that the staff has had to complain to the Director about. I'm always in and out of the kitchen begging the chefs to let me watch them work and let me help!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious. "Do they ever let you?"

"They have a few times, mostly when the Director insisted. The pastry chef's the nicest one; he lets me help him put together cakes and pies and other things."

"Sounds like you would already know quite a bit," Reid said thoughtfully. "Why are you taking a class like this?"

She grinned. "Practice!"

The delicious aroma of cookies filled the room and once the cookies were out of the oven and cool enough, everyone helped themselves to one before packing up the rest to take back to their cottages. Mara told him that it was an unspoken rule to share what you cooked with your housemates.

"Which cottage are you in?" Mara asked as they packed their cookies into boxes.

"Beech."

Her face lit up again. "So am I! How come I haven't seen you?"

"I've been keeping myself busy," Reid admitted. "I'm trying...I guess I'm trying to get used to being here."

Mara nodded and closed the boxes. "I know what you mean. I've been here four years and there are times when I just start doing a lot of stuff so I don't think too much. I mean, the Director's been really nice to me-he's done stuff for me that a father would do for his daughter-but I don't like the fact that he doesn't want me to go away to college or get a job off-campus. He says when I'm old enough he can set up a job on-campus for me."

"And college?" Reid prompted.

She gave him a wry look and raised an eyebrow. "I'm surrounded by professors, and I live on a campus with lots of amenities and a dorm-like situation. My whole life is college!"

Reid startled himself by laughing. This girl was fun. "How long have you been here?"

"Four years. I celebrated my eighteenth birthday six months ago, and the Director threw a party for me at his house and I got some awesome gifts!" She sighed blissfully and smiled. "If it weren't for the Director's totalitarian outlook, I'd say I'm truly spoiled!"

Reid's brain caught up to what she'd said. "He had you brought here when you were fourteen?" He couldn't believe it. What must her parents have gone through?

Her face turned serious. "It's good he did," she said, her tone sober. "You wouldn't believe the foster family that social services put me with after my parents died. The 'dad' was a real sleaze-bag and I can't believe that any woman was willing to marry the pig. If the Director hadn't ordered me brought in, I would have either run on my own or something would have happened. My bedroom didn't have a lock."

He was glad he hadn't said what he'd been thinking. "Thank goodness."

She tugged the end of her braid over her shoulder and toyed with the end. "Yep. The Director told me later that the guy went to jail, so that's good. He can't bother anyone else."

The class ended and Reid biked back to Beech with Mara. While they rode they chatted about what they liked to read and Mara almost massacred a bush with her bike when Reid told her about his degrees. "Really? Mathematics? Could you teach me some? I've already worked with a few other people, but we've covered everything they know!"

Reid found himself smiling as they reached the bike shelter and ported their bikes. "Sure we can! We just need a place to meet."

Mara jumped at him and hugged him hard, squealing with delight. "The library has study and conference rooms! Oh, I can't wait!"

They made plans to meet the day after next and they headed inside, leaving their cookies in the kitchenette for their housemates. Reid bid Mara good night and headed to his room, suddenly tired. When had he last been so...well, busy? College, probably. Grad school, certainly. He got to his room and prepared for bed, his mind buzzing with everything he'd seen, done, and heard that day. He'd had fun, yes, and he'd learned quite a bit, but he knew that sometimes his smile had been too hard, his voice just too loud, and his movements too frantic. He was still scared to death that he'd been kidnapped and brought to this place. As he fell asleep, he thought about his team and just how they've been since he disappeared.

Author's Note: WHY HAS NO ONE SENT HELP?!