Detecting Falsehood

33

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"Well," I start nervously, my hands fidgeting in my lap, "the story starts with my parents. They were newlyweds, maybe about twenty five years or so ago. They wanted to start a family. And my mother saw an advert in the newspaper, a small one, which simply stated that there was another family in need. They needed volunteers for a trial. They wouldn't say what for. But that family was desperate."

I lower my gaze when Jungkook's jaw tenses slightly. I know he's going to start noticing the parallels between my story and his own at some point. He's not a complete idiot. But I don't know when. I don't know how much he was ever told about the trials his father ordered.

"They wanted to play around with genetics," I continue hesitantly, and he jolts at that, eyebrows furrowing as he begins to think of how this could possibly link to himself. Maybe his father did tell him about these. I don't know. I have no way of understanding what's happening in his mind. "So every child my parents had would have something interesting  changed in their genetics, to test how different genes affected certain traits."

"And they were willing to take part?" he asks quietly, the cogs of his brain almost visibly turning. I nod, shifting uncomfortably and avoiding his searching gaze.
"They agreed that it would be worth it. As long as the children weren't hurt, that's what mattered. They could still be a family. That was something they demanded. And the testers agreed to their terms. They were desperate for volunteers."

"My sister, Kim Taewa, she was the first out of the three of their children born in that facility. My parents visited once a week, the moment my mother got pregnant. Once she was born - well, that was basically when things started going wrong. They were told to live in the facility, so that the scientists could monitor her development and see if everything worked out the way they wanted."

Jungkook bites his lower lip, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head at himself, trying to deny what his common  sense is trying to tell him. "Did things work?" he asks, his voice soft and barely audible, and I nod reluctantly.
"They played around with her genes so that she could glow," I explain apprehensively, "my brother Taeseok can photosynthesise. Not very well, he still needs to eat and he doesn't go very green. But he can survive for over a month without eating and only lose about a kilo of weight. It's pretty cool, I guess."

Jungkook shifts slightly, causing me to glance back up at him. The troubled expression on his face hurts my heart a little, because I know that he's figuring it all out. And how can he trust someone who unknowingly killed his mother? How does that work? I'm not stupid. I know that there's a lot of unspoken, unacknowledged tension between us. Simply because of what we've been through.

I doubt it'll ever change, and this is just going to make it worse.

"I was also genetically engineered," I say carefully, biting my lip and mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to say. I've never before had to tell anyone this, ever. I still can't believe that I'm actually going to say it. It doesn't feel real. None of this has. Ever since we escaped, I've been certain that I've been drugged into believing I'm free.

"I was turned into a human lie detector," I explain simply. "I can just tell when someone is lying or telling the truth, whether they know it themselves or not. It's difficult sometimes, because I know that I have to lie myself to keep my family safe, and every time I lie I feel a little bit sick. But I can't do anything else."

Jungkook nods, still deep in thought. I know I don't have long before he figures it all out completely. "There's a danger to this whole thing because of something very simple. The lab technicians decided that they were going to kill my siblings and I when we turned sixteen, so that we could not escape into the outside world."

I scowl, despite the fact that I can't do anything to stop what's already happened and so my anger is pointless, as his eyes widen in shock. "Taewa must have been about seven at the time, and she overheard them talking about it. She was in the wrong section, because she liked to wander, it was her hobby, and they referred to us like we were lab rats. We're people, not pieces of flesh."

He nods slightly in agreement at that. "I understand the sentiment there. You're a human being, not a lump of cells," he comments simply, and I nod, agreeing with him instantly.
"Precisely! And they just refused to think about that. So when she came back to us, crying, we had to do something to stop them."

He nods again, shuffling forward to listen closer to the story, his head tilted. "What happened? What did you do?"

"I was only five, but I was the one who had to confront them. Call them liars, demand that they let us go. And they couldn't claim my skills were fake, not after they'd scientifically proven time and time again that they were legitimate. And so we trapped them into telling us the truth. They were going to kill us, and there was nothing we could do about it."

"But how-"
"Secret microphones that they'd given us," I say simply, shrugging. "In the heat of the moment, they didn't realise we had them. And then it was simply a matter of calling the police, bringing them into the laboratory, and getting those people arrested. But all of their research was burned by the authorities, to protect our identities and prevent anyone from finding out what had happened, for our own safety."

"What about the people who wanted the survey to happen?" he asks quietly, and my heart drops as I think about it. Suddenly, everything makes sense in my head.
"I don't want you to freak out on me," I murmur, as quietly as I can, "so don't get annoyed. I had no control over anything. It wasn't up to me what happened to those records, what those technicians were doing. I just wanted to live. And I wanted the rest of my family to live as well."

"I won't freak out on you, I promise, just tell me what happened. How you figured things out. Anything you know. Because I think there may be a connection here to something related to me, something I think you might be aware of."

I nod slowly, almost ashamed of myself. "I never met the people who wanted the trial to take place. I never knew what it was for, just that it was urgent and that everything was very dramatic and desperate for someone. And I think it might have been your family, that we were supposed to have been helping to figure things out, for your mother's condition. But nobody ever passed the results on. They wanted to keep getting paid."

"My father was so desperate for them that he would've waited forever," Jungkook muses, nodding to himself. "He wouldn't have considered, back then, that the trials weren't happening legally, and wouldn't have cared. He's a gang leader. Why would he care?"

"And he would trust in them to follow the rules of a trial, the unspoken ones," I continue nervously. "So, maybe it is my fault all along, maybe I was the one who truly killed both your mother and brother and ruined your life. I don't know, but I can tell you that I never meant to hurt anyone. I just didn't want to die. That's all, I swear."

Jungkook nods again, placing a hand on mine, out of nowhere, the action causing us both to jolt in surprise. "I know, Tae. I know. I don't blame you for any of it. Those scientists. They are the ones who ruined things for both of us. Seriously, I'm almost glad I know the link between us and them and whatever else now. My whole life is beginning to make a little more sense now."

I smile slightly, relieved that he doesn't hate me for it. Normally, when the truth is revealed, I've had to watch as people recoil away from the ones they care about, whether it's family or friends, over something small. This is so much bigger, so much more meaningful and life changing for both of us. And yet he doesn't seem to care.

It's fascinating, that attitude, but then I suppose he still partially blames himself for his own past. We've opened up to each other now, told each other our darkest secrets, and he's more than aware of that. Anyone else wouldn't believe him, would call him a liar. But I haven't. And sometimes it's nice to be trusted again after years of hiding behind a mask that's falling apart.

We've all got demons, somewhere, somehow. Sure, his are a little darker than some others, but does that make him less of a person? I honestly don't think so. He hasn't become someone he doesn't want to be. He hasn't turned into his twin, who sounds like an extremely manipulative person.

So I think he's alright. I truly believe that he's a good person.

No matter what our friends say tomorrow when they see me again for the first time in literally months.