Under the Moonshine

Sixteen | Behind the Mask

Emily hurried to the front door when the doorbell rang; leaving the hundreds of codes she was currently working on. Max followed her steps and barked, his bare teeth exposed to intimidate the visitor.

"Good morning, Emily," Wilson greeted, face serious.

Surprised, she forced a smile. "Hey, it's nice to see you."

"Can I come in?"

She tapped her fingers on the door, debating to herself. "Yeah, sure."

Max stopped barking the moment he saw the man, his tail waggled in greeting.

Wilson noticed the laptop and he smiled looking at the program his goddaughter was trying to make. "What language is that?"

"Oh," she pointed at the microcontroller lying behind the laptop. "That's C. For my design project in school."

"What are you trying to make?"

Emily shrugged her shoulder, reading where the conversation would lead them. "Just some stuff. I haven't figured it out yet."

Wilson nodded his head. Both of them seated while Max went up the stairs, barking as he go.

"What do you know about your father's job, Emily?" he asked, tone dead serious.

She hadn't expected the shift of topic would be that fast. "He is the president. He made the decisions and plan for the company."

"Anything else?"

"That's all I know."

The man stared at her for a brief moment, as if reading her thoughts. She had to look away. Emily suddenly realized that her godfather's visit wasn't just to check on her. He had a purpose. He wanted to know something.

"I went to your school yesterday," he started. "I was invited to give a speech for the students and they gave me a tour to their new Research facility. I talked about nano technology, how it affects the human body and the things it could do. It is an amazing technology only if done right."

She let out a deep sigh. "I don't know where this conversation is going."

"Of course you do," Wilson answered. "Where is it?"

It? Her brows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

He smiled softly and relaxed his shoulder. "Your father's experiment. It's here, I know."

Panic ran through her system and she shivered at the idea of Taren being in danger.

"What are you planning to do to him?" she asked.

"You are not safe with it."

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth, a bit overwhelmed at what was happening. "It? He's not an it, Wil."

"You don't understand, but we have to get rid of it."

"You don't know what you're saying!" she yelled, eyes wide.

"That is a machine, Emily!" he whispered in desperation. "He lost his capability being a human when your father took control."

"You just want to use him against my father," she bit back the bitter tone lurking behind her mouth.

"We are talking about an experiment. A hybrid. It is dangerous to keep- "

"His name's Taren," she insisted. "He's not an it."

Wilson looked at her, seeing her pained reaction. She was too young to experience things that were as complex as that one. She shared a specific trait with her mother, though. Stubborn.

"My dad made him to protect. Not to destroy."

He smiled at that, trying to find the humor somewhere. "And who told you that, sweetie?"

"Taren."

"Of course," he nodded. "And did Taren tell you there's a microchip inside him? That some part of him was already programmed, making him behave the way he needed to behave? Did he tell you why he can't remember anything? Why he's behaving like a dog or something? Did he tell you that any moment his body could change forms because of the mix genomes and experimentation your father did to him?"

Her throats gone dry, words lost on her. Emily just couldn't fathom every word Wilson had said. She felt small, betrayal and lies started to gnawed inside her head, making her dizzy.

"Did he tell you his master designed him to be a killer? A soldier ready to obey the orders, good or bad, no matter what it takes? That he is the first person who successfully lived through that kind of experimentation? Or did your father ever tell you he made a deal with someone to mass produce hybrids such as what you call Taren, to be a private army of a certain country?"

She shook her head slowly, digesting everything he had thrown at her. "That's not on his data sheet."

Wilson's eyes seemed to brighten. "Which data sheet are you talking about? The fake one?"

She didn't respond. Nothing made much sense, just for her opinion.

"There are different sides of every story, Emily," he said, brushing his gray hair with his hand. "I have always been on your side since the beginning. I am not asking for your trust. Just let me gain it."

Tears rapidly pooled her eyes, her chest heaved as she tried to keep her composure. She felt like she was battling the war left by her dad alone, no one to back her up, and the enemy was attacking in full height.

She felt helpless.

"I want to help you," he said, tone sincere.

"My dad didn't just die because of heart attack," Emily replied. "He'd been murdered."

"He underwent an autopsy. The report says it's heart attack. As much as I want to believe he'd been killed, the result can't lie."

She blinked, tears rolled down her cheeks, but she kept her expression blank. "But the people behind the report can lie. And the result can be bought and manipulated."

Wilson nodded, as if realizing the possibilities of her ideas.

Emily wiped away her tears and took a deep breath.

"Go to my office tomorrow," he said as he stood, ready to leave. "Bring him along, if you want to. Let's settle this situation before it gets out of control."

"What are you going to do to him?"

"I'll just explain him to you." He headed to the door, head on a bow. "You know, we all wear an invisible mask. Just as we all hid a secret.