Tweedledum and Tweedledee (Emma Frost) Page 12

  "As you gentlemen might see, we do believe there is no future for them in our society if they stay conjoined," the one with glasses continued. "We do believe it would serve both of them best if they were separated. That's the only way we can start treatment of them separately. The way it is now, they seem to only be interested in each other and nothing else. They even speak their own language between them that no one else understands."

  "I concur," another of the men said. "The only way these two can get better and get a life is if they're separated."

  "But, you really think it’s possible?" another one said. "I mean, they share lots of vital organs, don't they? A surgery like this is usually best done at birth, am I correct?"

  The man with the glasses nodded, then pulled out a big picture and showed it to them. "As our examination of them while they were sedated shows, they each have their own brain, heart and two kidneys; they only have one liver and a single reproductive organ. Their third leg is vestigial and the twins keep it concealed in their clothing. They can stand, but they cannot walk; they crawl on their hands and feet, which is why they have long been known as the Spider-boys. The twins are joined at the abdomen and pelvis, have four arms, and three legs. So, if you look at it, all they really share is the liver and their reproductive organ. The way I see it, separation is not only possible, it's a must. Their body won't be able to continue to sustain keeping both of them alive. Just the fact that they're walking on their arms provides an unnecessary strain on their joints. It's just not natural what they're doing. Not to mention their psychological state of mind. The way it is now, they're like wild animals. No one has taken care of them and they need our help. Now, after the surgery the one on the left will have two legs, the other only one, and will not be able to walk. But the way I see it, at least one of them will have the chance to have a completely normal life. The other will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, but will still be able to live close to normally. Time will tell if a liver transplant is needed. With the right medicine and behavioral therapy afterwards, I believe we can make it far with them. I will, of course, perform the procedure myself."

  The bearded man patted the man with the glasses on the shoulder. "Surgery to separate conjoined twins is an extremely complex surgery, depending of course on the point of attachment and the internal parts that are shared. Most cases of separation are extremely risky and life-threatening. If you pull this off, your name will be in the books of medical history my friend. You'll be up there with Dr. Bertram Katz, who performed the first separation in 1957."

  The man with the glasses nodded. He smiled with satisfaction while his colleague spoke.

  "Dr. Alessandrino, the world-renowned surgeon who was first to successfully separate teen-aged conjoined twins. That is truly something, huh?"

  Then they all left, nodding and mumbling.

  Back in the room, the twins had become quiet as the grave. They might not be able to understand many things, but they knew what separation meant.

  43

  April 2014

  THE MAN SAW A bright light and thought for a second he might have died. Until he opened his eyes and realized the light was coming from the lamp above his head, the lamp lighting up the dark restroom on the ship.

  His shoulder was hurting badly and he groaned while trying to get up. A voice reached him from beyond the bright light.

  "Are you alright, sir?"

  The man squinted. He spotted a dark face in the distance. "What…what happened?" he asked.

  "I believe you fainted, sir."

  The man blinked his eyes several times and now realized a crowd had gathered in the restroom and they were all looking at him.

  "Are you alright, sir?" someone repeated.

  The man grunted. He sat up and held a hand to his hurting shoulder, while everything slowly came back to him. The failed attempt to catch another donor, the dizziness, the sea of stars that he had plunged into as the boy had left calling him an old pig.

  "I'm fine," he growled.

  He tried to get up. Someone grabbed his arm and helped him.

  "I think you're bleeding, sir. Do you want me to call for help?"

  The man shook his head. He needed to get away before the boy said anything to his mother. He had no idea how long he had been lying on the floor.

  "Deedee," he mumbled and let himself be pulled up from the ground.

  "What was that?"

  The man shook his head. He felt drops of sweat roll across hos forehead. His cheeks were burning. He had to get ahold of some penicillin.

  "Nothing. I just…I just need to…If I could only…," he pointed at the door and the crowd spread and let him exit the restroom. The man hurried through the fast-food restaurant and spotted the boy sitting next to his mother playing his Gameboy. The man breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't said anything.

  The man staggered through the ship's corridors, while he sensed how he was slowly regaining his strength and ability to think straight.

  Deedee needs you. Deedee needs a donor. Can't give up now. Not when we're this close. You need to focus on what's important now.

  The man didn't have to think for long before he knew what to do. He had messed up. The boy in the restroom had seen his face and would tell as soon as another boy disappeared. He would tell them about the strange man in the restroom. Then they would know who to look for. They would come for him. The man couldn't risk being stopped. Not now that he was so close. He had to move on with his plan. Before anyone was on to him. This was more important than anything else.

  The man stormed up the stairs to the upper deck, then paused to catch his breath. He walked slowly towards the room where he knew the boy was staying. The man had kept a close eye on him ever since he saw him on the deck on the day of the departure.

  As the man was walking towards the door, it opened and he decided to continue straight ahead. The woman the man believed was the boy's mother exited looking very determined and closed the door behind her. The man smiled at her and nodded politely as he walked past her room. The woman smiled back, said a quiet "Hello," then continued in the opposite direction.

  I can't believe our luck, Deedee. Did you see it, did you? She didn't bring the boy. She left him in the room, Deedee. I can't believe it. Soon you'll have your face. I promise it.

  The man pulled out a card and put it in the reader. He slid it soundlessly and waited for the click-sound and the green lamp to flash.

  Then, he entered. The younger boy was lying on the couch in the living room of the suite. The other was in the smaller bedroom, also asleep. The man approached him walking silently across the carpets. Then he stopped. There was a sound from somewhere else. It sounded like it came from the master bedroom. The door was closed. The man held his breath. Was there someone in there? Who?

  The man shook his head. It didn't matter. The people in there seemed busy. A woman whined in joy. The man concentrated on the boy. He snuck closer. The boy's eyes were closed. His breathing calm. He seemed to be asleep.

  Just a few minutes more, Deedee. Just a little longer.

  The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. Without making a sound, he placed it on the boy's bare thigh, right where the shorts stopped and pressed it through the skin with a small groan of pleasure.

  Now he's ours Deedee. He's all ours.

  44

  April 2014

  I WENT DOWNSTAIRS and walked around a little. My mom told me the man had fainted in the bathroom next to the fried chicken place. I walked in there and close to the men's bathroom, but no one was there. There wasn't even a crowd of people. I asked a guy coming out of the restroom and he told me he hadn't seen or heard anything.

  I decided it had to be another restroom, so I started going through all of them on the deck. But I found no man that had fainted or anyone who could tell me about it. I stopped several strangers on my way and asked if they knew about a guy fainting in the bathroom, but no one could tell me anything.

  I
t was all a little odd, I thought.

  After about twenty minutes, I decided to get back. I wasn't getting anywhere with this. Maybe him fainting had nothing to do with the killings. After all, he could just have been sick or something.

  Except your mom said he was bleeding from the shoulder.

  Well, he could have hurt himself, right? Maybe he fainted and hurt his shoulder in the fall. I took the ship’s elevator back to my deck, then walked to my suite’s door and slid my card through the reader. I opened it and walked inside. I noticed the ship was hardly moving anymore and, suddenly, it came to a stop. I was surprised by this, since I had expected it to find harbor as soon as possible.

  "Mom? Dad? I'm back. I couldn't…"

  I froze immediately. There was no one here? "Mom? Dad? Victor?" I asked.

  I walked into the living room and found Victor sleeping on the couch. The TV was still on, but where were my mom and dad? Where was Christoffer? I turned off the TV, walked to his room, and found it empty. That was strange. Had they gone back to their suite and taken only Christoffer with them?

  "Mom? Dad?" I asked again.

  Then I heard it. The sound no child should ever have to hear. The sound of my parents having sex.

  Oh, my God! Oh my…they're doing it in my bedroom?!

  I had no idea what to do with myself. I felt infuriated and embarrassed, all at the same time. But most of all, I felt frustrated because I had no idea where Christoffer was. And what about Victor? Had he heard any of this?

  How can they be this irresponsible? They're supposed to be grown-ups. They're my parents, for crying out loud.

  I had no idea what to do next. I was standing there, listening to my mother whine and my dad groan, covering my ears with my hands.

  This is crazy! What do I do? I can't go in there. I simply can't. I don't want to see them like this. But I need to know where Christoffer is. And I need this to stop. I need to let them know I'm in here. Let them know that I can HEAR them!

  I felt mostly like screaming. So, that’s what I did. I yelled their names. Standing right outside their door.

  "ULLA and BENGT!"

  The noise stopped. I looked at Victor. He moved, but was still sleeping. There was turmoil behind the door and I moved away. I heard fumbling, chitchatting, and someone moving fast. Finally, my dad came out. His thin hair was messy and his clothes were disorganized. He was blushing and panting at the same time.

  "Emma! You're back," he said.

  "Yes. Yes, I am," I said, talking way too loud and shrill.

  "Well, your mom and I were just…," he straightened his hair back while he searched for an explanation. It was painful to both watch and hear. "Well, we were just…taking a little nap."

  "Don't even try," I said.

  My dad chuckled. "Sorry. Guess you heard us?"

  "Kind of hard not to."

  "Sorry about that."

  I exhaled. My dad had a blissful look on his face. I was thrilled to see him this happy, I had to admit. Even given the circumstances. I just wished it hadn't been in my bed. I would have to have one of the maids come to my room and change the sheets.

  "Just don't do it in my bed again, alright?"

  My mom came out of the bedroom. She was blushing as well. "Emma? Is that you? You're back fast."

  I shook my head, trying to erase the mental images I had made. I really wanted to forget it.

  "Let's not talk about it anymore," I said. "Where is Christoffer?"

  My mom and dad looked at each other then at the couch in the living room where Victor was sleeping. My mom walked to Christoffer's bedroom.

  "He's not here?" my dad asked.

  My heart started racing in my chest. "You mean to tell me you don't know where Christoffer is?"

  "Easy now, Emma," my mother said. "He's must be here somewhere. Maybe he is hiding…Have you checked everywhere?"

  I stormed back into the living room, calling his name.

  "Christoffer?"

  With angry and frustrated steps, I walked onto the balcony and looked for him, then the bathroom, and the bedroom, checking the closet, underneath the bed and any place he could be hiding.

  "I don't understand this, Emma," my dad said. "I swear he was in his room. Sound asleep. We would never have gone in the bedroom if he was awake. They were both asleep, so we thought there wouldn't be any harm in…"

  "It's the truth, Emma. They were both asleep when your dad and I decided to…," she looked at my father. Then she looked down. "To also take a little nap."

  "I can't believe this," I growled at them, infuriated. "I left you in charge of the boys and now one of them is gone. What the hell were you thinking?"

  Victor woke up now. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

  "Now, easy there, Emma," my dad said. "Your mother is right. He fell asleep on the bed. Let’s think about this for a little while. I mean, what can have happened here? No one can get in here when the door is locked. He must be hiding here somewhere. I…I…can't see how…"

  "Of course you can't. But that’s what happened. He is missing. Just like the Alberto Colombo kid and Francesca Alessandrino. All because you didn't keep an eye on him like I told you to. All because you couldn't…keep your hands to yourselves."

  45

  April 2014

  I WAS SO ANGRY I couldn't stand still. My mom and dad looked like children who had messed up. They were coming up with new excuses and trying to calm me down.

  "Now Emma, let's try and be reasonable here," my dad said. "We need to think this through first, alright?"

  "Yes," my mom said. "We can't jump to any conclusion now. We need to keep our heads clear."

  It didn't work. I stared, infuriated, at my irresponsible parents while a thousand thoughts flickered through my mind. Where could he be? Had the killer taken him? If so, then I needed to react fast, didn't I? Was it already too late?

  Oh, my God. I'll have to tell Sophia if he’s missing. It'll crush her. I need to find him.

  "Now, let's just take it easy," my dad continued.

  "Yes, let's' wait and see," my mom continued.

  I stared at them. "Wait and see? Wait for what? For his picture to be shoved under the door?"

  "Now, Emma," my dad said. "We don't know that this killer-person has taken him. I mean, the door was locked. Can't he have wandered off on his own? Maybe he went on an adventure on the ship."

  "That's not very like Christoffer," I said. "He’s very responsible." I could hear my voice was shaking. I couldn't just stand here while Sophia's son might be in danger. I had to do something. I was responsible for him.

  "I'll go look for him," I said.

  "I'll go with you," my dad said. "Four eyes are better than two."

  "Someone has to stay here with Victor and in case he comes back on his own," my mom said. "I'll do that."

  I stormed out the door with my dad following me. "So where do we start?" my dad asked.

  "I have an idea," I said. I ran towards the stairs and took them two steps at a time until I reached the deck below ours. My dad followed me closely.

  "Where are we going?" my dad asked, panting.

  "I don't know just yet. But I have an idea where his kidnapper might be. Follow me. My guess is, he’s on the pool deck."

  I found the entrance to the pool deck and ran through the glass doors. I scanned the area quickly and spotted the photographer on the other side. He was talking to a family of four, then he took a picture of them.

  "I always thought there was something odd about this guy," I said and walked quickly towards him. "I mean, look at how he dresses. Who wears a black coat outside when it's eighty degrees?"

  I ran up to the man and threw myself at him. "Where is he?" I yelled, while grabbing his coat. "I want him back. Now!"

  The man in the black coat held onto his camera like it was his only lifeline while I shook him. People surrounding us started to look.

  "You took him, didn't you?" I continued. "You killed Alberto Colombo, Francesc
a Alessandrino, and the guy she was with; I know you did. And you placed those photos underneath their doors, you bastard. Why did you even do that? To make them suffer, huh? To let them know how powerful you are? That you decide who will live and who will die? Is that it? Is it a power trip?"

  The photographer tried to fight me off and break loose. I held on to him, then tackled his legs so he fell onto the deck. I placed my foot on his neck and held him down. People had started gathering around us.

  "Where is he? Where is Christoffer?" I yelled. "Tell me where he is!"

  "I don't know where he is," the photographer moaned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  I sat on his back and held his head into the pavement of the pool deck. "I don't believe you. You took him. Where is he?"

  The photographer was about to answer me, when the sound of something approaching in the air drowned out every word. I looked up and saw a huge helicopter floating over our heads. It had the word Polizia written on its side.

  46

  April 2014

  "RIGHT ON TIME," I muttered, as the Italian police came onboard the ship. They sprang out of the helicopter when it landed on the heli-pad on the tip of the ship.

  An officer with very blue eyes came towards me, flanked by four other officers. Between them walked a guy I thought I had seen before and, as they came closer, I realized where.

  The surveillance camera! He's the guy that was with Francesca!

  I couldn't believe he was alive. But what did it mean?

  "What is going on here?" the officer with the very blue eyes asked as he approached me.

  I looked down at the photographer beneath me. I was still sitting on his back. "This man has kidnapped a boy. I believe he killed three…uh, two passengers onboard and that he is planning on killing this boy too. I'm responsible for the boy."

  "Let us take care of this," the officer said and signaled for me to get up. He grabbed the photographer by the neck and pulled him up. The guy from the surveillance camera stepped forward.