Pure

Home > Other > Pure > Page 2
Pure Page 2

by Karen Krossing


  “I made it to level fifteen once,” the guy said, actually proud. His bluish-pink lips were thick and freckles peppered his pale skin.

  “That’s pure! I didn’t know it went past level five! Did it actually hurt you?”

  The waiter reached for the medic’s hands but he’d wrapped them in a napkin then shoved them under the table next to his legs, which were — tiny! I stared amazed, at the shriveled limbs. Compared to the rest of his build, they were thin, awkward sticks.

  That was when I noticed the wheelchair pushed in under the table. I couldn’t believe it! I’d never seen one up close. A medic in a wheelchair? What was wrong with him? Purity had never let in anyone like him.

  “It only hurt a bit.” The medic shrugged and gazed blankly into his drink, as if he wanted the waiter to leave.

  My stomach was twisting with hunger pains. Even the greasy smell coming from the cafe was agony.

  The waiter eyed the game as he set the empty glasses on his tray, one at a time. “I could never get into Blass.”

  Why would you want to?

  “It’s not for everyone.” The medic gripped his fingers inside the napkin. His orange-red hair hung over his eyes like a barrier. He turned from the waiter, who had finally loaded his tray.

  I flagged him down.

  “I’m starving. I’ve got to eat.” Maybe I was rude but the waiter didn’t seem to mind. I ordered a spiced soy-krill sandwich, a large tossed vamgula salad, watercress soup, and two glasses of water.

  “Hope you’re hungry.” The waiter shook his head as he tapped my order into his wrist slate.

  When he left, I rolled my head in slow circles, trying to ease the burning in my shoulder muscles, sore from carrying gear. The branches of a pine tree offered welcome shade, although I was still roasting. At least I didn’t live farther south. The heatwaves there killed thousands every year.

  With the ever-thinning ozone layer, the climate had been getting worse every year, even up north in Dawn. There had been freak rains, deadly dry spells, and snow in Africa once. When the energy freeze abruptly halted the glory days of careless consumption, fossil fuels became forbidden, and the scramble for new energy began. Now, it was harder to escape the increasing heat and the sun’s blistering rays. I was surprised that Nature’s Way Cafe could find the energy to cool its air, but I was sure it brought in more customers.

  The metal fence around the patio was woven with real twigs and artificial leaves. Hardly natural. I stared out over the fence to the commons, where I’d just sketched that freakish woman. Oh, Mur, why did this happen to me?

  Because you know how. Her voice was a gust of air through me.

  Know how to what?

  Draw into someone.

  Is that what I did?

  Yes.

  Then someone in a gray-blue Academy uniform took a seat beside me.

  “Jonah.”

  Even in a uniform, Jonah was delicious. I leaned toward him and inhaled his scent, finally feeling safe.

  “I got your transmit.” His voice rumbled, like the purr of a giant cat. “What’s wrong?”

  He wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head between my two high braids.

  “This disturbed woman,” I began, “at the commons. She…”

  “You missed class? I hope no one reports it.”

  “Forget about class, Jonah. Listen. The strangest thing happened.”

  “What?” Jonah twirled the tip of my braid through his fingers.

  “I sketched a woman and… I can’t describe it.”

  He lifted my chin to see my face, making me feel like a little kid who would be taken care of. His skin gleamed bronze, his teeth were startlingly white, and his eyes soothed me.

  “Try,” he said.

  I pulled away, digging deep for the words. “Until now I’ve only sketched a reflection of people. Like in a mirror. But I drew this woman from the inside out. It was so pure!”

  Jonah leaned closer, his eyes puzzled, searching. I was lucky I’d found him. He was the only one who tried to understand me. I reached into my bag, took out my slate, and showed him the sketch.

  Jonah made a face. “Nice.”

  “I know. It’s bizarre, but it’s her. I mean, I love how I captured her, but that’s not all. Afterward, I’d changed her. It’s impossible, but the sunspots that had been on her hands and neck were gone.”

  “Gone? You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.” I ignored my growling stomach, and the tight knot growing there. “But then she called me…” Dare I say it? “… skidge.” I glanced quickly at Jonah for his reaction. “She said that Purity would get me.”

  “What would Purity want with you?” He rubbed my arm, an amused smile on his lips.

  “I know.” I sighed with relief. “But the sunspots?”

  “You must have imagined them.”

  “How could I imagine that?”

  “I don’t know, but a portrait can’t change a person.”

  “I didn’t say the portrait changed her. I changed her. It’s like I… healed her.”

  “You healed her?” Jonah laughed. “Do you know how hard it is to get rid of those sunspots?”

  “I know.” The idea was crazy. What was I saying?

  “Remember when Jobey Mendleson got that improved sensory input package? His senses got so overloaded that he begged everyone to whisper and wouldn’t eat anything spicier than bread until it wore off.”

  “What do you mean? You think I’ve had some kind of boost?”

  Boosts were Purity’s way of offering medical improvements without gen-eng, which permanently altered DNA. With boosts, you could get sensory enhancement, intelligence supplements, and other types, but they were either temporary or useless. Still, many people went for them, although I hadn’t bothered.

  “If you did, you didn’t need to. You’re already perfect.”

  I shook my head, but I had to smile. I knew he was distracting me with compliments, trying to ease my worries. Maybe he was right; maybe the sunspots had never been there. At least that’s what I could tell Purity, if they came asking.

  My stomach grumbled.

  “Where’s my sandwich? I’m going to faint if I don’t eat soon.” I glanced around for the waiter and caught the medic watching us. How much had he heard? Would he think I was skidge, too?

  “A sandwich? That sure isn’t a zero-residue food,” Jonah teased.

  The new zero-residue foods were all the rage with people who wanted to pretend they were just machines that didn’t need to digest. No waste products. Just efficient food energy in a tasteless bar.

  The medic looked away, still pouting. Maybe he hadn’t been listening. I put on a smile for Jonah; I didn’t want to make him endure any more of my worries. “I’m just an inefficient girl who is ravenously hungry for real food — waste and all.”

  Jonah wrinkled his nose in pretend disgust. Then he wound his arms around me and kissed my cheek. “That’s what I like about you. You’re a real traditional girl.”

  “Sure I am.” I laughed and Jonah did too, showing the one tooth that stuck out slightly onto his lip. Jonah got annoyed when I pointed it out, so I resisted the temptation to touch it.

  The waiter arrived with my food piled high and I untangled from Jonah. As Jonah ordered a drink, I noticed the medic sneaking looks at me. What had he heard? I worried again. Yet even with his eyes on me, I couldn’t help but shovel great forkfuls of salad into my mouth and bite into the sandwich with gusto. The vinegary tang of the dressing and the salt of the sandwich made me thirsty. I gulped back half a glass of water.

  Jonah told me his news while I ate. He had been chosen to work in the science labs at our school — the Academy of Intelligence. The Academy was Dawn’s school for the unlucky few who’d shown superior talent. It was no reward — long school days with grueling assignments and weekend classes — yet Jonah never tired of it, and he couldn’t wait to take on this new work. His experiments had to do with a spray-o
n second skin for protection against radiation. Maybe it would lead to a posting at the school. I listened, but the woman’s words haunted me. Are you skidge? Purity will be after you.

  Just as I was finishing the last of the sandwich, I noticed two officers in Purity uniforms searching the café. The same ones from the commons! I froze in mid-chew. That woman must have sent them to get me!

  “Jonah!” I mumbled through my food. “Look!”

  Jonah saw them and his eyes grew wide. I wanted to run and hide, but Jonah grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

  “It’s all right. They can’t be here for you.” Yet his eyes were worried.

  I tried not to pull away. Purity held a brutal control over anyone with impure DNA, but those of us who were pure could still be questioned, held, and imprisoned for any supposed imperfections. It didn’t take much.

  I willed myself to be small enough to disappear. The Purity officers stopped to talk to the waiter at the inside counter. One officer was a tall, muscular man and the other was a smaller woman, her hair pulled back from her face and tucked under her hat. The man looked out through the window onto the patio at the guy with the Blass game. In seconds, he was beside him.

  The officer nodded through the window at his partner, who was watching from inside the cafe. Then he said sternly, “Why did you run off?”

  I let out a sigh. My muscles loosened. Of course they didn’t want me. They wanted this guy. I should have known. Why would a medic be in a wheelchair? He must have escaped from a medical unit, or even Detention Block. Maybe he was dangerous. Maybe he’d snuck in from the Beyond and was infecting us right now. I’d been sitting alone with him, only two tables between us.

  “Now, you know I can’t run anywhere,” the guy answered, awkwardly grabbing his game off the table with his hands still wrapped in the napkin. “I was just waiting here for you to pick me up.”

  How could he talk to a Purity officer that way? I waited for something terrible to happen, but the officer just seized the back of his wheelchair.

  “Do you think he’s skidge?” Jonah whispered, sneering at the game junky in his wheelchair. Jonah’s top lip curled up in one corner, and for a moment he looked disagreeable, even unlikable.

  I let go of Jonah’s hand, which I’d been squeezing tightly. The guy must be some gen-eng experiment gone wrong. A good reason to be afraid of him. But the Purity officer had handled him in an easy way. No swarm and tackle; just a conversation. Maybe he wasn’t dangerous.

  “I don’t know.” I tried not to gape at them.

  The waiter crept outside to watch. Others were peering through the cafe windows.

  Then the woman officer came striding onto the patio, talking into a pocket slate in a rough, gravelly voice.

  “Rylant here. We’ve got him. Repeat. We’ve got him.” Her mouth was a hard line, her chin high, and her eyes as sharp as darts.

  The male officer began to maneuver the wheelchair around the tables and tree trunks with expert precision.

  The guy scowled. “I can steer myself.”

  He unwrapped his injured hands, which were still bleeding slightly. Then he flicked a switch on the arm of his wheelchair and rolled the steering ball under his palm to direct the chair through the patio. The Purity officer retrieved the bloodied napkin, then followed him. I began to breathe easier. Then, just as they were about to leave, the guy in the wheelchair turned sideways and waved to us. What was he doing? I felt my cheeks redden.

  The Purity officers paused to glance back suspiciously. Don’t breathe, I thought. Rylant stabbed us with her eyes, as if she could see inside us. I couldn’t look away. Were we next?

  But she must have decided that we were no threat, because she nodded to her partner, then moments later, they were through the cafe and gone.

  “Why did he do that?” Jonah’s voice was loud and angry. “They might have thought we were with him. We could have been taken in for cleansing.”

  I released the air I’d been holding. Cleansing — I’d heard they rubbed you raw to remove any traces of impure DNA. My skin crawled. Yet for some strange reason, as I stared after that guy, I wished that I’d had the nerve to wave back.

  mother

  I woke to first light, still tired, the hint of a half-forgotten dream teasing me. I’d dreamed of letters, black on a white paper, that were too large to read. Like I was seeing them under a magnifying glass. Fuzzy edges of type. The fibers of the paper mashed together. Too close to read. Too close to understand. I’d tried to zoom out, to shift my head back, or to adjust a lever that would somehow bring the letters into focus. I’d called for Mur to help, but the message, if any, had remained blurred.

  For days I’d dragged myself around — since I’d drawn that woman’s portrait in the commons. I would fall asleep early, then wake before morning, sweating, dizzy, and hungry, but still exhausted. Only drawing set me free — gave me strength, energy. Running was the next best thing.

  I made myself rise with the sun, forcing one foot in front of the other. Outside, the morning air smelled of rich earth, although the heat of the day would soon burn the sweetness into festering damp. I sprinted out into the forest, my bare feet thudding the dirt trail, jarring me with each step. The spiky evergreens were an emerald blur. The earth was firm under my feet. The trees swayed peacefully. If only I could outrun this pressure inside my chest. If only the wild forest could tame my fears.

  Every day I’d waited for Purity to accuse me, to attack me with questions. That woman must have reported me. Was Purity watching? Would they confuse me with skidge? I felt eyes on me wherever I went.

  I couldn’t have healed that woman. It was impossible. Jonah had convinced me that I’d imagined her sunspots, but later, alone, I knew I had just let him persuade me. I’d seen it. The sunspots were there, and then they were gone. I was almost too scared to draw again.

  I picked up my pace. The wind rushed over my body as if I were flying far from Dawn, from Purity, from everyone. If Purity were going to investigate me, they’d have to catch me first.

  The run made me breathless, left my head still spinning. I sprinted out of the forest too fast and back onto the streets of Dawn. Back to cruel reality. My heart pounded faster. The trim grass parallel to the street was wet with dew. I slowed my pace. My shoes would have had a better grip, but bare feet on the earth helped me feel solid.

  As I jogged past boring, identical housing units, an ache in my side forced me to slow even more. My mouth tasted sour and my breath came in gasps. I was weaker than a slug.

  I stopped running as I neared my own unit with its bushes forced into annoying, neat shapes by Mother. Birds chirped and twittered across the street in the forest. Soon the heat of the day would silence them. Pacing around on the small patch of grass, I willed my heart to slow and my legs to stop trembling. If only running could end this weakness — and the feeling that Purity might come for me at any moment.

  Come on, I thought. You know you’re pure.

  My last medical scan — could it have had some strange affect on me? Had I become skidge without knowing it? No, that was impossible.

  Yet an image stuck in my mind, like a nagging voice: the woman’s healed hands and neck. How could I explain them?

  I bent at the waist and stretched the back of my legs. Painful but good. I held the stretch and tried to breathe evenly.

  The grass was sparse by the pines near me where the fallen needles had destroyed almost all life. But poking through the brown layer of needles were green sprigs of lifewort. Determined things.

  At least I’d discovered a new sketching technique. Drawing intuitively, with my eyes closed. Exciting. Intriguing. Mur had something to do with that, and I did want to try it again, as long as nothing strange happened.

  I finished stretching and headed in, my rubbery legs protesting every movement.

  It was no cooler inside. As I shut the door, I could hear the announcer for the New North Report. From the hall I saw Dad in the front room, short and
squat on the couch, a slate in hand. He was watching the large display screen while reading and making notes, the sunlight reflecting off the rounded sheen of his head.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He glanced at me. Crumbs littered the table in front of him. “Lenni, did you get your assignment done on the colonization of Mars? And what about your robotics work? How’s that coming?”

  “Fine. Everything’s fine.” He didn’t ask about me, just my Academy work.

  “Keeping up, are you? Good. You know, I used to run for ninety minutes before dawn.”

  “So you’ve told me.” Not that anyone could tell, from your paunch.

  “Sorry, I guess you knew that.” He regarded me with a quizzical look. “Did you change something? You look different somehow….”

  “Not much new.” Just sucked dry, drained, and left in the sun too long. Nothing to worry about, I wanted to say. Oh, yeah, Dad, and Purity’s about to take me in.

  Then the screen changed and distracted him.

  “I have always argued that genetic engineering denies the natural order of things,” said a male voice from the New North Report. “Someday we’ll deeply regret it. Because the more we select for a particular trait, the more we counter-select other traits. And we can’t measure this relationship. This is the case with life weed.”

  Dad snorted. “Lifewort,” he corrected.

  I wiped my feet, leaving brown smears on the mat to infuriate Mother. A petty satisfaction, but well worth it.

  “Lifeweed was created by Dawn’s own GrowTech to survive its enemies by using natural mechanisms,” continued the voice.

  GrowTech. The reporter was talking about Dad’s company. I eased into the room so I could see the screen better. A stern man with graying hair was talking. Dad was frowning.

  “But what it means for humans is that it’s impossible to kill. It’s taking over our natural spaces and choking our farms. How can we rid ourselves of this invasive, unwelcome plant?”

  “You have no vision, Hubert.” Dad narrowed his eyes at the screen.

  “You know him?” I plopped onto the couch.

 

‹ Prev