Four sat with his legs folded beneath him in what reminded Dr. Riley, the staff anthropologist and now a few bloggers, of the yoga pose virasana.  Dr. Riley blathered on about how the position in which Four tended to sit was part of his racial consciousness, but Bronlie thought that idiocy.  Both the ovum and sperm selected were from parents with as diverse racial genetic material as possible, so that no one race could claim these children.

Bronlie shook his head as he mulled that thought over.  His IronMan wristwatch beeped and he pressed the intercom button next to the hi-def screen.

"Children," he heard his voice synthesized the way the children heard it, a soft, gender-neutral voice, minus his Boston twang.  The brothers stopped what they were doing and stared up at the ceiling.

"Rotate."

On screen, Number Two walked over to Number Three who still sat at the Shape Station.  Three had been trying for the last five minutes to get a star shaped block to go through a round hole.  He had passed it through the square hole and even the triangular hole, but couldn’t get it to go through the round hole.  When Number Two came to relieve Number Three, Three handed him the star shaped block, shrugged and walked over to Number Four.  Number Two sat down and tried to get the star shaped block through the round hole.

Bronlie checked his watch and rubbed his nose where his glasses rested.  The computer beeped.  A new thread had formed, this one from #4marRYme.  It was titled,

what IS my LOVE doING!?

Bronlie looked at the screen.

Number Four hadn’t moved.

The computer beeped again.  Two new threads had been started.  The first titled ,

#4marRYme is an IDiot,

followed by,

Bronlie stood before the hi-def screen.  Number Three still stood by Number Four.  Three shifted his weight from foot to foot.  All the other children had rotated as the Voice had said to do, except for Number Four.  Three’s cheeks flushed bright red. 

"I am not seeing this," Dr. Patterson said, standing outside the door.  He took a loud sip of coffee and smiled at Bronlie.

Bronlie ignored him and focused on Number Three’s burning cheeks.  There was no way for Three to be embarrassed.  He had never known embarrassment before.  These boys were exactly the same; there was no place here for any sort of imbalance like embarrassment.  The idea was inconceivable to Bronlie.

"But," Patterson said, "I’m not surprised."  He entered the room and sat at the computer desk, stirring his coffee.  He said, "You can’t control emotion, doctor."

"It’s not emotion," Bronlie said.

"No?"

"No," Bronlie said, turning on Patterson.  "Besides, Three’s not the problem."

Bronlie turned back to the screen and double tapped it.  A large wheel appeared.  Bronlie spun the wheel counter-clockwise and rewound the feed to just before Three walked over to Four.

"This is not good," Patterson said.

Bronlie paused the feed as Number Four was beginning to correct his imbalance.

"I am not seeing that," Patterson said.

Bronlie said, "How do we correct that?"

"We can’t."

Bronlie shook his head and returned to live feed.  The picture had no sooner changed back than Bronlie and Patterson saw Number Three shove Number Four again.

The computer beeped.  Bronlie checked the forum website and saw the new thread, this one by his old friend Blinker543:

humanIty wIns agaIn!

In the matter of seconds it took for Bronlie to see the thread, a dozen bloggers had already added their thoughts to Blinker543’s message.

"Unh."

Bronlie looked back at the hi-def screen.  Number Three’s face was contorted.  His hands flexed at his side, alternately gripping into fists then relaxing, gripping and relaxing.

"Did he just speak?"  Bronlie said out loud.

"He couldn’t," Patterson said.

"I think he just spoke."

"No," Patterson said.  Patterson stepped up to the oversized screen and rewound the feed, replaying the last minute.  Both doctors stood before the screen, arms folded, readjusting their glasses, heads cocked to the side as they strained to listen.

"Unh."

All the other brothers turned their faces from Number Three and Four.  The brothers occasionally shot a worried look up at the speaker in the center of ceiling.  Bronlie reached for the intercom button.

"Don’t do that," Patterson said.

Patterson looked around the closet office as if trying to decide.  "I’m ending Social Learning Time."

"The experiment won’t be worth anything if you modify it anytime things don’t go like you’d planned."

"If I let this continue, the our results are worthless anyway."

Suddenly, Number Three stopped screaming.  The two doctors looked to the screen and watched Number Three walk back to the station he had been at before and take the star shaped block from Number Two.  Number Two looked amazed that Number Three had dared to take his block.  Number Two walked after Number Three and grabbed his shoulder.  Number Three shrugged him off.  When Number Two tried it again, Number Three said, "Unh!"

The sound made Number Two’s eyes go wide.  Several of the other children watched as Number Three backed up slowly with the star shaped block to Number Four.

"Tell me he is not doing what I think he’s doing," Patterson said.

Numbers Seven, Eight and Eleven stood behind Two, all watching Number Three.  Number Two smiled at Seven, Eight and Eleven.  Blinker543 posted a new thread titled,

smIle!

Two, Seven, Eight and Eleven took a step toward Three.  Number Three raised the star shaped block over his head.

"He’s not going to throw that at Number Two, is he!?"  Patterson squawked.

"Shut up!"  Bronlie said.  He pressed the intercom button.  "Children, sit down."

The computer had a hard time masking the urgency of Bronlie’s voice, but most of the children obeyed at the sound anyway, except for Numbers Three, Two, and Seven.  Number Seven stood next to Four.

"Can’t be," Patterson said.

"What can’t be?"

"Number Seven.  He’s not defending Number Two, is he?"

Seven and Two took another step toward Three.  Three shook the star shaped block over his head and said.  "UNH!"

"Well, isn’t this great,"  Patterson said.

Bronlie turned on Patterson and said, "Look, doctor, if you are going to be a distraction, then you can get the hell out of my observation room."

"It’s not your observation room, Bronlie," Patterson said, mocking him with every word.

Bronlie got up in Patterson’s face.  He was about to call him a clever vulgar term he heard on the radio that morning for someone who thought celery had something to do with procreation when they both heard a dull thud.  The computer beeped.

On screen, Three no longer held the star shaped block and Two no longer stood.  Two lay on the floor, eyes rolled back so only the whites appeared.  The bloggers were incensed.  A new thread was started titled,

the wInd up, AND THE PiTCH!

by Bronlie’s good friend, Blinker543.

"Oh my God," Patterson said.

Seven picked up the star shaped block as Three turned to Number Four.  Seven put the star shaped block in one of Number Two’s limp hands, returned to his station and sat down like the other children.

Number Three screamed at Number Four, "UNH!!!"  Four still had not moved.

"I’m calling the Handlers.  We have to check on Number Two," Bronlie said.

"No," Patterson said.

"Don’t yell at me!"  Patterson yelled.  "Don’t yell at me!"  He shook his head and lowered his voice.  "It doesn’t matter.  I’ll tend to it myself."

"Don’t you dare Patterson."

Patterson didn’t bother to respond, he was already out the door.  When Bronlie turned back around, Number Three pulled Four toward him then slammed him against the wall with a thud.  A few of the children covered their ears to block out the sound, the others stared at the speaker, then at Three banging Four into the wall, their hands rising and falling in indecision.  Soon only Seven and Eleven kept their ears uncovered and their faces fully turned toward Number Three.

"UNH!!!"

Number Three balled up his fist and punched Number Four in the ear.  Four’s head bounced off the wall with another hollow thud.  The sound shook the monitor on the wall.

The only door into the room opened and Patterson told the boys to sit down.  Bronlie checked to make sure this was being recorded.  It was.  The reaction on the brothers’ faces to seeing an adult for the first time was incredible.  All they had seen before were the Handlers, and that only rarely.  For a moment, all the hard work that Bronlie had invested himself in for the last ten years, the sacrifices he made personally, with his family, were all worth it.  On each face was stamped a moment of discovery.  It was beautiful.  The experiment was, of course, ruined.

Patterson took a step forward.  He said, "Number Three!  Sit down!  Now!" There was no synthesizer for his voice, but Three obeyed regardless.

Behind Patterson, the door through which he entered closed.  When he turned around, he saw Number Two who had been lying next to the door had pushed it closed with his foot.  Patterson looked down at Number Two and to Bronlie’s amazement, they both saw Number Two smile.

For the second time in one day one of the brothers smiled.  What bothered Bronlie at that moment, was not the fact that it was a smile, but that it was a different smile from before.  The first smile was of comfort, of camaraderie.  This smile contained no sense of humor, unless it was the humor of the trickster who has played the ultimate part.

Patterson opened his mouth to command the boys again, but didn’t get a word out as a wooden block was throw from across the room by Number Seven.  It was the circle shaped block.  He must’ve picked it up when he set the star shaped block back down, Bronlie realized.

"Don’t you even think," Patterson said, but before he could continue, Number Three threw himself at Patterson’s legs.  Patterson crashed to the floor and the rest of the boys, except for Number Four fell on him, two to each limb and three on his torso.  They spread his arms and legs out like he was to be drawn and quartered.  He struggled to get away from the children, but they held him firmly.

Bronlie called for the Handlers to get in there, but even as he hung up the phone, Number Four ran to the Shape Station and arranged it, the Coloring Station, the Puzzle Station and bookshelf in a line across the room, so that the door through which Patterson had come couldn’t be opened.

Four had no sooner got the bookshelf in place, than the Handlers began banging on the door.  Number Four walked over to Patterson and stood next to his head.  Four looked around to the other boys in the room.  He cleared his throat and spoke.  "The room is ours!"

The boys cheered.

Number Four knelt by Patterson’s arm and said, "I am the Voice!  Look."

Patterson cried out in pain as Number Four bent over his exposed arm and bit into his flesh.  Blood pulsed from the veins in Patterson’s arms.  Four’s Company held on, but were paled by the act.  Four reached down and stuck his finger in a hole he had just made.  Patterson screamed.  Four drew the finger tipped in blood down the middle of this face then made one mark on the right side of his face.

The Handlers kicked at the door.  The line of station equipment shook, but held.  The computer beeped frantically. 

Number Four said, "Now, I am the Voice.  Do like me!"

All the boys holding Dr. Patterson fell on him, tearing his clothes back and biting him.  Patterson cried out as the boys pushed their fingers into the holes in his body, blood pulsing out.  They drew lines on their faces, but each of the boys that followed drew the line as if in a mirror, on their left instead of the right.

The computer stopped beeping and Bronlie, watching the blood pool around the white Velcro sneakers the boys wore, turned and threw up.  Behind him he heard Number Four say again, "I am the Voice!"

The Handlers shot their tazers and Number Four fell to the ground and began to shake.  Several of the other boys fell to the ground too, one eye on Number Four, twitching and writhing in time to his convulsions.

Bronlie wiped his mouth and stared at the picture of the boys.  He watched helplessly as the Handlers zip-tied each of the brothers’ hands behind their backs.  Behind him, distantly, he heard the door open.  The Handlers walked over to Patterson and checked his pulse.  He shook his head to another Handler standing over him.  The second Handler walked over to Number Four and kicked him in the ribs.  Bronlie reached for the intercom button.

"What are you doing?  Stop it!"  The Handler looked up at the speaker in the room and stopped.

Pain erupted on the back of Bronlie’s head.  He heard a dull thud as something struck the floor behind him.  When he looked down he saw the star shaped block.  Standing in the doorway was Number Two wearing Dr.  Patterson’s glasses.  Besides the blood smeared on Two’s face, a smeared bloody fingerprint obscured Two’s left eye.  He smiled for the third time that day, cleared his throat and spoke for the first time ever, "I am the Voice."