by S Y Humphrey
Now, she tried to to fight off questions of what another truth could mean. For her spaceship, for her and Lyndon and their friends, for her life. What truth could these people possess that she did not?
Bodies scurried around Seren, and more people entered the warehouse, all excited Tier Two business people carrying their 3Pads. Sitting alone, tied to the metal beams of a chair, Seren wondered what was this gathering. Some kind of convention or conference? They all talked into their “clinks”— a short term for closed network connection— watches and phones with features simulating high-tech walkie talkies that allowed people to talk in short spurts without a wireless signal, so the government couldn’t capture their location. Seren and her crew had used them for communicating back on her spaceship. That had been mere days before.
These were not lower grade Tier Four mentally disturbed people or Tier Five criminals. These were workers at the top of the Tier Two food chain, the people who jealously wanted to be Ones. This was a quiet revolt.
Seren saw no VScan at the door, an omission that was illegal for a place of business. Instead, people filtered in, having their eyes scanned into what appeared to be a portable, handheld VScan device that Seren had never seen. It was as if they ran a shadow government— their own way of ensuring loyalty and confirming people’s identities outside of Perfect Society.
“Max! NG! You guys did it! You delivered! This is the big one!” someone called.
Tall and skinny, with long hair slicked back into a ponytail, Max ignored them all while leaning over a small lab set-up of tables filled with microscopes and computers. Wearing his white lab jacket, she assumed he was the scientist of the group.
Meanwhile, the warehouse buzzed with excited patrons. Many of whom brought valuables such as gold, diamonds and VScan statements, which were still good only to boast one’s financial worth. In exchange for having captured her, NG and Pike collected the offerings of jewelry and fine stones. The business people even offered their cars. Tech guys rolled in large containers and ripped open the lids. Seren watched as they pulled out high-tech weaponry that Seren knew had been outlawed with Perfect Society, and not allowed on the streets— devices capable of system overrides, tracking and spying, as well as new-school automatic weapons with no trigger, night goggles and night access devices. Finally, Seren watched as they pulled up backpacks, which NG strapped onto himself and tried on. She had seen those before. They were the same jetpacks she had seen the rocketeers wearing the night they stormed her science lab.
“Ha, back away. I contributed the most,” a guy proclaimed.
“No, you didn’t! We did!” a woman standing in a different group shot back.
“All right! All right, everybody! Backup! I said back up!” Seren heard NG’s voice a few feet away, outside the growing huddle. “Let’s have some order here. We don’t have much time. Jernigan will be calling in a couple of minutes.” The room cheered again. “Our Nautilus supplies are low. We’ve been squeaking along so far, but we are all out of coral leaf from Honduras. So the Nautilus works slower now, and people’s cancers and illnesses are getting worse. Max and the El Centros have gotten us more weapons and foot soldiers who can march up through the Southern states. If Jernigan gives us Dr. Terry, he can help us figure out how to strengthen the Nautilus.”
“What if Jernigan doesn’t give you Terry? And our families keep deteriorating, without cures or treatment?” someone called out.
“That’s right! My son with leukemia is on the brink of death,” another person insisted.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t just kill Jernigan while you had him cornered! What do we need her for?” someone else yelled, while motioning toward Seren. “Why didn’t you kidnap him and torture him, the way he tortured so many others?”
Seren watched their faces grow angry. She wondered what they were talking about.
The Tier One leader looked down at Seren. “Because he knows information that his cronies don’t. If we torture him, he won’t talk. Don’t forget. Stephen Jernigan is a war hero. He’s trained for combat. He thrives on it. So we took something more precious to him. Makes it more likely he’ll give us what we want.”
“And if he doesn’t give up Terry and the Nautilus supplies?”
“We start toward Denver,” the Tier One leader declared with finality, eying Seren. “If he doesn’t give us Dr. Terry, then it’s all or nothing.”
NG held up his hand. “Everyone, it’s time!”
A large 3-D projection appeared in front of them all. Seren marveled at how they had rigged the devices, so they would activate without a VScan.
She felt a joyful wave flow through her to see her father and several other familiar officials in the screen.
“You bums out there? You see this? After I show you this, you name the place where you want him to be,” Stephen Jernigan peered into the 3V.
The image cut from her father to pitch black darkness. A flashlight then cut on, illuminating a small, narrow area. Seren saw an arm and a sagging chest. The camera panned around what appeared to be a small, dirt hole in the Earth. Seren sucked in sharply at the sight of a human body, that appeared to wriggle in the dirt. Sounds of heavy, labored breathing filled their ears. But no face was displayed. Instead, they saw a dirty body, lying down.
“Ah…” a parched throat barely creaked. “I won’t give you… what day is it? Where’s my… fam…?” The flashlight made its way up scaled skin that could have belonged to an alligator or crocodile. The person’s skin was so dry and crusted that Seren pulled away. Finally, the man’s face was displayed, squinting and wrinkled. “Jernig—”
Pitch blackness shrouded the camera again. Seren turned away, trying to contain her own confusion and upset at the person being confined in the ground. Who was that?
Stephen Jernigan’s face appeared once more in the 3V. “There. You’ve got your confirmation.”
“1780 Peachtree Street, Atlanta. Five days from now. Three o’clock. Leave the Cavalry at home,” NG demanded.
The 3V shut off. Max shook his head, and pulled his hands down his face, his eyes tearing up with emotion. A sobering hush smothered the previous cheers and celebration.
Disturbed by the sight of the man, Seren stared at all of their long faces. What had her father done? What had that person done to deserve that treatment? She brushed the thoughts from her mind. Whatever it was, her father’s actions must have been necessary. That person had to be an enemy of some kind, who had defied Perfect Society, and flouted the law, she told herself.
NG’s face matched Max’s. “But we were right. All this time. He’s been alive.”
Another Tier Two added, “Dr. Terry… the founder of modern society. He didn’t even know what year it is.”
Seren turned her head, inwardly scoffing. Her father was the founder of modern society. She knew this, had watched him and his tech teams develop the system alongside other Ones as she was growing up. She recalled all the times her only outings with him were to research and development labs, concept meetings and military exercises, some of which she had joined.
One of the Tier Twos stepped forward. “I can send some fighters to back you up in Atlanta.”
“I will get you the barge and the boaters,” a woman called.
“I’ll get the food VScans,” yet another volunteered.
“I will get you more medical VScans.”
“But once you get deeper into the South, there’s not much technology, so you will need more than electronic credits. You will need valuables. I’ll get you the jewels.”
Seren was beginning to understand now. They bartered with one another as a way of avoiding purchasing certain items in Perfect Society. Within their own shadow financial system, they traded goods outside of VScanners to make them harder for her father’s ABI agents to track. What she couldn’t understand was why. And she continued to wonder who was this man, Lyle Terry, who had brought them all together and humbled them.
NG raised his fist in the air.
“For America!”
The other Twos joined him, pointing their index fingers to the sky, and others raised their fists. “For America!”
The Tier One woman, NG and the scientist all approached Seren. The woman dropped to a squat.
“The lab results are in,” the scientist Max began.
“Stephen and Mariel Jernigan are not your parents,” Tier One woman reported.
Seren’s shriek flew out before she could stop it. “Liar!”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tier One woman clicked her lips with mocking sympathy. “Why would I lie to you?” Her voice and her gaze were unwavering.
“Because you hate us and you want me to turn on him! You already said it!” Seren snapped, writhing and shutting her eyes tight, to squeeze back tears.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got it backwards. Jernigan’s lied to you so much already, that all I really need to destroy your world is the truth. He stole you. And he turned you into somebody else.”
Seren turned her head, swallowing her reeling emotions. It wasn’t possible. They were too much alike. Too haughty, stubborn, driven and disciplined. “Get away from me.”
The scientist Max spoke up. “You want to know what else he stole? Lives. Blood. Families. It all happened in the Skin Trials. Jernigan tortured innocent people— immigrants, sick people, mentally ill…”
“The poor,” NG added, gripping Max’s shoulder and squeezing it to comfort him.
“My father is dead, because of Stephen Jernigan and that ridiculous Lieutenant Scarborough who did his killing for him,” Max breathed.
“No,” Seren snapped. “You can stand there and talk as long as you want and I will not believe a bunch of terrorists.”
“Then believe what you just saw. A man in the ground,” NG seethed, pulling out his 3Pad and displaying projections of documents. His finger swiped over them and Seren saw the name of Jernigan Enterprises, her father’s company. It was named as the recipient of large sums of money. “Believe the government contracts your father— Stephen Jernigan— got in the 2020s to treat a flesh-eating disease that spread in the floods. They called it the ‘man-eater,’ easily curable. He was supposed to develop a gene-changing cure called the Nautilus, created by that scientist you just saw, Lyle Terry, one of the world’s best scientists. But instead of helping the people he was paid to help, Jernigan kept the Nautilus for himself. He tested it on poor people, tortured them, and made its effects stronger. Then he sold the improved product to wealthy investors.”
“They used Jernigan’s version to make themselves smarter, prettier and healthier,” the scientist Max added.
“I believe now you Denver folks call it the G shot,” Tier One woman said, reaching out to touch Seren’s hair. Seren, still processed all of what they said, did not think to pull away fast enough. The woman continued, “Nautilus, in strong enough doses, can change your genes and literally turn you into anybody.”
“But Stephen Jernigan and his people— that old schnauzer you call Dr. Placer — could never perfect the treatment. They could never make it permanent. That’s why Dr. Terry is still alive,” N.G. said.
“That’s why you have to get a shot every three months. So you can maintain…” Tier One woman’s eyes looked Seren up and down, “… whatever it is you are.”
Seren tried not to let their words shake her. Closing her eyes, she remembered the feel of her father’s arms around her, every time she’d ever been afraid or unsure. She clung to the comfort of his confident grin and tired hazel eyes just the other night after the professor had been arrested. The professor.
One more mission, and then my work will be complete.
Advance Liberty? Seren had asked.
Yes. To advance liberty. Seren remembered how her longtime mentor had spoken slowly, the older astronaut’s demeanor stoic. Seren’s head fell as she processed her mentor’s betrayal. Or had it been? You try so hard to be Jernigan’s daughter. To show the world you’re just as good as him. Just as smart. Just as strong. But what if you’re more? Professor Michels had been trying to tell her something. But Tiny wouldn’t let her finish.
Seren swung her head just then. She didn’t want to know. Professor Michels had cooperated with enemies, so whatever she’d had to say did not matter too Seren now.
Taking a breath, fighting not to break down, Seren lifted her head again and faced her captors. “Not that I believe this well-concocted lie. But even if all that were true, why should I care?” she finally asked. “In a few days, you’ll get your scientist back and you can make whatever formula you want.”
“First off, we don’t trust Jernigan, so there are no guarantees he’ll actually give us Terry. Second, we need to know where he stores the backup supplies of your G-shot medicine. We need it now, before we lose more people,” NG answered.
Seren swallowed. “People who will fight Tier One once they all feel better?”
“People who are our families. People whose lives Dr. Terry tried to heal, but Jernigan destroyed and for a long time, they’ve been hanging on by a thread,” Max said.
“Look, you don’t have to tell us now.” The Tier One woman’s eyes stared straight into Seren’s. “But I know who and what you really are, and I have faith in you, the same way Professor Michels did. I don’t think you’re the monster Stephen Jernigan wants you to be.”
“Don’t invoke the name of a traitor as a way to get me to trust you,” Seren muttered.
They were hoping that Professor Michels had groomed her enough that Seren would drop her guard at the mention of her name.
“I invoke the name of a patriot who gave your space program her all, whom we should all aspire to be,” the Tier One woman replied.
“She was in the program for her own selfish motives.”
“She was there so she could help her friend, Lyle Terry.”
Seren refused to let them goad her, no matter how the revelations had begun threading their way through her. No matter that she already had her own questions and confusion about what her father had done. She would not betray him, her house, or Tier One.
“Take the metal cuffs off,” NG ordered.
“We shouldn’t trust her. Look at all the problems she caused back in Missouri,” Aurora objected, her face immediately revealing her recognition that she had said too much.
“Take them off,” NG insisted, tossing her a long look. “She’s not going anywhere. There’s not a VScan anywhere close, and she wouldn’t last five minutes once she gets out that door.”
Seren was grateful to feel the metal removed from her skin and to move her limbs freely again. She went to the small bathroom to relieve herself for the first time in hours. That’s when she remembered the note from Nasreen. Quickly, she pulled it out and unfolded it.
“Please undo my marriage vows. Will prove I have Tier One value if I am free.”
10
Food for Nautilus
Seren awakened expecting to feel her bed at home in Denver. Instead, her eyes opened to the gray floor of the warehouse. Her head lay on a balled up paper bag.
The lab results are in. Stephen and Mariel Jernigan are not your parents. It hadn’t been a nightmare.
“We need to move before daylight. Got some toast and eggs on the burner over there if you want,” Pike called. “Sorry, no sausage. No pigs and cows here in the Fottom. Tier Two regions only.”
As she washed up, Seren wondered if she should give Pike the note from Nasreen. She had tucked the note back into her bra, and scribbled in with the handwriting rushed and hurried. For the first time, since they’d left that house, Seren remembered what she heard. The loud smack in the hallway, the cutting marks on Nasreen’s wrists, the rough way the older women spoke to her, and the upset on Pike’s face having to leave her there. She tried to recall if Lyndon had ever looked at her that way. She wondered where Lyndon was, why he had not appeared in any of the videos alongside her father. The night he proposed flashed across her mind, him taking back his ring and kissing her for
ehead, leaving with his parents instead of staying by her side.
She shot another quick glance at her inner right thigh. The dark blemish on her leg seemed to have doubled in size, still small, but inevitable. What did it mean?
It had to be about 4:30 AM when they headed out. They didn’t blindfold her as they exited the warehouse. She stared at the dark streets. Across a body of water, she saw the famous old Lincoln Memorial. She realized she must have finally stood in the part of the East Coast once known as Foggy Bottom, now called the Fottom.
“You brought me to Washington, D.C? Where there are still lots of military installments. Bold,” she said.
“A lot of hopeful Tier Twos here can’t go anywhere else and be scanned. So they have to stay here, and we just had to be more careful to stay under the radar.”
“You stare at it like you’ve never seen it before,” Pike explained.
“I haven’t.”
“But your mother is a senator. Your dad a Secretary.”
“By the time I was born, they were already transitioning from from D.C. to Denver. She always said this place was a mess and I didn’t need to be here,” Seren replied.
“You know that much of this city was built by slaves, right?” he asked.
“Did they have something better to do?” she snapped, annoyed at his attempt to pull on her heartstrings. She had determined that she would stay strong. Just four more days.
Homeless people crowded the streets. Prostitutes strolled down blocks, and offered their services in exchange for healthcare VScan credits. A few of them were children, who made the same offer. Seren turned her head away. There were no beggars and Tier One, and she had never seen one.
She tried to avoid inhaling the fumes of garbage and urine that seemed to consume some of the streets. No matter which way she turned, she was assaulted by the stench of musty bodies that smelled near death. Miserly humans lay on the streets, sleeping, and scrounging through trash cans. Seren’s face flinched to see them peeing openly. Another couple nearby squirmed in an alley before she realized they were having sex. There was no relief from the filth, even when she cupped her hand over her mouth and nose.
