Cease, and it would be over. Cease, and peace would be on him.
No more suffering. No more hurt.
No more, period.
He could rest. Finally.
All his life, he’d gone from one disaster to another. He’d seen those around him die, seen them suffer. Watched them break down. And after all of that, here he was imprisoned in his own body. Life was hardly fair. In fact, it was vindictive.
He often wondered what he had done in a previous life, if there were such a thing. He often wondered what the point of continuing to live would be with such suffering. It made no logical sense. Death was a prime option. Why suffer? Why live a miserable life?
He couldn’t answer that. At least not with anything that made sense, not to his little mind.
But, live, he did.
He continued, and didn’t know why.
The night appeared to be endless. He imagined Cali sitting by his side, watching him fade. Perhaps it was best if he stopped this madness. She could let go of him, finally. Stop taking care of him.
Face her demons on her own.
He didn’t want to do that. She needed him. But if she could look inside him, if she could see the night, even she would tell him to let go.
Let go.
Let go.
And the ceaseless night brought him to the brink, where he loaded the thought-command to cease. He placed it in his mind. He felt the new breeds hesitate, sensing it. All he had to do was confirm it as a purposeful directive and they would stop. The organs would fail. His brain would fade.
And Nix would rest.
He could find peace.
BrrrrrrrrrTHG.
Something engaged.
A switch was thrown. Followed by—
MmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMM.
A whine.
A thrum.
Light.
Warmth flooded his consciousness, trickling through streaks of pain, taking away the sparks and bites and stings and pressure…
It went away.
Disappeared.
She did it. She activated all the biomites!
Nix felt as if he was smiling, even though his body lay as still as death. Inside, he smiled. Inside, he basked in the glory of suffuse light penetrating everything. It was blinding and good and flowed with a silky essence.
Pure existence.
And from somewhere in its endless penetration, a form took place. He heard the water rushing, heard it crashing. He felt the foamy fingers slide over smooth sand. Felt the craggy rocks rise up.
The light condensed.
It was white. Then yellow.
Orange.
It solidified into a ball just above a sharp line. He felt its warmth. He was the warmth. The water thrummed a beat on the shore. It crashed inside him.
He pulled away from the sensations.
Felt a body that was separate from the sun and ocean and beach. Feet on the wet sand, toes buried beneath it. A bare chest for the rising sun to kiss. Hair falling over eyes that could see.
Could see.
See.
Far to the right, hundreds of yards, she walked down a steep dune, between the sea oats and the soft sand. She reached the hardpack, where the water skimmed over the top in bubbly sheets. Her skin dark and unblemished. Her feet flung the water as she ran.
Nix turned.
He ran.
He went to her. To the girl in dreamland.
They embraced. They fell in the water, rolling over and over. His face buried in her thick hair. Inhaled her.
And the sky broke open.
Rain poured from the heavens.
The lagoon wept with joy.
Nix is home. Nix is home.
“Raine,” he whispered.
M0THER
Beauty is Biomite Deep
______
Nikki had seen houses that big; she’d driven by them, just never walked up to one. Now she was standing on the porch made from some sort of dark tropical wood. Ceiling fans turned lazily above them.
“You sure about this?” she asked Carly.
The house was dark except for a single light in the back somewhere. It didn’t look like anyone was home. It looked haunted.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Carly snapped. “This is the address.”
But we don’t know him. That’s what she wanted to say, but Carly and Kim weren’t interested in caution. They were sixteen. Their best years were now, baby.
As in, NOW.
Carly thumbed the doorbell. Inside, a melodious series of bells echoed. When the last one trailed off, Kim was giggling too hard to press it again. They dared each other to do it. Nikki had her heels on the top step when Kim’s finger hovered over the button—
The door cracked open.
They screamed. They jumped.
An eyeball peeked through the crack. Then a smile. “Hello,” it said.
“You scared us!” Carly slapped the door.
“What took you so long?” The boy opened the ornate door. He was illuminated by the streetlight humming at the curb, his complexion bluish, shadows hiding his eyes. Even so, Nikki could see his complexion was smooth as marble. His teeth straight, white and perfectly square. Lips wet and full.
Like an airbrushed centerfold.
“Come in, come in.” He stepped aside. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“This isn’t your house,” Carly said.
“Mi padre’s casa es mi casa.”
“Ooo… he speaks another language.” Carly and Kim hugged each other on the way inside, laughing along the way.
The boy stepped out and took Nikki’s hand. “You must be Cinderella.”
His eyes peered from shadows, cold as winter rain, blue as a frozen sky. His hand, though, warm as a soft blanket.
A large chandelier greeted her inside the foyer. She could see a grand piano in the shadows of a great room on the right and a spiraling staircase on the left. The back room, the only light in the house, was the kitchen.
Ten teens sat in a circle. A candelabrum burned in the middle. Perfect skin. Perfect teeth. They laughed with perfect pitch and cadence.
Perfect.
The boy leaned into her. He smelled like new leather.
“Watch.”
And Nikki watched. One of the girls tucked her knees together and bowed until her forehead touched the floor. One of the guys wrapped something over the back of her neck. They sat back and watched her convulse. Nikki stuttered back, but the boy put his arm around her, drawing her close.
The girl threw her head back.
Eyes bright.
Smile vacant.
She sat back with a dopey grin while the boy and girl on her left and right held her steady. Nikki swore she saw her cheekbones lifting, cheeks draw in and lips plump up.
“Spiking,” the boy whispered. “We’re overriding our biomites, reprogramming them to do what we want. To look like…” He smiled, beautifully. “This.”
“How?” Nikki muttered. “You need to be a doctor—”
“Or have the right connections.”
The candles flickered in his eyes.
Each of them took their turn, always bowing, always coming up with a smile.
And always looking more perfect than before.
“You got to try this,” Carly said, ten minutes after her turn. “Don’t be afraid, girl. It’s a rush.”
Nikki noticed her blemishes were gone. And her nose seemed… slimmer.
“I don’t know.”
And around it went. Around it went.
Nikki nearly turned and left. The boy, though. Each time he smiled, she melted. And when he said he’d do it, he’d be the one that put the spiker on her neck and held her hand, she let him. She let him take her down to the floor. Let him guide her head to the cold floor.
And wrap the thing on her neck.
It was heavier than she thought it would be.
And warm.
Then hot.
It poked spots
around her vertebrae. Flooded her brain with hot soup. She melted like a puddle of wax thrown on a hot plate. Colors swirled in a psychedelic mind storm. She was tossed into the sky, landed in Oz and skidded down the yellow brick road, tumbling…
And tumbling.
And laughter.
Her head was lead. She pushed with both hands to lift it. Candlelight flickered like stars and the perfect people laughed and smiled and—
Screamed.
They scrambled like rats, hands clawing the slick floor.
Nikki’s cheeks rippled like waves. Her teeth were filling her mouth. Her nails slid out of her fingers like utility blades.
Later, it was reported, her biomites had an adverse reaction to the reprogramming module. She was dumped outside the emergency room.
Her head the size of a pumpkin.
25
Marcus swirled the tumbler of tomato juice and ice, looking out the twenty-second floor of the Allerton Hotel. Chicago at night, Michigan Avenue was electric fire. The streets were streaked with taillights. He lifted a small pair of binoculars and spied the janitorial worker in an office building across the street. He scanned the other floors. No one working late or otherwise. He could always find someone up to no good. The month before, while in New York, he watched a couple getting busy on the roof. They both faced the same direction, watching the city lights while he thrust from behind. Their bodies synchronized.
“Yeah.” He tapped the Bluetooth in his ear.
The voice on the other end was coming from his office in Washington. No funny business in those rooms.
“I’ll be here another two, three days, I imagine,” Marcus said.
He’d been on the phone with Janine, explaining the urgency in Chicago. He texted, but she called. He told her the boy’s sister had him in a corner; he was taking care of that. He needed to stay. She complained about missing a parent-teacher conference. In fact, he’d missed all of them so far. But what was he going to do? Let the country fall apart so he could make sure William got a seat near the front?
He was staying in Chicago. He was cleaning up.
“Not acceptable.” He loosened his tie and unbuttoned. “It needs to be done by tomorrow.”
He sipped the bottom of the glass.
“I don’t want any excuses, Chad. Tell the boys it needs to be done tomorrow by nine a.m. or they’re looking for work, understand? I’ll make sure they never find a job that even remotely deals with computers, trust me. Text me when it’s uploaded.”
Marcus pulled the drawer out and sorted through the neatly folded clothes. A small leather pouch was beneath a layer of T-shirts. He unzipped it, digging through razors and small tubes of toothpaste, finding the small silver cube about the size of a billiards chalk.
Chad was still relaying details about his assignment; Marcus half listened to the excuses. People, he’d learned, needed pushed. They could tolerate much, much, MUCH more discomfort than they believed. People needed a leader, they needed someone to give direction and incentive, to put a boot in their ass when they slowed down; otherwise they’d toil in mediocrity, and where would they be then? Where would the human species be if they sat around fires playing bongos all day long?
“Pull some of the techs off their other assignments; get everyone working on this. It has to be done by morning, Chad. And that’s final. Do you have any more questions?”
Silence hung in the Bluetooth. Then, “When will you be back, sir?”
“If all goes well, I’ll be back in three days. It could be longer. Peterson will monitor the halfskin program while I’m gone. He’ll attend any shutdowns, in the meantime, and he will report to the Secretary.”
Marcus pulled the bedspread onto the floor. He rolled the cube into the middle of the linen sheets.
“Nine a.m.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcus pulled the phone from his ear and tossed it on the dresser along with his wallet and watch.
He gazed at the lights while he undid the cuffs, pulling his shirt from his pants and sliding the belt from the loops. He undid the buttons, exposing his smooth chest. He pulled the heavy drapes closed.
Marcus folded his clothes.
Completely undressed.
Only when everything was put away did he turn off all the lights and go to the shower. He soaked in hot water until he was soft and supple all over, then soaped up his arms and chest, cleaning every part of his body. Even between his toes. When he was finished, he powdered and clipped his nails and stood in front of the mirror as God intended.
All man.
All flesh.
Clean and ready to do work.
Marcus turned the lights out and stepped out of the bathroom. He went about his nightcap without saying another word.
26
Nix’s friends went to a doctor’s office when they were sick, where there were magazines in the waiting room and they got a sucker when they were done. Their doctors were in a clinic or next to the hospital, where they had to wait their turn.
Nix didn’t have to wait. He went to Technology Park.
The buildings were made of glass. The pond out front was clear with a large fountain. Three flag poles soared near the front doors, flags whipping on top.
When Nix got sick, he didn’t feel like other people felt. He didn’t get sluggish or throw up. He buzzed. It wasn’t anything someone could hear, just an intense humming that sizzled all over. His sister couldn’t hear it, but she could tell just by looking at him.
The buzzies are back.
The man in the glass building fixed the buzzies; Nix remembered that day well. He followed his sister up the wide steps. Avery held onto her hand, a pacifier plugged in her mouth. Cali wore a pin-striped skirt and jacket; the white lapel of her silk shirt flipped in the breeze. Her office was in the same complex, different glass building. She took Nix out of school.
He had a special box attached to his hip. It looked like a phone, but it didn’t make calls. It emitted harmonizing sonar that equalized the buzzing biomites. It was experimental. Everything they did was experimental when it came to Nix.
Nix was only eight, but he knew what experimental meant. He knew he was different than everyone else. Cali explained that his biomites sometimes didn’t get along with the blood cells and there was a fight. When things got bad, he got shaky and the sonar box would hum loudly. Sometimes he felt better, instantly.
Sometimes it took a while.
And, sometimes, there was war.
They stopped at the receptionist desk, this metal, curving wall in the giant foyer. Five people could sit behind it, but there was only one: a guy with short hair and always a phone in his ear. He pushed a button to let them through the door and said hello as they approached. Cali’s heels echoed off the hard floor. Above them—three stories up—was the ceiling, where large bird sculptures hung and twisted.
In Search of Knowledge, Harmony and Freedom.
That was carved behind the desk, engraved on a gold plate in cursive. Nix didn’t know what that meant. He just knew that whenever he was there, something was going to hurt.
Always.
But, afterwards, it felt better.
He had nowhere else to go.
They went to a small room with five chairs. There were no magazines, no TV. Just chairs and a clock. Nix watched the second hand tick around the face while the sonar box hummed.
The doorknob turned.
Dr. Merrick didn’t wear a stethoscope or a white coat like most doctors. He always wore tan pants and a wrinkle-free shirt. He kept his hair cut really short.
“Dr. Cali.” He crossed the room in three steps and hugged Nix’s sister. “How are things on your side of corporate?”
“Oh, you know. Grants are still in limbo, so our hands are a little tied with the development of the last biomite generation.”
“What about this one?” Dr. Merrick squatted. Avery hid behind Cali, making pacifier noises. He tried to tickle her, but she stayed on the move.
“Young man.”
Dr. Merrick held out his fist. Nix gently punched it.
“You feeling all right?”
Shrug.
“What’s this?” Dr. Merrick shrugged back. “Yes? No?”
Nix didn’t feel like smiling. His guts felt like they were on an elevator.
“Let’s take a look at you.” Dr. Merrick held the door open. Nix followed Cali into his lair, an office in the back where there were no good memories.
“I’ll be right back. Stay with Uncle Nix.”
Cali peeled Avery’s hands off her leg and plopped her in the seat next to Nix. She held out her arms and started crying around the pacifier. It was just as loud as if nothing was plugging her up. Cali tried a few more bribes. Nothing worked until Dr. Merrick pulled a purple lollipop from his pocket.
He does have suckers.
“I was ready today,” he said.
Cali peeled off the wrapper.
Avery was transfixed by the color. Cali made her escape. It wasn’t far. They were on the other side of the door, their voices muffled. Avery opened her mouth and let the pacifier drop on the floor to make room for the sucker.
Nix pulled the sonar box off his belt. Sometimes it worked better if he pressed it against his stomach. He picked up Avery’s pacifier. There was no sink to wash it off. There wasn’t much besides a couple of chairs and an office desk with computers and microscopes and things that caused pain.
Nix sat back down, held the dirty pacifier and stared at the only picture on the wall. It was a big green mountain with a long granite cliff. Water fell from a hole in the stone wall, drifting hundreds of feet to a blue sea below. He’d been in the office before, staring at that scene while Dr. Merrick prepared one of his special injections. Sometimes he’d stick it in his leg, sometimes the hip or arm. Once he got one in the back of the head. He always numbed it so he didn’t feel the sting, but there was nothing he could do about the pressure.
That would last for hours.
Nix cried every time. Grown men would, too.
He didn’t like this place. He wanted to be somewhere fun. Somewhere nice. Somewhere normal people went, do things that normal families did. That was impossible. At eight, he knew normal was gone.
Avery began exploring the office with the white stick poking between her lips. She opened a drawer and found a pad of paper. There was a pen attached to a clipboard on the back of the door. He thought maybe he could untie it and give it to her. Avery loved to draw.
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