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“Errol, you said there was a problem?”
“Not exactly a problem, per se.” He raises his hands in a glorified shrug. “We just need to…reconsider our options.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well,” Errol says, “I know we’ve been talking about using Galen to figure out how to turn all the shit in his head off, but there’s an issue with that.”
“You said you just needed time to figure it out.” Cross leans forward on the table. “Are you saying now that it can’t be done?”
“Oh, it can be done,” Errol says.
“Out with it, Errol” Merle says.
“I don’t want to be changed,” I say, and all heads turn toward me. “I want to stay the way I am.”
Riley places her hand over mine on the table. Donald Cross narrows his eyes and glares at both of us. I can see the vein in his temple throbbing.
“We’ve already determined that’s our best course of action,” Cross says. “How are we supposed to figure out how to turn off the rest of them if you refuse to assist?”
“Galen’s discussed his concerns with me,” Riley says. “He wants to remain the way he is. We’re not going to try to inactivate the implants.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Merle asks.
“I think it’s what he wants,” Riley replies.
“What he wants or what you want, Dr. Grace?”
“It’s what I want.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I had to talk Riley into it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Anna says. “We’re already talking about how to get the drugs he needs. How are we supposed to accomplish that long term?”
“What drug is this?” Merle asks, and Anna explains it to him.
Donald Cross is visibly disturbed by the news that I could go ballistic on the lot of them, but Merle just nods slowly as he stares at the table in front of him, contemplating.
“How much do you have?” Merle asks. “How long can you keep him going?”
“I have nineteen days’ worth of all his medications,” Riley says. “I can stretch that to three, maybe four weeks. It should remain at a high enough level in his system for four or five days after the last injection. After that, his aggression levels will increase significantly.”
“Will I be able to control it?” I ask.
“For a while, maybe.” Riley looks at me, concern filling her eyes. “Eventually, the rage will be too much. You’ll start seeing everyone as an enemy.”
“Even you?”
“After a while, yes, very possibly. I should be able to maintain some level of control over you, but not forever.”
“How did you all think this was a good idea?” Cross levels a hard look at Spat and Anna and then glares at Riley.
“They are supposed to be aggressive!” Riley balls her hands into fists and presses them hard against her thighs under the table. “If they aren’t getting their treatments, the assumption is capture. Maximum rage and aggression are only beneficial in those circumstances. You know that’s what he’s designed to be, so stop looking at me like I did this just to inconvenience you! It’s Galen’s life we’re talking about here!”
Riley’s agitation flows through me, and my brain signals me to react. I stand, my hands also clenched into fists, ready to leap over the table and strangle Cross just as Riley grabs my wrist.
“Relax, everyone.” Merle holds his hands up, palms down, signaling me to sit.
I glance at Riley, and she pulls at my hand. I return to my seat slowly, eyes on Cross the whole time.
“And you’re saying he’s just going to get more aggressive?” Cross mutters. “He’s already a danger.”
