by Hanks, Greg
“Can we have some time to think about all of this?” I asked. Tara shot me a look. I felt she was happy with that response.
“Of course,” assured Vane. “Right now, it’s time to rest. Dodge, would you show them to Quarter?”
Dodge perked up and smiled, “Sure thing.”
“We’ll talk more later,” said Vane, and everyone started to gather themselves together.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” said Dodge, waiting at the other end of the raised platform. “Bollis’ll clean up.” He smiled at Bollis as we followed him down the short descent.
We made our way straight back to twenty-foot high blast doors. The main room was shaped like an octagon. Each individual side had an entrance to another room, guarded by similar doors.
“I’ll explain where everything is in a minute,” said Dodge, leading us into a brushed metal room. To our right was a fully equipped kitchen and dining area. Everything was sleek and modernized, supported by advanced technology. To our left was a near-empty bookcase, three sofas, a couple of armchairs, and a glass coffee table. The room continued onward, wrapping around like a giant C.
“This is Quarter. Down the hall are your living spaces. We’ve got bathrooms, extra bedding, and pretty much everything you’ll need.”
No one said a word. We were exhausted. He read our weary eyes and smirked.
“On second thought, why don’t we just have a tour of everything tomorrow? Get some rest.”
“Thank you,” said Tara.
Dodge smiled and left us alone in silence.
After admiring some of the fancy machinery and furnishings, we exploded into conversation.
“Are they out of their minds?” I seethed.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic-o!” said Justin. “I’m staying.”
I waived him away. “Good, stay!” I kept my attention on Tara.
“This sucks, I know,” she confirmed. “But what else can we do? I don’t want to die up there, Mark.”
“Who says we’re going to die? We did pretty good for ourselves without them.”
“Aren’t you forgetting how Bollis saved my life?” she countered.
“No—I . . .” I stopped and exhaled. “I don’t want to kill any more people, Tara. It’s destroying me.”
“Maybe we don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
Justin was checking out the fridge while we continued our debate.
“Maybe we could stay behind the lines,” she said. “Help them from here?”
I hesitated. “I don’t think they see it like that.”
Tara lowered her eyes and gave up. “I just don’t know where else to go, Mark. I think it’s time we started accepting what’s happening to us.”
My body shuddered from the Amorphate. I lost my balance and took a seat on the armrest of the couch.
“Are you okay?” she asked, rushing to my side.
I nodded. “I think it’s that stuff Bollis put in me.”
“Do you want me to grab him?”
I looked at the floor, shaking my head. The metal surface was spinning. I wanted to figure out why GenoTec was after us, but joining an uprising? I thought about the Collectors, the Turnmont explosion, the metal-heads, and Tara’s bullet wound. The volcanic fury within me wanted to take revenge, but my brain held up a firm hand. I was torn between fear and anger. Sitting in the middle of the two emotions wasn’t getting me anywhere.
I saw my sister, Savannah. Her green eyes spoke of disappointment. Why was I so set on going back to my old life? I had nothing to go back to. I had no one. Why was I being so adamant to preserve a life that didn’t exist? Sav nodded to me until I understood.
“Okay,” I decided, albeit a sickening verdict. “Let’s see what they have to say. Let’s ride this out.” I looked back to her ocean blue eyes. “You’re right. If we go back up, we’d be dead. If everything they say about GenoTec is true, then it’s not just our lives on the line, either.”
Instead of speaking, she grasped my hand. Both of us never—ever—saw something like this in our futures. A somber, almost depressing realization dawned upon us.
We had no other way out.
Justin coughed on a gulp of rummaged milk. “Smart move, Shin—I mean, smart move, Marky.”
I yawned and stood up. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.” I was sick of rolling down hills of questions. I just wanted to escape.
“Good idea,” said Tara.
The living spaces were divided into three sections, each containing three dormitories and one bathroom. Within each section, the rooms were partitioned off, leaving a generous space complete with a queen-sized bed, a desk stocked with various office supplies, a dresser, and a large glass screen mounted onto a swivel arm that could be brought above the bed.
The last section of beds was empty, so we decided to make camp there. While everyone was getting ready, I messed around with the interface module.
“Welcome, newcomer,” said a startling female voice. It came directly from the device. I touched “start” and the screen refreshed to its dashboard. “I am Aiya, the Underbed’s specialized Artificial Intelligence.”
“An AI?” I said aloud.
“Correct,” she spoke, like a finely tuned, crystal flute. “Most humans derive their knowledge of AI from movies or books. However, I am nothing more than an advanced computer, able to answer questions, present data, and provide support, security, and diagnoses to Genesis. I was created to help members of Genesis in any way possible. As a new member of Genesis, please register this device with your information, allowing me to better serve you.”
I sighed, wondering how to shut her off.
“Maybe another time, Aiya,” I said, pushing the device back into its corner.
“Of course,” she said, “Let me know how I can be of service.”
The module’s screen went black and I plopped myself onto my bed.
My body’s temperature was on the verge of boiling. I stretched, feeling pieces of me snap from within. I still couldn’t feel any pain from my ribs, and there were no signs of my Adrenoprene addiction resurfacing. I felt drowsy and heavy. It reminded me of a time when I returned home from a skiing trip—the aching, the sunburns, the sleepy sensation.
The bathroom door at the end of the section opened and Tara padded down the tiny corridor, passing my room. Her hair was wet and she was still wearing her orange tank top and blue jeans.
“I don’t think a shower has ever felt so good,” she sighed, leaning up against the threshold.
I smiled and brought myself to the edge of the bed.
“That sounds incredible.”
“How’re you feeling?” she asked.
“Good, I think. I don’t feel any pain.”
She paused, just staring at me. She slowly walked over and sat beside me.
“Remember when you told me everything was going to be okay?” she asked. Her presence was warm and aroused emotions within me.
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was one of those “feeling sorry for yourself” laughs. We both chuckled for a moment, reveling in how absurd the last few days had been. Then things went silent, and I remembered what had happened the last time we were side by side like this.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive myself,” I said. “For letting you get shot.”
She looked sympathetic and said, “It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself. It’s GenoTec.”
“What if I mess up again and someone dies?”
“Stop it, Mark,” she said, grabbing my drifting attention. “We’re in a safe place now, let’s let the past be the past.”
I sighed and immediately felt stupid, yet a little better. Tara was always good reinforcement. I was lucky to have her. Instead of trying to fight it, I just let it go. I could be mad at myself another time.
“This has all happened so fast,” she said. “It seems like a blur.”
I nodded in agreement. “We just have to stick together. I don
’t know how long we’re going to be here.”
“Yeah . . .” she mumbled.
It was quiet for a moment. At first I enjoyed the silence, but after a couple minutes, I wondered if I had said something wrong, so I looked up, and saw tears running down her face.
Fearing I had ruined the conversation, I sputtered, “I’m sorry, if I—”
“I don’t really want to do this, Mark,” she said through short breaths. She was embarrassed, and kept her head down. Hearing her cry like this consumed the attention of every brain cell I had left in me. The only problem was my incompetence with interactions.
“No one’s making you do anything, Tara,” I said. Ugh, that was a dumb remark. GenoTec was making us do this. We had no other option.
“I’m just . . . I’m just lost. I’ve tried to be strong, but . . . It’s just one thing after another. It’s never gonna end. I feel like I’m being stretched further and further apart.”
The awkward demon inside of me tried to hold me down, whispering in my ear, telling me I couldn’t say anything helpful. I wasn’t going to let it take over, though.
“Tara, listen to me,” I said, reaching over and turning her head toward me. “You’re not alone. You don’t have to be strong all the time. The only way we’re going to get through this is if we do it together.”
Her eyes blinked away tears and a strand of emotion began to form between us. For the first time, we were engaged in an intimate sphere. My heart started to race. Warm tendrils wiggled their way throughout my arms and legs. Our faces were so close; I could feel her breath on my lips.
I continued, “You’ve been the one who’s kept me going. Your words that night when we were first attacked—they’ve stayed with me this whole time. You were there for me. And now I’m here for you.”
After I spoke, her breaths became longer, and her tears stopped. The atmosphere between us was hot. We drew closer. I burst out of my cocoon, leaned in, and kissed her.
An intense heat arose in my chest, flowing to every corner of my body. Around me, the room changed colors, fluctuated temperature, and brightened as if we had been transported to the sun. It was complete sensory overload.
When we broke apart, our foreheads tilted against each other. Our breaths were the only things discernible. It was a moment I never wanted to end.
“Hey, do you guys have any—” Justin stood at the entrance. He wore a surprised look, which quickly turned to distaste.
“Eww! You guys are disgusting!” he said, making a nasty face. Then he squinted his eyes and leaned in. “You’re sleepin’ in separate rooms while I’m around.”
It made me sad to think what eleven-year-olds knew nowadays. Well, that one was a bit different, I guess.
Tara and I couldn’t help but laugh. The exhaustion, the lack of surety, the sheer grandeur of the path that lied before us, and now the unruly boy in front of us could only be expressed within a laugh. It was better that way.
“Are those . . . candy wrappers?” asked Tara with a smile.
Justin jerked his head down to his feet, where two chocolate bar wrappers had fallen out of his pocket.
“Ahhhh—well, whatever,” he replied, proceeding to take out five more and brandishing them to us. “Want some?”
Tara and I smiled and for the next hour, the three of us talked and munched on preserved chocolate.
30
When I awoke the next morning, I found myself strapped down to my bed by thick belts. An IV ran into my arm, and three empty stools stood around my bed. The interface module glowed beside me, detailing my vitals and unrecognizable data. I attempted to tighten my stomach to prop myself up. Nothing happened. The automatic idea of movement came back empty handed. I tried again, but I couldn’t move anything below my torso.
“Hello?!” I yelled, fearful of what may have happened. When no one answered, I used my arms to pull my body higher, revealing a thick, white bandage surrounding my belly. I poked my hip, but felt no sensation.
What the hell?!
“Mark?” said a woman’s voice.
I stopped prodding myself and looked up. The room was empty.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Um—I’m over here,” she said, and I turned to see the face of Celia displayed on the module screen. Her hair was wrapped into a bun that sprayed outward like a fountain.
“Why can’t I feel my legs?!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t worry,” she assured, “we had to fix you. It’s just the medicine. It will wear off in a few hours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mark, relax. You had two broken ribs. Other than the numbness, how are you feeling?”
That question was getting annoying.
“I’m fine,” I said, dropping my head back down upon my pillows.
“Good.” She looked down at something. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”
I turned my head. Celia was actually quite pretty, once I got a chance to get a good look.
“Mark . . . you were taking Adrenoprene, weren’t you?”
Great, did everyone know now?
“If I answer yes, does that mean I’m going to rehab?” I said.
She smirked. Life bloomed, emanating from her face. “Funny. But no. Bollis said you blacked out before you came to the Underbed. That was from your addiction, right?”
“Yes. I had an attack.”
“Well, I don’t know if this is any kind of comfort or not, but you also had a simultaneous Edge attack. That’s why it was so severe. Usually, you have to be off of Adrenoprene for a few weeks for it to completely incapacitate you like that. Even then . . .”
“Seriously?” I asked, completely taken aback. I hadn’t even thought about that.
“Seriously,” she repeated, adjusting her lenses. “The only thing keeping you from spraying blood everywhere was Vax. I just hope you weren’t planning on taking Adrenoprene any longer, because we’ve flushed it from your system.”
Like a melting ice cream bar, slathering itself over my chest, the burden I had carried for years slowly lifted.
“Actually . . . that’s a relief,” I said. “It’s really gone?”
“Well, not completely. But, as long as you take those pills on your dresser every week, you should be okay.”
I glanced over, and sure enough, a small, rectangular container stood atop the dresser.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Once you can start moving around, Vane wants to talk to you three.”
“Okay,” I said.
Celia paused. “You guys are pretty brave. We’re glad to have you here.”
“Th-Thanks.”
She said goodbye and the screen went back to my vitals. I relaxed my muscles and stared up at the ceiling.
Brave, huh? We’ll see, I guess.
After an hour passed, I began to feel sensation in my legs. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I had a chance to reflect. As if I hadn’t racked my brain enough. I concluded I wasn’t going to pass judgment on anything until I knew exactly what was going on. I was going to try to be calm about everything until I had the full story. I owed these people that much.
It was a wobbly morning, but once I unhooked the IV, I managed to get myself out of bed, shower, and get dressed without taking a fall. As I left Quarter, I made a mental note to ask Vane about some new clothes.
“Look who’s up and at ‘em,” said the goofy blonde, walking toward me after I stepped through the massive doors. His hair was particularly out of control today.
The giant room enveloped me once again, treating me to its salty atmosphere and prison-like walls. Celia was frivolously working at her station, using three computers at once.
“I’m definitely feeling a lot better,” I said, greeting him.
“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the door on the right side of the elevator. “Everyone’s waiting. You’ve probably still got a lot of questions.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, as
we walked by Celia’s station.
“It’s called Primary. It’s where we have our meetings. We’ve got breakfast, too.”
I followed him the rest of the way to the identical blast doors. They opened and introduced us to a fairly large, square room. Most of the space was taken up by a massive metal table, centered by a basketball-sized sphere resting on a triangular pedestal. Small shelves and boxes filled with miscellaneous junk covered the walls, defending their positions from two 70-inch screens. Surrounding the table were Tara, Justin, Vexin, Bollis, and Vane. Vane stood in the midst of talking with Vexin.
“Ah,” he said, smiling as we took our seats, “good to see you’re up and walking, Mark.”
I nodded and thanked him.
“Please,” he offered, “eat.” He gestured to the plate of dried fruit, powdered milk, and something that looked like oatmeal, steaming in a plastic bowl.
Justin leaned over to me and whispered, “It sucks!”
“I’ve gathered us together today to continue our discussion from last night,” began Vane, placing his hands on one of the plush chairs. “It’s a lot of information to swallow.”
He finished that statement just as I nearly gagged on the highly acidic mush. Justin was right.
“However, as much as I would like to sit down with you and try to explain everything, I have to be honest; it’s not going to happen. GenoTec is moving too fast. We need to act quickly if we are going to keep up with them.”
“Made up your minds yet?” came the first words from Vexin, caustic and hollow. It was a little bit startling to hear him speak, and I felt somewhat afraid as his eyes crucified me from across the table. I instantly felt hated.
“Well . . .” I said, looking to Tara, “we—uh—haven’t really—”
“Vexin,” chided Vane, “we’ll give them time to think it over. For now, let’s discuss what we’ve been up to for the last few years, shall we?”
Vexin took an impatient swig from his mug, and Vane petitioned Celia to bring something up on the large screen behind him. Justin twitched at the sight of Vexin’s drink and promptly asked if there was coffee to be had. I made eye contact with Bollis, who faintly smiled and shook his head, telling me to “forget it.” I was grateful for at least some comfort.
