There's something wrong with Phoebe

16 - Jack

“Go have fun,” I said to Milly, the new girl, as she pulled back on her suit. She smiled timidly, blushing as I continued to stare at her. She’d adapted well. I should have gotten her earlier. She would have been useful, but now she’d just be a backup. My Phoebe was out there now, and she would not fail me. I’d just sent out two more of my best, and after Danielle’s hard work, it looked as if my dreams were finally becoming a reality.

Adults always underestimated kids. They are capable of a lot more than they think. They put them all in the same education system, and dress them in the same uniforms. They learn about past Kings, and how to locate their country on a map, and how to spell their name. Every kid is brought up the same way, but each one has something special to give. This is squashed down, and when they get to eighteen and can finally pursue that unique talent they have, they probably don’t even want to do anything to do with it, or are unaware that they have a skill unknown to them at present because they have been made to choose a different path.

“Bye,” Milly said, before ducking through the door. That jolted me into thinking about Milly as she made herself known to me again. Milly seemed like the type that would be good with plans. Not much courage in her, but that could be helped. She seemed shy now but I’d get a feisty streak out of her.

Sure, all my kids did the same things every day to begin with, but then they branched out once I found their skill. And unlike some of the teachers at normal education schools, I knew the name of each kid, how old they were, their favourite subject out of my curriculum, what they were best at and their group of friends. I made them wear the same uniform because it improved their work and they liked them. I developed them myself. They’re supple, like my kids.

They do an hour of stretching in the mornings after their breakfast, and, apart from the youngest and newest kids, this is done in silence and on their own. I trust that they won’t mess around, as they know that I can come in to check on them, and when I take their other classes, I know if they haven’t been working. Then, we have the defence class for an hour and a half and then they have their programming classes.

Of course, everything is done on small scale. Occasionally, I may take a few upward with me and outside into the garden for slightly bigger trials, but that’s a risky procedure. I have a feeling the police are watching me already. They’re on to me with the drug selling. That’s why I had to warn all my clients, including Phoebe’s Dad, about a few changes I was making, and make up some excuses. I had to keep it down low for now. I didn’t know how I’d pay for all the food I needed for the kids though. There were twenty four of them now that I’d started letting some go. I was wary to bring Milly in, as I’d had my perfect thirty for so long now – it must have been eight months with this group all together after building them up for ten years. That had been the ideal. Ten years with thirty kids, and then I’d get it all. But Milly had been special.

I’d seen her on the beach alone. I went up to her and asked if she was OK. She’d cried and said that her parents had just split up and she’d ran here. It was perfect. They’d believe she’d ran away from home. I told her to come for a drink with me. I said there was a nice place I knew around the corner. She was reluctant to get in the car, but she did.

She was only eleven so not too smart. We drove to my place – my place before all of this had happened – and I sat her down and told her that she wasn’t going home. She’d screamed and I’d had to put her in the basement for a short while. The screaming stopped only an hour later, and the crying too. I told her everything would be OK. She went to sleep on my sofa and I gave her the injection. It was easy. I knew I’d chosen well. And she responded brilliantly. That’s the only thing I keep from my kids – the injection they all received. There’s a reason they’re brilliant.

When she woke up, she was eager to do everything with me that I wanted her to. The best kid I’d ever had. So I brought her here immediately and she settled in. It’s been five weeks now.

I got dressed and went out to the food hall. My eldest four girls, Selina, Cheryl, Katy and Ashley, were serving up the chips and chicken and carrots. Every girl stood away from the table as I came up, and Selina served me a large serving, smiling as she did so. I took it and sat by three scared looking six year olds – Abby, Taylor and Vanessa.

“Hey girls,” I said.

“Hi,” Abby said, smiling but still looking scared. Her shoulders were all tight.

“It’s OK. You haven’t done anything wrong,” I said, and all three relaxed and tucked into their food. “So how are you all?”

“Good!” piped up Taylor.

“I’m glad,” I replied. “Do you want to visit me later, Taylor?”

“Me?” she said, eyes widening.

“Yes,” I said, laughing. “Just a quick game.”

“Sure!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. I finished my meal and went back to my room, smiling. I’d always liked Taylor. She had ben Phoebe’s offering, and was smart and witty like Phoebe. She had the drug in her blood from when I’d given it to Phoebe, but I gave Taylor it anyway, which meant she was one of my best kids. The drug had worked spectacularly. And all those years ago, my parents shut me up about taking the drug further with two million pounds. That had lasted me well anyway.

I could pursue my dreams with that amount. I could feed the kids and set up a home for them all under the orphanage I run above ground. That was the perfect part of it. I looked like a lovely man, taking care of kids. There were about one hundred and twenty of them in the orphanage, give or take a few. Nobody had noticed if I slipped one below ground when they showed promise. Police didn’t suspect anything was going on – only the drugs, though they had no proof. Then, occasionally, I had to take a few from the streets.

Normally, I watched those kids for a while, to check them out. Phoebe was one of the five from the streets. They were harder when they came from the streets, as they had homes to go to, and people looking for them, but often my street kids turned out to be the best. Except for Tracey. She’d been a disappointment. I knew I let her go too early. She was clever too, and had been nine when I took her. She hadn’t dared to tell anybody about my system though. She knew the consequences of telling people from the outside world. I’d find her.

I fitted all the kids with devices I’d developed myself. It meant I could hear them and know where they were at all times. They were under the skin of their left bottom cheek. They knew what it was, and that meant that they knew to behave well at all times.

I turned the television off and the news was on. I saw then an image of some area of London, ruined. I didn’t know where it was. But I knew who it was. “Lily,” I said, grinning. I’d only let her go last week. She’d done me proud.

There was a knock at my door and I saw Lily slip inside, face hot and sweaty and her hair all messed up, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. “It’s done!” she said.

“I just saw,” I replied, smiling. “You deserve a treat, Lily. That’s three down, and three to go. Half way to our goal.”

“Are you proud of me, Jack?” she said, beaming.

“Very proud.”