[Perception 01.0] Perception Page 4
Noah returned a careful grin.
“No, that’s cool. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll introduce you to my friends.”
He motioned to the girls that he was leaving. They gave me a sharp look before following behind. I wondered what it was about Noah Brody that had them jumping at his beck and call. He led them under an ancient highway overpass, the kind that used to be traveled on when old fashioned automobiles still ran on fossil fuels. Back when there was still plenty to be had. A rusted out car lay discarded in the ditch, overgrown with weeds. I had only seen restored versions in one of Sol City's museums before. A MagLev sky-train hummed as it floated along tracks high above.
It turned out this was the long way to the back of the old church, which could've easily been mistaken for a junkyard. More rusted relics and other sorts of trash littered the way. A doorway was hidden by overgrown bushes, and if it weren't for the narrow worn path through the tall grass, I'd have never guessed it was there.
Noah cracked the heavy door open just wide enough for us to squeeze inside, and I was relieved that the other girls were with us now. It would've been insane for me to follow a strange boy into a place like this alone. Not that what I was doing right now wasn't crazy.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the bright daylight to the darker room. Shafts of light streamed through broken stained glass high above my head, and dust swirled in its rays. Most of the pews had been removed but a few were left, moved out of their straight lines into a crooked circle. A wooden cross hung from the ceiling over an altar, but any other religious relics that might have once had a home here were gone. A lone guitar was propped in the corner.
Two guys were sleeping on the pews and Noah kicked one in the foot. “We got company.”
The nervous three-ring circus that had been going in my stomach jumped a notch. I was the company. The game was on.
“Everyone, this is Chloe Morgan. She just moved here from New San Diego.”
“Hi,” I said trying to imitate the slouched, bored look of the two girls who immediately took up residence on the same pew as Noah Brody. Not wanting to be the only one left standing, I slipped into the nearest pew. I noticed the absence of red hair with a sinking heart. What could I possibly learn about Liam's disappearance here?
Noah pointed to the skinny brunette and announced, “Beth.” Then he nodded to his other side, where the blonder, tall girl leaned up against him. She could've passed as a GAP if I hadn't known she was a natural. “This is Katy.”
They grunted at me like I was an irritating wad of gum on their shoes. The guys however, sat up and eagerly gave their names along with an appreciative look.
“Brian,” a heavyset guy about my age announced.
His hair was buzzed short, and reminded me of a peach. He blushed when he smiled at me. The other, lanky boy beside him leaned forward planting his bony elbows on his knees. He was all folded up like a praying mantis.
“I’m Anthony.”
Both boys grinned like happy dogs with a new bone dropped in their dish. I felt a certain satisfaction that disguised as a brown-eyed brunette, I still attracted guys, even the weird ones, though for some reason I didn't seem to have this same effect on Noah Brody. From the looks of things, he had his share of girlfriends, and besides, what did I care about what he thought of me?
I was here to find Zack Dexter.
“So,” I started, “when's your next rally?
Noah's eyes narrowed again. “What do you really know about our cause?”
I gulped. I was sure he knew I was a fake. I crossed my legs to keep my knees from shaking. “Well, to be honest, not a lot. Like I said, I saw you on TV. I thought you were cool and I'm new here. I'm just looking for people to hang out with.”
Noah stared at me and his dark eyes felt like soul scanners. What would he do if he discovered that I was a GAP? That I was really Zoe Vanderveen? I hoped the fear I felt creeping across my chest wasn't obvious.
“I'm glad you're being honest, Chloe. Honesty is really important to us.” He raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head.
He was mocking me.
“So, how should we answer her?” he said to the room. “When should the next rally be?”
The arrogance radiating off this guy was blinding. I tried not to roll my eyes.
Katy said, “There's always a crowd at the open market.”
Brian scoffed. “Of mostly old ladies. We need something bigger, like the mayor elections.”
“But that's a month away,” Katy whined. “The market is open every day.”
“We could just do the sky train station again,” Anthony said, directing his comment to Noah. “Always a captive audience there.”
Noah dug for something in the front pocket of his jeans. My eyes bugged when I saw what he had in his hand. A coin. Real money. Did that mean Noah didn't have a chip? Was he one of those?
“Heads the market, tails the station.”
He tossed the coin into the air, caught it with his right hand and slapped it on the back of his left. “Tails,” he announced. “The sky train station it is. How about this evening, at eight?” His gaze fell on me. “Does that work for you, Chloe?”
I nodded. Not that I intended to come back to these nutcases.
Noah’s attention was drawn to his ring. He tapped it and a small head and shoulders image of an auburn-haired girl dangled in the air. Noah stood as he shut the image off and strutted to a dark corner for privacy. I couldn't help but wonder who the girl was. His call reminded me that I'd ignored two indicator vibrations after leaving Sol City. When I tapped my ring I saw I had two missed calls from Alison. Nothing from Jackson, which irritated me. I thought he'd at least call to apologize.
“Has anyone seen Dexter?” Beth's question grabbed my attention. A tingling sensation exploded in my chest.
Katy shook her head. “He's been working a lot lately. Speaking of which, I have to get ready for my slum job.”
Noah came back to the circle just as my ring buzzed again. Alison. I couldn’t keep ignoring her.
“I have to go,” I said, stepping in behind Katy as she prepared to leave.
Noah shrugged like he couldn’t care less what I did and went back to his spot by Beth. Fine. I didn’t care what he did, either.
6
I felt like I’d escaped a burning building, covered in smoke and ash but basically unscathed. I thought I’d fooled the naturals, created a character unlike my real self—tough and fearless—but now looking back, I wasn’t so sure. A frustrated shudder coursed through me. I hadn’t even met Zack Dexter. Basically, the whole event had been a waste of time.
At least I hadn’t been called out. That would’ve been horribly embarrassing. And possibly dangerous. What would Noah Brody and his motley crew have done if my cover had been blown? I didn’t want to think about that.
When I finally entered my house, the scent of fresh baked bread overwhelmed my senses. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and I was famished. I made a beeline to the kitchen, noting the cook was nowhere to be seen, but the loaves of bread sat on the cutting board on the counter. I placed the bread in the holder and told it to slice. A laser beam shot across the board and cut a perfectly measured piece.
I bit into it and moaned with satisfaction.
“Where have you been?” Alison stood with hands on her narrow hips. She wore baggy sweat pants, and her hair stood on end like she hadn’t showered. Clearly, she was having an off day. I pointed to my full mouth and feigned a mumble. What should I tell her?
“I’ve been worried sick. First you take off without telling anyone where you’ve gone, and then you don’t answer your ComRing? I’m already missing one child, for God’s sake.”
I chewed and swallowed the last bit of doughy goodness in my mouth. “Um, sorry, Mom. I was at the beach. Needed to think. You know?”
Alison eyed me warily. “You wore that to the beach?”
Though I’d removed the wig and contacts i
n the pod, I still had the unfashionable costume on.
“Um, I need to do some laundry?”
“I don’t know what you’re up to Zoe, but you’d better stay out of trouble if you know what’s good for you.”
Alison’s face had grown cherry red, and I worried she might be on the brink of a nervous breakdown. We had to find Liam and fast. Thankfully, Paul entered the kitchen. I always felt more comfortable when he was with us.
“Dad? Have you heard anything?” Though I called my parents by their first names in my mind, I never called my dad Paul to his face. On occasion I’d call my mother Alison, when I was in the mood to get her riled up.
Paul pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. He let out a hard breath.
“Dad?”
His eyes were rimmed red when he looked at me, causing my heart to squeeze tight.
“I think Liam’s in trouble.”
I felt my knees give, and I grabbed a chair. “How?”
Paul shook his head. “I don’t know. The authorities won’t talk. None of Liam’s friends know anything, and believe me, I’ve been asking. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”
I heard a loud sob escape Alison’s lips. For the first time in my life, I wished my mother and I had the kind of relationship where it would be perfectly normal for one of us to embrace the other, to reassure and comfort one another. Instead Alison walked away, leaving me and Paul to stare helplessly at each other.
My heart beat like I'd been mountain climbing, my ears pulsing like crashing waves. I waited for Paul to say something to break the rising tenor in my head. Even my dry swallows resounded in my throat.
“I’m going to my room,” I whispered, leaving Paul in my wake.
I sat on my bed. Someone had made it while I was gone—Saundra Brody probably.
“Turn of the century Arctic,” I said to my DigiWall. A vast whiteness blossomed before me. Snow as far as the eye could see. I’d never seen real snow before, though it snowed heavily in the north in the winters.
Climate change hadn’t eliminated the cold, just made it crazy, screwing with the seasons.
The Arctic ice was only half the size it had been in my great-grandparents’ day. The polar bear I now watched strolling grandly over the ice, its yellow-white fur moving over strong muscular shoulders and its black nose sniffing the air, looking for food, was a computer image. There weren’t any more polar bears.
A wide white desk sat against the far wall, and a large, glass computer monitor was imbedded in the wall above it. I moved to my desk chair and sat, then I told it to find Dr. Matthew Brody. Immediately a trail of listings appeared on my screen. I touched the first one.
DR. MATTHEW BRODY, GENETICIST, co-developer of the extended life gene manipulation process. Dr. Brody, along with his research partner, Dr. William Vanderveen are credited with being the first researchers to manipulate the human genome creating the possibility of doubling the human lifespan. The procedure was first performed in a Petri dish in a lab at the University of California in 2021, and later performed on select live-human specimens. Ironically, Dr. Matthew Brody was adamantly opposed to implementing his own discovery. He died of heart disease in 2032 at the age of 52.
Noah’s grandfather and my grandfather were research partners? How was it possible that I hadn’t heard of this before? My parents had never mentioned it which maybe wasn’t such a big surprise, but how come I’d never learned this in school? Was this why Paul said they weren’t just anybody? Did he feel some kind of responsibility for Noah’s family?
I shook my head. I couldn’t believe Noah’s own grandfather had denied his family the long life we now enjoyed. Sure it took money, but the Brodys must’ve had money back then. Didn’t they?
Was it really Dr. Brody’s moral beliefs that stopped him from providing the procedure to his family, or was it that he simply couldn’t afford to treat every member? If he’d had to choose one and not the other, I could understand how that might be difficult. Or maybe he’d had a moral issue with anybody receiving the procedure.
The second listing talked about Matthew’s son, David.
Reverend David Brody led a campaign against the manipulation of the human genome claiming the procedure that artificially extended human life was un-natural, and would cause new social difficulties associated with class division. He famously claimed that God would judge the world for this and other ethically and morally controversial procedures done in the name of science. He was assassinated on the steps of the church he presided over on September 18, 2037. He was 40 years old.
Saundra had started working for my parents shortly afterwards. I knew her husband had died, but I didn’t know he’d been assassinated for his beliefs. A picture appeared under the article. A man with a white religious collar stood on the steps of a church. I could see the resemblance between this man and his son, Noah. Same jaw line, same dark eyes. A partial view of the clock tower bled off the left corner.
That was the church where Noah’s father had resided as a reverend. It was the place his father had died.
No wonder Noah had staked a claim to it.
I startled when my ComRing vibrated. I tapped it and the hologram of Jackson’s face appeared.
“You’re answering your CR now?”
I nodded. “Yeah, sorry I had to turn it off for a while.”
“I don’t like it when I can’t get in touch with you.”
I fought back my irritation. “I said I was sorry.”
“Fine. We’re on my yacht at the dock. Why don’t you come?”
“We?”
“Yeah, Josh, Serena, Isabelle... the gang.”
I pictured my classmates lounging on Jackson’s yacht, not a trouble in the world. My first inclination was to decline. How could I relax with my friends when Liam was still missing?
“Com’on, Zoe. It’ll be good for you. For us.”
Suddenly, I felt like I was suffocating, trapped in some kind of cave I hadn’t made. Nothing I’d done, not even trekking to the outside and impersonating a natural had gotten me anywhere. Taking some time with my friends couldn’t hurt, could it?
“Yeah, okay. I’ll come.”
Jackson smiled and signed out.
I stripped out of my costume and raked through my summer things until I found a pair of khaki linen shorts and a green summer blouse. If I’d held the items up to the mirror, a six inch square computerized version of them would’ve appeared on the corner with info transmitting from the chip in each item of clothing. The computer would then tell me if they were a good fashion match and if they suited the weather outside.
At the moment I didn’t care what the computer thought; I just put them on, choosing pink sandals to brighten things up.
After donning sunglasses, I headed out the patio doors off the living room. An outdoor kitchen with a state of the art barbeque spread out from the right side and was decked with enough tables and wicker chairs to feed a dozen or more people. The pool sparkled in the sunshine on the other side.
I skipped down the steps to the second tier, across the lawn and down onto the beach. I took my sandals off and dug my toes in the sand. The wind blew my hair about and I wished I could just fall back onto the sand and let the rumble of the sea comfort me.
But Jackson would freak if I didn’t show soon. I was surprised he hadn’t buzzed me already. I made my way to the docks southward in the distance, shooing away seagulls that squawked above my head and remembering the last time I’d walked along this beach with Liam after surfing.
I missed him. A hard ball of dread formed in my stomach growing larger with each passing hour. I forced myself to think of other things. School would start back up in a few weeks, and the reading I had to do to prepare for it. Then my mind drifted to Noah Brody, and the odd connection between our families.
Before this week, everything about my life was staid and normal. Though Alison was changing careers, Paul had always worked for Sleiman Enterprises, not
surprising, since my grandfather Senator (Dr.) William Vanderveen had built the corporation into the mega industry it was. We’d lived in the same house all my life, and spent a lot of time on the ocean, either surfing or scuba diving off our own yacht.
I went to school at Sol City High and, like most of the students there, got straight As. My future, again like most students, was to attend Sol City University and ultimately contribute to scientific research that would undoubtedly lead to the next big discovery.
Life was fairly simple.
Until now. Liam’s disappearance had shaken up everything.
The gates to the dock opened after I held my hand under the scanner. I replaced my sandals and walked toward Jackson’s yacht near the end.
There were at least a hundred boat slips at this marina, one of many that lined the west coast. The Vanderveen’s own yacht was stowed here. I’d been on Jackson’s family’s yacht a hundred times; I didn’t even have to think to find it. The white bow glowed in the sun, and an American flag flapped in the breeze. I climbed the metal walkway that bridged the dock to the yacht and followed the sound of the music playing past the galley and through the cockpit.
A handful of people was hanging out on the aft deck. I hesitated when I saw Jackson’s familiar head, his toned body reclining in a lounging chair, his bare chest facing the setting sun. He was beautiful. Serena and Isabelle were wearing bikinis and swaying to the electronic music, their long blond locks flowing down their toned backs.
They were all beautiful. I knew I was too, and I liked that I was beautiful. Noah Brody could have his natural life, his ridiculous cause and weird-looking friends. I skipped across the deck and gave Jackson a big kiss on the lips.
7
I had all but given up on attending Noah Brody’s rally. What could I possibly learn by returning to the outside?
But when I got home from the yacht party, I found Alison slumped over an uneaten supper. Her bony shoulders were slouched forward, and dark circles were under her bloodshot eyes. I almost gasped aloud. I’d never in my seventeen years seen my mother as anything but strong, driven and gorgeous.