[Perception 01.0] Perception

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[Perception 01.0] Perception Page 18

by Lee Strauss


  I’d leave her to rest in peace. And I should leave Zoe in peace, too. I needed to be strong and to get on with my life.

  Ma had also said that my father’s fight was not my fight. Maybe it wasn’t then, but it was now. My determination to pick up where my father had left off was renewed. Someone needed to fight for the rights of naturals and stop GAP exploitation. My grandfather had resisted as a scientist. My father had resisted as a preacher. I would resist, too.

  And I’d keep my bargain with Grant and stay away from Zoe.

  Despite having made this decision, I felt restless. I tried playing the guitar, but my agitation refused to ebb. I grabbed my helmet and slipped out the back door, pushing my scooter around toward the courtyard and the main road. I stopped half way to put on my helmet, a precaution against being recognized, when I saw a familiar profile.

  No way.

  Even with a hat and glasses, I’d know that face anywhere. Zoe Vanderveen stood not ten feet away in front of the church steps. Her head was bent back, and she was staring at the clock tower, her face tense with concentration.

  “Zoe?”

  She stepped back, startled.

  “It’s me, Noah. I saw you on the beach a couple weeks ago, remember?”

  She nodded her head slowly, removing her glasses. “I remember.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought your grandfather told you it wasn’t safe to go to the outside?”

  “I was curious.” She took a tentative step back.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I know, it’s just...”

  “Do you remember the church?”

  “Oh, no,” she said quickly. “Of course not. I’ve never been here before.”

  I felt slapped by her words. Vanderveen had done his job well.

  “Are you sure?”

  Her eyes narrowed, like she was surprised by my question. “Yes, I’m sure. I would know, wouldn’t I?”

  “I suppose.” I shifted my helmet into my other hand. “Would you like to go in? I could show you around.”

  Her cheeks flushed red, and she nibbled her lip, considering. “Um, no. I shouldn’t. Really, I’ve got to go. My boyfriend will be worried.”

  “Jackson?”

  She cocked her head. “Yes, do you know him?”

  The jerkwad didn’t care in the least that Zoe had been altered like this? The muscles in my face tightened as I nodded.

  “He hasn’t mentioned you.”

  “We’re not exactly friends. I wouldn’t tell him about me if I were you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Trust me. He wouldn’t be happy you were talking to me.”

  “I can talk to whomever I want.”

  I cracked a smile. At least this version of Zoe still had spunk.

  “Anyway, I really have to go. Nice seeing you again, Noah.” She blended into the crowd and headed over the pedestrian bridge.

  With my scooter in hand, there was no way I could go after her. My lips tugged up in a satisfied grin. I’d asked for a sign and I’d just gotten one.

  35

  My email inbox overflowed.

  Since I’d gone back to promoting the movement Down with Unfair GAP Policies with gusto, I was beginning to see a return on my efforts. My blog posts were garnering hundreds of comments and more than a thousand visits per day. I was putting a voice to what many people were thinking, and now they were starting to speak out, too.

  I answered the ones that needed a response, wrote and published another blog post and linked it to other sites with the same message.

  And there was something else.

  I cracked my knuckles. I tapped my fingers on the desktop. Rubbed my hands along my legs. Shifted my chair away, and then back to the table again.

  Don’t think about how wrong this is. I tapped the keyboard, and a text-message conversation appeared on the screen.

  Zoe and Jackson.

  I’d hacked into her ComRing—I’d learned a thing or two from Anthony over the years–I started reading.

  Jackson: I stopped by your house today, where were you? You need to keep your ComRing on.

  Zoe: I don’t have to tell you everything.

  I smirked at that.

  Jackson: You didn’t try to go outside again, did you?

  Zoe: I already promised you I wouldn’t do that again. Anyway, who made you my babysitter?

  Jackson: I’m just looking out for you.

  Zoe: I’m sorry for being snappy. It’s just these awful headaches.

  Jackson: Did you take your pills today?

  Zoe: Yes.

  Jackson: Are you still having those dreams?

  Zoe: I don’t want to talk about it.

  Jackson: Okay. Don’t forget the swim party tomorrow afternoon. I’ll pick you up at one.

  Zoe: I might be busy.

  Jackson: I talked to your parents. They said you were free.

  Zoe: Why are you talking to my parents?

  Jackson: Your father does work at the University. I saw him there. Does it matter?

  I shook my head. They had Zoe on a tight leash.

  Jackson: Zoe? All of our friends will be there. Could be skinny-dipping involved.

  My fingers made fists under the table.

  Zoe: You’re not actually convincing me.

  Jackson: I was joking. What else are you going to do? You keep complaining about being bored.

  Zoe: Okay. Fine. What beach? I’ll meet you there.

  I checked the time. I’d have to get moving. First stop: withdraw cash from Zoe’s account with my copy of her chip. I was counting on the fact that she wasn’t the type to monitor her statements and that her father wasn’t bothering either, now that it appeared she was under constant surveillance.

  Then I’d have to trade the scooter in for a used two-seater, solar-electric hybrid car. I knew a guy who’d still deal in cash.

  I sent Skye a text: I have a favor to ask. I’ll be by the house tomorrow afternoon.

  I spotted Zoe walking toward a group of GAPs–all catalogue ordered: blond, tall and fair. Those GAPs had no imagination.

  She wore a white sundress with green bikini straps tied around her neck and sunglasses on her face.

  A fire burned in a makeshift pit, and towels and beach chairs were circled around it. She laid her towel out and sat down.

  The sound bounced off the ocean, and I could hear them from my hiding spot in the shadows behind the brick restrooms.

  “Hey,” Jackson said, squatting down beside her. “You made it.” He bent forward to kiss her, and it was all I could do to keep from storming over and punching the snot out of him.

  Zoe turned her head last minute, so his kiss met her cheek. I couldn’t believe how happy that small act made me. It confirmed what I was about to do was the right thing.

  “I called you. I wish you’d answer me,” he said.

  “I had my ring off.”

  “Why?”

  “I was in the shower. Do I have to report my every move?”

  “Of course not. It’s just, I worry about you, Zo. You’ve had a big shock. We both have.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry for being so uptight lately.” She reached for his hand. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

  He smiled at her like the perfect boyfriend, but I could tell by her body language she didn’t trust him, even if she couldn’t remember why.

  Three girls exited the ocean and walked up to Zoe. One of the girls was close enough to drip water on her bare legs. She yelped, “Hey!”

  Another one settled on the towel next to Zoe. “Hey, Zoe, you’re missing all the fun.”

  Zoe smiled. “Hi, Charlotte. Yeah, sorry it took me a while to get here.”

  The girls chatted rapid-fire about clothes, boys and the latest celebrity scandal, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Zoe didn’t say much, and I wondered if it was because she didn’t care for the subject matter or if she didn’t remember the
details.

  Another girl, one I recognized from the transit pod the first day Zoe and I dared to go public in Sol City, waved flirtatiously at Jackson.

  “Hi, Jackson,” she said.

  Zoe squinted and looked confused. I wondered if Jackson had something going on the side with that chick, and it seemed Zoe was wondering, too. Her friend squirmed under her gaze then stood, wiping sand off her legs. “I’m going to the restroom. Anyone coming?” she said.

  The other girls jumped up, but Zoe looked unsure. I stepped further back into the shadows.

  Then she stood. “I’m going, too,” she said to Jackson.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Jackson, really. You don’t have to chaperone me to the restroom. I’m sure I’ll be okay between here and there.”

  He settled back into his towel. “Fine. I’ll be right here.”

  Zoe dragged her toes in the sand, obviously in no real hurry to get there. The door to the public facility was wide open and I could hear her friends talking about her.

  By the expression on Zoe’s face, she heard them, too.

  “Something’s really off about Zoe, lately.”

  “I know. She hasn’t been herself since her brother died.”

  “Honestly,” the cheater’s voice crackled through the air, “I don’t know why Jackson stays with her. She’s all pouty and solemn all the time. Pity, I guess. They broke up once, remember? I don’t know why he took her back after what she did.”

  Zoe sunk back around the corner looking like a lost puppy. She pressed against the outside wall, and waited until the girls left.

  This was my chance.

  “Zoe?”

  I stepped out from behind the trees. I pressed the cloth in my hand against her face, and she squirmed for a few seconds before slumping in my arms.

  “I’m sorry.”

  36

  Zoe groaned in the passenger seat of the car I’d bought the day before, her head leaning against the window. I pulled into our garage, moved quickly to the passenger door and carefully scooped her up into my arms.

  “Noah?” Skye’s eyes widened in concern as I carried Zoe inside. “Is she sick?”

  I carried her to the sofa and laid her down gently. “Skye, you’re not going to like what I’m about to ask you to do, but I’m begging you to trust me.”

  “What is it? What’s going on?”

  “I need you to remove the chip from her hand. Now.”

  “Are you out of your mind? This is Zoe Vanderveen!”

  “I know who she is. Please, she’s in trouble.”

  “With who? And wouldn’t her own family be able to help her?”

  “Her family’s the danger, Skye. The Senator has messed with her head, stolen her memories. We need to help her get away from him.”

  “What? Stolen her memories? Are you sure?”

  “I’m very sure.”

  Wrinkles formed on Skye’s forehead. “Noah, this is so illegal.”

  “I’m aware of that. But what they’re doing to her is immoral.”

  Zoe groaned, her eyelids fluttering.

  “Do you have something to keep her out?” I said.

  Skye went to our mother’s old bedroom, hers now, and returned with a medical bag. “I keep this handy for emergencies.”

  She tapped a pill from a jar into her hand. I helped her prop Zoe up, and she pushed the pill down Zoe’s throat, assisting her with a sip of water.

  “That should keep her out for a few hours.” Skye lifted Zoe’s hand and felt the fleshy part for the chip. Her eyes questioned me. “I don’t know.”

  “I realize this is extreme, but it’s life or death. Please, Skye. Once they confirm she’s missing, they’ll track her here. We need to remove the chip and destroy it before that happens.”

  Skye threw her hands in the air in defeat. Then she went to work, moving quickly and professionally. After donning plastic gloves, she applied a local anesthetic to Zoe’s hand. She removed a sterilized scalpel from a pre-packaged sleeve, and with a steady hand, she made a small incision. She mopped up the blood that spurted out with gauze then plucked the chip out with a pair of sterilized tweezers.

  Then she placed it in my open palm.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do.” I took the chip outside to the garage where we kept a few tools. I used the hammer to crush the chip into the sidewalk. “That’s for you, Senator.”

  When I got back to Skye in the living room, she was finishing up the last stitch. She bandaged the incision with gauze and medical tape.

  “Okay, it’s done. You should probably get out of here before the boys get home from school.”

  I picked up Zoe’s limp body.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Skye.”

  “That’s true. Just promise to visit me if I end up in jail.” She held the door open. “Where are you going?”

  I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  37

  I snapped to attention as Zoe grabbed her head and moaned. She’d slept fitfully on the cabin sofa overnight. Her arm reached over to the side grasping at air, like she was expecting to find something there.

  Her eyes popped open and moved slowly around the room. Instead of her deluxe bedroom, she saw wood-framed walls, an unused wood stove in the corner, a simple table set for two people. Her nose wiggled. The room smelled like the bacon and eggs I’d prepared for breakfast.

  She sat up carefully and her eyes settled on me.

  “Where am I?”

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Noah?” Her eyes fluttered as she tried to make sense of things. “Why am I here? Did I spend the night?” She glanced down at her clothes and patted at the dress and bikini she had on from the day before.

  I brought the frying pan over to the table and dished scrambled eggs and bacon onto each plate. I didn’t answer her questions. “Hungry?”

  “I have a splitting headache. I need my pills.”

  I placed the empty frying pan on the stovetop, and picked up a pill jar. “Tylenol.”

  “No, my prescription pills.”

  “You don’t need those. Take these.”

  She reached with her right hand, then pulled back. “Ow.” She noticed the bandage wrapped around her palm. “Did I hurt myself? What happened last night?

  “Just take a couple Tylenol, and I’ll explain everything over breakfast.”

  “Did you kidnap me?”

  I appealed to her gently. “Let’s eat first.”

  Zoe popped the pills, then examined her bandaged hand.

  Her face stretched out with fear. “You removed my chip?”

  “It was a necessary evil.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said, gripping the sofa with her good hand.

  I sat beside her, keeping to one end. She curled her legs up and pulled back as far away from me as she could. I hated how frightened she was of me.

  Her voice shook when she said, “I need an explanation.”

  “Okay,” I said, “but it’s going to sound crazy. I had to take your chip out. Otherwise they would have found us.”

  “Who?”

  “Your grandfather and his men.”

  “Of course they’d want to find me. The question is why have you taken me?”

  “You’re in danger.”

  She looked at me like I’d just stated the obvious, but I was the one she thought was the danger.

  “Four weeks ago, your brother died,” I said.

  “Did you have something to do with that?”

  “No. No, I didn’t. You wanted to know what happened to him. You asked me to help.”

  “I asked you? Why would I do that?”

  “Because Liam had been found in L.A. and the Sol City authorities weren’t answering your questions to your satisfaction. You knew me; I helped my mother when she worked for your family. I lived in L.A., and you needed someone who knew
his way around.”

  She coddled her injured hand on her lap. “I don’t remember this. Why wouldn’t I remember this?”

  “They did something to you; erased your memories. I’m hoping I can help you to remember.”

  She glanced up at me. “So, if this is true, what did we find?”

  “Your grandfather had funded an experiment, advanced cyborg studies, and Liam led it. They didn’t want the university or federal authorities to know what they were doing because they were breaking ethics codes. That’s why they needed a lab outside Sol City.”

  Zoe shook her head then put her hands to her temples as if the movement caused her pain. “What are you saying?” she said. “The experiment went wrong? I was told he got in with a bad crowd and was killed by some kid.”

  I grimaced. “He wasn’t killed by a kid from L.A. A member of his own team sabotaged the effort, accidentally killing Liam in the process.”

  “Who’d do that?”

  “Mitchell Redding.”

  “I don’t know that name.”

  I let out a frustrated breath. “He and Jackson were helping with the experiment. Mitchell was afraid it might actually work and killed the power.”

  “Jackson? My boyfriend?”

  I scowled at that description. “He’s not your boyfriend, I’m... never mind. Forget it.”

  “You’re what? Are you saying you’re my boyfriend? I don’t even know you.”

  She stared at me like I was psychotic. “Do you want money?”

  “What?”

  “A ransom. Is that why you kidnapped me? You must know my family is very wealthy. They will pay whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

  Her words stabbed me. “Zoe, I’d never hurt you.”

  She lifted her bandaged hand. “What do you call this?”

  “Tough love. Now let’s eat. I know you must be hungry.”

  “Okay,” she said cautiously, “but I need to use the bathroom first.”

  I pointed to a room at the back and followed her in case she got it in her head to rush out the back door instead. She stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. Good thing the room didn’t have a window. Just a shower, toilet and small sink. Nothing modern or fancy.

 

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