Free What Comes Next by John Katzenbach Page A

minicams concealed in the ceiling overhead and in two corners of the artificial walls. Only one would pick up the entrance, and that one was saved for dramatic purposes, moments when either Michael or Linda was entering the room. It would titillate the viewers because something was going to take place. Linda knew that at this moment it was shut down. This visit was preliminary, just the first move in the feeling-out process.
    In her pocket was a small electronic remote control. She slipped her finger over a button that she knew would freeze the image being fed out electronically. She waited until the moment that the hooded girl nervously turned ever so slightly in Linda’s direction. Then she hit the button.
    They will know she heard something …
    … But they won’t know what.
    She and Michael had long before learned the advantages of the tease in sales.
    She walked slowly forward.
    The girl was following her movements beneath the mask encasing her head. She had not said anything yet. Fear made some people rattle on aimlessly and helplessly begging, pleading, reverting to infancy, while others managed a sullen, doomed silence. She did not know what Number 4 would be like. She was the youngest subject they’d ever employed, which made it an adventure for Michael and her as well.
    Linda took up a position at the foot of the bed. She spoke in a flat monotone that concealed her own excitement. She did not raise her voice or emphasize any word. She remained utterly cold. She was practiced at the art of delivering threats, and equally practiced at carrying them out.
    “Do not say anything. Do not move. Do not scream or struggle. Just pay attention to everything I tell you and you will not be hurt. If you expect to live through this, you will do exactly as you are told at all times, regardless of what it is you are asked to do and what you might feel about doing it.”
    The girl on the bed stiffened and quivered but did not speak.
    “Those are the most important rules. There will be others later.”
    She paused. She half expected the girl to plead with her right at that moment. But Jennifer remained quiet.
    “From now on, your name is Number Four.”
    Linda thought she heard a small moan, muffled by the black hood. That was acceptable, even expected.
    “If you are asked a question, you must answer. Do you understand?”
    Jennifer nodded.
    “Answer!”
    “Yes,” she said rapidly, her voice gasping beneath the mask.
    Linda hesitated. She tried to imagine the panic beneath the headgear. Not like high school, little girl, is it?
    She did not say this out loud. Instead, she simply continued her monotone.
    “Let me explain something, Number Four. Everything you knew about your life before has now ended. Who you were, what you wanted to be, your family, your friends— everything that was once familiar —no longer exists. There is only this room and what happens in here.”
    Again, Linda examined Jennifer’s body language, as if looking for some clue that she understood.
    “From this moment, you belong to us.”
    The girl seemed to stiffen and freeze. But she did not cry out. Others had. Number 3 in particular had battled them almost every step of the way—fighting, biting, screaming—which, of course, hadn’t been an altogether bad thing once Michael and she had figured out what the rules had to be, because it created a different type of drama. That was part of the adventure and part of the attraction, Linda knew. Each subject demanded a different set of rules. Each was unique from the very beginning. She could sense excited warmth coursing through her own body but she controlled it. She looked over at the girl on the bed. She is listening carefully, Linda thought. Smart girl.
    Not bad, Linda decided right then. Not bad at all. She will be special.
    Jennifer screamed inwardly, as if suddenly she could let loose something within herself that reflected her terror and could travel beyond the mask, beyond the chains that