Doesn’t matter.
Doesn’t. Matter.
She just wanted to get this info dump over with. There was a lot he already knew, a lot she could simply elaborate on. A few things she could give him. Some she even hoped would ease the pain she’d caused him in the past.
But there were things she’d never expose. Not unless all the fail-safes she’d created crashed and someone was holding a gun at Mitch’s head.
“When I started with the program,” Halina said, “I was told we were all working to improve the human gene pool. The theory was that by strengthening the human genetic structure, future generations would experience a higher quality of life.
“And before you ask,” she held up a hand, “yes, I realized I was working for the Department of Defense, not the United Nations. And yes, the short-term goal for this project was to enhance the genetic makeup of American soldiers. But the long-term goal was to make the enhancements available to all Americans. My dream was always that someday it would be available to all humans worldwide, which wasn’t unrealistic. DARPA research has benefited the American public for decades.
“The anthrax vaccine, penicillin refinement and distribution, wound-stasis foam, revolutionized prosthetics, and too many defenses against infectious diseases to name. Of course there’s GPS, the Internet, biofuel, voice-recognition software, radar, nuclear power. I believed—I still believe—my work has a place among those amazing discoveries. My research, God, it was fascinating.”
She closed her eyes as the remembered thrill of her discoveries expanded inside her like a hot ball of energy. She’d known with her entire soul that she’d found her life’s work. Had been over the moon when it had become all that she’d hoped for and more. Had been devastated when she’d had to break it down and run.
“I found safe ways to alter genetic structure that would have brought fabulous advancements to humankind,” she continued, her gaze going distant as she remembered the thrill of each breakthrough. “The enhancement of almost every essential function in the body, creating stronger, smarter, more compassionate human beings. The eradication of horrendous diseases—AIDS, hepatitis C, diabetes, dozens of cancers.
“The benefits this type of change could have brought to society were endless. Increased quality and longevity of life, prevalence of an efficient, productive workforce, advanced intelligence, unlimited innovations in science, engineering, medicine, the arts, elimination of virtually all birth defects, decreased pain and suffering.
“Financially, there would be drastic reductions in medical care, enabling a healthcare system that could offer coverage to everyone without burdening the public. Huge boosts to the economy would ensure unemployment’s extinction. Federal and state governments would have a steady flow of income, schools would have funding from private and public sources, education would be available to everyone, not just the most intelligent or the wealthiest—”
She stopped herself, breathless. She’d whipped herself into a light-headed frenzy simply recalling the possibilities. She’d discovered a method of life-altering science that would better the lives of nearly every human being on the planet.
What more could one person do for humanity? What better purpose could one person hold in life?
She’d been complete.
Mitch’s love had been the sprinkle of twenty-four-carat stardust over everything she’d ever dreamed for in life.
“I can see how it thrilled you.”
Mitch’s voice dragged her right back to earth. His expression confirmed the tone she’d suspected. He was struggling to remain neutral, but beneath the mask, he was hurt. It shone in his eyes, in the flecks of gold sparkling among the green. In the tightness of his mouth. In the deeper shadows beneath his eyes. Hurt, sadness, loss.
Regret swelled in her throat and tightened her chest. He’d given her everything. He’d given her 150 percent of himself . . . and she’d held back, lied, given him nothing but a shell of the real her, then abandoned him.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t share it with me back then,” he said, his voice soft, pain radiating in his serious tone. “Disappointed I missed out on that part of you.”
Halina turned her gaze out the window to the pale blue sky, but closed her eyes on the sudden, sweeping pain. “Me too,” she whispered. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but it was so hard—”
She choked, unable to finish. Which was just as well. She would never be able to do the emotions justice with simple words. The pain had been too deep, the loneliness too all-consuming, the loss too overwhelming.
“I can imagine,” he said, his earlier anger still at bay. “One lie turns into two, which turns into—”
“Four, then sixteen . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut, the weight of all the lies making her feel heavy in her seat. She shook her head in frustration, then looked out at the sky. “And working for DoD—at least in the capacity I did, with the clearances I had—was a lot like working for the CIA. Nobody can know what you do, where you work, whom you really work for. I know it was the same for the others in the lab—at least to some degree. Though in hindsight, I also know that I believed Schaeffer when he put the fear of God into me about letting even the slightest information leak.
“Changing my name at the beginning was a condition of my employment, standard procedure, he’d said. One for work, one for personal, different from my given name. But I never verified that with others. It just wasn’t something we talked about.
“And in the beginning, with you and me”—her stomach clenched hard, regret thick and hot as she glanced at him, then away—“I didn’t think it was a big deal. I thought there would be time, you know, once we got to know each other better, to explain. But we . . .”
She sighed, dropped her head, and rubbed at the sting of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t going to be able to hold them back for long. She could feel them building deep in her chest. The guilt had eaten away at her for so long in silence, it pounded at her now to be freed, expressed, his loss grieved.
She cleared her throat. “We got so close, so fast. And before I knew it, I was a thousand lies deep with you and terrified of what would happen if . . .”
She couldn’t finish.
Mitch did it for her. “If you told me the truth.”
She pulled her lip between her teeth and bit down to keep herself together. The shame of it overwhelmed her. God, she wished she could have avoided all this. Wished she could have just shaken him off earlier and gotten away.
The white noise from the plane’s engines filled the cabin for a moment, and when Mitch didn’t say anything, Halina chanced a sidelong glance at him. He was staring blankly at the table as if dazed by a blow to the head, his brow drawn in deep, confusing thought, a few fingers sliding back and forth over his mouth.
She needed to redirect to the facts and veer away from the emotions. Halina rested her shoulder against a wall separating seating sections and continued.
“Schaeffer lied to me about the purpose of the project—but I only found out after I’d discovered a dependable, repeatable way of successfully altering DNA sequences to include all the benefits.”
Halina’s stomach clenched in preparation for giving him the deepest information she planned on offering. This was the line in the sand. When he glanced up, she took a breath, let it out, and met his gaze.
“He wanted me to clone my little genetic miracles.”
Mitch tipped his head, two fingers pressed against his lower lip, a frown creasing his forehead. “Isn’t cloning one of those things you do in labs? I mean, it’s common in all genetic research, isn’t it?”