Skin Trials

by S Y Humphrey

  Had the stodgy Aurora and muscular N.G. not surrounded them, she would have taken off running, in search of one of her father’s bases. But she wasn’t sure what to make of the shadowy figures surrounding them. She surmised those prostitutes must have had a pimp waiting somewhere, and Seren didn’t want to find out where. Not when she’d never even been to D.C.

  “I’m guessing the houses in the mountains don’t smell so bad, huh?” Pike asked.

  “Why don’t any of you just scan in? Enter your DNA into the database?” she asked.

  “You still don’t get it. As long as we’re off the radar, we can do more. We go on the radar, your papi will always be tracking us, questioning us. Where’d we go? Who’d we talk to? Why did we help this person? How much clothing or food did we give to that person?”

  “All they people you’re helping could be fed if they just scanned in. This system is not merely as awful as you make it,” Seren shot back. “You people are always just looking for something to be mad about. Something to rebel against. Nothing will ever be good enough.”

  “Sorry if we don’t want to live with a literal price tag on our heads,” Aurora finally piped up.

  The wheels of the truck squeaked to a stop inside a small town, filled with two-story brick houses, two-story and wooden and brick, that looked like they but once belonged to hard-working professionals. Seren didn’t bother asking where they’d gone, because she knew. Those who could afford the genetic treatments to improve themselves had fled to the mid-West to join Tier Two.

  Banging startled them all. N.G. whipped out a large gun. They all jumped into position to fire if necessary.

  “Trespassers!” someone yelled outside. “What you got in this truck? You got medicine? Nautilus?”

  “Get off my truck! Don’t make me pull something on you!” she heard Pike in the front.

  “This is our territory,” the rough voice replied. “What do you want to do? Open up! You don’t pass unless we say!”

  “Ambush!” Aurora whispered.

  Voices rose outside, and they heard feet running around to the back of the trailer. Then silence. N.G motioned for Seren to slide behind him, out of view. She thought quickly. Could this be her moment to spring for help and escape? But escape to what? Another group, perhaps more vicious, that could put her out on the street, and sell her? With no connection or line of communication to her father? She crawled backward.

  They all listened for the keys entering the padlock, and she hovered with N.G. The door slid up, and N.G. fired shots, surprising the attackers.

  Pike stood outside with his hands up, and looked with his eyes, motioning to the other side of the truck indicating there were more. They all waited.

  “Come out! Your truck is ours now! Come out slow, and throw the gun out where we can see it!” They heard a female’s voice from a few feet outside the truck. N.G. motioned for Pike to step away, before he tossed the gun out, while motioning for Aurora to remain in the truck. N.G. stepped out of the trailer, holding his hands up. Aurora and Seren stayed behind, and out of sight, behind computer boxes. They heard boots come around toward their open trailer. Aurora jumped out and fired. Seren heard another body fell.

  Seren had never seen a dead body. Two were already dead, and a third twitched, gasping for the last breaths. N.G., Pike and Aurora searched them for any valuables.

  “We need to reach southern Virginia before sunset. It’ll be a safe place to sleep and rest up on the way to Atlanta, go over the attack plan with the Growers,” N.G. said to Aurora and Pike, as his hand closed around Seren’s arm and shoved her back inside the truck.

  “All those people wanted was medicine,” Seren said, as she wondered if they really needed to be killed.

  “Exactly,” N.G. said, glaring at her. “Make sure you tell your so-called father that the next time you see him.”

  Aurora and N.G. played card games, and she refused their invitations to play, not giving them an opening to make her comfortable. Instead, Seren rode in silence, with her thoughts, recalling the man lying in the dirt hole. Dr. Terry. She tried not to think about all she’d seen and heard concerning her father’s dealings. The scientist from Honduras, called Max, had been intense as he described his father, supposedly killed by Lieutenant Scarborough. Seren knew her dad would have a logical explanation, a complete history of all these people had done to undermine justice in Perfect Society. She knew he would easily straighten out the lies they’d told. All of them.

  The truck finally stopped.

  “Pike!” She heard young voices yell outside. They sounded happy. The padlock clicked on locked in the door of the trailer flew up, to reveal young, eager faces.

  Stepping out of the doors, Seren saw the prettiest and most well-kept homes since the start of the trip. Two-story farmhouses were surrounded by golden fields. Rows upon rows of wheat swayed under the evening sun, and in other fields stood long green stalks that appeared to be corn. Bodies hovered over, planting and watering, working diligently. Their backs carried water, and in their arms others held baskets as they laughed and chatted while working. So very different than the misery and despair Seren had of the inner cities.

  She smiled at the children. Some of them had skin lesions and diseases on their bodies, and she immediately cringed.

  “Who is she?” a small girl asked, staring at Seren.

  “She’s the monster. From the mean people in Denver who take the medicine,” a boy answered. “I saw her on the t.v. She’s got a spaceship. Where they will take everything away.”

  Seren felt her face turning red,as he said it.

  “What’s the matter? You’ve never seen the man-eater before?” An older woman asked, from the porch, sophisticated and measured, carrying an air of authority. She seemed around the same age as N.G., the Tier One woman, and Aurora— early to mid-thirties. Her chin jutted forward and she lifted her chin, squinting her eyes.

  “You bring the hardware?” she asked N.G.

  “Yes, ma’am!” N.G. lifted the lid to one of the toolboxes, displaying weapons and heavy duty construction supplies and materials. But underneath, Seren saw vials of different sizes, filled with blue, green, and orange liquid. “Max whipped up a batch just for you.”

  The woman’s hardened face broke into a satisfied grin once she saw the fluids. Max, the scientist back in Washington, D.C., must have been the maker of this medicine they called Nautilus. Without acknowledging Seren, the woman dismissively turned away.

  Seren looked around and saw mostly small bodies working between the farmhouses, each having its own spacious yard, and all of them dotting the narrow streets. They entered one, and the scent of rising dough and stew on the stove top stirred memories of coming home from school to her servant Mabel’s cooking. Seren’s eyes immediately wondered along the walls, searching for the VScan. Nothing. She wondered how they could maintain all this without having the government’s authorization? The furnishings and decor were humble, plain and dated, but clean. Wooden stairs led to a second floor, and the railing was littered with colorful water paintings. Children bolted inside to stare at Seren, some barefoot, others wearing mismatched shoes.

  “Galli, can we keep her?” One of the children asked the woman who seemed to be in charge.

  “No. We don’t want her,” Galli answered, shooting Seren with a defiant glare. She turned to go out on the porch and ring the bell hanging from the roof. “Dinner! Dinner, everyone!”

  At the table, the children’s laughter and chatting made Seren long for her parents’ helter-skelter morning breakfasts. She blinked away tears, and thoughts of her mother’s political aides and her father’s military analysts debating the next strategy while munching Mabel’s buttermilk pancakes. The long table spread throughout the dining room, filled with many small bodies. The children did not hide their gawking at Seren. Underneath the table, a couple of the younger ones lingered at her feet, while yet another unabashedly sauntered up and sandwiched himself between Seren and Pike.

&n
bsp; “Your eye looks funny. I should fix it,” one of the little boys said.

  Seren felt the blood drain from her face. “What?”

  “Oh, I know how!” The boy continued. “Paint! We’ll paint this ugly eye blue. That way they’re both pretty,” he said pushing his small finger very close to her face.

  “That’s stupid. You can’t paint somebody’s eye! You need surgery,” another girl interjected.

  “Rory, what do we say about the word ‘stupid’? Ryan, it’s almost your shift. Eat up so you’re not hungry,” Galli chastised.

  Seren dropped her fork, pushing away her plate. She needed to find a bathroom, to see for herself. “Is there a restroom or some place I can go and relieve myself?”

  “No,” Galli snapped. “People here are dying. They need medicine your father has taken from us. Nobody gives a damn what you look like.” Seren was stunned by the woman’s hard tone. Galli then pulled a long rifle from under the table, and sat it next to her plate. “Just in case you wanted to practice any of that Judo crap on me.”

  “Miss, I’ve never done anything to you. I’m sure whatever you think of me, it’s just a misunderstanding.”

  “Shut up,” the woman’s flat mouth snapped.

  N.G., Aurora and Pike continued eating, before N.G. finally looked up. “We need to discuss confirm everybody’s positions.”

  “Very well then. The other houses stand ready to back you up…” Galli started. Her eyes darted to Seren. “I won’t discuss this in front of her.” Galli looked to Seren. “We have some people who are sick with pneumonia, man-eater and other illnesses. They have been waiting for medicine. Also couple who are injured, from making runs for food in the city. Perhaps while you’re here, in exchange for that valuable food you just ate, you can do something useful beside stare at yourself in the mirror.”

  Seren swallowed. “I’m not sure how much help I would be. I haven’t studied medicine. Only aerospace.”

  “That’s far more than any of us ever had a chance to study. And we help our fellow humans every day,” Galli challenged.

  “Very well then, I’ll see what I can do.”

  N.G. looked at Pike. “You should probably go with her.”

  As Seren and Pike followed a young boy outside, Seren overheard the conversation between Galli and N.G. through an open window.

  “Why did you bring her here? I don’t have CAGE authorization. She’s going to go back and report me and get us all detained,” Galli fussed.

  “She doesn’t even know where she is. She’s never been out east. Don’t worry. She won’t be here long,” came N.G.’s voice.

  The young boy took them a few houses away, and fair and did not realize how much she missed her morning jog. While the flatlands didn’t compare to the Rocky Mountains, she was grateful for the sun and lovely nature, nevertheless.

  Whose houses are these?” Seren asked the boy.

  “The houses of our…” he started to answer before his lanky body whipped around. “Why?”

  She’d wanted to know what kind of operation this was. Who were all these people? How did citizens so different come together this way, exchanging and trading goods, and silently scheming against Tier One?

  “They’re so pretty and well-kept. I was just wondering who was doing such a good job,” Seren said.

  “Nice try,” Pike laughed. “You get an A for effort. Why don’t you just stick to what you’re supposed to be doing?”

  “Can you blame me for trying?” she joked. Her smart-aleck mouth and fired off in a relaxed moment, before she could catch herself. They stopped and stared at each other. She realized what she’d done. Not wanting to acknowledge she’d opened up for even a moment, she stayed silent.

  “Wow, so the little rich girl has a sense of humor,” he whispered, and his eyes searched hers. For a small moment, Seren might have thought she saw what Nasreen saw in him. He didn’t seem as bitter as his older teammates, as if he was always judging her.

  “This is it,” the kid said, breaking the moment and pointing to a small chapel, with a single point at the top. They entered and Seren found numerous cots of kids, some lying two to a cot. All the pews had either been removed from the center of the room or shoved to the side. Seren sucked in at the sight of so many bodies.

  “Who is she?” One of the children asked in an authoritative tone.

  “Some space lady who doesn’t know anything about medicine.”

  Another child examined her with an almost resentful ditrust.

  “Galli sent you? I don’t get why she thinks every adult can fix somebody. This kid has a big toothache. This one a sprained knee. This one probably has pneumonia, this one bad migraines. I gave them medicine, but have at it.”

  Seren looked over the children, noting the pained looks on their faces. While examining the sprained knee that turned slightly purple, she determined that the ACL may be torn and needed repairing. The child with migraines possibly had blood accumulating along his brain, or maybe a tumor.

  “Fix it,” the child with possible head bleed whispered.

  “I’m not a surgeon.”

  Between labored breaths, he gasped. “Please.”

  “How did you get this? Where are your parents? Why hasn’t anyone taken you to a surgeon?”

  One of the other kids answered, “He fell from a tree during his turn to watch. He wasn’t really watching and was playing a game. Hit his head.”

  “What on Earth are you watching for? You should be in school,” Seren admonished.

  “Soldiers and police to kill. Before they come too close,” one of the other kids answered, before Pike could shoot him a warning glare.

  Seren’s eyes darted to Pike. “Really? And you all criticize my father?” She looked back down at the suffering boy in front of her. “I’m sorry but I don’t know how to help you. I could kill you.”

  “He could die anyway. You could at least try,” one of the other children replied. “Just do whatever it is you all do in Denver.”

  At that, Seren’s insides shuddered. Her eyes scanned the nearly packed little church.

  “We found most of them during our rides through the Fottom,” Pike explained. “Most of their parents are dead, or fled to Illinois and Michigan to Tier Two regions looking for more VScan value. We bring them here to Galli, so they’ll at least have food. Learn how to grow their own produce and know how to fend for themselves. Maybe have a fighting chance.”

  Seren looked to Pike. “Aren’t there any free clinics around? Or people who give medical help on the side?”

  “We try to avoid run-ins with people not in our network. Too much risk.”

  “But what about those credits you guys were collecting at the warehouse the other night? The medical credits? Give them some of those. Take them to a clinic somewhere.”

  Pike scoffed. “Rich girl, you still don’t get it. They’re kids. Kids! If they go to a doctor and ask for help, but they don’t have any parents, they’re getting jailed in foster care. Their lives might be even worse. Most foster parents only take in stray children to steal their VScan ‘value’. These kids can’t trust people.”

  “What is the CAGE?” Seren insisted to know now.

  “Classified Access Grade. What your daddy set up with the tiers,” Pike snapped.

  “Why do you all keep calling it that?”

  “Because that’s what they are. A caste system. Your classified access grades are nothing more than cages you’ve put us in, forcing us to live like animals.”

  The more questions he answered, the more Seren wanted to know. How could somebody use up their VScan “value”? In Tier One, her own value was limitless. She could have whatever she wanted— homes, cars, education, healthcare, food. As long as she produced. She’d never had to worry about limits on her value. But she now wondered what kind of limits were placed on the value of people in other Tiers. What were they allowed to buy? Learn? Where were they allowed to travel? She’d never given a moment’s thought to the polic
ies her parents had created. But other parents leaving their children? Fleeing? Dying of diseases they couldn’t cure? How had this all happened?

  She studied a few hours from an old book someone had in one of the houses, describing the parts of the body, Seren hastily decided it was a head bleed, caused by the fall. She could not research anything on Internet, since access to the internet required VScan permission. That night, Seren’s heart stood still as she used a steak knife and tweezers to slice through his scalp after pressing around to locate the most painful area with her hand. Pike held it open with wire pliers. Slowly, they watched the excess blood from his head dribble into a baking pan. Then, Seren cut the knee, and stitched it together as best as she could so it would heal. She also drilled a hole into the jaw of the kid with a toothache, to relieve possible abscess. Seren guessed the kid with pneumonia was taking the wrong medication.

  As she and Pike returned to the main farmhouse, Seren overheard conversation floating through the window. They were in the middle of war strategy.

  “…like choosing our opponent. We’ll either fight the gangs, diseased, farmers, veterans, or the government,” Aurora said. Hovering over a map, they all grew silent as Seren entered.

  Once inside, Seren chose her words with the harsh Galli carefully. “The child with pneumonia is near death. She’s running a high fever that could soon affect her brain.”

  “We’ve given her what we can,” came Galli’s cold and unaffected response.

  Seren turned to N.G. “You can’t get her some of that Nautilus?”

  “We don’t have the right kind. It comes in different grades, for different purposes— mental disorder, cancer, AIDS, man-eater— and we’ve run out of the grade that would cover cold and flu bacteria that cause common pneumonia. That’s why we need you would tell us where your backup storage is,” he finished, staring directly at her.

  Seren hardened, despite what she’d seen. “Or you could take her to a clinic and scan in. The nation’s emergency supplies are not your only option. She could be dead in weeks, maybe days,” Seren insisted.