[Perception 01.0] Perception Read online

  “And you believe it?”

  Noah leaned back and rubbed his full stomach. “I don’t know. I think so. My father did.”

  I nibbled on my fries. “I still don’t get why you won’t get the chip?”

  “There’s a passage in Revelation that talks about a ‘beast’ that comes to deceive the world. This beast works against God and everyone who follows him. In order to control the people he makes them get a mark on their right hand or forehead. Without this mark you can’t buy or sell.”

  I pointed to my right hand. “And you think this chip is that mark?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. I’m just not ready to take any chances.”

  I tossed my crumpled napkin on my tray and pushed it away. “Fair enough.”

  “What else do you know about where Liam was found?” Noah said. Clearly, he wanted a change of subject.

  “Paul was pretty tight-lipped about the details. Outside of the location, all I got out of him was that he was found by some kid.”

  “Then, I guess we’d better go find that kid.”

  We cleared off the table, separating the recyclable items from the trash, and depositing everything in the appropriate bins.

  I covered my eyes as we broached the bright sunlight and followed Noah to the transit station. We boarded a public pod heading for the eastern sector.

  “Thanks for doing this,” I said once we found our seats. I had this weird compulsion to reach for his hand again, but instead, I crossed my arms in front of my chest and kept a safe, friendly distance between us

  “Sure.” Noah tapped his fingers on his thighs like he was metering a song in his head.

  “And Anthony. I forgot to thank him.”

  “That’s all right. He’s not doing it for you.”

  “He’s doing it for you?”

  His fingers tapped and his knee bounced in rhythm. “Yes.”

  “Do Anthony and the other guys have the same belief system as you? Is that why they’re rebelling?”

  Noah’s fingers and leg went still. “No. They’re just pissed off.”

  “Not to be nosy or anything, but for a ‘rebel’ group, yours is kind of small.” I almost used finger quotes, but thought better of it.

  He turned to me. It seemed the song in his head had turned off.

  “It was bigger when my dad was alive. Much bigger. Big enough that ‘your people’ felt threatened.”

  He had obviously heard the quotes in my voice.

  “Dad had a huge following online and off that had spread across the state.”

  “So what happened?”

  “When he was killed, it was like the queen bee had died. All the worker bees and drones scattered. No one has tried to start it up again.”

  “Until now?”

  He stared out the window, and I worried I’d said something wrong.

  “I was a pretty sheltered kid,” he began, still looking away. “My parents did a good job of giving me a carefree childhood. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that my father started bringing me along to his protests.”

  He turned to face me. “Of course, on the day he died, my world changed. Even though I knew I should be mad, mostly I was just sad. Turns out I’m more of a lover than a fighter.”

  I held his gaze. “It’s possible to be a lover and a fighter.”

  “I suppose.”

  “So if you’re not a fighter, what made you start demonstrating now?”

  “Mostly boredom. I’m tired of apathy. And now that I’m older and understand more about the inequalities of the world, I am starting to get madder.”

  “You looked really angry to me, at the Sleiman rally on TV.”

  “Yeah, that day I was angry.”

  Was it because of me? Because of what he’d heard my parents say?

  “Do you miss him?” I asked.

  Noah tapped his ring, and called for his photo gallery. A series of pictures flashed in the space in front of us. I recognized the cabin picture from Noah’s photo wall in his room.

  “My dad used to take us camping,” Noah said. “He believed getting away from the city was good for the soul and bonded us as a family. At the time I didn’t pay attention to that kind of talk. I was just happy to be canoeing and fishing and cooking food over a fire outside.”

  He turned the photo image function off. “We stopped going when the movement gained momentum. It kind of took over his life by the end.”

  We arrived at our stop, and I followed Noah off the pod.

  The eastern sector was kind of sleazy. The neighborhood was a mix of residential and industrial. The single-family homes were small and needed paint, and they were tucked in tightly between overcrowded apartment blocks. Laundry hung from the railings and loud music was pumping out of open windows and doors. The day had warmed to uncomfortable levels, and the lack of AC had made the inhabitants irritable. I could hear a domestic fight coming from one of the apartments.

  Teens from the area gathered in groups in poorly manicured yards and on street corners, smoking cigarettes and some already consuming beer. They eyed us warily as we approached a group close to the area where Liam had been found. Noah protectively tucked me behind him.

  “Hey?” he said, standing tall with his shoulders back, showing no fear. “Anyone here seen a guy hanging around lately? Someone not from around these parts? Tall, blond, blue eyes?”

  One of the kids, a tough looking guy with worn clothes stepped forward. “Who wants to know?”

  “I do.” I moved out from behind Noah. “He was my brother.”

  Noah added, “His body was found around here recently. By a kid. You heard of anything?”

  The guy nodded and pointed. “Two blocks south, one west. Blue house. Ask for Dane.”

  Noah thanked him before turning south. Even though I’d told myself I wouldn’t, I took Noah’s hand again, wanting the security it afforded. He glanced down at our clasped hands but didn’t pull away.

  I waited until we were out of range of the gang before asking, “Were you there?”

  “Was I where?”

  “With your father. When he died.” I wanted to hear the story from him. We didn’t really focus that much on rebel groups in the Sol City educational system.

  His nod was subtle, I almost missed it.

  “What happened?”

  “There was a rally in front of the church. A large crowd had gathered, filling up the entire square. Pedestrians blocked passage to the transit stations, waving placards. There were other smaller groups protesting the rally, GAP supporters.

  “One of them pulled a gun from his jacket. I was standing two people away from my dad, and I saw him pull it out. It had a silencer on the tip and I was so stunned I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. It felt like time had stopped.

  “I shouted for my dad to watch out, but it was too late. The man had pulled the trigger. Clear shot to the head.”

  I squeezed his hand, wishing there was more I could do to comfort him. “That’s awful. How old were you?”

  “Fifteen. It was three years ago.”

  “You’re probably the only person I know who might actually understand what I’m going through right now.”

  “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “What I don’t understand, and don’t take this the wrong way, but how can you still believe in God after watching your dad die right in front of you like that?”

  “It was because of my belief in God that I was able to keep going.”

  “Because you think your dad’s in a better place?”

  “Yeah, that’s part of it.”

  “I can see how you’d find comfort in myths like that, no offense. I wish I believed Liam was in a better place.”

  “You don’t believe in heaven and hell?”

  “No. I believe that when you die, you’re just gone. All we have is the life we have here and now. That’s why I believe in GAP technology. It’s why I’m so furious that someone stole my brother’s only chance
at living away from him.”

  “So now you want justice?”

  “No, I want vengeance. Don’t you? Don’t you want to see the person who killed your dad suffer?”

  Noah paused briefly to study me. “I think that’s a dangerous place to go. I’m sad my dad died, but I don’t want vengeance. I want justice. And not just for me but justice for everyone. This is why I oppose GAP technology. Not only does it mess with mans’ make-up and destiny, but it’s a crutch for the very rich.”

  Our hands broke apart as we reached the corner and made the turn.

  He continued. “Do you even know how much it costs to get altered genetically, specifically to get the extended-life gene manipulation?”

  I had a good idea, and now that I was discussing it with a natural, it made me uncomfortable. “Around seven hundred and fifty thousand a person.”

  “That’s right. Three quarters of a mil. I hate to break the news to you, but most of the world can’t swing that for one family member, much less all of them.”

  “But if money wasn’t an issue,” I said, “if someone offered to do the procedure on you for free, would you do it?”

  “No.”

  “What if they promised to do your whole family? Just think, an extra hundred years.”

  He shook his head. “I think the first hundred years are long enough.”

  I pointed to a blue house. “That must be it.”

  Noah led the way to the front door, again positioning me carefully behind him. It warmed me inside the way he acted protective of me.

  A gray-haired woman in curlers answered the ragged-looking screen door. The TV in her front room had a daytime soap opera playing at full volume. “Yeah?” she shouted over the noise.

  Noah answered, “I’m looking for Dane.”

  She eyed us up and down and must have decided we looked harmless as she then bellowed for Dane over her shoulder.

  A kid about fourteen sauntered up the basement steps. He had hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in years, and acne dotted skin.

  “What?” he said.

  “Some people here for you,” the woman barked, then returned to her daytime show.

  The kid opened the screen door and joined us on the cement steps. “What’d ya want?”

  “We heard you were one of the kids who found a body in the neighborhood,” Noah began.

  “So?”

  “He was my brother,” I said. “Can you tell us where you found him?”

  He pointed. “A bunch of us were biking in that empty field over there. He was lying in the tall grass.”

  “Had you seen this person before?” Noah asked. “When he was alive?”

  “Yeah. Him and his friends hung out in that building over there.” Dane pointed down the block, west of his house. All the buildings were dark and boarded up, yards overgrown with wild grasses and weeds.

  “Which one?” I said.

  “The warehouse in the middle.”

  “It looks abandoned.”

  “Yeah, they all are. I seen some guys who weren’t from here go in and out of that warehouse a lot in the last few weeks. He was one of them.”

  “What did the others look like?” Noah asked.

  “I don’t know. Older than you. Blond hair, tall. At least three of them were. One of them had red hair.”

  I caught Noah’s eye. It was his Dexter.

  After we thanked the kid, I followed Noah as we walked the half block to the warehouse. Not surprisingly, it was locked. The grime-covered windows had security bars welded over them. I tried to peer inside, but it was too dark to see anything.

  “What was Liam doing here?” I said. “And who were the other two guys?”

  “How many tall, blond guys do you know?” Noah asked as he climbed an electrical box and stretched out to look in a second story window.

  “A lot.”

  “How many do you know that hung out with your brother?”

  “A few.”

  “Okay, how many that worked closely with him?”

  I swallowed. “Two. Mitchell and Jackson.”

  “Then I would say you’re right to think Jackson’s hiding something from you.” Noah jumped back to the ground. “Let’s go.”

  “We have to get inside.”

  “Not we.”

  “Yes, we!”

  Noah let out a frustrated breath. “Ok, fine. But we have to wait until its dark. Unless you want to know what the inside of a jail in L.A. looks like.”

  I gave him a hard look. “My schedule’s free.”

  We headed back toward the pod station. I pulled a water bottle out of my bag and took a drink. Then I handed it to Noah. Again, my gesture seemed to take him by surprise, but he took the offering.

  I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. His lips were wet when he pulled the bottle away. If he weren’t a natural I wasn’t sure I would stop myself from testing those lips out.

  I glanced away, aghast at my inappropriate thoughts.

  I forced myself to refocus. “Do you have any idea what Dexter might’ve had to do with my brother? Other than drug sales, I mean.”

  “Nope.” He handed me my bottle.

  “Is Dexter a scientist?”

  “Not in the true sense of the word.”

  “Right. He’s good at pharmaceuticals. Look, I should go home soon, at least check in with my parents so they don’t freak.” I adjusted the strap of my shoulder bag. “I’m sure they’ll be in bed early tonight. I can sneak away again around nine.”

  “I’ll meet you outside the gate.”

  The pod arrived, and we hopped on. This time I didn’t worry about sitting too close to Noah. I enjoyed his company and needed his help. Once this nightmare was over, I’d probably never see him again anyway.

  The thought didn’t actually comfort me.

  But he wasn’t interested in me like that. He was with me because of the money. I couldn’t forget that.

  “Okay, but before then,” I started, “before I go back, I’m wondering if I can ask for a favor?”

  He eyed me carefully.

  “What?”

  I held out my hand. “I want you to scan my chip. One of my files is locked. I want you to get Anthony to break into it.”

  Noah scrunched his face. “Isn’t that breaking and entering?”

  “You can’t break and enter your own files. They’re my files.” I changed my tactic. He hadn’t warmed up to me enough to do this as a favor, but he seemed to respond to money. “I’ll hire you. Think of it as another job.”

  He exhaled. “You don’t have to pay me. I’ll do it as a friend.”

  The word friend made my heart leap a little. I didn’t know why I even wanted his friendship, I just knew I did.

  And maybe I even needed it.

  He took me back to his house.

  “Ma?” he called out.

  Saundra exited the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed as they moved over the scene of the two of us together.

  “Noah?” she finally choked out.

  “Ma, it’s Zoe Vanderveen.”

  She flashed him a quick look—obviously she knew who I was. She cleared her throat. “Miss Vanderveen, may I offer my condolences. I’m so sorry to hear about your brother.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Please call me Zoe.”

  Uncertainty remained on Saundra’s face as she returned to her position in the recliner. I expected she got a call not to come to our house today with such a personal scene unfolding. She seemed too frail to be going into work, anyway. Her eyes kept darting our way, and I expected Noah would get questioned thoroughly later on.

  He motioned with a tilt of his head for me to follow him to his room, purposely leaving the door cracked open for the sake of his mother.

  “Give me your hand,” he said, picking up his scanning device.

  I offered my hand, and he held it like a gift. He pressed the fleshy area that concealed my chip with his thumb and forefinger, feeling the form of the small
tubular module.

  The motion felt so intimate. My heart raced, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. His dark eyes moved from my hand to my face and held my gaze. I swallowed.

  He broke eye contact, then ran the scanner over the chip. He turned to his monitor. “So what are we looking for?”

  “Medical files. Early years.”

  “Why are they locked? Isn’t that unusual?”

  “I don’t know and yes,” I sighed. “Suddenly my life is all about secrets.”

  Noah isolated the file. “I’m sending it to Anthony now. He’s good at this kind of stuff. He’ll probably have it unlocked by tomorrow.”

  16

  Alison insisted that we sit down and eat dinner together, and whatever Alison wanted, Alison got. I found myself sitting on the long side of the dining room table with my parents at either end: Liam’s place opposite mine was conspicuously empty. I’d asked Jackson to join us, but he was suddenly very busy these days. It was weird being the only kid at the table with my parents.

  “It was a great surfing day, today,” Alison said like she was reciting a poem. “Liam would’ve loved it.”

  Paul played with his food. He answered with a tortured, “The winds were perfect.”

  I wished the house wasn’t so silent. I felt like I could hear my own eyelashes bat, and certainly my heart giving out. Maybe I should turn on some music. The humming of the AC, the motor of the refrigerator, the scraping of my fork along the porcelain plate, every little noise felt like an explosion. Even my own breathing rhythm felt like ocean waves pounding in my ears.

  “So when’s, you know, the memorial?” I asked. Anything to break the silence.

  Paul answered, “The day after tomorrow.”

  Alison patted her mouth with her cotton napkin. “Grandpa Vanderveen is flying in, in the morning.”

  I hadn’t thought about it, but of course the Senator of California would come to the funeral of his own grandson. Even though Grandpa V had a big house on the beach here in Sol City, it remained empty for most of the year now that he was running for president. He spent most of his time in Washington D.C. and who knew where else.

  In fact, Liam’s death was big news because of who he was related to and where his body had been found. It was why our TV was always turned off now. The story had been looping non-stop.