Variant

by T. C. Edge

  "Becca, stay calm, OK," I said. "It's just a drug. It will pass."

  Her eyes stared up at me, and then, suddenly, she vomited violently onto the floor at her feet. It came in several bursts, ending in dry heaves, and then the froth began to rise, building in the corners of her mouth. She sat back up in her chair, still trembling, as her eyes started to roll in and go white.

  "Becca. Becca!" I panicked. "No, stay with me!"

  My words came wildly now as she fell into convulsions and then collapsed onto the floor, dropping into her own vomit. I fell to my knees in terror and turned her over into the recovery position, making sure her airways were clear.

  My eyes tore up to one of the secret cameras, hidden within the wall.

  "Ford, Ford if you're seeing this, come help!" I called out, crying. "Please, help me. Please..."

  Slowly, she began to relax, her body falling still. She lay in a heap on the floor, her chest pulsing up and down as her lungs fought for air, limbs occasionally twitching like a dog having a bad dream.

  I felt for her heart-rate. Her pulse had stopped climbing, but continued to beat at a rapid pace. My eyes looked again at the camera, streaming tears as I crouched over my best friend.

  "Please, Ford. I need help. Please, if you're hearing this..."

  I stopped, and dipped my chin. I could hear my whimpering voice and words, but this was all my fault. I had no idea if he was watching, no idea if he'd come. I looked to the screen, desperately hoping to see a message appear.

  I'm coming, Paige, it would read. Hold on, everything will be all right.

  I saw no such message appear, and I knew I couldn't wait. I had a choice to make now - run and get a doctor, or head for the only place I knew where Ford might be. The only place I might get help.

  In the end, it wasn't a choice at all. I couldn't get a doctor, not without exposing us all. I had to take action, and I had to do it now.

  I quickly restored the workstation to its bed-setting, and pulled Becca up onto it. She continued to twitch, her breathing and heart-rate rapid. I grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her, and then stepped to the door.

  "I'm so sorry, Becs," I said to her, wiping a tear from my eye. "I'll be back soon, I promise. I'm going to go and get help."

  I rushed out into the night at that, heading first for my apartment block. I had a way to go, and knew I couldn't leave her alone. I ran inside the building, and straight for my mother's unit.

  I knocked hard. The door opened a few moments later.

  "Paige?" my mother said, looking at me anxiously. "Whatever's the matter, darling? What's happened?"

  "B-Becca," I said, my voice trembling. "I...she's poisoned. I need to go somewhere and get help, mum. I need you to watch over her while I'm gone."

  There was no rebuke, no time for questions. She nodded immediately, then grabbed her coat from the door. "Where is she?"

  "A unit, just around the corner. I'll take you there..."

  "No, it doesn't look like you have the time. Tell me where, and I'll go see to her."

  She took on a composed manner, calm and direct. Her hands came down on my shoulders to help relax me. Through trembling lips, I told her where to go. She nodded and stepped out of the unit, locking the door behind her.

  "I'll see to Rebecca. You go and get help," she said.

  My head trembled as I nodded once more.

  "And darling," she whispered softly. "It's all going to be OK."

  It was a woman I'd never really known. The woman who lived among the VLA, who once took crisis in her stride. It was the perfect time to meet her.

  I rushed away at that, out into the night, heading right for the Bends.

  25

  I panted hard as I pressed on into the slums, hidden within my trench coat that had protected my identity as I'd rushed eastward across Southbank.

  I had little time to worry about avoiding the cameras through the streets, and had used my Variant speed as I went. When I neared the Bends, however, I made sure to slow enough to scramble any cameras nearby so my destination couldn't be traced. I entered the slums unseen, and untracked. It wasn't without risk, but I had no choice.

  The slums were dark as I moved inside, the tightly wound streets making it hard to determine where I was. To call them streets was an overstatement, the tents and shacks and husks of cars providing shelter for people wherever they lay, the entire area a haphazard mess of shanties.

  I searched for taller buildings of brick and stone, dotted here and there. Within the gloom and hanging fog they weren't easy to spot until I got close, shadows rising higher than the huts and hovels around them. I came upon a couple, but they weren't right. It took me a further ten minutes of searching before my eyes spotted that big, metal door, with the window slit cut into its surface.

  I rushed right at it, glancing my eyes to the left and right. My hand bunched to a fist, banging, the sound swallowed up by the murky gloom nearby.

  I knocked several times before the slit in the door slid open. A pair of dark eyes stared through from the dim light beyond.

  "Lenny...Lenny," I breathed. "It's me, Paige. I need help. Is Ford here? Please tell me he's here..."

  His eyes didn't change. They just continued to stare.

  "Cold tonight, is it?" he asked me.

  I frowned. "Lenny, come on, just let me in. Don't you remember me? I came here less than two weeks ago."

  His eyes still didn't change. They didn't even seem to blink.

  "Cold tonight, is it?"

  I grunted and shook my head, exasperated. I had to take a second to remember what Ford had said when we came here before. The memory rose in my head, clear as day.

  I looked Lenny directly in the eye and spoke.

  "Yes, it's bloody freezing," I said, quoting Ford verbatim. "Cold enough to freeze the Controller's nuts off. That close enough?"

  Now, Lenny's eyes did change. They raised just a little. "That isn't the password," he said.

  "Yeah, I get that," I returned, my voice growing a little louder. "But it's what Ford said before, and I don't know exactly what the password is. Stop being a goddamn stickler and open the door! This is an emergency!"

  I puffed out a breath, which clouded in the cold air ahead of me. His eyes moved swiftly left and right. I was probably making a bit too much noise, and that's what sealed the deal.

  I heard the bolt scrape as the door was pulled open, and darted right into the open hallway beyond. Lenny shut the door quickly and then looked me carefully up and down, as if to confirm it was definitely me.

  "He isn't here," he then said. "Why have you come here looking for him?"

  I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists in frustration. I'd hoped Ford would be here, but Lenny was probably the next best thing. After all, Rest-Less was synthesised from his blood. He might know what to do.

  "My friend," I said, still panting a little. "She...she took some Rest-Less accidentally. I don't know what happened. She started shaking and threw up, and then passed out. She was convulsing, frothing at the mouth. I...I'm afraid she might die."

  He nodded slowly, his dark brown eyes narrowing. A few extra wrinkles gathered around them. "This girl. She isn't a Variant?"

  I shook my head.

  "How old is she? How much Rest-Less did she take?"

  "She's seventeen. Took a couple of swigs of my water. I'd mixed in the normal amount. About a teaspoon."

  He nodded again. "Is she strong? Is she physically fit?"

  "I...yeah, I guess. She runs a lot. She keeps active." I stared at him, pleading. "Is she going to be all right?"

  "That is hard to tell. Non-Variants aren't meant to take Rest-Less, and cases where they have are rare. They are prone to having bad reactions. They don't have the durability to handle its potency."

  "So...what should I do?" I asked quickly. "It's made from your blood, right? You must know how to counter its effects?"

  "There is no real way to counter it's effects, except to ride it out."
<
br />   "Can you come?" I breathed. "Can you come see her, see that she's all right?"

  He shook his head. "I cannot leave my post. I must return to the security room below immediately."

  "But..."

  "I am sorry, Paige, but I am sworn to stay here. I cannot come with you."

  "But I can..."

  The voice came from down the hall, thick and deep, cleanly annunciated. I turned to find a man of middle age approaching, tall and broad at the shoulders, his grey hair trimmed short and neatly cut, his grey-stubbled jaw cast from stone. He wore dark, rugged clothing, and an overcoat with a hood. I spotted the suggestion of a holster and pistol at his hip.

  Before he even told me who he was, I knew.

  "I will accompany the girl home," the man said. "Return to your post, Lenny. I will handle this."

  "If you're sure, Carson," Lenny said. "This is your son's doing, you know."

  Carson nodded. "I know. That is why I must go."

  Lenny looked at me a final time and then departed down the stone steps. The air hung thick and heavy as I stood alone with Ford's father.

  "It's...nice to meet you, Mr Carson," I said, my voice breaking with nerves. "I've heard a lot about you."

  He looked at me sternly, his eyes a little darker than Ford's, possessing a more profound intensity. "Likewise, Paige," he said, "but let's leave any further pleasantries for later."

  I nodded a single time and dipped my eyes. He had a presence that somehow wilted me.

  "Now, you have a friend who has taken some Rest-Less?" he asked. "A non-Variant?"

  "Y-yes."

  "My son didn't tell you not to allow non-Variants to take it?"

  I shook my head. "He...he never said."

  "No, another slip of the mind," he said, his voice dropping low in disappointment. He turned his eyes to the door. "She's over in your district?"

  "In the safe-house you set up for me," I said hastily.

  "And you came right here, after she collapsed?"

  "Pretty much right after," I said. "I didn't think it was wise to get a normal doctor to check her. This was the only place I could think of. I was careful coming here, I promise. I covered myself and no cameras saw where I was heading, I made sure of that. I'm sorry, Mr Carson. I didn't want to..."

  "It's fine, Paige," he said, cutting me off. "You did the right thing coming here. But we shouldn't delay." He looked at me again. I saw just the hint of a smile in his eyes. "Are you up for a run?"

  I nodded. "Of course."

  "Then by all means, lead the way."

  26

  The journey back to the safe-house didn't take long. We hid ourselves and ran, giving any custodian patrols a wide berth, avoiding the Skytube stations and livelier districts of Southbank that hugged the border with the Westbends.

  Only when we drew nearer to my district in Southbank did we slow down and begin to scramble the cameras so we couldn't be tracked. Carson worked with a similar efficiency as his son, and looked so much like him too. He had a direct manner that I imagined could be difficult growing up under. I could see how it must have been hard for Ford, trying to emulate this man, trying to live up to him.

  It was well past curfew by the time we returned, the streets now clear of people. Above my apartment unit, the Skytube works had finally finished, and the air was still and calm. We moved through the nightly mists, avoiding the glow of the street lamps, pressing quickly towards the safe-house. It didn't really dawn on me until we entered, and knocked on the door, that a reunion was about to take place.

  "Mum," I said, hissing low as I knocked. "Mum, it's me, open up."

  I noticed Carson looking at me, his eyes lifting a little. "Your mother is here?" he whispered.

  I nodded. "I asked her to watch over Becca. I guess I should have said."

  The door clicked and opened up, as my mother's concerned face came into view. I looked right at the bed, where Becca was tucked up under the blankets. "How's she doing?" I asked hastily, as Carson stepped in behind me.

  My mother glanced at him curiously as she shut and locked the door. "She's...holding on," she said. "She's being having hot and cold sweats, shivering a lot. And mumbling in her sleep." Her eyes went again to Carson, narrowing. "Do I...know you?" she asked. "You look very familiar."

  He turned to her fully, pulling down his hood and revealing his face. "Hello, Patricia," he said. "It's been a long time."

  My mother's eyes narrowed a little as she took him in. "Carson," she said, her voice deepening. "I thought it might be you." She lifted her chin, looking up to his not-inconsiderable height. "Not enough that your son is turning my daughter's head?" she said, her voice taking on an accusatory tone. "Now you're here too..."

  "Mother," I said harshly, glaring at her. "Stop it. He's only here to help."

  "No, it's OK, Paige," Carson said calmly, raising a meaty hand. "Your mother has every right to be angry. She only wants to protect you, that's all."

  "Yes, and we've been through that, haven't we, mother." I glared at her. "I'm choosing to help the VLA of my own volition. She's already accepted that it's OK."

  "The evidence would suggest the contrary," said Carson, "and that's perfectly understandable." He turned his eyes to the bed. "But let's not travel down that path just yet. It seems there are more pressing matters to attend to."

  He stepped over towards Becca, as my mother hung back. I grabbed her arm. "What was that?" I hissed. "Why all the hostility?"

  "You know why, Paige, don't play dumb," she said, clearly quite strained from the night's proceedings. "Ford didn't just come by and recruit you from nowhere. His father will have put him up to it, along with Harkin. They were never supposed to try to bring you in." She huffed to herself, shaking her head. "I made them all promise that when I left all those years ago."

  "What?" I asked, surprised. "You never told me about that."

  "There was no point," she said. "You wouldn't have listened to me anyway."

  "But when we spoke about Carson before, you hardly seemed to know who he was. Now, all of this." I looked at her questioningly. "Is there anything else you're not telling me?"

  "Nothing that matters," she grunted. "At least, not anymore. I was always fighting a losing battle with you. I guess I have to accept that now."

  "Well then do it, and stop causing trouble," I said, growing tired of her capricious nature. "You said you'd support me, so support me."

  She drew a sharp breath. "I am supporting you," she said. "I'm here, aren't I, and after curfew. I'm already being drawn in, I can see it. It's just the same as before."

  "Before? What do you mean, before?"

  "With your father," she said. "I never wanted to live among the VLA, but I had no choice with him. And now, it looks like the same's happening all over again. I just...I don't think I have the energy for it anymore."

  "Mum, nothing's happening." I softened my expression and voice. There was no point in pushing her at a time like this. We were all under enough strain as it was. "It's fine. You still have your life."

  "No, I don't, Paige," she said, shaking her head. "I know how these things go. Soon enough, you'll be drawn right in, and both Rebecca and I will be forced to follow."

  "Only if she survives," I said sombrely, turning to look at the bed, where Carson was already at work. He seemed to be performing a quick diagnosis, looking into her unconscious eyes, feeling at her pulse, listening to her breathing. "Can we just...leave this for now."

  I moved over and joined him, though gave him plenty of room to work.

  "Is she...is she going to be all right?" I asked softly. She looked pale, but wasn't shaking any longer, at least not like she was. She had a grimace on her face, and was trembling lightly. Her forehead was beading with sweat.

  "She should be fine," he said, turning to me. He had a calm expression on his face, no trouble in his eyes. "It looks like she's through the worst of it now."

  I breathed out heavily, and turned to my mother with a smile. "Tha
nk you, mum," I whispered to her. "Thank you."

  Then I looked back at Ford's father and repeated the sentiment. "Thank you, Mr Carson," I said to him sincerely. "Thank you for agreeing to come so quickly."

  "That's quite all right, Paige. I haven't done anything, really. She's tough, your friend. She has a strong constitution."

  I smiled as I looked down at her, her hair all wet and face all shiny with sweat. She looked in great distress, but his words put me at ease. I took another long, steadying breath.

  This was all my fault. She could have died because of my carelessness...

  "Will she be OK to go to work tomorrow?" I asked, looking at the clock. It wasn't too late yet, so she had plenty of time to rest. If not we'd have to get the doctor involved.

  "She should be well enough after a decent sleep. Ideally, she'd have a day off, but I can see how that might be problematic." He scratched his chin, thinking. "Just keep an eye on her, and check her in the morning. If she can't work, then bring in the doctor and tell him she had a bad reaction to something she ate. That's usually good enough for a one or two day excuse. Her symptoms will resemble food poisoning, so it shouldn't be an issue so long as her record is clean."

  "OK," I said, nodding.

  "I would imagine she'll be OK, though," he continued. He looked to the wet patch on the floor, where my mother had cleaned up Becca's vomit. An odour still hung in the air. "Seems like she threw some of it up, so hopefully the effects will be mild. Either way, my son really should have known better. He should have warned you at the outset that this drug wasn't suitable for non-Variants. His oversight could have led to tragedy, and not for the first time."

  "I...I can't blame Ford, not really," I said quietly, not willing to let him be condemned for my own blunder. "I left my water bottle out. It was my fault, Mr Carson, not his."

  "Yes, but you wouldn't have done so if you'd have known of the risks." He shook his head, resolute in his thinking. "Ford's dependency on Rest-Less should not be passed down to you, Paige. I trust you have only used it sparingly?"