"'Come now,' Count Olaf said, his voice faking- a word which here means feigning-kindness. He reached out a hand and stroked Violet's hair. 'Would it be so terrible to be my bride, to live in my house for the rest of your life? You're such a lovely girl, I wouldn't dispose of you like your brother and sister.'"
Cornelius listened intently, despite having told me he knew the book word by word. With some help here and there, I was able to learn how to read. We had started the book a few days ago, and it was nearly finished. I wondered if the book had lied and would have a truly happy ending.
"Cornelius," I started to ask, snapping him back into reality. "How does the story end?"
He paused, thinking of how to answer in a way that would avoid the question entirely.
"It ends the way anything does. Not in a perfect way, that will make you happy, but in a way that still brings it all together. It's not happy, but it's not sad. It's an ending that you can live with. It might make you cry. It might not. We'll just have to see when we get there."
I looked down at Brixton, who sat at my feet with his ears pricked toward me. He seemed to be listening as well. As for Lionel and Kingsley, they stood guard at the door as diligently as soldiers. I wondered if they didn't come in farther because of me. This thought brought back the memory of what happened in the waiting area.
"Did you ever find out what was wrong with me from the scientists?" I asked.
"No," he said, a little too quickly. "They don't have any results yet and won't for a long time."
"Will I ever go back to the waiting room to get my promotion?" I became suspicious, wanting every answer I could get.
"No," he answered again, sounding less calm. "You're not going back there."
"Why not?"
"Your leg is broken."
"I have it in a cast."
"So?" he asked, obviously flustered.
"So, I'd like to see what's on the other side of that door."
"Well so would I but so much for that."
The remark would have been funny if in another case, but I only wanted answers. Laughing would (unfortunately) have to wait.
"Cornelius."
"Genevieve."
"What's on the other side of the door?"
"The fuel room."
"What's in the fuel room?"
"A very large dome and a chain of furnaces."
"What's the dome for?" I asked, never remembering a dome being included in the blueprints I needed when working in Pipeworks.
"Preparing the fuel. It's a biological material that has to go through a certain process to decompose the living cells so it'll burn easier," he answered easily. He had a good way of avoiding the details.
"What biological material?" I was getting close to the answer I needed. If I found out, I could finally know why this whole thing was so suspicious.
Unfortunately, the conversation was interrupted by a grunt at the doorway. I turned, and saw the bull woman that had helped me to the fuel room when I broke my ankle.
"Aletha, excellent timing. We were just finishing up," Cornelius said, sounding a little too relieved. "Here for the dogs?"
Aletha nodded her large brown head, reaching down and petting Lionel's back. Her horns nearly hit the edge of the doorway when she kneeled to reach him. (Which didn't make much sense to me. Didn't males have horns?)
"Excellent. Why don't you take Miss Cortez with you?" Cornelius suggested. "It's best if she gets some fresh air and stretches her limbs."
She looked at me, waiting for me to get up. I glanced in Cornelius's direction, debating on whether I should. Eventually, I closed the book, put it on his desk, and followed Aletha out of the apartment and down the stairs. Brixton trailed behind faithfully.
I hadn't been outside of the apartment in weeks. I had forgotten how noisy the engine room was, and that we had even been above so much machinery. While workers bustled back and forth, we walked by looking like some sort of strange parade. A massive bull woman leading, two obsidian great danes following side by side, and a short human girl hobbling behind with a furball in her arms.
We all paraded through the engine room, past the lab where I had samples taken, and I suddenly found myself in a dark corridor with a door at the end. Light seeped through the crack between the threshold and door, reminding me that there was still a world outside of the factory. Aletha pulled a key ring out of a pocket in her trousers, and unlocked three deadbolts before undoing a latch, turning the handle, and revealing a scene shrouded in whites and grays.
A gust of freezing wind blew in, instantly making me wish for some sort of coat. The sky yielded a usual ensemble of silver and aluminum clouds of steam. (You would expect them to make Earthica warmer, but the steam is shot so high into the atmosphere that the water becomes extremely cold. The only precipitation there is is snow and freezing rain.)
Lionel and Kingsley adopted an energetic nature, and ran out into the snowy yard. I felt Brixton struggle, so I set him down. He ran after the two, yapping as if to call for the others to wait for him. They momentarily broke out into a game of their own creation, whereas Aletha and I stood in the doorway. She turned to me, as if she wanted to say something, but briefly looked back out at the dogs.
"Can you speak?" I asked eventually.
She shook her head no. I'd have to keep the conversation simple, so she could answer. She understood english, so it would be relatively easy.
"How long have you been here?"
She held up both hands, with her fingers spread. Ten years.
"That's a pretty long time. Did you always work for Cornelius?"
Aletha grunted, and shook her head. I realized it was a stupid question. Cornelius was too young to have had control of the Factory 10 years ago.
"His family?"
She nodded, once again holding up her hands. Aletha had worked for them the entire 10 years. They would have trusted her with the knowledge of what's in the fuel room, right? If they trusted her around their son, she at least knew something.
"Do you know what's in the fuel room?"
Aletha looked at me, and I noticed her broad shoulders droop slightly. She nodded hesitantly, audibly gulping. A pit formed in my stomach, colder than the wind whipping dark curls into my face. I didn't know why it was there, but I wanted it gone.
"Do you know what they use as fuel?"
She knelt down, and dipped a stout finger into the snow. She shivered a little, but drew out 7 letters. I was still new to reading, but I knew this word. 7 letters that spelled out the reason I was "promoted". 7 letters that spelled out why so many people didn't come back out.
MUTANTS.
