A flushing toilet woke Theo up. His head hurt, almost like a hangover. He rolled out of bed, groaning, grabbed a T-shirt and tugged it on. Scratching his hair vigorously, he headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
At first, the sight of a girl sitting and watching television confused him. Then he remembered. She didn't turn or notice him, her attention riveted to a news channel.
Theo made coffee, instant, the kettle boiling water quickly. Waiting for the mug to cool, blowing on the coffee, he studied his apartment. Something wasn't right. Everything was the same, but not. As he sipped, as caffeine seeped into his system, it finally registered.
Everything wasn't the same. Odds and ends usually scattered on shelves fighting for space with books, were all neatly organized; aligned perfectly. His books were standing upright, not sprawled in odd piles.
On the coffee table, his laptop was aligned with the edge of the table, the mouse neat at the side, and magazines were neatly displayed in a fan shape.
Studying the kitchenette, he noticed the counter was neat, too! Nothing was missing, yet he had more counter space. Salt and pepper grinders were aligned. Kitchen implements were back in the large Mason jar, not haphazardly spread around.
He looked at the kitchen sink. Last night's dinner plates were sitting in the sink, one on top of the other, and the dirty pot was on top of the plates, filled with water, forks and spoons in it.
Moving into the small living room, he noticed the blanket folded neatly at one end of the couch, the pillow fluffed and sitting on top.
The girl concentrated on the television, sitting upright, her hands folded in her lap. Her hair, now completely dry, was pure platinum, straight and neat.
Theo sat next to her, sipped coffee from the chipped mug, and said, "I have to find you clothes and figure out what to do. And I have to go to work."
She turned her head and looked at him.
"Will you be okay on your own here?" Theo asked.
"Yes."
"What size clothes should I buy?"
"I don't know."
"How old are you? That might help find the right size."
"I don't know."
Frustration returned. Theo drained his coffee and left to shower, mulling over how he'd pick clothes that would fit. And who doesn't know how old they are?
The day passed without incident. His job, working in a distribution warehouse processing orders and loading trucks, was mindless. At the end of the day he went to the ATM, checked his balance, frowned, and withdrew a hundred dollars, leaving him with a balance of thirty-two to carry him to next week's payday.
In a Salvation Army thrift store, he searched for clothes, finding socks and boots and underwear, pink sweat pants, a royal blue T-shirt, a sweater, and a colorful padded anorak. Seventy-eight dollars.
With the last of his funds, Theo bought groceries, all non-branded, cheap. Then he headed home.
The neatness of his apartment still surprised him. The girl was sitting on the couch, the television tuned to a news network, and busy studying his laptop. She didn't look up when he entered, as if she hadn't heard him walk in.
Putting away the meager groceries, Theo was astonished to find everything in his refrigerator perfectly organized. He opened cupboards finding everything organized and neat in them. Even the cutlery in the drawer was perfectly arranged!
About to ask why, he stopped. He couldn't call her One. It sounded ridiculous! Grabbing the Salvation Army bags, he went and sat next to her on the couch. She still didn't react, her index finger touching the edge of the laptop case, pages appearing and disappearing on the screen. Images and web pages flashed across the screen so fast he couldn't tell what she was reading - if she was reading.
"Here. I bought you clothes," he informed her, placing the bags next to her. She didn't respond. He touched her arm and she straightened. The screen stopped when her finger lost contact with the case.
"I bought you clothes," he repeated.
She closed the laptop, and looked at the bags.
"Go get dressed," Theo suggested. "If they don't fit, I'll take them back and exchange them. I can't afford to buy more."
She looked at him, still expressionless.
"Change in my bedroom," he suggested, pointing.
When she emerged, Theo grinned. Clearly he had no fashion sense. Pink sweats clashed with the blue T-shirt and yellow socks. Then the girl stunned him.
She smiled. "Pretty colors. Thank you."
Her smile was broad and beautiful, dimples forming, her emerald eyes alight with pleasure. She transformed in front of him.
Theo smiled. "You're welcome."
"It's so soft," she said, rubbing the sweats. "Feel. I've never had colored clothes before."
Theo rubbed her thigh when she sat next to him. The sweats felt like brushed cotton, her thigh very slim.
"You need a name," he said. "I can't call you One. It's not a proper name. So pick a new one."
Her head tilted, her eyes looking into his. She curled her long hair behind a small ear. He thought, with her unusual platinum hair, she looked like an Ashlie.
Her eyes opened wide, almost surprised.
"Ashlie," she said, testing the name. "Okay. I like it."
Theo's jaw dropped. "How did you do that? Can you read minds, too?"
"I'm not sure. I heard you say the name."
Damn! "Can you hear everyone's thoughts?"
"I don't know. This is the first time I've ever heard anyone."
Theo took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. He leaned back on the couch and said, "It's time to talk. And no crazy answers. Where were you living before I found you?
At The Facility."
"What facility?"
"I don't know."
"Why were you at the facility?"
"I don't know."
"Okay, let's try this. Where did you live before the facility?"
"I don't know."
"What about your parents? Where are they?"
"I don't have parents. I've always been at The Facility."
Frustration returned. Theo wracked his brain to find another angle of approach. "Why did you leave it?"
"It was time to help Two, Three, and Four."
"Two, three . . . Are those other kids?"
She nodded.
"In the facility with you?"
"Yes."
"Are they like you?" Theo asked.
"Not really. It didn't work the same with them."
"What didn't work?"
"The experiments. They didn't change."
"What experiments? No! Never mind. Do you know who runs the facility?"
"I do now. The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency."
"DARPA? Why would they be interested in children?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"How do you know it's DARPA?"
"I looked it up on your computer."
Theo sat quietly, his mind busy. Since when did DARPA list their research projects online? Weren't they supposed to be top secret? And if it was DARPA, no wonder he never knew that facility existed. He still didn't understand.
"Show me what you did."
The girl opened the laptop. She touched the edge and pages started flashing up, one after another, so fast he couldn't follow.
"Slow down! Start over and do it slowly."
"Kay." The pages disappeared. She started over with a touch, a DOS box opening.
"How do you do that without typing?" Theo asked.
"The keyboard has different electronic signatures for each key. Those signals are sent to the processor and translated into instructions which open programs. The program formats language and send instructions through packets over the Internet to . . ."
"No. Not that. How do you use the computer by touching it?" Theo clarified, fascinated.
"Electrical signals have energy. You bend the energy and shape it to what you want," the girl answered perfectly seriously.
"You can do that?"
"Uh-huh. It's easy. Watch."
She leaned forward, touched the case again, and instructions appeared across the DOS box on the screen. Suddenly, the DOS screen flowed with scrolling programming language.
"What are you doing?" Theo asked.
"I'm asking the Department of Defense computer if it will let me visit."
"Huh?"
The girl looked at Theo. "You have to ask it if you can visit. It likes to play games with you. Wait." She placed her finger on the laptop case and concentrated, then continued, "It asks me for a new name and then for a funny code. I give it both and it lets me in. See?" She pointed at the screen.
A new page had opened with the DoD logo. When she reached out to touch the laptop, he grabbed her hand and stopped her.
"You can't do that. It's illegal! And how did you know the password?"
She shrugged. "It's a game. I give it any name and code and it has to go back to check if it's right. It stores all the information in a list. I follow it and read a real name and code from the list."
Theo tried to wrap his brain around it and failed. He simply didn't understand.
More pages flashed across the screen. Then it stopped, a DARPA logo displayed. She touched the computer, and screens flashed again. It stopped on a list. She pointed. "That one. Project Athena."
Theo read the notation under the title. Restricted. No electronic record access online. Top secret. Ref: General Howard Lattimer/The Facility. Project initiated 06/04/1996. Status: Confidential.
"It doesn't say anything here," Theo observed, noticing the project started two decades ago.
"General Howard Lattimer and The Facility," the girl said. "This is the only place in DARPA computers those two are used."
"So what did they . . ."
The girl interrupted him. "They've found me." She touched the laptop and a flurry of data scrolled through the DOS box. "They're tracing me," she added, pointing. "We have to go."
"Go? Go where?"
"Away from here. If they get me I can't help Two, Three, and Four."