Regenerate

  I pull the band out from my night stand and slip it on my arm then activate the device. A thrill of both excitement and certainty courses through me. Being my own person and preventing a fraction of the control the Organizers have over me feels right somehow. It feels like this fits who I am.

  Is this who I am? If so, when did that start?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Knowing we’re off grid, so to speak, makes this outing feel way more adventurous than it actually is. Even if it’s not actually daring, getting out and away is nice.

  We ride our bi-peds to Fuller’s Pond and toss small pebbles into its still surface.

  Seeing so much water reminds me of the fishery tanks, only this is open and airy, not contained in some building. “Too bad they don’t allow fish to be in open water like the olden days,” I say.

  Raxtin’s gaze is focused on the water, but his head pulls back at my statement. “What makes you say that?” He tosses the rock and it skips lightly across the surface twice.

  “Because the other day, I—” I picture the fish tank again and realize I was with Lander when I saw it. Probably not the most tactful thing to bring up. “I—happened to discover we have a huge fishery here.”

  Raxtin’s ready arm drops to his side, his next rock still in hand as he turns to me. “No way! I’ve always wanted to see a real, living fish in person. Where is it? How did you find it?”

  I twist the flat, smooth stone in my fingers over several times, grasping for a Lander-less answer. “I, well . . . it’s complicated how. But I could explain where.”

  He gives me a look like I’m weird but listens attentively and nods as I explain where it is.

  When I finish, his eyes look distant and he runs a hand through his hair. “That’s so strange. I’ve seen that hill my whole life. How did I not know that’s what it is?”

  I follow his unfocused gaze in the direction of the hill. “I thought the same thing when I found out,” I say.

  He chews on the inner corner of his lip, his thoughts still clearly distracted. His next words are more to himself than to me. “I’ll have to go see for myself.”

  We toss a few more pebbles into the pond. I wonder if they have to come and replace the ones we throw or drag the pond to retrieve them. Do they have an endless supply of stones, or are they a limited thing—like us?

  I raise my arm and skip my small stone. It jumps three times before sinking. “You ever wonder what it’s going to be like when we grow up?” I ask.

  His dimple announces his smirk as he glances over at me. “Ave, we are grown up. Next year we’ll even be out of school.”

  I tilt my head up to the blue, cloudless sky. “Yeah, I know. But still, it’s not like we’re going to stop living as soon as school is done. Just look at Nat and Chenzo.”

  Rax swallows and nods, bending to pick up another pebble, which he stares at for a moment. “True. It does seem like there’s a lot ahead of us still.”

  “Yeah, when you and Zeph get engaged, I better be the first to know.” I meant it as a joke, but as the words leave my mouth, my throat constricts so bad my voice nearly breaks.

  “What?” Raxtin bursts. His throw goes completely off balance and the rock whistles through the air at an odd, sideways angle. He plants his hands on his hips, frowning toward the pond, his foot kicking at the stones beneath him.

  That was a dumb thing of me to say. Especially with the two of us out here like this. “That sounded weird. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. I just mean we’ve been friends for so long that when things start to change and happen in our lives, I don’t want to lose track of each other. I didn’t mean you and Zeph HAD to—you know, and—”

  Raxtin holds up his hand, nodding for me to stop. His lips ease into a small smile. “It’s ok, Averi, I know. I get what you mean. I’m not upset at you.”

  I exhale a humungous breath. Why do I say stupid stuff like that? “Oh, good,” I respond.

  He cocks a brow, watching me from the corner of his eyes. “Are you upset?”

  I’m startled by his question. “What do you mean?” Am I upset? I suppose I do feel a little upset. But why?

  He shrugs, but the motion is far too rigid to come across as casual. “I mean, are you angry?”

  There’s a warm heat in the pit of my stomach. It feels like a small cauldron is starting to bubble and boil. “What would I be angry about?” Just spit it out already and stop baiting me, Rax. If you’re going to ask how I really feel about you and Zeph, ask.

  He lets out one humorless chuckle and stoops to pick up another stone. His jaw is working and bulging as he stares down at it. “I guess if you have to ask, then that’s probably my answer, isn’t it?”

  Is he really giving up that easily? I guess it’s probably good. I don’t even know exactly why I’m mad about it, besides that it’s made everything weird.

  He keeps turning the stone over and over, watching its sleek surfaces catch the light. “I’m sorry Zeph put you on the spot the other day with the whole escort thing. That was really thoughtless of her,” he says.

  Why is he sorry? “That? Don’t worry about it. I mean, yes, it was awkward for sure, but it all worked out ok.”

  He takes a deep breath and smiles at me. “Oh yeah? How’s that?” He turns and raises his arm, rock pinched between his fingers, ready to throw.

  I suddenly feel like my hands need somewhere to hide, so they dive for my pockets. “Lander asked to go with me, and I said yes.”

  Raxtin launches the stone. This one lands with a great splash at least twice as far as any others he’s thrown.

  We’d better stop our conversation or he might lose the ability to skip rocks altogether at this rate.

  He clears his throat. “That’s great,” he says, but his words still sound strangled. He does that irritated neck roll of his.

  “Thanks. It is. It’s better than going stag, anyway.” My face is burning clear up to my ears. And there’s a tight feeling in my gut, like I’m ready for a full-out brawl. Why am I so defensive about this?

  With the toe of his shoe, Rax flips over several stones and a few muddy insects scurry to find new hiding spots. “I’m glad for you,” he says. “Glad you don’t have to go alone.”

  No, you’re not, you liar. I really think he’d rather I go by myself. Jerk.

  Rax squints over at the sun, drawing a sharp breath through his nostrils. “I think it’s time we head back now. Thanks, Averielle. It’s been nice breaking the rules with you.

  “Yeah. You too. Thanks for rescuing me from listening to the crazy lady I live with.”

  He smiles at me and taps his band. “Anytime.”

  I smile back, rubbing the band over my own arm. At least he can still stand to look at me with those hazel eyes and smile.

  Without another word, we head back to our bi-peds.

  As I walk up to my door, the appearance of Lander from a shadowy corner startles me and I stifle a scream.

  He gives me his crooked smile and shakes his head real slow. “You’re never going to live down your awesome shrieking ability if you keep employing it.”

  “And you’re never going to get off my bad side if you keep lurking in the dark and scaring me.”

  “Scare you? What’s so scary about me knocking on your door? Unless of course you’re supposed to be staying behind it and aren’t.” He crosses his arms and appraises me.

  I feel the color drain from my face. I hadn’t thought of that. “You knocked and asked for me? Oh, crud. I’m so dead.” My hand flies to the door handle, as if rushing in will lessen the trouble I’m in.

  “Easy, easy. Calm down.” He puts his hand over mine and steps closer. “I was about to knock on your door. I didn’t actually do it yet.”

  My heart slows a little, but the pressure of his hand on mine doesn’t allow it to lessen by much. My eyes dart down to our hands and back to his face. He lifts his off.

  A new concern hits me. Does he realize my tracker said I was home? “Why didn�
��t you knock?”

  He leans lazily against a wall, pulls out his Pocket Palm and tosses it twirling into the air, then deftly catches it. “Guess I just had a feeling. You ever get those?”

  This sounds like a trap. “Feelings? What kind?”

  He straightens from the wall and steps closer to me until there’s little space between us. I would move farther away, but the door has me pinned. “You know,” he says in a low, intimate voice. “The kind that give you the sense someone isn’t being completely above board. That they’re hiding something from the people around them?”

  His vibrant blue eyes bore into mine.

  I swallow hard. He is really close. I shift my weight then blink to break his eyes’ hold on me. “Guess not, ’cause I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to sound as light as I can.

  He smiles to himself then tilts his head back and releases a sigh. “Well, that’s no fun. You should pay closer attention; people in this village are riddled with false appearances.”

  He’s trying to get me to out myself, but it’s not going to happen. “Oh really?” I challenge. “For example?”

  “All right.” His face suddenly becomes so grave it throws me. “For example, me. I’m not being upfront about what I’m actually doing here.”

  I fold my arms around myself and my eyes do a quick sweep of the hall. His words feel eerie, like there’s more truth in them than what he actually said. “Oh? What are you doing here, then?”

  In his gaze, I can see a wall go up, cool and smooth. He flashes one of his polished grins. “I’m pretending that I come here because we have an assignment together. In reality, I just think it’s cool to hang out with you.”

  I exhale and feel an odd sense of both ease and suspicion. “Oh, is that all?” I say. Did he just say he’s coming around because he likes me? I wish that didn’t send a thrill coursing through my whole body, but it kind of did. Ok, it definitely did.

  There’s a playful look dancing in his eyes as he watches me through his blond, straggly bangs.

  I turn away before I really make a fool of myself. “Let’s slip inside before we get caught.”

  I check my Pocket Palm to make sure Mom’s still busy, then we go in.

  Thankfully, since school is out now, I can let Mom know Lander’s here. We head to our main frame room and settle in front of the computer.

  I hang my purse on my chair. “So did you find something new?” I ask.

  He purses his lips and nods.

  “Your birth video?” I guess.

  He shakes his head side to side and narrows his gaze at me. “Yours.”

  I frown and roll my eyes. “No thanks. I’ve already seen it. Remember?”

  He pulls out a small grey data byte. “Not this you haven’t.” Then he reaches around me—unnecessarily, I might add—and plugs it into the port.

  The projo-screen shimmers into existence in the air before us. The recorded footage is not from the baby warmer; it’s from a security camera. A man with dark brown hair like mine is standing beside my mom. In his arms, wrapped in a gory-looking blanket, is a squirmy pink infant.

  A knot instantly chokes my throat. I know his face. I don’t know how exactly, but I know it. Seeing him makes my chest throb worse than it ever has. Without thinking really, my fingers find the shears in my purse and trace the handles as I keep watching.

  The man is beaming at the baby in his arms and playing with its tiny fingers. “We’re naming you Averielle. Do you want to know why?” he coos. “Because Averielle means woman of strength. You are just that, my beautiful little baby. You are a beautiful woman of strength. Don’t you ever forget that! I love you, Averielle.” He tenderly kisses the chubby cheeks of the child, then presses the bundled infant to his torso, shutting his eyes with a smile of sheer joy.

  Tears are streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks. I bite the knuckles of my free hand and choke on a sob. My eyes continue to stare in disbelief at the image of myself in Alex’s arms. My dad’s arms. I had a dad. A real dad. Where did he go?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lander pauses the video. “Are you all right?” he asks softly, his hand touching my shoulder.

  I give a brisk nod, eager to keep watching.

  He resumes the footage.

  Dad continues to bounce me in his arms, as baby me fusses and squirms. “April, do you want to meet your daughter?”

  He holds me down low so she can see, but she uses her Pocket Palm camera like a lens to view me through instead of looking at me directly.

  Then the younger version of my mom’s voice baby talking, the one I heard from the other video, starts up. “Hi, Averi! Aren’t you so sweet, honey! Oh, just a second, someone’s commenting on my share.” She starts scrolling on the Pocket Palm interface. “Oh, it’s my friend Janice. Oh, she thinks you’re a cutie too. Oops, and here’s someone else . . . hold on . . . just let me check this.”

  Dad pulls me back into himself as Mom goes quiet, lost into her virtual, distorted realm of reality.

  “You know,” she says, smiling and still scrolling on her hand-held screen, “if you’d stick her in the warmer, I could see her a lot better.”

  Dad’s expression falls slightly and he gives a soulful sigh. “April, if you would put down that device, you’d see her even clearer.”

  Mom’s wide smile turns momentarily into a foul grimace and she swats at the air in his direction. “Psh! This is the world she lives in. She’ll have to get used to it sooner or later. Besides, the literature says that for new infants, Face Chat time with their mother is a crucial moment in their brain development.”

  Dad’s eyes are fixed on me. He snuggles me up under his chin, and then again to his chest. He has the most genuine, happy smile I’ve ever seen on someone’s face. A tear escapes his eyes and rolls down his cheek. “This,” he says, patting the bundle of me, “This is the most important time our children could have with us.”

  A nurse bursts into the room. “What are you doing! You can’t hold the baby; it’s against policy. Put it back in its warmer at once.”

  Dad’s arms slide tighter around me. “This is my child, and I’ll hold her if I want to, policy or not.”

  “Mr. Caster, she is a GAP and belongs to the future of the human race. If you should accidently drop her, it won’t be you who suffers the bodily injury. PUT HER BACK.”

  The video abruptly ends.

  We both stare at the now-empty air in silence for a long moment.

  “How did you get this? Was there any more of it?” I ask, still staring at the place in the air as if it would make the footage keep going.

  Lander shakes his head. “Jett figured it out, but that’s all there was. Pretty interesting, though, don’t you think? Do you still wonder why you don’t fit in very well?”

  I glower at him. “No. I fit in fine. What I’m trying to work out is how on earth I wound up living with my mom. From this”—I gesture to the empty air in front of us—“it seems pretty obvious he wanted me. I mean, did you see his face? And that’s another thing, you could see his face. His actual face, not just a projection of it. He wasn’t ‘lost,’ and he clearly knew my Mom.”

  I dig my fingers across my scalp and knot them in my hair. Mom has so much explaining to do. Too bad I’ll be lucky to get a full three sentences out of her.

  Lander clears his throat and pats my back. “I’ve got some stuff to do. I’ll leave the data byte with you so you can digest this a while.”

  I nod that I heard him but still feel too astounded to do anything besides wave goodbye over my shoulder as he goes.

  My dad was there, and not just physically. He was there with me.

  Another day in isolation and it feels like a year at least. I don’t know if I can take one more day of this. Thank goodness tomorrow Mom has her mandatory nature time. It’s the only day of the week she’s required to drive herself out of the building and sit in the open sunlight for an hour. The solitude for me will be marvelous.


  Raxtin didn’t come to visit today, but that’s ok, I guess. As for Lander, I haven’t heard from him either.

  Zeph and Kachina messaged me about all the gossip, even though I don’t really care that I missed it. The most interesting happening of the day was a public service announcement saying there was an unexpected meat shortage, and that all meat-based products (which encompasses every dish worth eating) is off the menu. I think I’m already feeling withdrawal symptoms and it’s only been two meals. Maybe it’s just stir-craziness getting to me, but I swear I’ve got the ‘shakes,’ like Tish when she needs a fix.

  “Averielle!” my mother practically shouts across the table at me.

  The sound snaps me back to the present: steamed veggies and tofu smothered in gravy. Yummy.

  Mom’s projo-screen hovers in her air space between us, like a specter, casting an artificial glow. She clears her throat and starts again. “Averielle, as I said several times now, I am going right to bed after this to rest up for my outside time tomorrow. I want to get it over with first thing in the morning. So no loud activities or that dreadfully strange talking to yourself tonight. I need my sleep.”

  “Ok, Mom, I’ll be extra quiet tonight.” I look down and stir my veggies into the pale, greyish gravy. “Silent as the grave.”

  “What was that?” she asks.

  “Nothing.” Then I remember the birth video. “Mom, why did you name me Averielle?”

  Mom’s eyes are darting all over her screen as she clicks at her game with one hand and eats with her other. “Because my name is April and Grand’s name was Ann, so another A name just made sense.

  So Dad was the one who actually named me. Pretty cool. I clear my throat and straighten. “Mom, can I ask you a question or two about my dad?”

  Mom makes that weird jerking frown, followed by vigorous clicking. She must be in a virtual crunch zone. “Averi, you know I always love visiting with you, but—oooh!” She stops mid-sentence and clicks aggressively with a mumbled update about what’s going on in her game. “Averi, this really isn’t a good time. Your questions are always very involved. I need some me time. I don’t want to spend it working through your issues when you could just see a health assistant or that counselor about it.”