by J. Kowallis
I look at the information Carmen’s brought up and look closely. There are so many files. So much data. I don’t know how we’ll make it through everything. Carmen moves her hand across the screen, pushing files to the side. Again, she moves them, and a word grabs my attention.
Her hand waves to the side again and I grab her wrist. “Wait. Go back. There was something I recognized.”
She pulls the files back, looking curiously at me. I scan the information, looking for what had been so familiar. Enertia. “That's it.” I point to the file. “Open that up.”
Carmen selects the file and zooms in. Inside are what looks like a billion more files, but they’re organized differently.
“What is this?” Roy asks. “What’s Enertia?”
“It was in Lobb’s book. The one Carmen owns. Nate and I were reading it, and we saw this word. It was something . . . he talked about briefly. Carmen, can we find out what it was?”
She nods and begins to sort through the files. When she gasps my skin floods with goose bumps. “What?”
“It’s your name.” She points to a research file and sure enough, one of the documents mentions my name. Not only my name, Reggie’s too.
I breathe. “I know what Enertia is.”
“It’s us, isn’t it?” Roy says before I can complete my thought.
I nod. “Everything about who we are . . . is in these files.”
Roy reaches out to a flat square disc on the desk and inserts it into the white panel Carmen had waved her gloved hand over to turn on the projections. The moment he does, the information on Carmen’s screen duplicates onto his disk and he moves it around to the massive screens on the wall. By touching the disk in his hands and pointing it at the screens, the mirrored files appear in front of him. After setting the disk back on the desk, his own hands start to fly, moving files aside, opening up every research annotation, looking for anything he can get his eyes on.
I look back to Carmen opening up one of the main files and four images appear on the screen. Four children. Without even reading their names, I know who they are. The one on the far right is myself. My dark eyes are wide and searching, but sunken behind dark circles. My dark hair is long and pulled back into a ponytail. I was a toddler.
“It’s me.” My fingers reach up to touch the young face and the projection and it shimmers at my touch. I look to the picture beside me. The face next to mine is Roy’s. Silvery blue eyes, with a look that makes me smirk. Even as a kid, I can see he’s not taking anything seriously.
My eyes pass over Reggie’s when I notice the fourth face. The first in the line-up. Another little boy. His eyes are a rich brown, like mine, and wide-set. His brown hair is shaved close to his square head. The information attached to his picture states his name and age. Like the rest of us, he has a single name. Roman. He’s the oldest. Birthdates, names, weights, and other personal information is listed beneath each image. Roy and I were three at this point in time, Reggie was five, and Roman—six. In my head, I calculate how old we are.
I’m twenty-three. Roy too. Reggie’s twenty-five.
Behind me, Roy mumbles under his breath, running furiously through the files. He swipes his hand across the screen again and punches in a new file. It pops up in front of him and his keeps scanning. My eyes return to the screen in front of me. I keep looking in to the eyes of all of us. Young children. Trapped expressions. Still, Reggie’s steel eyes cut into me like they do now—as if she knows something I don’t. Roy, with his hair cut so short, it doesn’t even look like him. And Roman . . . where is he?
“What do you know about Roman?” Carmen turns to me.
“Nothing. I’ve never heard of him before. Looks like he was the first by only a couple years. Doesn’t say anything about our abilities though, so we don’t even know what he can do. Or . . .” I feel my chest tighten and I move around to the other side of the projection, “if he’s still alive. If he was the first, there’s a good chance he could have been a failure. They may have gotten rid of him. I hope he’s all right. He’s been out there alone like us, if he’s still alive.”
“Who cares?” Roy mutters.
I look back to Roy. He pops open a file and sorts through all the information. It’s Reggie’s. Suddenly, his hands stop moving. He stares at the screen and swallows. He takes a few steps to the right and pulls open another file. As he starts to look through it, I notice where he’s stopped in Reggie’s file. It’s the fifth page of information. About half of the way down.
Paternal Donor: Cragon Masters
Maternal Donor: A
I suddenly realize why he’s been searching so frantically. He slides his own files across, looking for the same information. When he stops on the right page, I freeze. Stated clearly, half way down are his “parents.”
Paternal Donor: Cragon Masters
Maternal Donor: A
They’re brother and sister. Reggie and Roy. Somehow I already knew it. It was their eyes. Seeing this makes my stomach twist in knots. If they’re siblings, what . . . .
Roy sweeps his file away and pulls another open. My breath catches in my throat. My name and information litter the page. He scrolls down farther.
Paternal Donor: Martin Lobb
Maternal Donor: B
Roy’s eyes look at me through the projection, his mouth closes. He doesn’t care about Roman’s parents. He didn’t even care about Reggie’s. I feel my chest may collapse. My lips curl down and I try to hold my tears inside.
He walks through the projection and it shimmers as he disturbs it. The look in his face; the intensity. Fear shocks me—the memories of his hands beating into me. The pain in my chest.
It only takes him three steps to close the space between us.
The moment he reaches me, his fingers wrap beneath my jaw, cradling my face. I step back. He pulls me forward again. His lips collide with mine and I jolt at the force. I can’t be afraid anymore. I won’t let The Public take this moment from me. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. All I want is to be closer to him. He’s holding me, kissing me, but it’s still not close enough. I travel my fingers up his neck and into his hair. It’s still lightly damp and it curls around my fingers. I catch my breath when Roy’s hands grab my hips and pull me closer.
His head ducks back and my eyes open, tears still falling down my face.
“I’m so glad we’re not family.”
My voice shakes. “Me too.”
“Ransley, it was you.”
“What do you mean?”
Roy rests his forehead on mine. He breathes in and out and I love the feel of the warmth on my face. I love the feel of his hands pressing into the small of my back. “I may have imagined it, but I swear it was real. There’s this memory I have. You came to me, and asked me to come with you. I barely remember it, but you said—” he pauses, “you loved me. Or that you thought you could. That’s why I came back. I had to come back for you.”
My eyes widen and I pull back so I can see him. “You remember?”
Roy manages a crooked smile. “It was real then? I knew you’d said it. When I woke up I wanted to ask you about it, but I wasn’t sure if . . . I thought it’d imagined it all.”
“I wasn’t sure I wanted you to remember. That’s the only reason I didn’t—”
“Are you saying you didn’t mean it?” His eyebrows drop.
I shake my head. “No, I meant it. It just scared me to admit it.”
Roy leans down to kiss me again. Slow and lingering. I enjoy every move of his mouth passing over my lips. The feeling of his fingers playing with the short hairs on the nape of my neck, and the forceful pull of his other hand on my waist—I keep trying to remember it all, but with each new kiss I feel overwhelmed—panic tingling down my spine.
“Please tell me I did it better this time,” he finally says to me.
“This time?”
Roy clears his throat, and the images I’ve been trying to swallow regurgitate into my memory. The ni
ght he’d nearly killed me, he’d kissed me. My skin burned. His touch made my heart explode within my chest. I tried to kill him, and he almost succeeded what I’d started.
“Roy, that night never happened.”
He nods. “It did, though. I was furious.”
“But you weren’t right. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
He shakes his head. “I may not have been thinking straight. But I was angry. I could have killed you.” His cheeks drain white and he grasps my face. “I wanted to kill you more than anything in this world.”
The memories constrict my breathing and my hands start to shake. “No. It was the Nexis. Not you. I know you.” The same words I’ve tried to convince myself of. I want to be held by him, but my body still reacts to him in a way I hate. Somewhere deep inside, my trust struggles with him.
Carmen’s small voice breaks through us and I only pull away from Roy’s hands enough to turn and see her. “Something happened.”
The screens fritz and pop. The images on the projection are scrambled and I can’t read a single thing. “What happened?” I finally let go of Roy.
“I opened up the main system file and every . . . everything went crazy.”
“Must be a failsafe,” Roy says, clearing his throat. “What were you able to find out?”
“Not much,” her voice trembles in panic, and she pulls a small flat square out of one of the slots. Only about a quarter inch in diameter. “But I got most of it downloaded.”
―NATE―
Nate lowered his gun and took another step ahead of Reggie. He was only ten feet from Lobb now, and the man dared him. Nate didn’t want to play his games, and he knew he’d regret knowing.
He also knew he’d regret not knowing.
“What information are you talking about, Lobb?”
The man took a deep breath, and removed his hands from his pockets. “Well, since I’m going to be such a good sport, I’ll give you a hint. You and Reggie, I know you . . . think you’re in love.”
Reggie glances at me. It’s the closest she’s come to admitting anything.
“But, Roydon . . . and Ransley? I made them for each other. They were meant to connect on a deeper level than normal people.” He leaned closer to Nate. That one movement registered strongly in Nate’s mind. All it would take was two steps. He could have his thumbs thrust into Lobb’s eye sockets—if the man were actually there.
The hologram spoke again. “Here’s the spoiler . . . Reggie’s design isn’t any different than theirs.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. No different? So, she has a partner? He stepped forward. “You’re lying.”
“Like I lied about Roy and Ransley being alive?” he sneers. “You know, I’m getting the feeling you don’t trust me, Nate. That hurts.”
Nate glared at him, Reggie stood silent.
Lobb itched his nose. “In fact, you’re getting in the way. I think I’ve had enough.” He pulled a power-gun out of thin air and pointed it directly at Nate’s chest. Before he could react, Reggie lunged.
“You son-of-a . . .” her voice growled.
She ran at the projection of Lobb. The hologram disappeared, a real gun clattering to the ground. Like a knife slicing through butter, a glass panel shot up from the floor cutting Nate off from Reggie.
He slung his weapon over his shoulder and ran toward the pane. Reggie’s eyes twisted danced around, panicking and looking at her surroundings. Behind her was a dead end, and she couldn’t go anywhere.
“Reggie!” Nate slammed his fist against the pane. It felt like hitting five-foot thick steel. He reached around for the gun and battered its end into the glass. It bounced off, not making a single mark. Again and again the gun crashed against the glass. The more it hit, the more the gun began to dent. He threw the gun to the floor.
Reggie tried to scream to him, but he couldn’t hear a word she said. It was too thick. His eyes scanned the frame of the pane. It reached the ceiling, and touched the walls.
“Reggie!” He smacked his hand against the glass again. “Check the sides! Look for a panel!” he yelled at her.
What? she mouthed . . . or screamed back, he couldn’t tell.
Nate pointed to the sides and then outlined a square on the panel with the tip of his finger. “Look. For. A. Panel.” He mouthed carefully, yelling even louder.
Reggie’s face fell, but she didn’t move. She stared back at him, hurt digging into her features. As if she knew this was going to happen.
She knew . . . .
No, she wasn’t doing this to him again.
Behind the glass, he started to see a thick vapor of smoke starting to descend on Reggie.
“No,” he breathed. “No, no, no, NO!” He smashed his fist against the panel and ran to meet Reggie. She looked at him and he motioned to the ceiling above her. She did nothing. Simply looked at him, mouthing words.
I do. She nodded. I do love you.
“Reggie!” he yelled again.
Whether she heard him or not, she sunk to the floor. She was having a difficult time breathing. She leaned up against the glass.
“Stay with me, Reg . . .” he whispered. He crouched down on the floor by her and placed his hand on the glass. She was getting tired. Slowly, she placed her fingertip in the center of his palm and it slowly dragged down the glass, leaving behind a streak of her body oil.
“Reg, stay awake.”
Her eyes flitted closed once. Then jerked open for a split second to look at him again.
“Reggie . . . I love you. Please don’t . . .” he shook his head. He had to make sure she saw him say it. “Dammit. I love you.”
She couldn’t hear him—he knew that—but she didn’t even see him. Her eyes fell closed again, the vapor surrounding her. A movement from behind the glass, made Nate’s head jerk. Off to the left side a door slid open—one neither of them had seen. Two guards walked into Reggie’s side of the hallway, equipped with masks, and moved for her body.
“Don’t you dare!” Nate bellowed. “Don’t you dare take her, you assholes!”
The guards, unaffected by his constant punches into the glass and his cursing, picked up her body. One of them looked at him briefly. Without any other acknowledgment, took her through the doorway, leading to another hall, and the door slid closed again.
“No! NO, NO!” Nate hit the glass. Lifting the gun from the floor, he shouldered the dented gun butt against his armpit and started firing. The bullets hit the glass with explosions. Each one blasting against the partition like clods of dry dirt, and leaving behind scorch marks.
She was gone. She was gone, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them.
―ROYDON―
The elevator stops at the basement floor and opens up for us. Everything is as we left it, with the bodies of charbroiled guards and barely-recognizable human remains.
“I don’t know where he is . . .” Carmen states out loud.
“You don’t know where who is?” a voice speaks up. A man in a guard uniform steps out from one of the secluded rooms away from the main pod area and I raise my power-gun.
Ransley puts her hand on my arm and presses down. “Israel,” she says, looking at him. I have no clue who he is, but Ransley does, and she trusts him.
“You sure did what you said you would. I don’t think I imagined this many bodies.” He scratches his forehead and looks around at the corpses by his feet.
Israel lifts his hand. Inside his grasp is a small round bubble. With a toss, the bubble object lands in Ransley’s hand. “I’ve only got about five hundred of these. They’ll need to be placed strategically around the city when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Israel.”
“I’d offer to stay and help, but—”
“We made an agreement. You’re done. Besides, I never want to see your ugly mug again.”
Israel nods, smiling at her. “The feeling’s mutual.” His feet lift and he steps over each body coming closer to us. After a final nod, he walks by,
leaving us alone in the room. Three living bodies and hundreds of smoking corpses.
“Where is he?” Carmen asks again.
“What is she asking about?” I turn to Ransley.
Ransley’s attention is turned from Israel’s retreating form. “Carmen. Who are you looking for?”
“I’ve been looking for him. I wonder . . . I don’t know where he went.”
“Who?” Ransley grills her again.
“Dr. Folland. Something . . . something happened. To him. I don’t remember. Why can’t I remember?”
Of course. That Jimmie. What I wouldn’t give to end him.
I run my hand through my hair and look at her. “We’ll find him. Let’s get you taken care of first. If we’re going to put this city right, we’re going to need you. All right?”
Carmen nods and she leads us to a second segregated room. Inside, two of the pods have people inside. Two young women jerk painfully around in the fluid. I remember it all. The twisting bones, the regenerating skin and muscle. It was hell. Reggie lifts a gun up, ready to shoot the crap out of the command panels when Carmen steps in front of her.
“No! You’ll kill them. Come with me.”
She walks into the separate control room and starts to fiddle with the projection screen, moving data aside, altering, changing . . . but yet, I understand all of it. She’s only working on changing the programming one pod at a time. I hurry around to her other side and start to work on the second.
“You know what to do?” she asks hesitantly.
“Surprisingly . . . yes.”
“How?” Ransley asks from the doorway.
“I just do.” I move my hands around, stopping certain processes and slowing others down. It takes ten minutes for us to stop the current commands and suspend the changes in the women.
“All right, we have to reintroduce their removed sections—” Carmen says.
“No.” I grab her wrist. “You first. Ransley will guide you back.”
Carmen’s eyes go wide and she swallows hard. “I don't know. Maybe it won’t work.”
“Are you afraid?”
