Catabolism - Part Two: Diplopia

Chapter Eleven

The room, the lab, the equipment, hell, even the chair was unfamiliar. But the data was not. Rebecca knew the ones and zeroes better than she knew most people. Sometimes, she thought, even better than she knew herself.

She enjoyed a good puzzle, a challenge that made her stop and think. But the problem was that science was simple, straightforward. There was almost always an answer, she just had to look a little deeper. People, however, were a nightmare to try and figure out. She could try the same thing over and over and always get different results. There were no rules, no controls or constants. A person who seemed trustworthy could end up trying to kill you, another who, by all accounts, should have been untrustworthy, but ended up saving your life.

Rebecca groaned, blinking away from the screen, one mystery left unsolved for another day. That line was replaying in her head, how intent did not guarantee execution. She knew that all too well.

Muffled voices sounded in the hallway, low, rushed. A moment later, she heard the beeping of the keycard reader. Rebecca both was and was not surprised when the door to her temporary lab zipped open and Taliah waltzed in.

"Bad news," she sighed, eyes sliding across the walls. She moved and spoke so casually, as if this was nothing abnormal. "Looks like you're on babysitting duty while Chris rounds up the files." There was a pause, followed by, "And no, I will not call him Captain."

The juxtaposition was odd, one moment being trapped beneath her vice-like gaze, and another her eyes never landed. People were chaos to understand.

"That, and he might have gently suggested that I owe you an apology."

Rebecca stayed seated, watching Taliah inspect her new surroundings. She could not tell if the girl understood what she was looking at or not, her face placid but eyes alert and darting. Leon had said she was smart, and now Rebecca believed it; not just from what she had seen, but now from what she knew. But she was also clever.

Rebecca shook her head, though her audience was not looking in the same direction. "I'm not looking for an apology," she admitted, and it was the truth. Her indignation had cooled, she had plenty of time to reevaluate, to realize her mistake. To make adjustments.

Taliah's head tilted sideways as she read the labels on test tubes in the cold storage, keeping her distance. "Good, since I had absolutely no intention of apologizing."

Somehow, Rebecca was not surprised. Instead, she sighed, removing her glasses and placing them beside the keyboard. She pushed out of her unfamiliar chair as she spoke, "Actually, I wanted to apologize."

That got Taliah's attention, and the girl paused, her focus sliding over.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm sorry," she started strong, but her eyes slipped toward the floor. "You're right. I was so focused on the science that I did forget that you are a human being with feelings." The guilt sat heavy in her stomach. "I know you must have suffered. And not anywhere near to the same degree, but I do know a bit of how you feel, what you must have been through. And I'm sorry."

Despite the hesitation she felt, Rebecca chanced a glance up, telling herself she probably deserved what was coming. But Taliah was staring at her in a new way, with brows slightly furrowed and the corners of her lips turned down. She looked like how Rebecca sometimes looked trying to decipher a new formula, catching her reflection in the computer screen.

And then Taliah's head turned back to the shelves, expression smoothing as her focus drifted away. Rebecca was unsure of how to feel about the shift, until she said, "How long have you been with the BSAA?"

That brought a wisp of a smile to Rebecca's lips. She gave a half shrug, more to herself than anything. "I'm not, technically." How long was she going to keep telling herself that? "Just temporarily assisting."