Chapter 4
The staterooms for "the 73," as the accompanying technician called them, were on D-level. Khan was quiet and contemplative as he followed the technician and Mara through the winding halls and onto the elevator.
He did not look curiously at the elevator as Mara expected. Instead, he seemed to be intimately familiar with its workings, and was merely spying flaws and strengths in the structure.
He was a remarkable specimen. He was not curious about anything—he was already familiar with the machinations and extreme sciences being performed at Rowen. He understood them, and marveled at their execution. Even the way he carried himself was unlike someone who had never before set foot to floor. He was slow and graceful, but palpably dangerous. Like a prowling wildcat.
The staterooms for The 73 were wildly different than those aboveground. Where there was ornate decoration and wide windows in Mara's room, Khan's was simple and functional. It was small—probably 12'x12'. The bed was large enough, but as small as possible to maximize space. It was metal, protruding from the wall like a limb. There was a closet set into the wall, with sparse selections inside. A single desk sat opposite the bed, with what looked like schematics and blank pages set atop.
Khan was a thinker. He would need to occupy himself.
Upon entering, Khan was the first to step forward. He looked around, unimpressed and yet unwavering. He held the coat around him without dedication—as if he knew that social construction was the only thing prohibiting his nudity.
Mara looked at the technician, Lucy had been her name, with questioning. Lucy smiled meekly, obviously unsure of how to treat Khan. He was the first of his kind. No one knew how to act.
Disregarding her timidity, Lucy stepped forward, pulling a few things from the closet, shying away from Khan as he looked at her. She set the clothes on the bed, then backed away, grinning weakly at him as he scrutinized her every move. His eyes narrowed at the smile, and he tilted his head like a puppy.
Lucy approached Mara, pulling her aside as Khan turned away, taking the clothes and analyzing them.
"He was taught many things," Lucy said in a low whisper. Mara cleared her throat and turned away as Khan dropped the coat and dressed in the clothes provided.
"But the extent is unclear. Here,"
Lucy held out her hand, and Mara looked down to see a small gun.
"But I thought…" Mara began to argue as the gun was shoved in her hand.
"I know what Pierce said. But he could crush you with his thumb and pinky finger. You just… need to be prepared. It won't kill him. Not unless you shoot him in the head, and even then…"
Lucy's words trailed off, and Mara thought she could sense a regret at the creation Lucy had aided.
"Just… hide it from him," Lucy said. "I'll be right outside."
Mara nodded, more questions piling up than she had answers to. She slid the gun down the back of her belt, pulling her suit coat over it to hide it. She turned back to Khan as Lucy exited, and found him sitting statue-like on the bed. The clothes given to him were all black, and hugged his perfect form. His spine was perfectly straight, and his hands lay quietly on his thighs. And he was staring at her like an owl admires the night.
Mara cleared her throat in an effort to create confidence, and pulled her bag from her shoulder. She went about silently pulling various items that she would need, keeping her eyes averted.
"Do I frighten you?" he asked suddenly, and she looked up at him. He was still as the night, his eyes boring into hers.
"I… no. You don't scare me," she said, straightening.
"A lie," he said, inclining his head slightly. "Dilated pupils. The aligning of the spine, lifting of the eyes—a tell. Why do I scare you?"
Her breath left her at the immensity of his skill and intelligence. "I… I've never met anyone like you," she replied, closing her bag but staying where she was, kneeling in front of him.
"I believe it is safe to assume no one has," he said with a calm breath. "Why, then, is your first reaction fear? I've given you no reason. Is it natural for humans?"
She got the feeling that he wasn't curious. That he didn't know these things. Instead, she felt that he did know, and was simply exploiting it. That scared her.
"You did. Give me a reason," she said with a pause, gaining confidence. She stood, taking her medical supplies with her and setting them on the desk.
"You hurt those lab technicians. Threw them around like ragdolls," she said, taking her syringe.
"I was outnumbered and surrounded. I'm given to understand that my reaction, like your fear, was perfectly natural."
Mara couldn't help that her jaw fell open. It made perfect sense, and he knew it. Mara thought she saw the corner of his lips form a momentary grin.
"May I have your arm, please," she said, changing the subject. She knelt in front of him, holding out a hand. He overturned his wrist, placing it gently in her hand. His skin was warm, like any human being, and smooth.
She took a deep breath, sinking the syringe into the median cubital vein. Khan did not react at all—merely continued to stare down at her.
"Do you…" she began, pulling what she needed into the syringe, and removing it. "Do you understand who you are?" she asked, placing the cap on the syringe.
"I assume by this, you mean 'what'? Do I understand what I am?"
She didn't respond, just stared back at him. He blinked, turning his eyes from hers. It was a small move, but it told her a great deal.
"Yes," he said, pulling his arm back. "I understand."
His tone was questionable. Mara was unsure if he was simply making the statement, or if there was something beneath—anger, sadness.
"Watch my finger," she said, slowly waving it in front of him and shining a scope in his eyes to watch for dilation.
He did as he was asked, but there was something animalistic in his features. Like a dog trained to do tricks, waiting for a chance to strike.
"Are you… angry?" she asked, putting her scope down and taking out her sphygmometer, and leaning up to wrap the cuff around his bicep. He watched her slowly before answering.
"My regard of my condition is no different than yours. Are you angry?" he asked. This time he did smile.
Mara was stopped in her tracks as both the charm and danger in his smile struck her like a kick in the gut.
She returned the smile, cautiously. "No," she said, pumping the dial and watching for the reading.
His blood pressure was remarkably human—the same as any athletic male. She shook off the exasperation, removing the cuff and grabbing her stethoscope. She draped it over her neck, and repositioned on the floor in front of him.
She reached for his arm again, and this time he didn't wait to be asked. He placed his wrist in her hand once more, but she swore his fingers grazed her skin, just over her radial artery. Was he playing her?
She held his wrist tightly between two fingers, counting the beats. He stared dangerously at her the entire time, and for part of the time, she held his gaze.
His pulse, like his blood pressure, was identical to that of any athletic man.
"May I?" she asked, pointing to the bottom of his shirt.
He said nothing, but the corners of his mouth turned to a smirk.
Mara took another deep breath, lifting his shirt and placing the stethoscope over his heart. Kneeling where she was, she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. And it was so unnerving that she lost count and had to begin anew.
"Do I impress you?" he asked as she withdrew the stethoscope and wrote her results on a notepad.
"Yes," she replied simply. "You are remarkable."
The statement did not flatter or phase him. On the contrary, it seemed to be a fact he was aware of.
"Then… may I ask you something?" he said, his tone changing. It lowered to an almost sensual whisper.
"Of course," she said, reaching slowly for his neck and examining his thyroid. For the first time, he seemed uncomfortable as her fingers reached his throat. He actually leaned away, taking in a small, sharp breath. For a moment, Mara wondered what in his enhanced knowledge had taught him to be wary of a hand on his throat. It was an instinctual reaction, yes. But not one Mara ever saw in any patients other than soldiers.
He waited for her hand to descend before continuing. He leaned in slowly to her, his face inches from hers. Something told her not to pull away from him.
"If I impress you," he began simply. "And if you feel that I am 'remarkable',"
His hand snapped around her throat, and he dragged her to her feet as he violently stood. She yelped as he shoved her back easily, slamming her against the closet door. His free hand reached around her, and she felt his grasp on her lower back.
He yanked the gun into view, practically pressing it against her face.
"Then why did you bring this?" he hissed.
Before she could answer, the door was open, and Lucy stood with the other technician, Brianne, both holding weapons of their own.
"I had no intention of using it," Mara whimpered against Khan's grip.
"Then why bring it? Is this not the purpose of a weapon? To attack?" he growled, now pointing the nose against her cheek.
"Khan!" Lucy warned from the door.
"Yes. It is," Mara said with conviction, pushing against Khan's grip. It wouldn't do any good, but she knew he would notice that she was at least fighting back. "It is the purpose of a weapon to attack others. But my thought process on the matter was that I would need it to defend against you—a weapon in and of yourself. So, am I not justified? Facing one weapon with another?"
Lucy, Brianne, and even Khan seemed taken aback by the answer. Khan, in particular, straightened, releasing her.
"You are," he said simply, looking down at the gun. Within half a second, he emptied the cartridge and dissembled the gun into three harmless pieces. He held them out to her, and turned his back as she took them.
He returned to his bed, sitting contentedly. He closed his eyes, taking long, calm breaths.
The adrenaline caused Mara's hands to shake, but she felt accomplished. Like she had proven something to him.
Another thought struck her, however, as Lucy and Brianne turned from the room and Mara packed her medical bag.
Had that been his entire point? To test her? What kind of knowledge had they given him, exactly?