Seneca Rebel (The Seneca Society Book 1)

by Rayya Deeb

  One of the great ironies was that Gregory was obliged to serve our project. Once a week he flew down to Claytor Lake to assist us and make sure we had everything we needed. He definitely bit his tongue a lot and did what he had to do, but I could tell it was torture for him. I wasn't into causing people discomfort, but there was a sweet satisfaction in seeing Gregory so alienated.

  Dom and I were given the privilege of naming the project. We decided to call it The Brooklyn Project both as homage to the New York City borough's "strength in unity" motto, and to the place where our own triumphant journey began.

  Our leader, Magnus, was a S.O.I.L. agent, fluent in both Operation Crystal and Necrolla Carne. He was an Albino Korean, with extremely light blue eyes, the color of purified water reflecting the LA sky and spiky blond hair. Impeccable blue S.O.I.L. attire covered his lean, five nine frame. We knew nothing about Magnus other than his first name, though, come to think of it, it could have been his last name. Oh, and that he was allergic to walnuts. He would track down people’s snacks like a bloodhound, to make sure there weren’t walnuts anywhere near him. It was like his kryptonite. Magnus disclosed everything about Necrolla Carne to us. Well, everything as far as we knew. Meanwhile, each of the fifteen hundred people that worked in the Claytor Lake computer district only knew the tidbit of information they needed to get their jobs done for the project.

  Dom and I set up in a domed room that overlooked the vast floor of data analysts and tech staff that worked at computer hubs. We were on the other side of the blue mirror now. I sat in front of a panel that displayed the mainframe data which I had remotely accessed and used to break my own entanglement. The entangled brain of every citizen of Seneca resided there. I know I said nothing could surprise me, but this glimpse into the utter enormity of Crystal proved me wrong.

  Our DNA categorized us all. To put it simply, we were grouped alongside those who were most similar to us genetically. Although we didn’t know it, the specifics of each of our DNA was the fundamental data that had been collected and tested prior to our offers to join Seneca. Elaborate DNA profiling was used to ensure that the entire population abided by the society’s regulations. It was how Seneca’s citizens were protected from disease, both physical and mental, and also how optimal procreation scenarios were projected. Basically, aside from being recruited on the basis of knowledge and skill, it came down to the science of who we were.

  On Monday we had gone through one huge lot of DNA profiles and removed the quantum entanglement that had been placed between the Seneca mainframe and their bloods. Nobody felt a thing. They wouldn't even realize that something had happened. It was the most rewarding experience of my life to pull the trigger and break each entanglement.

  On Wednesday we paced our way through the second group of DNA profiles. One by one, Dom pulled up data ports on each Senecan, and then passed them off to me to apply the quantum entanglement break code. We'd store the confirmation record and move on to the next one. Our routine became second nature.

  We were able to joke with each other and talk about other things in the midst of our work, nearly forgetting that it was a super confidential, technologically grand application. We grew closer and closer by the day, attached at the hip around the clock. If we weren't together, we were FigureFlexing. Yep, Dom and I had become one of those sickeningly cute couples.

  Something felt peculiar to me that Wednesday afternoon, though. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something in the air. It was kind of like that game where you’d feel a tap on the shoulder, but when you’d turn around to look, there’d be nothing there. I did notice, though, that Dom was staring at me all the time. The only time he’d look away was to double-check his work. I'd gone from trying my darnedest to get this guy's attention back in September, to December, when he wouldn't quit looking at me.

  "You know, it's not nice to stare."

  "Whoever said I was nice?"

  I poked him in the side. He hated that. Like I hated it when he would hold my legs down and tickle my feet. Really, I hated anything that had to do with feet. As our poke-and-tickle routine was going on, we didn't notice Magnus standing there with his arms crossed in a supreme look of displeasure. We both quickly straightened up, and got back to our computers.

  "Glad you guys are having so much fun. This isn't a serious operation or anything."

  "My apologies, Magnus, I just can't resist this girl. Can you blame me?" Dom was back. My confident, sarcastic, "blue combat boots," who wasn't intimidated by the authoritative set. He was so much more attractive this way. I couldn't wait until the end of today when we could hop on our private acoustic carrier ride for ten minutes alone together before going back to our separate residences.

  Magnus couldn't be bothered. He rolled his eyes, "Just get through the second batch of profiles and we'll call it a day." And he left the room.

  We shared a grin and got back down to business. It was quiet for all of fifteen minutes, just clicks and taps as the entanglements were dismantled, one by one.

  "Oh yeah, now that is one good looking genetic profile."

  I looked over. Dom was biting his bottom lip, looked at me deviously out of the corner of his eye.

  "What are you doing over there?"

  "Oh, just checking out some hot chick's DNA."

  I scanned outside the window to see if Magnus was around. "You're gonna get us in trouble!"

  "Worth it. Oooh lala."

  "Stop!" But I was curious. What was he doing?

  "You sure you want me to stop? I think you'll want to see this."

  "What!?"

  "You, lovely. You..."

  I double-checked to make sure Magnus wasn't watching, rolled my desk chair over to Dom's. He nodded up to the monitor that contained a DNA profile. It was mine.

  "You're into that sorta thing, aren't you? Bar graphs, charts?"

  "You know me so well." I checked out the data on me. My name, residential sector location and my DNA profile. It was all right there.

  "Sexy profile."

  I nudged him, "Thanks... I guess."

  "While we're here, we should cross our DNA profiles to make sure we're not related or anything," he joked. “What if we have an ancestor in common, like twenty generations ago? Don't you want to know?"

  "Gross. No. I don't even want the thought in my head!"

  And then Dom clicked down one profile below mine on the screen, "Whoa... take a look at that."

  "What?"

  He didn't answer. He just moved in closer to the monitor, his face glowing blue. From the look on Dom's face, I gathered something pretty astonishing was on that screen.

  "What? Tell me!"

  "This anonymous DNA profile... is a fifty percent match to you."

  "Huh?" I was completely bewildered, "That's impossible. Unless they already have my mom's data in here." There were only two people who could match me at exactly fifty percent. My heart rate started to climb.

  "Nope. Not your mom. The person with this DNA is in South America. Puerto Lopez, Colombia. And unless your mom is really a man..."

  "Dom, seriously, stop playing. This isn't funny."

  "Doro, I'm not playing."

  "This is impossible. That could only be..." My eyes widened, stomach dropped. My heart plunged into my throat.

  "My dad."

  Acknowledgements

  My hubby, Aaron. Our steamy late night science talks, your unwavering support of my dreams, and enthusiasm for Seneca helped me write something I am deeply proud of. I literally could not have done it without you. I am so grateful. I love you. p.s. By “late night,” I mean 9pm.

  My mom. You’ve gone above and beyond in so many ways. I love you and can’t thank you enough for helping with our girls, bringing positivity into our home and reading my pages over and over again. But especially for always nurturing my unfiltered curiosity.

  My agent, Chris Tomasino. You believed in Seneca to no end and invested so much time and knowledge into shaping this book into wha
t it is. Thank you for everything.

  Seneca Rebel’s cover designer, Miss Anonymous. It’s a special thing that my art and yours will live together forever in harmony. Thank you for your vision and having fun with this.

  Michael Shields, Chris Thompson & Across the Margin, you’ve jumped into this like a cannonball into the pool and have rocked it since day one.

  No Mimes Media, Behnam Karbassi & Steve Peters. This whole beyond-the-page Senecan experience wouldn’t be without your energy and bright ideas.

  Mark Gamsey, Sara Rassi & Chris Prosser for your bringing your stunning photography into the Seneca mix.

  A special thanks to my peeps who have championed me since well before Seneca— M. Lee, Charlotte, Magnus. All my friends who read Seneca Rebel when it was fresh on the page to offer opinions, guidance and support— Brittany Beale, Katana Collins, Claudette Sutherland, Anika, Jeanne & Staci Hart. My sisters Zeena & Serena, for each contributing in your own ways.

  And my world class, one-of-a-kind, constant group text— Katie, Chrissy & Christina, for keeping it real and brightening my days.

  My sweet pit bull Athena passed away shortly before this book went to print. For nine-and-a-half years she was right by my side when I was writing. I am extremely fortunate to have had such a loving, loyal companion in my life. I will miss her forever.

  I have had the privilege of learning from some seriously outstanding teachers over the years— from Hunter Mill Country Day School to Oakton Elementary to Luther Jackson Middle School to Oakton High School and Virginia Tech. Many individuals who dedicated themselves to educating have had a profound effect on me, and hopefully that is echoed in these pages.

  Every single person that reads this book, I am honored you have given your time to such an important part of me. Until next time, stay curious.

  Rayya Deeb is a screenwriter and Virginia Tech Hokie, born in London, England and raised in Northern Virginia. Seneca Rebel is her debut novel. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters. Visit her at www.rayyadeeb.com