Regenerate

  Lander leans forward, his elbows on the desk. He turns and his bright blue eyes search mine. “Don’t be too discouraged. There still may be something to see.”

  I bite on my lower lip, unable to shy from his vibrant eyes. “Really? What’s that mean?”

  He gives a crooked smile and his eyes get that mischievous twinkle in them. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. They’ll take some time to work out, though. I’ll have to get back with you.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘back to you’?”

  His smile spreads wider. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

  Heat floods my skin. This room is a lot smaller than I realized. And good grief, is there no ventilation in here? It’s stifling. I clear my throat and turn back to the computer. “So. Shall we check out your vid now? I could use a diversion like an ugly baby. It’s better than a missing one, anyway.”

  I start typing in his name, but he reaches over and hits the escape button, collapsing the window.

  “Hey, what’s that for?” I turn on him and his face is more serious than I expected. “Whoa, did I offend you? Sorry. I was completely joking. There’s no way you were an ugly baby. I’m sure you were a really cute baby, since now you are so—obviously. I mean, I was just joking ’cause—”

  He chuckles and holds a hand up to stop my ridiculous rambling. “I’m not offended. Though I am curious about where your apology was heading.”

  My neck flushes up to my ears.

  He goes on. “I don’t have a video file from my birth. It was either erased or never taken. So there’s no point wasting time trying to look it up.”

  “What? How do you know there’s none? Maybe there’s something, like mine.”

  He shakes his head. “There’s not. Trust me, I checked into it.”

  “Who would erase or forget to record something that important? Did your facility employ tubers?” Shame on those Organizers if they did. They should’ve known better than that.

  Lander’s back straightens and his expression goes flat. “What do you mean by that?”

  Wait, did I actually offend him now? How? Maybe his Grand was an Organizer. “I just mean tubers’ brain capacity makes it impossible for them to handle such a technical job, so it’s weird if they were employed there. But I can’t think of anyone else who would mess up that bad.”

  Lander doesn’t look at me. He stares down at the desk, tracing invisible patterns with his finger. “I see. So anyone who would hire a tuber for a job of importance would be a fool.”

  It’s not a question, and yet it is. “I’m not saying anyone is a fool, Lander. Come on, everyone knows that Test Tube Children, Artificials, whatever you want to call them, were overall a huge fail. Most were catatonic vegetables, and the few that weren’t aren’t much higher functioning.”

  Lander’s cheeks are sucked into his teeth and his lips are pinched tight. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He takes a deep breath through his nostrils, then claps his hands on the desk. I jump. “On that note, I’ve got loads of home study to do. I’ll see you later, Averielle.”

  He rises to his feet and is out the door before I can say “What the heck?”

  “Bye,” I call out. I must be too late though, because all I hear is our dwelling’s automated farewell and the door lock engage behind him.

  What in the world was that about?

  The soft Sunday-morning light is still filtering in through our windows as I make my way to the front room. With every step, my stomach sinks a little deeper.

  When I reach the living room, standing just inside our front door is Donna, my caseworker. Her greying auburn hair is in a tightly wound bun just behind and below her ear. The style makes the sharp angles of her face look severe and cross. “Averielle. So good to see you. It’s been years,” she says, extending her hand to me.

  I warily shake it. I don’t think it’s the woman herself that freaks me out inside, rather the fact that she’s making a home visit. Caseworkers almost never make home visits. “Thanks. Good to see you too,” I say. Is that even what I should say? It felt stupid coming out of my mouth. Did it sound stupid?

  She smiles tightly and pushes the latest version of vSpec lenses farther onto her nose. They allow the wearer to both see and hear their screen without having to hold anything, ensuring all their business is kept confidential.

  I show her into the kitchen, her deep-green structured vest and narrow-legged suit pants making a crisp, crinkling sound as she walks. We sit across from each other at our small hourglass table, surrounded by walls of windows and the comfort of filtered sunlight.

  Her perfectly manicured red fingernails click as she taps them against each other. “Averielle, to get right to the point, we have managed to make contact with your grandmother, Josephine Caster.”

  The words hit me like a shock wave. How? After all these years. . . But I say nothing.

  Donna goes on. “She is, to put it bluntly, a rather odd woman. However, we have evaluated your present circumstances and think it is best to explore the prospect of new living arrangements.”

  “Wait, you want to send me away? I have to go live in another village?” My left arm suddenly aches like the blood flow is being squeezed off.

  “No, dear. Not exactly. Josephine lives just a few miles outside these village walls; you would remain at the same school and have the same routine. Your commute would simply be longer. We would have an extensive visitation requirement first, of course. We want to ensure the two of you are actually a good match, and that the situation can be kept sufficiently secure to protect you. If all that aligns favorably, only then would we relocate you to Josephine’s.”

  Ok, so not too far and not right away. I still have time to be with my friends before they ship me off somewhere. Wait, did they not know she lived that close? I’d think if they did they would’ve knocked on her door two years ago.

  Donna stops fidgeting with her nails and presses the side of her glasses. Her eyes scan back and forth like she’s reading something. “We’ve set up a meet and greet with Josephine tomorrow after school. As long as you are in agreement with that, we’ll move forward from there. Agreed?”

  I stay quiet. I still have a Grand, and she already lives nearby. For a moment I feel a peaceful warmth at the thought. I’m not alone. But she’s been a jerk and not returned their chat pings. Why? Does she hate me? I suppose I could always make sure the match fails if we don’t like each other.

  Donna’s voice interrupts my thoughts. I forgot she was waiting for an answer. “I can see you need a moment to process all this. I realize the idea of Josephine’s presence in your life may be quite an adjustment to consider.” There’s the understatement of the year. “If you’ll excuse me,” Donna says, “I need to step out a moment.” She slides her glasses off her face and sets them on the table in front of her chair, next to her small handbag, then heads to our bathroom.

  I wonder how they finally made contact with Josephine to set this up. A giant flashing sign outside her house? Why would she agree to meet the granddaughter she’s been ignoring for seventeen years? Tomorrow feels way too soon. I don’t know if I’m ready for another Grand coming into my life. No one can replace Gran Ann, especially not some strange old woman who, until now, has never contacted me or been involved in my life. I wonder why she stayed away. What did they tell her to make her agree to this?

  My eyes are trained absently on Donna’s glasses. I can see the back side of them. I focus in on what looks like a file with my name. It has a play symbol on it. Maybe it’s my birth video. I glance down the hall towards the restroom, then back to the glasses. My fingers twitch and I flex them. Should I?

  I reach over, grab the glasses, and slide them on. The file is an audio bite only, recorded from these lenses. I click play.

  The sound picks up behind my ears where the mics are located, and I listen close.

  “Well, come on in, don’t be shy. Supper is almost ready, you hungry?” The voice is warbled and female with an unusual, w
ide accent I can’t place. I’m pretty sure this is my grandma, Josephine.

  The sound of something thumping and sliding repeats over and over in the background, but I have no idea what it could be.

  “Mrs. Caster, I’m here to inform you that April’s mother, Ann, has passed,” says the voice of Donna.

  The thumping sound slows and stops.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I really am.” The old woman’s voice is subdued, almost reverent.

  “You are?” asks Donna, her voice pitching.

  The elderly woman draws a long breath. “Ann and I may have had our differences, but she was still a good woman. When did she pass?”

  Donna’s voice is even and cool. “It will be two years in November.”

  “TWO YEARS?” the elderly lady shouts. “Who’s been caring for Averi?”

  “We’ve kept her with her mother, April, and have been monitoring the situation. However, we feel the time has come to make some major changes.”

  There’s a thump and something metallic rings like a bell. “Let me get this straight. You let one of your precious GAPs—and not just any, mind you, but one with her history—live in isolation with a Lost for nearly two years, and only now seek me out? How much has Averi deteriorated?” The old woman sounds furious, and it makes her warble all the more prominent. I like her spunk, though. Something about it makes me smile. Then her words register. What does she mean “only now”? They’ve been trying to get in touch with her since Gran passed. She’s the one who hasn’t returned chat pings. And what ‘history’ is she talking about?

  “Let’s just say we are concerned. Hence, we are looking for a Grand to move in the Gouch residence or take Averielle into theirs.”

  “And you’re asking me?” she doesn’t sound convinced.

  “We are considering you,” Donna corrects.

  “You know I’ll never leave this place, so she’d have to come here.” Why would she refuse to come live with me if she’s so worried?

  “We would have a trial period to test the fit. If Averielle shows no improvement, the match would be terminated and you would go back to a no-contact status. In which case we will find someone else.”

  “Let’s get one thing very clear.” I can tell Josephine’s footsteps are getting closer to Donna. Her voice is low and stern. “We both know I’m the absolute bottom on your list of candidates. If you’re asking me to take Averi, there is no one else.”

  Our bathroom door slides open. I hit close and practically toss the glasses back into place just as Donna rounds the corner into the kitchen.

  I hunch forward and rest my chin on my fist so I look deep in thought, and to hide the shaking of my hands.

  “Have you come to a decision?” she asks, retaking her seat.

  My head is reeling. That clip stirred up a lot of questions, ones I don’t think Donna would be willing to answer. But maybe Josephine would. “Yes. I have,” I finally say. “I think I’d be ok with that. But I want some of my friends to come when I visit her.”

  The tension in her face lessens. She touches a hand to the side of her hair, ensuring it’s perfectly in place. “Absolutely. I’ll see to it your friends get activity request clearances for this visit. Make sure they file them under the key phrase “Averielle Trial Run.” I will also personally be accompanying you, to make sure introductions go smoothly. Since I’ll be unable to stay the entire time, bringing a few friends with you is an excellent idea.”

  The thought of having Raxtin and the others there with me makes me feel better. Still, a quiver of uneasiness trembles through my legs. Tomorrow doesn’t give me much time to mentally prepare. I’m going to meet someone the Organizers hope will save my life. But that’s a detail I’m not supposed to know.

  Chapter Nine

  Mass transit is so weird. We see the air tram drive around the village every day, but we GAPs almost never ride it. Really, the Lost don’t either if they can avoid physically leaving home. And there are so few Grands left they wouldn’t fill more than one or two cabins. Honestly, I don’t know what it’s actually for, because the thing seems pretty pointless to me.

  The tram takes a sharp turn and the force causes Raxtin’s shoulder and arm to press against mine. I wonder if he notices the contact as much as I do. I glance over at him. A small smile is at the edge of his mouth. I get it—that wasn’t completely from the tram’s force.

  Zeph is on the other side of Rax, scrolling through something on her Pocket Palm, oblivious. I’m glad Raxtin and Zeph were able to make the journey with me. Kachina and Jett opted not to.

  Lander sits directly across from me and is staring idly out the window. With how fast we’re moving, I’m not sure what he’s looking at. It’s all a blur to me. I’m actually peeved Zeph invited him to come without asking me. I probably would’ve grudgingly said yes, but still, it’s my visit. She should’ve asked me first.

  The tram takes us farther and faster than our bi-peds ever could in the same time. According to Donna, in order to visit Josephine, it’s a necessary mode of transportation.

  “Why does Josephine not live in the columns?” I ask Donna. “I thought everyone did. Where exactly does she live?”

  Donna straightens the edges of her suit coat. “When the Migration happened, some chose to remain outside the protection of the villages and risk all the dangers that come with it. Most of them didn’t fare well and died. Your Grandma Caster is a rare exception.” She pulls out her Pocket Palm and scrolls on it, adjusting the volume on her ear piece. In a much lower tone, more to herself than us, she mutters “I think the social isolation has taken a toll on her.” She rises to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a call.” And with that she leaves our compartment.

  I swallow hard and look out the window at the fleeting, cultivated landscape. How crazy is Josephine? I’m expected to move out here with her? In isolation?

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Averi,” whispers Raxtin, leaning towards me.

  He knows me too well. I nod without turning. “Thanks, Rax.”

  “Besides, we’ll all be together,” pipes Zeph. “This is kind of a unique adventure. You should be excited.”

  Sure, I should be a lot of things. Like, apparently, ok with the death of Gran. But I can’t help that I don’t feel what I should feel.

  I can see in the faint reflection of the window Rax turn toward Zeph with an almost tired smile, and pat her knee.

  Someone kicks my foot, and my eyes shoot over at Lander.

  He quirks his mouth into a sly twist. His bright blue eyes dance playfully as they lock with mine. “Come on, Averi, a crazy old coot living on the edge of both town and sanity, what’s not to be thrilled about?” He gives a subtle wink that somehow assures me he gets it. Then he leans forward towards me, his elbows on his knees. He checks to make sure Donna is still on her call, then whispers. “Maybe she’s a crazy rebel, hell-bent on overthrowing the entire civilized world. Bet she tries to shanghai us into her private army.”

  What in the world is he talking about?

  He wriggles his eyebrows at me. “Dibs on the explosives division.”

  Zeph and I bust out chuckling.

  Lander grins and eases back into his bench, crossing his arms. “One can always hope, right? We’d have the best story of all time if that happened.”

  I draw a long breath as the mood settles. I’m much more at ease, and my muscles aren’t locked up anymore. Lander’s right. How bad could it actually be?

  We step off the tram onto an open-air concrete platform with a metal roof. It’s all very up to date and current, with a sleek-looking bench and a charging doc for tech. But beyond this modern island is a world I’ve only seen through the transparent walls of the village. Thick forests and tall, yellow wispy grasses surround us. Birds of all different kinds sing and chirp a hundred different songs, and creatures I can only guess at click and chatter.

  The five of us walk single file down a narrow path made out of very old, weathered cement
. Donna leads the way. The path is full of cracks and fissures, and the weeds have grown up through the spaces. Our feet crunch the dried debris that covers most of the concrete. It’s messy, but still it’s better than foraging our way through the real brush. Besides, it has a certain charm I don’t quite know how to describe. It feels like all is as it should be.

  The cool fall breeze picks up and caresses my neck and face. The scent of the air is one I’ve never encountered before. It’s almost like muted spices and savory potting soil. Yellow, red, and orange leaves rustle in the nearby trees and sound musical, like paper wind chimes. Several of them drift gracefully to the ground in a gentle rainfall of colors. I can’t help smiling at the sight.

  One of Donna’s high heels catches in a crack and she stumbles a little. “Mind the vegetation,” she says, straightening. “Most of these, I’m sure, are seed-bearing plants. We don’t want to introduce an invasive species into the villages.” She reaches down and brushes off the small twigs and fibers that cling to her suit pants.

  Seed-bearing, huh? I wonder if I could sneak any past the bio-matter scans on the ride home?

  We emerge from the stand of trees and before we’re all the way clear of them, Donna breathily announces, “There it is.”

  I pick up my pace so I can see it more clearly.

  Josephine’s house, if one could call it that, looks like something out of a fairy tale from the old days. But not the cute, castle kind of story. More like the ones with goblins and witches. This would be the witch’s place. I think it’s constructed out of actual wooden beams, and the dark patina of the structure makes me shiver. The roof is entirely metal that has since turned a mottled green and turquois. The windows reflect the sunlight as it hits them, clearly not poly-plex.

  “Are those actual glass windows?” asks Zeph.

  “I’m sure they are,” says Donna. “The house is an original structure from the two thousand tens. It lacks most of what we require for our standard of living.”