Skin Trials

by S Y Humphrey

  Seren noticed that the Keeper was also very articulate and knowledgeable, possessing a southern accent but not so docile or soft-spoken. In fact she was fast and assertive. “You’re pretty fast there yourself with that laser gun.”

  Seren was intrigued. As soon as the girl wrapped up Seren’s leg, she stood up and grabbed her weapon. She never removed her slender helmet.

  “I have to get back up there. Sit tight and someone will be here to get you once we lead them away from here.”

  “Wait! Where is NG?”

  “I don’t know. I have to go now,” the Keeper. Seren watched her leave by crawling forward some, sliding aside a manual metal shield, with an opening covered by a large bush of roses. Stepping out, she slid the shield back, and Seren was left alone to listen to the battle above. Wooden boards, shrapnel, metal and heavy machinery almost shattered the earth above her. Cringing and jumping every time another large object skidded over her head, fell nearby, or exploded. Though she must have been six feet under, she could still hear frantic running and screaming.

  She wanted to run to the surface, wave her arms, and tell everyone to stop, to turn herself in, and plead with her father to end this if he would not hurt anyone else. But she couldn’t stop thinking of the scientist in the hole. How long had he been there? Whom had he helped? Who needed his help now, and was willing to give their life with the hope that they might receive it? Curled into a ball, covering her head, she remembered the venom in NG’s tone. As long as Dr. Terry was helping improve people’s genes, he was a threat to Jernigan’s game - high-tech apartheid.

  Listening to muffled anguish as the Guardians surely slashed and shot these poor people to their demise, Seren had never thought of their advanced technology this way. It had been to protect these people, and maintain order, so the people who wanted to live in peace could.

  She lay helpless in a protected hole doing nothing, and listening to people fight with their last shreds of strength. Should she go up there to stop it? To protect them, and help keep them alive? Try to negotiate a peace? If she did, her father would not let the scientist go. So she continued to lay in silence and listen to death, cringing and jerking with every scream or quake of the ground.

  After about what must’ve been an hour of fighting and screaming, the battle subsided, followed by quiet, except for the occasional scooting along the ground, pop or stray gunfire. Seren heard the sound of helicopters flying over, and more Guardians entering the area. She heard their combs of metal scraping through the carnage, and she knew they were looking for her dead body.

  “Not here, keep going. Units A and B, those trucks are headed toward Florida. Follow them. Units C and D, stay here and keep combing,” she heard an automated voice give commands. She listened to the machines fly onward, heard the last shots fired into the rubbery coveralls that seemed to lay on the ground now. Horror froze her, and pushed from her eyes in the form of tears streaming down her face.

  Seren was careful not to utter a sound or move a muscle, for she did not want to draw the hyper sensitive audio sensors of the Guardians, some of which she had designed herself. She was not sure if this opening was soundproof, so she held her breath while they swept over it.

  They had been trained to listen for vital organs. The sound of a heartbeat, slight movements, down to the shallowest breathing. So she remained completely still, and did not exhale, or swallow. She could hold her breath for a full three minutes, in case she ever incurred a problem with her oxygen while working in space. Listening to the metal scrape the tall grass, she knew they would comb for bodies once, and then scan electronically for weaponry or openings in the ground twice. The process would take several minutes. She grew dizzy, her lower leg was on fire, and the wetsuit burned her skin as she felt the sun’s heat once it rose higher with late morning. It brought the steamy humidity with it, making the airless underground hideout stifling. She listened for the last scanner comb through the grass. Her final bits of breath left her. The scanner kept moving. Just in case there were any devices remaining, she stayed as silent as she could while slowly filling her lungs again. Still, she did not move, nervous that some machine somewhere remained behind to stand watch.

  Time began to pass, and no one came for her. Finally, there was only silence, and she no longer heard the sound of machines flying overhead, or of combing against the ground. Weak from heat, she wanted to search for water to receive reprieve from the burning humidity. Streams of sweat trickled down her face while she lay supine. The girl said someone would come to get her, and so she waited. Occasionally, there was a pop of fire, or a scant explosion. Nevertheless, she fought not to move. Exhausted from not having slept back at the Slave Market, she also fought sleep now, too afraid she might snore, or have a nightmare, during which she might lash out or yell after seeing all the gore. So she lay in the dark, holding still, taking slow, subtle breaths. Hours must have passed while she listened to the pathetic silence.

  Sweaty, hungry and thirsty, she cringed in the dark. It had to be evening time now, and she had no idea if anyone knew she was still alive. If the people who were supposed to come and get her were still alive. How long was she to wait? She might have to leave on her own. She couldn’t stay here and starve or let her leg grow an infection that might cause her to lose it. She heard footsteps overhead, finally. Heavy and sure, as if they were boots.

  “Still haven’t seen anything else. We found nothing, and we’ve been searching all day,” she heard a human report. “You want us to burn these bodies?”

  She waited. A military soldier, reporting back to base. Maybe she should get up and pound on the ceiling over her head that formed the ground underneath him. A part of her wanted to. But would she go back to her old life now? Knowing what she knew, would she and her father always suspect one another of having alternative motives, of being double minded? How easily could she prove to him that she was still his loyal, faithful Seren? Now that the veil was pulled from between them, was she?

  “All right, boys! Head out. The word from Denver is leave the bodies here for a while, set an example for everybody else,” she heard the officer say. The boots passed onward.

  Several more hours passed. It must have been nightfall, because the heat only diminished slightly. She heard more footsteps, but they did not come from above. They seem to come from a direction next to her. As if sneaking, and trying not to step too loudly, they moved a few paces at a time. They came closer, and she was sure now. They were not overhead stepping down into the grass, but horizontal to her, approaching from from a connected hallway or tunnel. And the people must’ve worn socks. Large objects moved around her, shifting as if sliding or rolling over rails. Several minutes after the shifting sounds began, very faint light faded on. The closed space opened wider.

  Finally, a door slid up. Crouching, several Keeper fighters in space-suits scooted in on their elbows, from what appeared to be a narrow tunnel outfitted with metal. One of the soldiers removed the helmet. In the dim light, it was hard to make out the person’s face, until the shape of small dreadlocks poking out revealed it was NG.

  Letting out a huge sigh, Seren relaxed a bit. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  They hugged. “Let’s get out of here. You alright? I saw that alligator. Good job,” he said, and she could tell he was relieved to see her as well. Or maybe he was happy that his only leverage against her father was still alive and intact.

  “Well, you know, if I can take on you and Aurora, that alligator is nothing,” she said, smirking to which he laughed. His shoulders jerked harder than they should have, and she could see he was taking a moment to release his own terror. His sweaty, hot head fell against hers, and he breathed in some of the stifling air.

  He sucked it all back in and collected himself, and it seemed she felt the Earth beginning to shake.

  “It’s almost over,” he huffed, letting the air back out again. “We’re almost home free.”

  “How will we get out of here?” she asked.


  As soon as she asked, the earth shook again, and seemed to move around them. She heard something rumble to life, what sounded like an engine. From her experience, it sounded like a powerful aerospace jet engine, the kind that could take off and enter hyper speed within seconds. They began to move. An underground plane hangar!

  “They’re going to shoot us down from the sky!” Seren panicked.

  “No, they won’t. Your friend Kit gave us your reconnaissance stealth technology.” He began to unwrap her leg. “Let me check how deep these wounds are, see how long you can go before you require surgery.”

  She leaned back while he checked her wounds. Kit. She didn’t know whether to hate Kit now, or respect her. Even now, Seren was torn. These people had just given up their lives to fight their way out of this miserable existence. Perhaps Kit had come from a place like this, and had clearly used her high intellectual value at birth to elevate her status and use it for her people. So in a sense, Seren understood if Kit felt greater loyalty to the Keepers’ cause than she felt toward Seren. But how many Tier Fours had infiltrated Jernigan Industries just to collect information and trade secrets? Apparently, what these people fought for was much stronger and deeper than their status within Perfect Society. Seren marveled at it.

  “You’re okay for now, but it’s pretty swollen, and you’ll need it cleaned out before long,” he said as he poured cleaning solution over it right then.

  “Where did you find all of these people to fight for you? How did they train? Do they hate their government that much?” She asked him bluntly. She felt the plane taking off. The ground rumbled, and they heard tree branches and bushes scraping scraping the plane’s sides, as it left the Earth’s surface.

  “We didn’t need to find them, Seren. They were ready,” he answered, staring back at her resolutely. “You don’t have to look for the sun when it’s coming over the horizon after night. And you can’t stop it. Jernigan may have put these people down for now, but there will be more. You can’t hold down the light.”

  “NG! NG!” She heard his clink, as the voice of the busty waitress yelled for him.

  Right then, NG jumped as he remembered his friend left behind in South Carolina. “Is Pike all right?”

  “They won’t operate on him. Not until you deliver that girl,” came the distraught voice of the waitress. “And he’s near dead. But the doctors won’t touch him.”

  Seren watched NG sink, staring at her and he pounded his fist into the floor. “It didn’t work! Dammit!”

  “Give me the clink,” Seren said.

  She initiated CNP with Pike.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?"

  Instead of Pike's face, the faces of military analysts entered the screen.

  "Ms. Jernigan is that you? We are agents with the American Bureau of Investigation, and we are working closely with your father to secure your safe return home. We have an individual detained who said you allowed him to take your identity for the sake of receiving a critical blood transfusion. Is that correct?"

  “No, officer, that’s not correct,” Seren replied, changing her voice instantly. She made herself sound panicked and distraught. “Please, help me! I don’t know where I am! They forced me to give up my eye and finger impressions, and they are demanding that you release Dr. Lyle Terry and operate on the person you have there. Or they’ll kill me!”

  “Miss Jernigan, are you hurt? Where are you? Have they forced you to disclose classified information?"

  “Oh no… stop! Please don’t…!”

  She then cut the camera off.

  NG turned to her with an accusing glare. "You’re devious and low, just like him! You set us up and then go lie and pretend like you had nothing to do with it! You're the one who suggested we get Pike's surgery using you as leverage! So why are you pretending like this is our demand?" NG accused, poking his finger in her face.

  "You're already in trouble. If you’re caught, you’re going to be charged criminally anyway. Kidnapping, evading police, murder, attempted murder, terroristic acts. What difference does it make if I put this one on you?”

  “Why didn’t you take a stand? Make them do the right thing? Operate on Pike and release Dr. Terry? Why’d you just put on that stupid show?” he said, his voice rising.

  “Because there is no making him do the right thing!” Seren fired back. “If I don’t do this, if he thinks I’ve joined your side, I become a target too. He’ll destroy us both and you lose your only ticket out of all this.”

  “Destroy you? You’re his daughter. You can stand up to him!”

  “Wrong!” she said, flinging the clink at him. “Last week, I was his daughter. The longer I’m with you, the more I become some stranger who needs a reason to be close to him. The less reason he has to protect me. I don’t know what I am to him anymore. You took care of that. Thanks. Thanks a lot. We only survive now if I play this right.”

  Seren had known it since the night the Anthistemi exposed her. It was why she hadn’t asked any questions. Why she didn’t dare to think of who she really was. Why she had purposely forbid herself from learning. The moment she allowed herself to think too hard might become the moment her father sensed he no longer owned her. So she clung to whiteness unequivocally, faithfully, without batting an eye. She hadn’t wanted to end up like so many others. Or like Lyle Terry. In a hole at the bottom of the Earth where no one could find her light.

  16

  Midnight Strikes

  Seren awakened to gentle shaking of her shoulder. It was NG. “Come on, it’s time to switch again.”

  She couldn’t have been sleep but a few minutes, and had started to get comfortable. She was still groggy, and her leg felt a little numb. He took her arm and placed it around his neck, helping her to hop up. The door of the plane opened to reveal another space enshrouded in pitch blackness, where she could only make out grass and clusters of trees. She transferred from one dark box to another, and crawled amidst large metal canisters of unidentified liquid that she heard splashing inside. Sandwiched between the tall silvery canisters, she heard another engine, this time old and dated, it rumbled to life. NG entered, and plopped next to her, as did a small group of suited soldiers.

  “I don’t understand. How did they not see you enter the atmosphere and land?” Seren asked.

  “A lot of this has been a decade in the making. And I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you enough to tell you about that,” he snapped.

  “Did Pike get his surgery at least?” she asked. She couldn’t see NG’s movements in the dark.

  “Does it matter to you?” he asked in a hushed tone. He was angry with her.

  “What is this about?” she whispered.

  “You know what it’s about. That stunt you pulled back there was some yellow-belly crap.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Coward! You’re spineless,” he spat as they rode onward.

  She scoffed. “But did he get the surgery?” she insisted to know.

  “Yes!” one of the militia soldiers whispered. “Now will you hush up so we can get a little sleep?”

  So what she did had worked. NG tossed her a bottle of water, and a tightly tied small cloth of food, which she wasted no time fumbling apart. Chugging down the water, she savored every drop that wetted her parched throat. Then, she bit into the small breast of fried chicken, buttery biscuit, and buttered broccoli, cauliflower and carrots.

  “You’re foul. Just like your good-for-nothing father,” NG accused.

  “But it worked. I take it your law-breaking terrorist partner is still alive,” she snapped back. “You’re welcome.”

  They rode along in silence. Only the grumble of the long truck, the clanging of canisters and the splashing of liquid inside them filled the quiet. A few minutes into the ride, they made a few stops, Seren heard laughter and greetings from the driver’s cabin of the truck, and then, the sounds of lifting machinery could be heard. It slid underneath them, and she felt their box being lifted i
nto the air with all of them on it, and then transferred from one platform to another. More moans of the lift machine as they were lowered, and secured in place. Then she felt sliding, and eventually, tranquil rocking. They were on water.

  NG lifted his wrist to send a clink. “Package is in transit. ETA is ten to twelve hours.”

  “At least tell me what happened in Atlanta,” she asked.

  “We sent in decoys, one of them looking like you. You were right. Dr. Terry wasn’t there. And when they saw the girl wasn’t you, there was another battle. More people died. He just keeps taking them out. Mercilessly. I’m guessing from here he’s only going to be rougher,” NG’s voice shook.

  “Yes. He will likely send the Cavalry to burn everything in the next day or so. Scorched earth. Make the communities that helped you pay, so they never do it again.”

  “How do you love somebody like that? I know you believe in order, but how can you see people suffer, and sleep at night?” he asked.

  “People all over the world suffer every day. How much of it can we control? What kind of society do we want? A society of lawlessness, run by thugs? Or a society where at least some of the hard-working people can count on order?” she concluded.

  “You Tier Fives are just thugs with money.”

  “If it wasn’t him, it would be you, and regardless of all your ideals and fantasies, it would be no different. Talking about governing is one thing. Actually governing you people is another.”

  “You people.” It was NG’s turn to scoff while he scooted away from her. “I hope you go back to him, and that you burn with him when we take the Rocky Mountains down.”