His eyes dilate as he falls back against the chair, struggling to free himself with his good hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” he screams, spittle dancing on his lower lip.
I take a seat beside him and flash him a scathing smile. “Disbanding the Inner Ring military for starters. Then there’s the redistribution of Inner Ring property, abolition of indentureship, migration reform for non-citizens and gypsies, among other pressing Guerrilla matters to attend to.”
His face pales. “Are you insane? The chip can only be activated by my DNA.”
I grin as I pluck a berry from the bowl and survey it from all angles.
“Exactly!” I pop the berry into his mouth and squeeze his lips together as he struggles to spit it out. “Your DNA. The only thing you ever gave me.”
I see it on his dying face. That moment when it all comes together and he knows.
I’m his bastard daughter.
—ABOUT THE AUTHOR—
Norma Hinkens writes Pretty Gritty YA at a pace that will leave you slack-jawed! Travel junkie, legend lover, idea wrangler, she grew up among rich storytelling traditions in her native Ireland, land of make-believe and the original little green man. If you like dystopian sagas, gritty heroines, and twists you won’t see coming, then you’ll love her turbo-paced thrill-rides! Read the first book in her award-winning Undergrounders series for FREE!
www.normahinkens.com/immurement-reader-bonus
HUMANITY’S PROTECTOR
David R. Bernstein
I remember the President’s exact words after the discovery of Push abilities a few years back. “Manipulating our collective consciousness is a threat to the Constitution. The responsibility to keep reality our own is my job, not corporate America’s.” It was February 5th, 2021. Ever since then the government has done a poor job of regulating the abilities of people like me.
My current employer, VeRx Corp., doesn’t think so. They don’t have to listen when they’ve acquired the most talented Influencers, as they’ve named us. Any regulators that come close would be helpless. The corporation justifies it as a way to keep the shareholders happy. What’s funny is these shareholders actually think they have a say in the company’s future.
I believe there are twenty of us who work for VeRx, but we’ve never seen each other. They don’t want us co-mingling and getting any ideas. It would only take a few of us, working together, to shift the company’s priorities. Whoever sits up top doesn’t even let us know who supervises us. We just receive fat paychecks and emails with operational goals. I assume each Influencer’s orders are different. How else would they know if we are actually doing our job?
The red icon in the lower corner of my screen flashes. There’s a new message from my supervisor. I twirl my deep brown hair, intensifying the natural curls. Nerves have crept to the surface. These emails always make my heart race. Relax, Leeyah, relax. Reclining in the stiff chair, I rest my head back. Looking over the tiny, lifeless office space, I try to find something to distract me for a few more seconds. The room is empty of personality. Each morning, I’m scanned at the entrance to prevent personalized items from entering the office. Having a co-worker would make this job more bearable, but that will never happen. Instead, we are forced to work alone out of these cramped satellite offices that are spread all over the country.
Pulling on the thin, tethered display, I bring the adjustable arm closer. With one tap in the top corner of the screen the message box opens. I exhale slowly before reading today’s assignment.
Employee #143024-SDCA,
Corporate headquarters has identified two objectives for you today. This email will be deleted once the message box is closed or if your device becomes idle. Carefully read all details before closing out.
Assignment #1: In preparation for our IdealGene™ drug launch, we need you to increase VeRx Corp. positive outlook metrics in your designated area. Shift the mindset to an accepting viewpoint toward the drug’s applications listed below:
● Elimination of flawed vanity genes through modification
● Prenatal Gender Selection
Assignment #2: Disrupt the radical viewpoints of the obstructive group called ‘Humanity’s Protectors’. Amplify mistrust and humiliation against its members from within your designated community zone. Opposition to our new drug cannot be allowed to continue.
As always, you can briefly communicate with your support agent through the one-time chat system. All communications are monitored. Keep all inquiries brief and only related to the assignments.
I don’t understand. They want me to ‘amplify mistrust and humiliation’? Pushing back from the desk, my chair rolls for a few feet before the casters ease to a stop against the rear wall. I’ve never seen an assignment like this before. Everything has been simple and focused on using my ability for positive manipulation. I’ve made peace with changing the mood of unwitting people, but I can’t do this. I know you aren’t supposed to turn down assignments, but my new targets aren’t potential consumers being steered toward a better product. They appear to be protesters standing up for what they believe in.
With the heels of my feet, I drag myself back to the work station. The message has expired and been removed from my device. Luckily, I have a photographic memory. Not that I really want to memorize this assignment. I keep telling myself that I’m just sixteen and I should be lucky to have this ability and make money from it. Being an Influencer hasn’t enhanced my life much. The company protects our identities so aggressively that we don’t really have a life anymore. My parents told everyone that I’ve moved to attend an out-of-state school. Even they couldn’t resist the additional money the company gives them each month to continue my employment. I really miss my friends in my home state of Washington. Don’t get me wrong, the weather is amazing here in San Diego, but the natural beauty where I lived is breathtaking. It’s been six months since I moved and every day becomes harder.
The chat window is counting down on my screen. I only have thirty seconds left to use the support channel. What do I even say to them? Twenty seconds. This isn’t what I signed up for. Ten seconds. I won’t ignore this.
I tap the button with a few seconds to spare. A new box opens in the left corner of my dashboard. A cycling icon pulses as I wait for my support agent.
Support Agent #0178: Thumbprint, please.
A new window opens prompting me to place my thumb on it for identification. I align my right thumb to the screen. A flickering flash halos around it. “Identity Confirmed” reads across the top before the 3D camera on the device activates and scans the room for unauthorized personnel. Squinting, I shift my gaze down to avoid the intense green light. Just a moment later the camera deactivates. The pit of my stomach tightens as I look back to the screen.
Support Agent #1078: How can I improve your performance?
“I don’t want you to improve my performance,” I say out loud.
I watch as a new counter ticks down waiting for my response. I have forty-five seconds to write something before the session is closed out. Can this get any more annoying?
Employee #143024-SDCA: Hi, how are you today?
System Override: Personal questions are prohibited.
Support Agent #1078: How can I improve your performance?
“Fine, be that way!” I don’t care how this stranger is doing anyway. Well, if I’m being honest with myself, I kind of do care. It’s like the co-worker I’ll never have. Thirty seconds. Oh crap, just type something, Leeyah.
Employee #143024-SDCA: Who are the ‘Humanity’s Protectors’?
A flashing cursor blinks as I wait for a response.
Support Agent #1078: They are your target for today’s assignment. Is there anything I can do to assist you?
“Ummmm, yeah!” I stiffen in my chair before rushing my hands back to the keyboard.
Employee #143024-SDCA: Don’t you think I need to know a little more to help shape my Push?
Support Agent #1078: Please wait.
Rising to my feet, I pace the entire room. Five steps one way and five steps back is all it takes. My sight never leaves the screen. A new message pops up and I rush back to my chair.
Support Agent #1078: Humanity’s Protectors is a radical group formed to slow scientific progress. There is a rally being held today near your location. With them all in one place, you should have an easier time shaping the entire group.
Push out feelings of fear and thoughts of helplessness. We want the group to break apart and give up on their ideals.
Is there anything else?
My head drops into my hands as I pin my elbows to the desk. They want me to erase the group’s hope and bury their freedom. The VeRx Influencer manual and training videos never mentioned this when I was hired. Twenty seconds. Ugh, stupid counter.
Employee #143024-SDCA: I’m not comfortable with this assignment.
I can swear the blinking cursor slows as I anxiously wait.
Support Agent #1078: Are you refusing to perform your required assignments?
This is too much. The soft blue glow of the display pulsates as I think of a response. Thirty seconds. It’s time for me to go home to my family. Twenty seconds.
Employee #143024-SDCA: Yes, I won’t do that.
System Override: System Locked. Stand By.
“What the hell is that?” I say. A sliding sound followed by a heavy click from my office door brings me to my feet. I straighten my top for a moment. Clenching my hands, they fall to my sides. “Hello?” I call out.
My display fades to black and the room’s lights brighten to an uncomfortable level. Squinting, I raise my hands to shield my eyes. It’s quiet; all I hear is my quick breathing.
Moments pass before I get the courage to check the door. Dragging my feet, I inch closer. An inner coolness lines my chest as the fear builds. I reach out for the handle when the sliding sound returns followed by another loud click. I jump back a step. The smooth and featureless white door pops a few inches out toward the hall. I take another step back.
“Remain calm,” a deep voice insists.
Dark-gloved fingers grab the outer edge of the door, slowly pulling it open.
“What’s going on?” My voice shakes.
The opening widens and a tall man walks in wearing all dark dress clothes and pitch-black sunglasses that counter the brightened lights. His palms face out as he carefully approaches me. Then I see a silver pistol strapped to his waist.
“Whoa, who are you?” I ask while turning to my side. “What’s going on?”
“Corporate alerted me to your situation,” he says. “I need you to come with me.”
“My situation?”
“You don’t think we have protocols in place for when assets malfunction?” He creeps forward.
Asset? He makes me sound like I’m no more important than my computer or some other piece of equipment. This isn’t good. Whoever this is, he’s not here to give me a verbal warning or to write me up. Fidgeting with the ends of my hair, I swallow over and over hoping it might push my fear down. I need to run, but he’s blocking the only exit.
“I just want to go home,” I plead.
“So sorry, but if you freaks don’t do what you are told, you lose your welcome with our organization,” he says. “And we can’t have you recruited by one of our competitors, can we?” A spite-filled grin overtakes his mug.
He pulls the weapon from its holster and clasps it with both hands. The gun is locked on me. The intensity of the lights blends the office walls together, making it hard to orient myself. There’s no way out; I’m boxed in.
“I’m not going to work for any corporation again,” I beg. “I just want to be a normal kid.”
“You took our money and know too much about us, kid. Come with me now.”
This office has nothing to use as a weapon, no loose objects of any kind—nothing. It’s time to move. I inhale deeply hoping to ignite some bravery when suddenly the man moves the barrel of the gun off me and up into the air. A blank look fills his face. It’s like someone pushed the pause button on him. The lights dim to their normal levels and I rub my eyes to get some moisture flowing again. Stretching my neck to the side, I look past him at the door. It’s still open. Squeezing past him, my arm slightly brushes against his side. A slight gasp escapes me. There’s still no change in his stance. My left leg makes it around him as I rush out the door and into the hall. Not wanting to wake the gunmen from his frozen state, I quietly close the door behind me. Stopping for a moment to think of what to do next, I feel a blast vibrate from within the office. I crash to the ground from the sound. There’s a thud from what must be the man falling to the floor. I cup my mouth and gasp at the thought of what happened in there. This doesn’t make sense. I can’t sit still, but I’m unable to get up either.
Several heavy footsteps from down the windowless hall break me from my panic. I peer up to find three boys no older than me strutting toward me with a purpose.
I scuttle back against the wall next to the office door. My heart is ripping from my chest.
“Hi there, Leeyah,” the boy in the middle says with an eager, higher-pitched voice.
My eyes lock on them as they stand a few feet in front of me. Words escape me as confusion invades my mind.
“My name is Sam and you’ve just joined Humanity’s Protectors,” the boy says, almost amused. “Let’s keep this short before VeRx sends more guards.” He extends a hand to me. “Your family is most likely dead and you don’t exist anymore. All of your records have been wiped clean. It’s time to go.”
“I… I don’t understand. My family is dead?” Panic fills my voice. “What do you mean? What… what happened in that office?” I point at the door that once led to my work station.
“Again, we don’t have time to answer this now,” Sam says. “Take my hand and let’s go, NOW.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A taller guy with purple hair and piercings folds his arms and says, “Fine, wait for the next friendly VeRx guard. Can we go now, Sam?”
“Relax, Eli.”
Sam reaches down farther, nearly grabbing my hand this time. I pull back as a loud alarm starts to echo through the building. Jolted by the intense sound, I force myself off the floor and lean against the wall.
“Last chance. We need to move,” Sam insists.
Even though I’m not sure what’s going on, I nod to him, hunching my shoulders. He returns the nod and points toward the back exit. The four of us run to the glass doors. Several yards before we reach the exit, we’re stopped in our tracks. Two armed men force open the doors, pointing their rifles at us. Sam puts an arm across my chest to shield me. Why is he protecting me? The piercing alarm makes it hard to think.
“Don’t take another step,” shouts one of the guards. They look like they’re wearing riot gear. Dark, sturdy plating covers their chests and limbs. A helmet with tinted eye protection prevents me from reading their faces.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Eli raise both hands to his temples. Loud cracks penetrate through the cycling alarm. Pelted with several bullets, Eli slams to the sidewall. Blood smears the white surface as he slides to the ground. He’s not moving.
“NO,” screams the other boy standing beside me.
He tries to rush to Eli’s body, but Sam stops him with his free hand. “Wade, stop, he’s gone.”
Wade keeps his sights on Eli for a few seconds before turning to Sam. “You don’t feel him anymore?”
“Sorry, man, he’s gone.”
How does he know this? What did he mean when he said he can’t feel Eli anymore? Sam didn’t even touch him.
“I said don’t move,” the guard orders. “Unless you want to be next.”
Shaking now, Wade returns to my side. His anger is boiling to the surface.
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” I cry out to the guard. “I just want to go home.”
The other guard trains his gun on me, stepping forward.
“Lieutenant, let me handle this.”
“You got it, Captain.” The lieutenant who killed Eli steps to the side, locking his weapon on Sam and Wade.
“What’s going on here, Ms. Newton, is that your purple-headed friend was going to use his push on us.”
This isn’t making any sense. This guy is saying that one of these boys can instantly affect another person with his ability. They shot Eli because they were afraid for their own safety. Did one of these boys kill that man in my office?
Annoyed by the penetrating alarm sound, the captain pulls a remote from his pocket and clicks it. The alarm shuts off. “Ah, that’s better,” he says.
“Please just let me go,” I say. “I’m not with them. I just want my parents.”
“You don’t have parents anymore,” the captain says, putting the remote back in his pocket. “They were purged from the system the moment you declined your assignment.”
Sam looks down at me, knowing what he had told me earlier is now confirmed. He whispers, “I’m sorry.”
My eyes widen as shock enters my body. My jaw drops open as my bottom lip quivers. Tears well up to the surface before spilling down my cheek. This can’t be true.
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 22
