The Bar Code Tattoo

by Suzanne Weyn

  Zekeal sighed. “This thing is huge now,” he said. “It might be more than we can fight.”

  Kayla had never heard him speak like this. He was usually so confident. His doubt worried her. Was he giving in? Had this new ruling about a required bar code shaken him that deeply?

  “What about Senator Young?” she asked. “You still believe in Decode, don’t you?”

  Getting up, he slapped the Tattoo Gen manual shut. “Dave Young tried, but look what just happened. It’s depressing. And after today, seeing what I saw in your father’s file … I don’t know.” Zekeal gently drew her up from her chair. “Let’s talk about it over here,” he said, leading her to his faded futon couch.

  They sat and he pressed his weight against her until she was lying back, beneath him on the futon. She wrapped her arms around his neck and, closing her eyes, let his warm lips press down on hers.

  They rolled together there, straining against each other. Outside, the rain came down with a steady beat. A steady beat … beat … beat …

  She is outside the white wall. People around her have fallen to the ground, knocked back by the blast. The man with her is very near. She still can’t see him clearly. There is smoke in the air. Fighter jets are above them. But no more explosives drop.

  “Send it away,” the man says to her telepathically. She sees that the people around her are looking up at the jet. Their eyes stare at it, unwavering.

  She stares at the jet, too. “Go away. Go away. Go away,” she tells its pilot, thinking hard on her message.

  The jet turns and disappears behind some clouds.

  The people stream toward an opening in the wall. No one speaks, but she hears their cries clearly in her head. “This way. This way into the city. Hurry.” She is running, following the others toward the opening in the wall.

  He’d stopped moving on top of her. “Kayla. Where are you?” he asked, sounding offended. “You’re not here with me.”

  Opening her eyes, she drank in his beautiful face. “I am here. I am. Really. I’m with you.” She pulled him to her and held him close, hoping he would never leave her.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I love you.”

  They had all arrived at the warehouse meeting, except Nedra. For once Kayla was anxious for her to come. Tonight Zekeal would tell Nedra that his relationship with her was over. After the afternoon she had spent with him, Kayla didn’t think she could go another minute sharing him with anyone else.

  “We’ll have to start without her,” August said after a ten-minute wait. “We have to completely rethink the next issue of the ’zine. It’s got to be much more forceful. And we need to think about what we’ll do if things get worse. We’re in an emergency now and —”

  The warehouse door banged open. Nedra strode across the warehouse. The unfamiliar clack of her footsteps told Kayla that Nedra wore high heels with the straight skirt she had on. Nedra didn’t usually dress like this.

  As she came into their circle of light, Kayla saw that Nedra’s arms and legs were covered up and down with colorful, swirling tattoos. It was impossible to tell if they were permanent or not.

  Nedra turned seductively in a circle, displaying her new body art. She sidled up to Zekeal and extended her leg through a slit in the skirt. His name was emblazoned in purple up its side.

  He stared at it, then up at Nedra. She smiled coolly back at him.

  “What’s going on, Nedra?” Allyson asked.

  “I wanted you to see the new me,” she replied. “The brand-new me,” she added, stretching her arms wide.

  A hushed gasp ran through the group. A bar code tattoo was clearly visible on her right wrist.

  “I don’t believe you did that!” Zekeal said to her.

  “I’m not getting arrested — not this girl. In fact, I’m out of here. Zekeal, you’d better come with me.”

  Zekeal got up and walked out with Nedra.

  “Well, game over. I never thought Nedra would do that,” August said.

  “Nedra goes where the power is,” Mfumbe noted. “She liked Zekeal and she thought we had a shot at winning this, so she came with us. Maybe she was just mad, like she said. Now, though, she thinks Global-1 is unbeatable, so she’s shifted her position to their side. Nedra’s an extreme person — whatever she does, she does it all the way.”

  “People who are extreme on one side lots of times become extreme on the other,” Allyson pointed out. “We’ve got to watch out for her now.”

  “I don’t think so,” August disagreed.

  “You wait and see,” Allyson insisted.

  Kayla couldn’t believe they were so calm. She was reeling from the scene she’d just witnessed. Zekeal had walked out with Nedra — and Nedra just got the bar code.

  What did that mean to the group? To her?

  “Did Zekeal just walk out on us for good?” Kayla asked them, struggling to keep her voice normal.

  “I guess they needed to talk,” Allyson suggested. “I’d be surprised if he’s gone for good.”

  “If he listens to her, he’s a fool,” August said.

  “We have to be careful how we handle her,” Mfumbe said. “She knows everything about us, and she’s not necessarily on our side anymore.”

  August took a map from his pocket and handed it to Mfumbe. “I’ve circled Lake Placid. It’s a pretty big town in the Adirondacks. We’ll all be able to find it.”

  “Shouldn’t we go somewhere more out of the way?” Mfumbe questioned.

  August shrugged. “We could meet and then get out of there pretty quick. None of us knows the mountains. I’m not exactly a mountain man. We might get lost.”

  “That’s true,” Mfumbe agreed as he scanned the map for Lake Placid.

  “Yeah, well … in the meantime, I have a pretty big problem I need to tell you guys about,” Allyson said. “You know I won that scholarship.”

  “What about it?” Kayla asked.

  “I can’t collect the scholarship without the tattoo now.”

  “Do you need the scholarship?” Mfumbe asked. “Your family is pretty well set up, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah. I need it because my dad’s being a real creep about this. He’s been wanting me to get the tattoo ever since I turned seventeen last August. He says that if I blow this scholarship, he won’t pay for college. He says I think credits grow on trees, blah, blah, blah, and all that. But it doesn’t really matter what he says. I can’t even get into college without the bar code.”

  “Let’s go online and hopefully some of the resistance websites can give us advice,” Mfumbe suggested. He took out his laptop and logged on. His face furrowed into frown lines as he tried to get into the different websites. August looked along with him, also looking worried after a few minutes.

  “What’s wrong?” Kayla asked.

  “This is weird,” Mfumbe told her. “None of the sites will open. It keeps saying, This page currently unavailable. The only one open is the Dave Young site. Let’s wait for Zeke to come back for that one.”

  Kayla glanced anxiously back at the door. What was going on? Were they finalizing their breakup? Or was Nedra winning him back?

  “I bet the sites have shut down because of the new law,” Allyson said. “They’re afraid they’ll get busted. Let’s try the headset.” She unlocked the case with her eye scan and picked up the helmet. “Who wants to go first?”

  August took the helmet from her and put it on. He set some dials and sat with his eyes shut. The rapid movement of his eyes told them that he had arrived somewhere.

  Beneath his lids, his eyes darted. Sometimes he frowned, or nodded. After five minutes, his eyes opened and he lifted the helmet from his head.

  “I got to the resistance hall in San Francisco, but nobody was there, just a custodian cleaning up the building,” he told them.

  Mfumbe went next. Like August, his facial changes and active eyes told them he’d reached a destination. Kayla glanced at him from time to time but never took her eyes from the door f
or long. What was taking so long? He should have been back. She was dying to see Zekeal, to be assured everything was fine.

  Mfumbe returned from his virtual experience and reported that the resistance site in Michigan was also empty. “Globalofficers came in,” he told them. “For a minute I thought they were going to arrest me or something. Then I remembered that I was really here.”

  Allyson tried to get to a resistance site in Orlando but also came up with a location without participants. “Is everybody hiding?” Allyson asked. “What’s going on?”

  Kayla took the helmet from her and set the numbers for Eutonah. Again the vibrations made her whole body tremble.

  And then she was there, on an outcropping near the mountaintop. Eutonah sat nearby at her campfire.

  She smiled at Kayla. “Come and sit,” she said. When Kayla was seated cross-legged on the dirt next to her, she continued, “What I’m about to say now will be important, so listen. The Dark Times that were foretold are being fully expressed. Stay focused on your truth. Move toward love and you will be safe.”

  Eutonah stretched toward Kayla and kissed her on the center of the forehead. Kayla felt engulfed in the woman’s powerful life energy. “You can come to us in time of need,” she said. “Remember the white face.”

  When Kayla reopened her eyes, the fire still burned, but Eutonah was gone. How had she disappeared so soundlessly?

  Kayla stared into the dark path beneath the towering pines, the place where Eutonah had probably gone. The trees shimmered in front of her eyes. It was as if they were separating into their molecular elements.

  And then she was back in the warehouse.

  “Any luck?” Allyson asked her. Kayla told them she’d found Eutonah. “She said ‘the Dark Times are here,’ or being fully expressed, something like that,” Kayla reported. “She also told me to remember the white face. What does that mean?”

  The group looked one to the other, then shook their heads. “No idea,” August said.

  “Listen,” Kayla said to the group. “Today Zekeal and I got a look at my father’s FBI file. We think it’s the file the bar code uses. His genetic code is in his file. Why do you think it’s there?”

  “It was really there? That’s it! I’ve had the feeling that there’s some definite connection between the bar code and genes for a long time now,” Allyson said. “Global-1 is lifting all the bans on human cloning at the same time they’ve made the bar code a requirement. There’s got to be a connection.”

  “You’re just obsessed with genes,” August said.

  “No — I agree with Allyson. I have that feeling, too,” Kayla jumped in. “All the genetic information on my father was represented as a bar code.”

  “I’ve seen that genetic bar code,” Allyson said. “It’s a creepy coincidence.”

  “I’ve seen it, too,” Mfumbe said. “You’re right. It’s bizarre.”

  “But what has it got to do with the bar code?” August wondered.

  “It’s information that no one knew was in there,” Kayla said. “But why is it in there?”

  “Don’t know,” Mfumbe said.

  When they went outside, they found Zekeal sitting on a rock by the edge of some trees. Nedra wasn’t with him. Kayla rushed to his side. “What happened?”

  “It’s over,” he said. “Done with.”

  She began to tremble. “Between us?

  “No! Between Nedra and me.”

  She took his hand, thankful.

  An open letter to my friends:

  I want you to be the first to hear this. Effective tomorrow morning, I have tendered my resignation from the United States Senate. I’ve done this in protest against the recent legislation making the bar code tattoo required by law.

  With all my heart I believe that this bar code branding is wrong. It’s dehumanizing, reducing each person to a number. I know we’ve been headed in this direction for nearly a century now. People have had social security numbers for ages, but that number was created to connect an individual to a social security account, not as an identity tag.

  Daily, I see fellow Americans who work hard, and have achieved a certain success, falling down the social and economic ladder for no ascertainable reason. Conversely, I see people rising in society at a sudden and meteoric rate. What information is contained in those bar code lines that is causing this? I challenge President Loudon Waters to stop denying there is some other information stored in the bar code and to come clean with the American people.

  I do not overstate the case when I say that the future of all humanity is at stake here. Now that this reprehensible bill has been voted into law, the need to act is more crucial than ever. I will remain available to you on this website and assure you that I will continue to fight as a private citizen.

  It is my sincere hope that all of you will stay informed and fight this insidious threat to our American values whenever and wherever it arises.

  With affection and respect,

  David Young

  “Do you need to get home?” Zekeal asked as they lay on the futon together later that night. Kayla was cradled in his arms. “It’s late. Will your mother worry?”

  “Depends how banged out she is,” Kayla replied sleepily. It had been a long day and she felt herself nearly drifting off. “She was pretty crazy when she walked out of the house, but she was more wired than looped. She’s probably been drinking since then and passed out by now.”

  “Was she always like that?” Zekeal asked, running his hand lazily up and down her arm.

  “No. She was great until my dad killed himself,” Kayla recalled. “A little tense maybe, but always there for me.”

  That was the last thing she remembered saying before falling into a dreamless sleep. When she awoke, she was alone, but heard the sound of the shower running.

  Zekeal’s computer was on and the Tattoo Gen manual was open beside it. The screen displayed a list of e-mails.

  Curious, she went to the table and saw that the first four e-mails were from Mfumbe, Allyson, and August, as well as an e-mail she’d sent him earlier in the day. But the second to last message was from Nedra. The last came from chtg@Tattoogen.

  With a quick glance at the bathroom door, she clicked on the last message.

  To: Agent ZM

  From: Agent CHTG–Tattoo Generation

  Congratulations on your excellent work. Your request to remain uncoded for an additional two months has been granted. Your connection to Decode has yielded valuable information. We appreciate your sending us candidate Harris as a trainee. She is a very promising young agent. We look forward to meeting the next candidate that you spoke about at our last session. We are confident that Ms. Reed will also be an asset to our group. Thank you for your most recent dispatch. Please make contact again at this same time tomorrow as per our usual schedule.

  Thanks again for all your fine service to Tattoo Generation,

  CHTG

  The room spun and Kayla gripped the table to steady herself. Zekeal was a Tattoo Gen agent? He’d sent Nedra to them, and now he planned to sway her to their side as well?

  She struggled with a total, dumbfounded lack of comprehension. The facts as she’d just read them refused to come together and make sense for her. It was as though her mind was unable to work.

  Zekeal was a double agent, working for Tattoo Gen while appearing to work with Decode. That was the simple truth that had so brutally assaulted her. It was the truth that there was no turning away from.

  Zekeal was a traitor.

  He was recruiting members for Tattoo Gen.

  A pain gripped her chest and she felt a tightening sensation. She struggled to breathe, swallowing large gulps of air. This couldn’t be true, couldn’t be real. But it was.

  The shower water shut off and Kayla turned to face the bathroom door, while her brain continued to scream at her in disbelief. He’s working for Tattoo Generation. Nedra, too. You’re his next candidate. That’s all you are to him.

  Zekeal
appeared, dripping wet, wrapped in a white towel. He’d never looked more gorgeous, but she felt no attraction to him. His dark eyes darted between the computer and her outraged face.

  “I’m your next candidate?” she asked in a voice thick with disdain and incredulity. Her mind was exploding now with rage. How could he betray her so brutally? How could she have been so absolutely, completely fooled?

  He approached her, reaching out and speaking tenderly. “Kayla, I was going to tell you. There’s no beating this thing. It’s everywhere now. I wanted to win you over to the tattoo side because I care about you. You won’t be able to do anything without the code.”

  Kayla stepped away from him, knocking the chair over behind her. “You lied to me!” she shouted. “And you’ve been lying to Mfumbe, Allyson, and August. But not to Nedra. The two of you have been in this together all along. Did you even break up with her today?”

  “Yes. I mean I told her that you and I’ve been seeing each other. I was completely honest about it. But she assumed that was just part of my work with Tattoo Gen.”

  “Is it?” Kayla yelled, wild with fury. “That’s what this has been about all along, hasn’t it? You just want another body to deliver to your group.” She spun toward the door.

  He grabbed her as she pulled it open. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Maybe it started that way, but —”

  “Don’t lie to me anymore, Zekeal,” she raged, tears flooding her eyes. “Just let me go!”

  “No! Not until —”

  “Let go!” she screamed, yanking free of his grip. Nearly blind with tears, she ran down the back steps.

  Lightning flashed overhead, and by the time she arrived at the bulletbus stop, the sky had opened. The ride home was punctuated with ear-shattering thunder and flashes of riveting light.

  At points she felt the urge to get off and get lost in the storm, maybe stand in a parking lot and let the lightning come for her.

  More than anything, though, she wanted to get home. It was that strong desire — the same one she’d felt the afternoon her father had slit his wrists.