Genesis Girl

by Jennifer Bardsley

  “Let’s talk about your hair first, shall we? That’s the simplest issue to solve.” Ms. Lydia brushes my hair. As she does, the old memory calls from my psyche. I am loyal. I am discrete. I follow the rules. Brush. Brush. Brush. She makes long strokes from crown to tips. “You’ve always had the most beautiful hair,” says Ms. Lydia, “ever since you were a baby.”

  “You knew me when I was a baby?”

  “Yes,” says Ms. Lydia, brushing away. “Tabula Rasa was different in the early years. Less structured. I used to help out in the nursery.” She pins my hair around the crown, coiling it into a roll. “We didn’t have thirty-two-million-dollar Harvests back then, making life easy.”

  I know a compliment when I hear one. It makes me bold.

  “Did you know that I come from Nevada?” I ask.

  Ms. Lydia pauses mid-pin. “Nevada,” she says carefully. “What makes you think that?”

  “That’s what Headmaster Russell said about me at the Harvest. He said I was from Nevada.”

  Ms. Lydia rolls her eyes. “Russell will say anything to rile bidders up. That’s one of his strong suits.”

  “So I’m not from Nevada?”

  Ms. Lydia opens her mouth to answer, but then she stops. Finally she says, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  “So you don’t know who my parents are?”

  Ms. Lydia doesn’t say anything. She shakes her head.

  I bet she’s disappointed in me for asking. So I fix things right away. “It doesn’t matter where I’m from. The only thing that matters is that I’m a Vestal.”

  “That’s exactly right,” says Ms. Lydia. My hair is done, and she puts our faces close together, looking at our reflections in the mirror. “And now we can be together forever. Are you happy that I’ve come here?”

  “Yes.” I beam a smile. “It’s almost like you’re my Vestal-mom. Like we’re a real Vestal family.”

  “Darling, I’m so happy to hear that!” Ms. Lydia takes my hands in hers. “You know, I’ve told my purchaser about you.”

  It’s the first tidbit of information Ms. Lydia has ever shared with me about her situation.

  “You have? You still see him?”

  “Yes,” says Ms. Lydia. “He loves hearing about you. He knows how hard it has been on me all these years to never have a traditional Vestal family.”

  “That’s the problem with going Geisha, isn’t it?”

  Ms. Lydia nods. “Yes. But now I’ve got you, and I can do whatever is necessary to stay close to you and make you my daughter.”

  It’s a golden ray of happiness, hearing that Ms. Lydia is choosing me as her Vestal-daughter. It’s almost like she’s choosing me over everybody else.

  But it’s that last thought that makes me wonder. Ms. Lydia wants to be with Cal too, right?

  “About your hair,” Ms. Lydia continues. “I don’t think you should cut it. I wore my hair long like this when I was your age too. Now tell me about Trevor.”

  “Trevor?” I ask. Everything swirls around in my mind, and I can’t think straight. Cal has been so happy since Ms. Lydia joined our lives. She’s not tricking him, is she? No, that’s just that bastard Seth putting ideas in my head.

  “Was your last date with Trevor more successful? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  “Yes, Ms. Lydia. It was. Trevor made me think everything was perfect.”

  “That’s a funny way to put it. Wasn’t it perfect?”

  “No.” I look down at my cuff. “Sarah kept staring at us.”

  “Sarah?” Ms. Lydia quickly puts down the hairbrush. “We don’t mention that name anymore.”

  “So, I’ve gathered,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sarah being Lilith?”

  “Tell you? I thought you knew. You’ve known Sarah for a long time.”

  “But what happened to the real Ms. Lilith?”

  “Sarah is the real Lilith. She’s completely legitimate.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” I protest. “What happened to Ms. Lilith number one? Where’d she go?”

  Ms. Lydia glances across the room at the freshly painted walls. Her lips press together and form a thin line. “Her work was done,” she says simply. “Lilith was needed elsewhere.”

  “Was her contract up?”

  “Really, that’s none of your concern.”

  “None of whose concern?” Cal asks, suddenly coming in. He’s got his toothbrush in his hand, like he was out for a stroll.

  “Nothing, darling.” Ms. Lydia smiles and tilts her head to let Cal kiss her cheek.

  It doesn’t matter that Ms. Lydia didn’t tell me the whole truth. It doesn’t matter that she kept the details from me. Seth is wrong about Ms. Lydia, I know it. You can’t ever trust a Virus. That’s what Barbelo wrote, and he’s always right.

  I think I was wrong about Cal too. I always thought he was a horrible actor. I thought he wore his heart on his sleeve. But you’d never know now that he helped rescue Fatima. He seems calmer and happier than ever. Every time he looks at Ms. Lydia, he smiles harder and harder.

  And she eats it up.

  I get up to go. Right before I close the door behind me, I hear Cal say, “Lydia, my love, do we need to go to this banquet tonight? Let’s send Blanca on her own and enjoy some time to ourselves.”

  I never hear Ms. Lydia’s answer. But an hour later when Alan drives me away to my second Vestal banquet, I am the sole passenger.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You’re the only one I want to do this with,” Ethan says to me. “I’ve been waiting forever.” Ethan’s showing me something private.

  We are hidden behind a ficus tree in the corner of the room at the Vestal banquet. The music and dancers swirl around us a few feet away. But tucked where we are, nobody can see us. We are completely hidden.

  The first time I went to a Vestal banquet, Ms. Lydia made us leave early. Now I know why. After dinner, the lights dim and the music cranks up. The whole room becomes dark and shadowy. It’s exactly like Fatima said it would be: the perfect place to hook up. Probably Ms. Lydia didn’t want Cal to see all of that.

  Before dinner, I spent the whole banquet dancing with Trevor. But then we got separated somehow, and Ethan grabbed my hand. The music was so loud that he put his mouth right next to my ear. “I have to show you something,” he hissed. “It’s important.” Then he pulled me away into a secluded corner.

  Ethan’s left his glasses at home, but he has his white suspenders on. It’s his signature look. He slouches against the wall so that he doesn’t tower over me like a scarecrow. “Can you see anything?” Ethan holds up his wrists.

  I look at his palm, his fingertips, and the top of his hand. “No, nothing.”

  “Exactly. They’re brilliant.”

  “What are you talking about?” I shouldn’t be here in the corner with Ethan. Trevor will come back soon. “What’s brilliant?”

  “The new invis-chips,” Ethan says. “They’re so small you can’t see them with the naked eye.”

  “You’ve got finger-chips?” I say, a little too loudly.

  “Shhh!” Ethan puts his finger on my lips. “It’s a secret.”

  “But your vows! What if Headmaster Russell finds out?”

  “He’s not going to find out.” Ethan flexes his hand. “They’re nearly invisible, remember?”

  I pick up his hand and look at it more closely. I don’t see anything until tiny blue pinpoints catch my eye.

  Ethan’s connected.

  “Have you been online?”

  “Yes, and it’s the best thing ever.”

  “What?” My neck is so tight it feels like it could snap.

  “We were lied to. The Internet isn’t evil. It provides instantaneous knowledge. It helps us connect with people all over the planet. There’s a whole world that we’re missing.”

  “But we’re supposed to miss it,” I say. “That’s how we stay safe.”

 
Ethan shakes his head. “It’s how they control us.”

  That’s when I realize how dangerous Ethan’s become. How I shouldn’t even be talking to him. I turn to go, and he stops me.

  “There’s this website called The Lighthouse.”

  I don’t say anything. There’s no reason for Ethan to know that I have any idea what he’s talking about.

  “Your Ms. Lydia?” Ethan says. “She’s —”

  He’s stopped by a rustle of leaves. I push Ethan into a darker, safer part of the corner just in time. Our space has been invaded by a lip-locked couple.

  It’s Trevor and Sarah.

  Trevor’s hands are under Sarah’s skirt, lifting it up. “Lil,” he says, moaning.

  She undoes his pants with nimble fingers.

  Ethan mouths Vestal-cest to me in the semidarkness. As if I hadn’t already figured that out for myself. Then he starts holding up his hand. He’s connected, and he’s corrupted.

  “No.” I push Ethan’s hand away. “Don’t film that.”

  “But he’s tricking you,” Ethan whispers. “They’re using you as their cover.”

  And it really hurts to know the truth. But posting it online for the world to see isn’t the answer.

  Ethan used to know that. Technology has alienated him already.

  Beau catches us slipping from behind the ficus tree. He gives Ethan the thumbs-up, jumping to the wrong conclusion.

  “You’re a popular lady tonight, Blanca,” Beau says. He spits his words out fast and grins ear to ear. “How about a dance?” At my nod, Beau takes me in his arms and spins me away.

  Once we’re out there on the darkened dance floor, Beau’s smile freezes like it’s plastered on his face. Then he whispers between his teeth. “Have you seen Fatima?”

  So that’s what this is about.

  “She’s safe,” I whisper back, trying to smile, like him. “I don’t know where she is, but she’s safe. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Don’t worry? This is all my fault!”

  “Of course it isn’t.”

  “Then whose fault is it?”

  “Nobody’s,” I answer. “It’s just the way it is.” I’m not sure if that’s the truth or not.

  I can feel Beau’s blood beat fast as I hold onto his shoulder. I can smell him sweat. His smile is turning false.

  “Neutral,” I remind him. “Placid, calm, not easily upset. Remember what Ms. Corina used to say.”

  There’s nothing better than neutral. Staying poised could get you through anything. Keep your face placid and everything will be okay. Because if somebody does know what you’re thinking, then you’ve already lost a little bit of your privacy that will never come back.

  “Headmaster Russell already cornered me tonight, asking me about why Fatima’s not here. What am I going to do?” Beau knits his forehead into a mass of wrinkles.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How will this work?”

  “I don’t know,” I say again. “But you have everything you need to achieve happiness.”

  “I don’t, Blanca. Not without Fatima. Not without my child.”

  We don’t get the chance to say anything else because the music stops. Beau spins me around in a final twirl, and there’s Trevor, waiting to cut in.

  “How’re you doing, beautiful?” Trevor asks me as the music starts up. He’s sticky under his white shirt and smells like cheap body spray.

  “I’ve been better.” I fight to stay calm.

  Trevor isn’t listening to me. He navigates our way through the dancers and steals glances at Sarah.

  I look too.

  She’s over by the water table talking to Headmaster Russell. The conversation appears animated. Sarah knocks over some water glasses on purpose and tries to stalk away. Headmaster Russell grabs her arm and then glares right at us.

  I feel Trevor’s muscles stiffen. He pauses, missing a beat, but keeps dancing. “Blanca, you’re beautiful,” Trevor says, not meeting my eyes. “Blanca, you’re perfect. I could dance with you all night.”

  I don’t want to dance with Trevor all night! In fact, I strongly consider rearranging that Soap-boy face of his until the only thing he can sell is Band-Aids. But I smile up at him anyway until Headmaster Russell lets Sarah go.

  “Where’s Ms. Lydia?” Trevor asks, like everything is fine. “Did you get the chance to talk to her?”

  “I most certainly did.”

  “Did you tell her how things are going? Did you tell her how much I want to be with you?”

  “Yes.” I’m smarter than this. Trevor’s trying to control me. I see that now. He’s giving me the full force of his Soap-boy smile.

  But Cal said I could choose about Trevor. He said I didn’t have to be with Trevor if I didn’t want to.

  So when Trevor starts in again about how pretty I am and how I’m such a great dancer, I make my decision. “Stop,” I say. “Please.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to do you a favor,” I say. “I’ll tell Ms. Lydia that you’re the best boyfriend ever, only I’m not interested.”

  “I don’t understand.” Trevor looks into my eyes at last.

  “I’ll tell her it’s my fault,” I whisper. “I know about the Vestal-cest.”

  Trevor’s usual clear skin floods with color and becomes splotchy. “How’d you find out?”

  “It doesn’t matter. But why’d you make me your target?”

  “I had to.” Trevor slumps his shoulders. “I was under directions.”

  “From who? Your company, or Ms. Lydia?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” Trevor says. “She wants you to be happy. For some reason, you’ve really captured Ms. Lydia’s attention.”

  “I’ll tell her I’m happy, all right.” I stick out my chin. Happier on my own, alone with the truth.

  I’m beginning to sound like Seth.

  The manor is quiet when I arrive home. There’s no Cal, no Ms. Lydia, and no Seth waiting to pounce.

  I don’t know why I’m disappointed.

  I thought at least Ms. Lydia would be there waiting up for me, to see how the banquet went. To hear Trevor talk, Ms. Lydia cares about me a lot.

  But Ms. Lydia’s not there tonight, and she’s not there the next morning either. When I ask Cal about it at breakfast, he says Ms. Lydia was summoned.

  “I have travel plans too,” he says. “I’ve some business to attend to that might take a few days. Will you be okay here on your own? Do you want me to call Seth?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know it.” Cal winks. “You’ve got good instincts, and you can think for yourself.”

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  “But it could be.” Cal smiles. “It could be.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sometimes people do things that are so wicked they don’t want anybody to know about their transgressions. Their secrets need ultimate protection. That’s where the Vestals come in. Our Archives are top-notch and so exclusive that only a select number of the most powerful people in the world know about them. We store wills, documents, passwords, and formulas. VIPs trust us because they know Vestals will never betray them online. Archive business is conducted strictly by word of mouth and priority mail.

  The Archives have been part of Vestal legacy ever since our inception. Barbelo began the Archives with the last specimen of the HIV virus in existence. Even today, countries argue about where that sample is hidden. Nobody knows the truth except the Vestals and the secret holders we protect.

  So when Headmaster Russell shows up at the manor and tells me that Ms. Lydia is in danger, I believe him, although I don’t want to. Headmaster Russell knows what he’s talking about because he’s the master of secrets.

  “Fatima disappeared three days ago,” Headmaster Russell says to me. We stand in the great hall, in a pool of colored light from the stained glass windows. “Now Beau is gone to
o.”

  “Beau’s missing?” Maybe that’s where Cal went. I haven’t seen Cal since yesterday, right after breakfast.

  “Beau’s gone, and my sources say that Ms. Lydia might be disappearing next.” Headmaster Russell glares at me sternly, the way he used to with the paddle in hand. “It’s imperative you tell me where Lydia is.”

  “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. But that doesn’t stop my skin from going clammy.

  “You’re lying!” Headmaster Russell snaps his fingers. “Tell me, Blanca. Tell me what you’re hiding.”

  I swallow back bile. Goose bumps prickle down my legs and tears blur my vision.

  Headmaster Russell practically growls. “What’s been going on here?”

  “That’s private,” says a voice from behind me.

  It’s Seth. He’s standing in the corner, next to the tapestry of the McNeal family crest. His palm is up, filming the whole scene.

  “I believe my father was clear the last time you were here,” Seth says. “Thirty-two-million dollars means you don’t interfere with Blanca ever again. What she knows or doesn’t know is none of your concern.”

  Headmaster Russell grits his teeth. “Put your hand down, Virus. This is a private conversation.”

  “Not anymore it isn’t.” Seth’s other hand types into the air. He turns his palm over, and I see my silvery image pop up on the floating screen.

  Seth uploaded me to Veritas Rex.

  “You bastard!” I cry. “You promised!”

  Headmaster Russell blanches. “Is that public?”

  “He’s put us on Veritas Rex!”

  Headmaster Russell gathers himself. I can tell by watching his jaw tighten that he’s plotting. He’s thinking about what he’ll do to Seth. And I’m very afraid because I’m not sure Seth understands the enormity of what he’s done and what he’s risked.

  “That was a very foolish move, young man,” Headmaster Russell says.

  But Seth snaps his fingers. “Time to go, Russell.”