Genesis Girl

by Jennifer Bardsley

  “You’re nothing like Seth at all,” I say, “despite your chip-watch. He destroys people’s lives for a living. He digs up dirt. He publishes secrets. Veritas Rex is the dirtiest virtual tabloid I’ve ever seen.”

  “And how many online tabloids have you seen?”

  I stab more veggies. “Only this one. But I’ve read all about them in my textbooks.”

  Cal smiles, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Textbooks? Printed pages are yesterday’s news. That’s why Viruses like Seth are so successful. They’re on the front lines of stories. Yes, sometimes they go too far and sometimes they break the law, but they share information that people care about.”

  “More like steal information that’s none of their business.”

  “Sometimes, yes.”

  “Viruses hurt people,” I say. “Some of them are violent!”

  “Seth’s not. He’d never assault anyone to get a story.”

  “Physical violence isn’t the only way to cause harm.” I think about the Tabula Rasa parking garage and the instant when Seth ripped all my future plans away. “Viruses hurt people. I can’t believe you’re defending them.”

  “I’m not defending them, I’m illustrating a point. What Viruses do isn’t black and white. In many cases, they’re public workers. They bring knowledge out into the open. And even if they were entirely in the wrong, Seth is still my son. Virus or no, he’ll always be my flesh and blood.”

  I take a deep breath. I hope I haven’t offended Cal. I know better than to have argued with my purchaser. Thankfully Headmaster Russell isn’t here to witness my infraction. I shiver, remembering my training.

  I have to be sure. Can I trust Cal? Can I trust him to know what he wants?

  “You want to be a father again,” I say. “But just to Seth, right? You’re not looking to start over?” It never hurts to clarify.

  Cal’s eyebrows shoot up and then furrow. “No,” he says quickly. “I want a second chance with Seth, that’s it. One kid who hates me is enough.”

  Okay then. Now’s the time to make Cal feel important. That’s what Barbelo Nemo would say. If you want to control somebody instead of be controlled, tell that person what they want to hear.

  “Then you need to stop thinking of yourself as a bad father,” I say, “and start thinking of yourself as a good person who’s on the road to getting his son back into his life.”

  Cal doesn’t say anything. He stares down at his asparagus.

  “A grand gesture,” I continue. “You’re showing Seth that you’re the type of father who will do whatever it takes to win back his son. How can Seth say no to that?”

  “Do you think it will work?”

  “Of course it will. If you want to be a good father, then I want that too. I’m going to make it happen.”

  I say that because I have to, never mind that I still don’t know where I fit into all this. Cal wants to be a father to Seth. Not to me. What will happen when this is all over? Does Cal want me to lure Seth or be with Seth? Is there still a chance Cal wants me for himself afterward?

  “Do you think tomorrow night will work?” Cal asks. “I know that if I invite the McNeal Solar Enterprises board of directors to a party in your honor, they’ll come. But what about Seth? He’s never bothered to show up before.”

  “He’ll come,” I say, tapping on my platinum cuff. I fake a confidence I’m not sure I deserve.

  “I hope so.” Cal folds his napkin. “I’m banking on it.”

  Chapter Four

  Wrap me in silk, twirl me around, and tie up my chest with diamonds. My bare arms are cold, even though Cal has every fireplace in the house burning. I lean into his shoulder and drape my wrist around his arm. His wool jacket is scratchy but warm.

  “I didn’t think I’d be so nervous,” Cal says as we descend the stairs. There are executives everywhere, filling up the great hall. The McNeal Solar Enterprises board of directors is out in full force, watching my every step.

  “You’ll be fine.” I try to sound reassuring, but I’m not used to so many strangers. Invisible butterflies beat in my stomach. In mere seconds, an older lady in a sequined top approaches, her black hair pulled tight in a French twist with a fleur-de-lis inked on her neck.

  Cal whispers in my ear. “Here comes Nancy Robinson, my attorney. Don’t let her manners fool you. Nancy is a shark, and the whole board listens to her opinions.”

  “Cal, darling!” Nancy gushes. “I’ve been dying to come as soon as I got the invitation.” She holds out her hand to be kissed, which Cal does, graciously.

  “Nancy, I’d like you to meet my new daughter, Blanca.”

  “Daughter?” Nancy’s tattooed eyebrows arch. “Is that what you’re calling her?”

  “Yes,” Cal answers.

  “How … unexpected,” Nancy says. There’s an uncomfortable pause. Other guests join the circle, hungry for information.

  I want to tell Cal he doesn’t have to say anything. His private business is just that— private. But Cal’s not a Vestal, so he keeps talking. “My wife, Sophia, was fascinated by the Vestals.”

  Nancy’s jaw sets into a fake smile, and her teeth glisten. “Sophia was a wonderful person,” she says. “A true genius.”

  I feel Cal’s arm flex right below my elbow.

  “You’ll get no arguments from me. My wife was the most brilliant anthropologist Stanford ever had. And she was mesmerized by the Vestals. Sophia wrote her dissertation on Barbelo Nemo.”

  “That quack,” Nancy says, her face flat and shiny.

  “He’s not a quack!” I say.

  “She speaks!” somebody from the back of the crowd pipes up.

  Cal places a hand on my arm, already linked with his, and gives a little pat. “Sophia was inspired by Barbelo Nemo,” he says. “She was amazed that he could create something so powerful in forty-five years.”

  “Fifty, now,” I correct.

  “Whatever happened to Barbelo Nemo?” Nancy asks. Her gray silk skirt swishes around her.

  “That’s private,” I answer. Barbelo has retreated to Plemora now, his estate at an unknown location. But that’s nobody’s business either.

  “You mean you don’t know or you can’t say?” Nancy asks.

  Heat prickles up my spine as I feel everyone watch me. I know these strangers are hungry for information, but there’s no way I’ll betray my Brethren. So I offer a placid smile, straight from Ms. Corina’s lessons in charm and deportment.

  Cal clears his throat. “The mystery enchanted Sophia. She wanted to know the unknowable. Vestal secrets fascinated her. That’s why I knew Sophia would have been concerned about that picture of Blanca gathering unfavorable attention before her Harvest. She would have felt responsible. She would have wanted to do something.”

  “Because it was Seth who took the picture?” somebody says.

  “So it’s true then?” another guest asks. “Veritas Rex is Seth?”

  “Oh, please.” Nancy swats the air with her hand. “Everyone’s known that for ages.”

  “Yes,” Cal admits. “That’s not exactly privileged information.”

  “Seth’s picture really caused chaos,” Nancy says. “He stirred things up.”

  Cal nods. “I couldn’t let Seth ruin a young Vestal’s life. Sophia wouldn’t have wanted that.”

  Inwardly, I flinch. My life wouldn’t have been ruined, no matter what Cal thinks! There are many paths a Vestal can take, and they all have honor.

  Nancy looks right at me. “The news feed said there were several men after you.” I feel my skin turn clammy. “That man from Korea with the plastic surgery, a time-share billionaire from Florida, and the senator who got in trouble a few years ago with his intern.”

  I see delight in Nancy’s eyes as she witnesses the effect her words have on me. I fight harder to stay composed.

  “So happily for all, I get a new daughter instead,” Cal says, a little too brightly.

&nb
sp; The other party guests aren’t looking at me anymore. Their eyes are on Nancy, waiting to see how she responds. The wait seems endless.

  “Excellent,” Nancy says at last. “I’m so happy for you both.” Then Nancy throws her arms around me, and her earrings tangle in my hair. “Welcome to the McNeal Solar family, darling!”

  “Thank you,” I say, extracting myself.

  After that, everyone wants to take my picture. Most people spend their whole lives and never meet a Vestal in person. But Cal doesn’t let them.

  “Part of Vestal culture is not to be photographed,” he explains. “Unless it’s to sell a product.”

  Vestals give blessings freely, but never their image. Vestal privacy belongs to their company. Or in my case, to Cal. But he doesn’t want my picture out there either. That would ruin everything.

  “Are you the new face of McNeal Solar?” a guest asks me.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “I want Blanca to have a normal life,” Cal says. “There’s no need for her to do anything but simply be,” he lies.

  So the party continues. I eat shrimp, I drink water, and I sample strawberries. I shake hands as Cal leads me through the room. But I’m not here to make conversation.

  I am here as bait.

  I feel his stare before I see him. The whole room goes silent when he enters the room. Probably nobody but Cal and I expected Seth to come.

  He stands by the fire, dressed in a black tuxedo. He’s so cleaned up he’s practically a different guy than the one who was in my car a few days ago. Seth’s hair is slicked back, and the tattoos shoot up his neck from a starched white collar. His hands are in his pockets as if he’s trying to be causal, but his face is like iron.

  I don’t have to fake it. I’m completely stunned.

  It’s like I’m finally seeing Seth for the first time.

  And he’s blinding.

  Fast as lightning, I tell my hormones to shut down. Sure, Seth looks different from every other guy I grew up with from Tabula Rasa. Yes, my pulse races at the sight of him in a way it never has around Beau or Ethan. But I am a Vestal, and Seth is a Virus. He’s forbidden to me—unless my purchaser instructs me otherwise.

  Tonight I have a job to do, and that’s it. My heart pounds as I lean into Cal and stage-whisper, “Who is he?”

  It’s showtime.

  Cal squeezes my arm. Then he leads me across the room. “Blanca,” he says. “Meet my son, Seth.”

  Seth stares at me, at my shoulders and at my neck. Then he glances at his father with the coldest chill ever. “Blanca and I have already met.”

  “We’ve met? Right. If stealing my picture and getting kicked is your idea of an introduction, then we’re old friends. Too bad you didn’t bother telling me your real name.”

  Seth smirks. “I was kind of busy.”

  I turn to Cal and glare. “You knew?” I pretend to accuse him. “You knew Veritas Rex was your son, and you didn’t tell me?”

  Cal feigns hurt. “Blanca, I should have told you. I’m sorry.” His eyes meet Seth’s. “You’ve seen her, okay? Now it’s probably best if you leave her alone. You’ve done enough harm to Blanca already, so let her be and stay away.”

  I don’t wait to hear Seth’s answer. I flee.

  The white silk of my dress billows after me like a sail. When I get to my room, I leave the door open, on purpose.

  I don’t have much time.

  My skirt’s detachable, and I rip it off. Underneath I’m already wearing my white spandex pants. They match perfectly with my strapless silk top. I throw on my leather jacket, zip on my boots, and start to climb through the open window, right as Seth walks in. Exactly like Cal predicted he would.

  “He’ll do precisely what I tell him not to,” Cal told me before the party started.

  “Where’re you going?” Seth demands, bursting into the room.

  “To get some air.”

  “What are you gonna do, jump? It’s the second floor.”

  “There’s a ledge,” I counter.

  Seth crosses the room in about two strides and slides his arm around my waist, pulling me back. “I’ve got a better idea.” He sets me on my feet. “Let’s go for a ride on my bike.”

  That wasn’t the official plan, but Cal did say I could improvise. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.

  Ten million stars light up the night. I can hear music piping out of the manor, but Seth and I are outside, standing in front of the biggest motorcycle I’ve ever seen. It’s got the Veritas Rex cobra painted across each side.

  “Here you go, princess.” Seth hands me a helmet.

  A red helmet.

  “I can’t wear that.”

  “Safety first, angel.”

  Again with the mocking! I wish Beau were here to teach Seth some manners. Or Fatima. She’d probably say something cutting.

  “Sorry, Rex or Seth or whatever you name is. But there’s no way I’m wearing color.”

  And just when I think I’ve lost, like I’ve totally failed my mission tonight and am going to have to walk back to the party in shame, Seth reaches into a saddlebag and pulls out a white helmet. “Try this one.”

  That’s when I realize I haven’t lost. But it’s also when I realize my target is a lot cagier than I knew.

  When I put on the white helmet, it’s a perfect fit.

  So that’s how it happens. I’m on a motorcycle behind a Virus zooming through the night at top speed, my arms holding on to the guy for dear life. And Seth’s jacket isn’t scratchy like his dad’s; it’s smooth and tight, like him.

  Adrenaline rushes through my brain, flooding out lucid thought. I fight to remind myself of my mission. But it’s difficult because this is the first time I’ve ever really been outside. There’s no car, no lead, and no security force protecting me. It’s simply me, Seth, and the night. The freedom terrifies me, and I grip Seth tighter.

  Occasionally Seth stops, when we come to a red light or an intersection, and people snap my picture. Am I a real Vestal or a copycat in white? They scan me to find out and shake their hands when their finger-chips register nothing. I have no virtual profile to bounce back.

  Hopefully most people can’t tell which Vestal I am under this helmet. But the possibility makes me quiver.

  Sometimes the other drivers don’t see us at all. They’re driving away and finger-chipping at the same time. Seth swerves more than once so we don’t get hit by idiots.

  When Seth rolls to a stop at the top of a canyon, every square inch of my skin tingles with excitement. He takes off his helmet, so I pull off mine too. Nobody can see us up here. There aren’t any eyes watching, only a cozy bench to sit on, under an ancient oak tree.

  Seth helps me off the bike. “So you and my dad … ”

  “Yes.” I take a steadying breath, and my chest heaves against the boning of my corset.

  “He’s a real douchebag.”

  “No. He’s not.”

  Seth snorts and loosens his tie. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course I do.”

  I sit down on the bench, and Seth joins me two seconds later. Warmth radiates between our touching legs.

  “Isn’t my dad, like, thirty-five years older than you?”

  “So what?”

  “So what?” Seth scratches his jaw. “Doesn’t that creep you out?”

  “Oh wait. You think —”

  But before I can finish my sentence, Seth types the air. He pulls up Veritas Rex, and then I see the video.

  There’s Calum McNeal and a redheaded woman in bed. There are twisted sheets and nakedness everywhere. Seventeen-year-old Seth walks in on them, shooting video from his hand.

  “What the hell are you doing, Dad?” teenage Seth yells.

  The redhead turns away. You can’t see her face because she tugs up the sheet. Cal looks guilty. Sweaty.

  “Son?” he starts to say. “It’s
not what it—”

  But then the video cuts out, and you never hear what Cal says next.

  “I did not want to see that,” I say, with all sincerity.

  Seth shakes his fist, and the image disappears. “That was a week before my mom died. The asshole was screwing another woman when my own mother was dying of brain cancer!”

  “Seth—”

  “And now you’re doing him too!”

  “I am not!” I leap to my feet. “It’s not like that at all.”

  “Yeah? Then what’s it like. Tell me. Why does an old man spend thirty-two million dollars on an eighteen-year-old Vestal?”

  “Because he’s lonely. Because he wants a daughter.”

  “A daughter?” Seth flexes his neck. “I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s true. He misses you. He misses your mom. He’s lonely, and—”

  “Don’t talk about my mom!” Seth jumps up and kicks the tree trunk with his dress shoe.

  I follow him, and we stand underneath the branches.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. And I genuinely am. What happened to Sophia was awful.

  “You have no right to talk about her, and neither does my dad!”

  I wait a second, not saying anything.

  “She was a good mom,” Seth whispers. “The best.”

  I put my hand in his. I’m not sure he notices.

  “She didn’t deserve any of that crap. That’s why I posted the video online. That’s why I started Veritas Rex.”

  “She deserved better.”

  Seth thinks I’m agreeing with him. “Yeah.” He nods. “She did.”

  It’s hard not to get riled up when the conversation has turned to everything I stand for as a Vestal. “It’s not only the video, Seth. Your mom didn’t deserve to die in the first place. There never should have been a cancer epidemic. As soon as people realized cell phones were evil, they should’ve stopped using them.”

  Seth looks at me, bemused. “I wouldn’t go so far to say cell phones were ‘evil,’ but they were shitty technology.”

  Even now, he’s completely brainwashed.

  “Shitty technology that killed people! And the tech companies didn’t care. They wanted money, and the customers wanted tech. It’s disgusting! The Brain Cancer Epidemic was the whole reason Barbelo Nemo founded Tabula Rasa to begin with.”