by J. Kowallis
“Fine,” he dropped his voice. “I’m only saying Roy might be beyond our help.”
Looking up from the paper, Nate saw Reggie run her hands, blood bedded under her nails, through her hair in frustration. “Why are we still here then? If there’s no hope for a single person in this city, why are we here, Nate? We might as well leave, because I feel like we’re wasting our lives attempting to save a society that might not want it. That woman in there,” she pointed to the bedroom, “was nearly killed because she continued to believe Roy could still be saved, but let’s say you’re right. What if he can’t? What if none of them can?”
“You want me to be honest?” he gripped the countertop, his knuckles turning white. “I don’t know. Not anymore. This isn’t a simple drugs and rehabilitation rollercoaster. These people,” he pointed to the large glass doors, “could have been permanently changed. Until tonight, seeing Ransley beaten to within the last damn inch of her life, I actually believed there might be a possibility!”
He shook his head. “It’s not so simple anymore. It never really was. Because guess what? We may have to face the possibility of leaving behind this entire society to The Public because they’re unchangeable. You want to make the decision to stay locked in a losing scenario? Because I sure as hell don’t want to.”
Silence flooded the room, and the tension clenched his chest like a vise. Nate reminded himself of the promise he’d made to help Reggie. He knew he’d never go back on that assurance. Even if it meant losing himself in the process.
“What are we doing, Nate?”
He turned around to face her. A tear slid down her face and she brushed it away.
“What am I doing? I keep acting like Ransley’s the only one who wants to save him, but it’s not true. I don’t want to see her like that,” she pointed to the bedroom, “and I don’t want to think of Roy doing what he did. I came here to find them. I came here to do something. Now, all we do is fight about it. I fight with Ransley, I fight with you . . .” her eyes rimmed with tears, “and I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
The door to the balcony slid open, cutting through the thickness like a bomb dropping in the middle of a silent night. Nate took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on Reggie while Carmen ducked back inside the apartment. Reggie wouldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t look at Carmen. Her eyes were stuck on the ground, her arms holding her chest.
“Reggie . . .” he started.
“It’s lovely outside? Isn’t it?” Carmen asked both of them, skipping to where they stood. Color began to return to her cheeks, and although she was still loopy, a sense of grounding had happened with her overnight. Forcing her to confront her past caused her memories to trigger something. She seemed to be progressing faster than Nate expected.
“Not really,” Reggie mumbled.
“Carmen,” Nate held a hand up. “We’re in the middle of something right now, can you please . . .”
“Are you not seeing what I see?” Carmen looked back out the window; Nate, and Reggie’s gaze followed. Outside the misty gray sky loomed over the city threateningly. The buildings lit up on the sides, like always, and a steam rose from the grates in the streets. It was dreary like every other day had been since they’d arrived. Nothing had changed.
“Carmen,” his voice tightened. “We just need five minutes.”
Reggie sniffed. “No, we’re done.”
Nate turned away and paced into the living room. He was exhausted. They all were. Reggie was losing her mind, he was coming apart, Ransley was risking her life, and the only one holding it together was, surprisingly, the only one with a broken mind. Carmen.
“¿Qué estás hablando?” Carmen’s focus, like a light switch, changed instantly and she turned to Nate.
“English, Carmen,” Reggie said, her voice low.
“We’re worried,” Nate answered, his arms folded tight. “You remember Roy, and how he went through the Nexis?”
“I did that,” she nods with a straight face.
“Yes, you went through it too. The Nexis changed you,” Reggie answered, fingering the bandages.
Nate held up his hand before Reggie could say anything else to Carmen and looked her straight in the eyes. She looked back with a wide cartoonish gape.
“Carmen, when you say you ‘did that,’ what do you mean?”
“I did that. It’s what I do,” she said straightforward-like and professional.
Reggie’s attention shifted focus and she narrowed her eyes for a moment on Nate. “You do what, Carmen?”
“The Nexis. The subjects go in, I change their weak parts, and make them better. But . . .” she squished her lips together in thought and looked down, “. . . I don’t like it. It makes me feel different.”
Nate immediately flicked his eyes to Reggie and then back to Carmen. “Carmen, can you tell us what happens to the . . . subjects in the Nexis?”
Carmen nodded and then started drumming her fingertips on the counter. Her focus had altered and she began to hum a fast folk song. She did this a lot. Her attention on one specific topic didn’t last long, but this sporadic focus was better than the painful insanity she’d been experiencing the day before.
“Carmen,” Nate snapped his fingers to coax her back.
“Yes?” she asked.
“What did I ask you?”
“What did he say?” she asked, turning to Reggie. Nate rolled his eyes.
“No,” Reggie shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you. Do you remember what Nate asked?”
Carmen looked back at him and shifted her feet. She bit down on her lip and creased her eyebrows. “What were we talking about?”
“The Nexis, Carmen,” he blurted, trying to get to the point.
“Nate,” Reggie warned him. They’d all talked about this very thing. Carmen needed to use what remained of her mind on her own. If she didn’t exercise it, she might slip back. The waiting and repeating was so exhausting. It would be easier for him to ask the question one more time, but he bit his tongue.
“Carmen,” Reggie spoke softly again. “Think hard. What did Nate ask?”
“If . . . no, not ‘if.’ But . . . what the subjects happen to? No,” Carmen shook her head, “What the Nexis does to the subjects, yes?”
Reggie smiled. “Yes. What does the Nexis do to the subjects?”
“Yes, what does the Nexis do to them?” Ransley’s voice carried from the bedroom doorway and Nate rose to his full height.
Ransley’s broken body leaned up against the frame, her face swollen and bruised, her neck decorated with prints of purple and black. Even her words slurred from her swollen gums. She held her arm tight against her ribcage while she leaned. At least she could stand. He didn’t understand how it was possible. Minutes ago, she was unconscious. So battered; barely recognizable. Her skin color was now a vibrant red, and sweat poured down her face.
“What does it do to them?” she repeated again.
For a moment, Nate pulled his attention away from Ransley’s lobster-boiled body, worrying that Carmen’s mind had wondered off again. When The Public employee opened her mouth, it was the first articulate statement she’d spoken in twenty-four hours.
“It’s a process involving practice and science. The mind and body are chemically changed at the genetic level, and the weak parts are stored away.”
“Nothing’s put inside of them?” Reggie questioned.
“No.” Carmen shook her head.
“What happens to the parts you store?” Ransley asked, still holding herself up in the doorway.
“I—I don’t know.”
Nate rubbed his face in frustration. Even so, it was more information than they had ten minutes ago.
“What does this mean?” Ransley’s raspy voice cut through the tension.
“Well, if something is stored away somewhere,” Reggie replied, “can it not be restored?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like we’re talking about a heart transplant
. The old heart isn’t stored somewhere. It’s thrown away because it’s no good. But, who knows how The Public deals with this system. If they look at our weaknesses as unnecessary, why hold onto them? And where?” he said quietly.
Nate didn’t want to hope, but something inside tugged at him. The Public also didn’t seem like a society of waste. He didn’t want to build up Ransley’s hopes. If replacing the missing sections of a person wasn’t possible, or if Carmen wasn’t remembering things correctly, there would be even more disappointment for all of them.
“But if they did store those parts, and it was possible to repair what the Nexis did, we might be able to help Roy. This changes everything, Nate.” Reggie eyed him carefully.
“Of course it does.” Nate looked down at the paper he’d been making notes on. Directions, thoughts, ideas, words were crossed out and re-written, and circled question marks littered the page. None of it mattered anymore. They finally had a lead, and he prayed it would pay off.
“Now that we’re dealing with multiple Roys,” he glanced at Ransley’s broken face, “we’re already having to change how we approach the issue. With this new information from Carmen, it probably means more than we even know at this point. Right now, what worries me is even if we could make it all work out; if we could figure out a way to shut down the Nexis and take over The Public, there’s another fact we haven’t considered. If Roy can still astral project when his original body, or whatever you want to call it, is unconscious, we’ll have a major problem. Roy’s a—”
“Public Guards are at the door,” the gentle automated voice rang through the apartment.
Carmen immediately went for the door and Ransley uncomfortably budged in the doorframe nearly standing straight. In a flash, Nate moved around the counter and grabbed Carmen from behind, covering her mouth. She made no movements to fight back, so he whispered in her ear.
“We can’t answer it, Carmen.”
“She has to,” Ransley softly spoke from her spot. “If she doesn’t, someone else will come back, and they’ll find us all.”
“We don’t even know why they’re here,” Nate replied. “They may already know we’re here.”
“Would they be ringing the doorbell if they did?” Ransley’s frowned, narrowing her eyes at him.
Nate weighted the possibilities and knowing Ransley was right, he spoke into Carmen’s ear again. “Don’t open the door ‘til we hide. Do you understand, Carmen? Tell them you got hurt, and you’ll return to work next week.”
She nodded calmly and he released her.
“Quick. Ransley, go back in the bedroom, and try to hide in the closet panel. Reggie and I will go out on the balcony and wait there.”
He grabbed the two cloakers sitting on the counter, then took Reggie’s hand and watched to make sure Carmen waited for them. She stood still, watching Ransley move back into the bedroom, the door sliding closed behind her. Reggie squeezed his hand and he guided her to the window, handing her the second cloaker. The panel slid back and he helped her through first before pulling himself out. On the street below were five guard transports. Their blue lights flashing. The guards at the door wouldn’t be the only ones in the building.
Using the pad to his right, Nate pressed his hand to it, and then dragged his finger down the left side. The escape ladder to the left of the balcony dropped a few feet and he and Reggie climbed down onto the next apartment’s balcony. It was identical to Carmen’s. He looked inside to make sure no one was there, and seeing that the lights were off, they both crouched and waited, listening up above.
Nate had left the window open on purpose. He wanted to make sure they knew if Carmen’s mental condition gave them away, or if Ransley was found. They couldn’t risk either.
Overhead, he heard a voice float out of the apartment. “Ms. Mata.” His voice paused for a moment. “Forgive me, but I’m a little surprised to see you here. My name is Roydon. I’m with the Public Four Guards.”
Nate closed his eyes. Shit. Guards weren’t the only ones patrolling, but an additional squad of Roys were probably leading the search.
“Yes, yes,” she said a little too enthusiastically.
“Can I ask what happened to you?”
“Um . . .”
At the hesitation, Nate looked up nervously. Normal voice pauses and inflections like that weren’t commonplace in these people. Usually their thought processes were precise, and quick.
“. . . I was hurt, actually. But I’ll be to work next week.”
“Are you sure? The last time anyone saw you, you were being taken during the commotion by the criminals who broke into the city.”
“The commotion?” she asked.
Nate cursed under his breath and Reggie placed two soft, but blood-stained fingers over his lips. It was the first time she’d touched him in weeks. He glanced down at her, anxiety pulsing through his limbs.
“The trespassers who broke into the Chrysalis building to try and take me. Do you not remember it, Ms. Mata?”
There was a pause on her end. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s why I’m hurt.”
Roy gave an unconvinced, “Uh huh.”
“I needed some rest,” Carmen added.
“And how did you get away from them?”
“They . . . left me.”
“They left you? Where?”
“In the trash.”
The lights in the apartment behind them flipped on and Nate gritted his teeth to keep from swearing. He pulled Reggie’s body closer to his into the shadows of the balcony and peered into the room. Two guards entered, their power-guns still resting at the sides of their hips, but hands placed on them, ready to pull. They were searching every apartment. A second form of Roy followed them in. They couldn’t go up to the balcony above. The Roy up there would see them.
Nate took in all their surroundings and focused on the architecture of the building. Below each balcony, built against the wall, was a two-foot wide ledge. About ten feet above that was the ledge beneath Carmen’s balcony.
“Nate,” Reggie whispered. He looked at her and realized she’d noticed the same thing.
“Can you make it?” he mouthed.
Reggie let go of him, grabbed the balcony bar, and hurdled both legs over it. A thin ridge in between siding panels was high enough for her to reach with her fingers while she sidled to her right, moving away from the balcony system. Nate’s heart pounded heavily, watching her scoot down the wall before crossing the balcony bar himself and following. His eyes didn’t leave her with each movement she made. Finally, she reached the underbelly of the neighboring balcony and slowed down. She reached up to grab one of the support bars underneath. When her right hand slipped from the condensation on the wall, Nate swore.
“Reggie!” he hissed, his blood pressure thumping harder than ever. He moved faster.
She managed to get her grip again and pressed her back against the wall. The shadow kept her completely out of site. He heard her shaking voice softly call out, “I’m fine.”
Nate slid the toes of his boots down the ledge, grabbing the thin crevice with his thick fingers. He managed to cross over the ledge easier than she did and leaned right next to her.
“You all right?” he whispered.
Reggie nodded and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall. Nate held tighter with his right hand and reached over to hers with his other. Her hands shook, but firmly gripped the crevice in the wall.
“Ms. Mata, do you mind if I search your apartment?” Roy’s voice spoke from above them. It was quieter now, but Nate could still make out the conversation well enough.
“Yes,” she stated bluntly.
“And why would that be?” Roy’s voice carried down, getting louder. Nate could tell Roy was now walking through the living room toward the open window. He held his breath, and pressed Reggie’s hand tighter against the wall.
“Because I’ve been hurting so much. It’s . . . it’s such a mess in here.”
“Is that what the blo
ody cloths are from?”
Reggie’s eyes flew open. The gauze and towels from cleaning up Ransley. They’d left them on the counter.
“I, uh . . . I hit my head,” Carmen answered, “. . . and it bled a lot.”
“May I see?”
“Shots. I gave myself shots,” she blurted.
Shots? They both looked at each other.
“Ostoprezine. So the gash would heal quicker.” Carmen followed up her outburst.
“Convenient.” His voice began to move away from the window.
If Carmen had ostoprezine injections, Ransley would be able to heal faster. Especially if her body was already miraculously speeding the process along. With injections, she might be back to normal faster than Nate thought.
Above, the pressure of answering all of Roy’s questions became too intense for Carmen. It was obvious in her voice; pausing frequently, broken words, and her tone rising in pitch. If Roy didn’t leave soon, Carmen would become too overwhelmed. She’d begin to revert.
Faintly, Nate heard Roy add, “May we check the bedroom?”
Carmen’s response was unintelligible, but when Roy’s voice became so distant Nate could no longer make out individual words, he knew he’d gone inside the bedroom.
“Nate . . .” Reggie whispered.
He hushed her and brushed his callused thumb over the soft skin of her hand. Roy couldn’t find Ransley. If he did, they were all dead. Including Carmen. Why had they done this? Let him inside. If they’d ignored him, yes, more would have returned, but it would have at least given them a chance to leave the city first.
The balcony door above them opened up and Reggie audibly sucked in a breath of air. The voices of guards, and yet another Roy, floated over to them.
“The balcony looks clear.”
“All right, let’s move onto the next.”
The balcony door closed and Nate finally took another breath. Once more, he heard movement above and Roy’s voice broke through. “When you return to work next week, you’ll be required to go through a thorough analysis. Do you understand?”
