The Orphan Factory (The Orphan Trilogy, #2) (28 page)

Curiosity got the better of Nine. After downing his dose of White Gold, he turned to his friend and resident joker, Ten, in an adjoining bed. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Doctor Andrews, the new guy,” Ten said. “He’s a real bundle of joy, as you can see.”

“Where’s Doctor Pedemont?”

“He went missing while you were away and was never found.”

Nine was shocked. As the doctor and nurse left the sleeping quarters and the lights were turned off, Nine lay back in the dark wondering if there was anything sinister about Doctor Pedemont’s disappearance. Nothing would surprise him: he knew life was cheap within Omega circles.

#

In the exclusive Chicago suburb of Oak Park, Kentbridge lay next to his wife in the bedroom of their home. The special agent rolled on to his side and studied Rachel. She was fast asleep, but for some reason he had insomnia.

That didn’t add up as he’d been working eighty to one hundred hour weeks of late and sleep had been at a premium. Focusing on finding and capturing Nine, not to mention carrying out Naylor’s frequent and demanding orders, had pushed him to the limit.

Thinking of Naylor made Kentbridge realize why he couldn’t get to sleep. It was the last thing the agency director had said to him: he’d ordered him to discipline the boy severely, physically and mentally.

I don’t think so, Andrew
.

Kentbridge had something else in mind. Something he predicted would be far more effective.

Satisfied he knew the right way to reprogram Nine, Kentbridge finally fell asleep.

51

Nine and Kentbridge sat together on the west bank of the Little Calumet River, its waters sparkling in the morning sun. The special agent pointed to a giant Asian carp that swam by. Downstream, fishermen cast their lines beneath a bridge, seemingly oblivious to the pedestrians, cyclists and cars that traveled to and fro above them.

Temperatures were noticeably warmer and the recent blizzard that had paralyzed Chicago was now just a memory. Spring had definitely arrived.

Two days had elapsed since Kentbridge had brought Nine back to the Pedemont Orphanage. The orphan was still waiting for his punishment. He expected to be tortured, put into solitary confinement or given demeaning tasks at the very least, but so far everything had been the same as before he’d escaped. The same except for one thing.

The previous day, Doctor Pedemont’s replacement, Doctor Andrews, had performed an operation on each of the orphans, replacing the microchip embedded in the forearm of each with a more advanced microchip. Nine guessed the procedure had been prompted by his escape, though no-one said anything. Tests had shown the signal from the replacement tracking device could not be blocked by White Gold or by any other substance or technology.

The operation had been straightforward, leaving only a small scar which would eventually fade. Nine’s forearm was still a little tender, but the stitches he’d received were doing their job. The orphan noticed an even bigger carp swimming upstream.

“That’s another carp they missed,” Kentbridge said, referring to the luckless fishermen downstream.

Nine didn’t respond. He’d been a closed book since his return and was in no mood for small talk.

As Kentbridge surreptitiously studied Nine’s profile, Naylor’s words were still ringing in his ears.
Punish the boy
to within an inch of his life
, the Omega director had ordered. Although Kentbridge was under pressure to do just that, he remained convinced he knew better than Naylor on this particular issue.

The special agent reached into his pocket and pulled out a color photograph, which he handed to the orphan. Nine could tell by its faded color it was old. It was a portrait photo of a dark-haired, green-eyed woman. Nine instinctively knew the woman was his mother, and not just because she was wearing the same ruby necklace Kentbridge had given him a few months earlier and which he now wore around his neck. 

“Sebastian,” Kentbridge whispered.

After a moment, Nine tore his eyes away from the woman in the photograph and looked into his mentor’s eyes.

“Sebastian,” Kentbridge repeated, a little louder this time. “That’s your real name. Your mother named you that when you were born.”

Nine suspected Kentbridge was playing mind games with him. He’d expected that as he was aware Omega’s strategy for dealing with any form of internal dissension was to either terminate the subject or else reprogram them. Given he was still alive – and knowing they’d already invested too much in him to kill him – reprogramming him was the only option. Even so, the information he was being given about his past was so arresting he found it impossible to ignore. “Wish I’d never been born,” he cursed absentmindedly as he studied his mother’s image once more.

“You weren’t born,” Kentbridge reminded him. “You were created. There’s a difference.”

Nine thought on that, but no witty reply came to him.

“Your life has a purpose, Sebastian,” the special agent continued. “You should be grateful for that, believe me, because most ordinary citizens just drift through life with zero direction.” Kentbridge nodded toward the fishermen beneath the bridge and council workers enjoying a morning tea break beyond them, indicating he considered them ordinary citizens.

Having had a taste of the world beyond the orphanage and Omega, Nine didn’t agree. However, he remained silent.

“I want you to know I take full responsibility for what happened.” Kentbridge said. “I’m not angry at you. I was at the time, but now in the cold light of day I can see what motivated you to bust out of here.”

Nine noticed his master was talking to him for the first time ever like an adult. He didn’t know whether that was part of the reprogramming or whether his bid for freedom had earned him some respect. Whatever the case, gone was the patronizing tone Kentbridge had always used when talking to him and the other orphans.

About time!

Nine gave Kentbridge his full attention.

“I take total responsibility, Sebastian, because in hindsight I can see my mistake. I never told you or the other orphans the purpose of the Omega Agency. Or what we are fighting for.”

What we are fighting for?
Nine thought that was obvious.
World domination to line the pockets of Naylor and his cronies.

“It’s not about greed,” Kentbridge said as if reading the orphan’s mind. “We are the resistance. The last bastion of hope for freedom.”

“Then who are the bad guys?” Nine retorted with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“The fascists. They took over this country straight after World War Two. Kennedy was the last president who knew anything about this. All those who followed him have been in kept the dark.”

Kentbridge was certain all of the US presidents since JFK had been puppets. The lack of any real decision-making power presidents had was reflected in a long-running joke within the agency:
One could place a monkey in the White House Oval Office and everything would run just fine
.

Nine looked skeptical.

“I’m serious,” Kentbridge insisted. “Why else do you think we are permanently at war in various regions all over the world? And why is it the citizens of this country, one of the richest on earth, get poorer each year?”

The special agent had long-since realized America was not the unified country most people thought it was. Due to his position, he was aware of the extremely fragmented, corrupt and sick state of the nation. He also knew that sickness was entirely due to the conflicting agendas of the various shadow organizations that had infiltrated most Government departments and agencies. Within each power group – be it Congress or the Military-Industrial Complex – there were huge divisions as each of the secret factions strived to be top dog.

Kentbridge explained all this to Nine.

The orphan thought about the Nexus Foundation, and wondered where it fitted in. As long as he could remember, Omega had been fighting or at least competing with Nexus, and he’d always wondered why. Now that Kentbridge was being so open, he decided to ask. “And what about Nexus?”

“Nexus has taken advantage of the malaise that has beset this once great nation. When the Constitution was still respected and followed to the letter, an outfit like Nexus could never have gotten off the ground and there’d be no need for an agency like Omega. Nexus sees us as a threat to its ends and is determined to destroy us, you see.”

Again, Nine wasn’t convinced, and his expression reflected that.

“Think about it, if Omega stood for anything but liberty and the greater good, why would any well-meaning, patriotic group try to prevent us from achieving our goals? I mean, there’s a whole raft of destructive agencies out there Nexus could target. Why pick on us?”

Nine had to admit it was a good question.

Kentbridge continued, “It’s because we stand for something legitimate.”

Although the special agent was making some convincing points, Nine still assumed he was lying to him.
This has all got to be an attempt to brainwash me to accept Omega’s dark agenda
. But he wasn’t entirely correct.

Kentbridge passionately believed that Omega – or
the Light
, as Naylor sometimes referred to the agency – was America’s, and the world’s, only hope of ever unifying. And unification was the only solution for he was also aware that while the public was dividing and conquering itself by focusing on banal, media-driven conflicts such as Neoconservatives versus Liberals, democracy versus terrorism and the West versus the rest, destructive covert outfits were slowly but surely growing stronger.

The special agent also understood how groups like Nexus fostered and benefited from the climate of fear perpetuated in television broadcasts and newspaper headlines. As long as Americans were consumed by fear of evildoers, whether these be communists, terrorists, religious extremists or any other potential enemy, he knew they would never realize the greatest enemy of all was operating
within
– within the West, within America, within their own Government.

“Trust me, Sebastian,” Kentbridge said as he stared out across the river. “We are the resistance fighting for the vision of America’s founding fathers.” He suddenly smiled at the orphan. “Why else do you think I made you guys study the Constitution inside out?”

Again, Nine had no answer. Looking at his mother in the photo he still held, he knew he had a lot to think about.

52

“So Omega is designing a New World Order?” Nine asked as he and Kentbridge waited for traffic lights to change so they could cross a busy street in downtown Chicago. They’d traveled to the city straight from Little Calumet River as the special agent had wanted to spend more time with Nine and make more of an impression on his young mind.

“Yes, but it’s not like it sounds,” Kentbridge said.

The lights changed and the pair crossed the street with other pedestrians.

Kentbridge continued, “There are different types of New World Order scenarios. One would be a world government ruled by a totalitarian regime like the Nazis were working toward. That would obviously be destructive. Another scenario would be one in which a fairer world is created. That’s what we are aiming for. We can unite everybody worldwide and create everlasting peace.”

Nine noticed they were approaching a familiar fountain in a public square. It was very close to where he’d fled from Kentbridge during his escape from the city. The special agent gave no sign that he remembered that escapade.

“Countries, religions, racial disharmony,” Kentbridge continued. “These are the things that have messed up our planet.”

“But surely countries represent different values and belief systems? Can there ever be a single government that unites all these different groups?”

“The only salvation for civilization lies in the creation of a world government,” Kentbridge retorted. “Do you know who said that?”

Nine shook his head, indicating he didn’t.

“Albert Einstein. He warned us decades ago that unless we eventually eradicate countries, new world wars will be inevitable. And before that, centuries earlier, Alexander the Great believed the same thing and was on a mission to conquer and unite the whole world.”

“But if the average citizen knew about our organization, they’d say we are evil, destructive, traitors, elitist and--”

“Correct,” Kentbridge interjected. “But then the average American doesn’t know about the threats this country is under and how their freedoms are being thwarted.”

“Well, if Omega really stands for all things good, what about the killings?” Nine lowered his voice. He knew such topics were not for others’ ears. “I mean, you’ve made it clear we are being trained to kill. Like assassins.” The last word was whispered.

“By all means necessary is our motto,” Kentbridge said ominously. “Small evils are needed in order to fulfill the grand plan of world peace and unification.”

Nine thought about everything his master was telling him. It was a lot to take in. “So what are we orphans then? Mere pawns in Omega’s New World Order agenda?”

“You kids are being molded for greatness. Like members of the Royal Family. They have incredible wealth and opportunities to shape the world, but they also are born into roles they must play out for the sake of tradition. From childhood on they must suffer, and they can never be like others, like ordinary people. You orphans are the same, but I promise you the pay-off for all these struggles will be worth it when you get older. You will do amazing things, Sebastian.”

“I just want to be an everyday person. An average person. Free.”

Kentbridge shook his head. “You are special and nothing like the average person.” He looked around at workers spilling out of shops and office buildings on their lunch breaks. “I mean, look at these people.”

Nine surveyed them. To him, they seemed as if they were all in a trance.

“They’re worker ants,” Kentbridge continued. “Most of them have probably never had an original thought in their life.”