Skin Trials

by S Y Humphrey

  His words stung, and pricked something in her. A place in her chest now filled with uncertainty.

  “What do you want from me?” she hissed in the dark.

  “For you to be kind… good… like…” his voice shut off as if he had stopped himself.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Never mind,” he sighed.

  Right then, she rubbed the spot over her chest, inside wetsuit where she had shoved the small metal against her flesh. The locket was still there. She noticed right after that she had felt slight panic when realizing it might not be. The large metal container in which they rode was too dark now for her to open the locket, and aside from that, she wasn’t ready to open it. They continued to rock on the gentle waters. Seren heard a loud whistling noise, as if a torpedo or missile was taking off in the sky. She jumped and grabbed NG. A couple of seconds followed, and then came popping and snapping very close to them. She leaped and jerked.

  “What is it?”

  The laughter of children rang out on the banks of the river. “Fireworks,” NG answered. “Fourth of July is in just a few weeks. The children start popping them early.”

  “They should be illegal around all those trees I saw outside,” she said agitated.

  “They are illegal. The kids are just having fun.”

  More laughter vibrated through what seemed like rustling, tall woods. Thrilled and excited chatter invigorated the otherwise dead night. Seren could hear them screaming and chasing one another. Even this late at night, in the dark.

  “Where are their parents? Aren’t there some rules? Curfew against being out that late? Firing fireworks no less?”

  “When you’re poor, there are no rules. There are so many rules placed on you that you just learn to ignore them. Live outside of them, and steal the joy where you can.”

  They relaxed against the lull of the calm water current underneath them, listening to the happy frolicking along the banks. Other soldiers snored fitfully. Now that N.G. was there to be the lookout, she did also. Hours later, she awakened to the sound of N.G.’s voice clinking with someone.

  “We have no choice. They’re expecting you to storm in, like you did back in Wyoming. This is the only way,” Seren heard a female’s voice. The female sounded somewhat familiar, as if Seren had heard her before.

  “Copy that,” N.G. replied in a groggy voice. “See you shortly.”

  “How much longer do we have to travel?” Seren asked, having been so preoccupied before with simply trying to stay alive that she only now thought to ask.

  “Just another few minutes,” N.G. answered. Some of the Anthistemi militia had awakened, and made smalltalk or played card games between the canisters to pass the time.

  “Another battle? More people hiding in the grass?” she asked.

  “No.”

  The movement stopped, and they floated on the water. The sun was out now, and she could see glimpses of their faces in the faint light creeping through the cracks into the dark. Seren heard more laughter and chatter outside. Their box was lifted again with them inside it, as machinery transferred them from one vehicle platform to another. A truck engine rumbled to life, and they took off. They rode for a few minutes over what felt like a smooth highway in a quiet locale. They didn’t ride far before the truck turned and they felt the wheels crushed a rougher surface underneath them, while their large box rocked from side to side. The wheels creaked around bends and turns at a slow pace, traveling up and down hills for about a couple of miles. They finally heard doors opening in the truck into smooth flat surface, before she heard doors outside closing closing shut again. They waited a few moments before machinery lifted their box once more, and then set them on the ground. The front panel to their large container box opened. They were finally able to look out of the box and all around them.

  Seren looked to N.G. for what to do next, for some indication of what this was.

  N.G. got up and stretched his legs, and he looked down at her. “Get out.”

  Trying to figure out what this was, and where she was going, she arrived at the threshold between the edge of her box and the open space. While she still wondered if it was safe to exit, a female form came into view and stopped just a few feet from her.

  “Hello, Seren.” She had heard that voice before, several times. The shadowy form stepped out of the dim space and into the light. The blonde lady from the beginning of the trip, the Tier One woman who told Seren that her parents were not.

  “You,” Seren said instinctively as she was reminded. “Traitor.”

  “Only if I don’t do this. Why don’t you come with me?” the white lady said.

  “Do I have a choice?” Seren asked.

  “Well, since you came all this way…” the woman invitingly held her arm out to her side. “McIlroy, Gunther, would you mind coming to help Miss… Jernigan?” White men in casual work clothes then came to Seren’s side and helped her out of the container the rest of the way. Moving within full view of the warehouse, Seren saw many stacks of canisters, barrels, tractors and other large farming equipment. The facility had to be two stories high, and perhaps half a city block in length. N.G. had disappeared. Clean, and well organized, Seren saw that along the walls there were VScans installed. All she had to do was walk up to one and have her eyes scanned. Just that simple.

  A crew of staff approached with medical kits and sat Seren at a little table. Lifting up her leg, they unwrapped it and began cleaning it. They took out small medical scalpels, needle and thread. They sewed up the puncture wounds in her leg, stitching the muscle and skin back together. As they finished wrapping it back up, servants entered with a small foldable table, platters and silverware, and began to set up a meal in front of them.

  “I know you must be hungry. Please, sit and eat,” the Tier One woman said.

  Seren wandered just who she was, and what was her part in this whole war against Perfect Society. Seren sat in one of the chairs, and looked over the large meal of buttered rolls, braised pot roast, cream potatoes, and a carrot soufflé. Instead of touching any of the plates, Seren stared longingly across the room, at the VScan.

  “Tempting, isn’t it?” The woman asked. “Everything you could ever want or ask for is right inside that scanner. All you have to do is look into it. Only, you don’t know if he’ll give you your life back.”

  The traitor’s intense blue eyes pierced Seren.

  “Who are you? Does N.G. work for you?” Seren finally asked.

  “N.G. is my brother. We work together.”

  Seren drew back in shock. That didn’t make sense.

  The Tier One woman continued, “I know what you must be thinking. I’m white and he’s black, so how could that be? We have the same father. Different mothers.”

  Seren swallowed. “And the two of you lead an army against my father?”

  The woman shook her head, and frowned. “Why do you say that with so much conviction?”

  “Say what?”

  “My father. About Jernigan.” The woman continued to eye Seren.

  “Because he is,” Seren answered with a flat, frustrated tone.

  The woman pulled something from her silver tray. An envelope, which she placed at her side on the table, resting her fingers atop it. “No, he’s not. He’s not even a good father figure. And you know it. So why don’t you ask who your real parents are?”

  “Even if you’re telling the truth. You don’t just wake up and toss out the man who raised you because people don’t like him.”

  “Does he deserve that much loyalty from you? He lied to you. Big time. About a few things.”

  “Why do you even care? Don’t try to groom me,” Seren shot. “Just tell me what you want.”

  “Your cooperation. This final piece of our mission will probably be the hardest. N.G. said you helped him a a lot out there. Telling us in advance that you didn’t think they would have Dr. Terry in Atlanta. It was very brave of you. Why did you do that?” the woman asked.

&nb
sp; Seren looked away, holding in her emotion. Her father had always taught her never to let anyone know what she was thinking. “What do you want?”

  “N.G. said maybe I can trust you,” the woman answered, but her voice rose in more of a question.

  “He said we were going to a prison.”

  “Correct. But we needed to let things settle down first.”

  “How do you even know he’s there? If he ever was,” Seren insisted.

  “They’ve beefed up security. So they’re expecting us. We can’t have some big street fight, the way we did along the Coast. This mission has to be more clever, more clandestine. It’s an old prison. No advanced technology. Has an old-fashioned guard shack. With live human guards. Who ride the prison grounds on horseback carrying shotguns. No robots. Not even a VScan. So there are no computerized systems for us to hack, no sophisticated technology we can trip up.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because their outdated system works. In the entire one hundred and sixty-year history of Angola, less than ten people have managed to escape. The prison’s geographic location is treacherous, making it easy to be caught. Keeps prisoners from going anywhere. It’s twenty-eight miles, surrounded mostly by the Mississippi River. I don’t know if N.G. told you it was originally a slave plantation back in the 1800s. Named for the African country where most of the slaves were imported from. It’s setup there on the river banks precisely so no one can leave. There’s only one entrance, requiring a long drive down a small, narrow road to get there. If a prisoner were to make it to the edge of the grounds, he’d still have to swim through swamps, water moccasins, alligators, and other deadly river animals to survive. Big disadvantages for our forces when getting on and off the property. We can only use air support once, when leaving. But it has to be smart. The property’s massive size gives them plenty of opportunities to shoot us down before we fly out,” she described.

  “What does any of that have to do with me?”

  Her light blue eyes narrowed. “Help us plan our safe exit. You know your… father best. Help us to walk away from this unscathed. A peaceful exchange of hostages. The scientist for you.”

  “Why would I do that?” Seren asked.

  “If we don’t leave Angola alive, neither do you.”

  “You already ruined my life.”

  “Or saved it.”

  Seren nodded with emotional sarcasm, looking away. “Oh yes, because that’s what I needed… a life wasting away in a tiny matchbox for a house, struggling and barely getting by in the South. Spare me your salvation.”

  “We gave you the truth. Which is more than Jernigan’s ever given you.”

  “That’s for me to decide,” Seren replied.

  “Fair enough. You didn’t choose this, and for that, I sympathize. That’s why we’ve been so patient. In the meantime, eat. You don’t have to prove your loyalty to Jernigan by starving yourself. And you certainly don’t have anything to prove to me. Please excuse the flimsy arrangements. I would invite you to the main house to join us if I didn’t think you’d go back and describe it all to your… father.”

  “Why do you care about my truth?”

  “I don’t. I only care what you do with it,” she answered, getting up from the table. “The people you could help. Or hurt.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I may hunt you when I’m released?” Seren asked.

  “No. It’ll be sad, I understand. You’ll have to prove to Jernigan that you’re loyal. That you’re still his. You can only do that by disclosing everything about us.” The woman took a small mirror from under the silver tray cover and stood it on the table so that it faced Seren. In it, a small, brown blemish had appeared against Seren’s otherwise white face. The spot nearly matched the brown gravy drizzled over her pot roast. “He’ll make you do some inhumane things to re-enter his world. That ought to bother you.”

  The woman got up to leave. No one remained in the warehouse but Seren. On the woman’s side of the table sat her clean white plate, its only item being the small, aged envelope. Seren eyed it, unsure if she wanted to know what it was.

  Finally, she reached over and picked it up, reading the words scribbled across the face of it, “My Dearest Cassie”.

  On the other side of the room, Seren noticed that the VScan was lighted and fully operable. If she wanted to, she just might have been able to leave.

  Looking at the old envelope in her fingers, she stayed put.

  A yellowing, fragile slip of paper slid into her hands. She began to read.

  It had been written by that poor man Seren had seen in the dark hole. It was clear that Cassie was his wife, and Lillian must have been their daughter, probably around the same age as Seren. And he was black, an esteemed, learned intellect who had attended one of America’s finest former universities. He’d used his research to help people. Seren recalled how, when they displayed him, he didn’t know the year. What had he and her father disagreed on? What had he done that had been this serious? Seren wondered, too, what had happened to his wife and child. Where were they? What had they become without him?

  Folding the letter very carefully, she placed it back in the envelope and laid it back on the plate. Collecting the soft, clean clothing that had been left for her, she headed toward a lit part of the warehouse that looked like a bathroom. Hobbling on a cane that had been left for her, she averted her eyes as she moved past the VScan.

  Even if these people were lying and Stephen and Mariel Jernigan were indeed her parents, she would convince her father to fix this. Then, she would regain her father’s trust. This was wrong. She would make him understand. Oh, Dad, she thought. What have you done?

  Seren sat down on a bench, hesitating to remove her clothing to shower. Not wanting to see the blemish on her right leg again. The warehouse contained a locker room for the workers that included showers. Unzipping the wetsuit, she removed the note from Nasreen. It was still impressively dry. Opening it once again, she read it.

  Please undo my marriage vows. Will prove I have Tier One value if I am free.

  She sat it down on the bench, intent on contacting Nasreen once she got back to Denver. Finally, she held the locket and tiny necklace. Staring at it, she placed it down on the bench as well. Unsure if she was ready.

  Finally, little by little, she began peeling it off. In the ceiling-to-floor mirror, her naked body began to unveil itself. Her brown birthmark had indeed grown, to the size of a bean. Another spot spot had emerged on her inner thigh, close to the first.

  She reached down and picked up the locket. Her fingernails finally slipped into the clasp, and opened it up. Inside, a young black couple gazed at one another, smiling and glowing, with their heads bent together on what appeared to be their wedding day. On the other side were two words: Cassie ♡ Lyle.

  Seren dropped the locket.

  17

  Digging Up the Light

  Seren tore at her chest, clawing and scraping with her fingernails. She hoped that if she clawed hard enough, she could rip her heart out. Through her screams and the tears, she couldn’t see or hear anything or anyone beyond her anguish. She couldn’t hear herself. She didn’t know what she said. In a blind rage, she beat the lockers, the walls, the mirror until she saw red. Until she was empty and drained and couldn’t be anymore.

  When she awakened, she lay in a queen-size bed inside a large, sunny bedroom. Once again, she was surrounded by the trappings of wealth. Her hands were freshly bandaged, along with her leg. The dirt under her fingernails was gone, and so too was the crusty dirt around her feet and neck. The blonde traitor had her bathed and placed into fresh cotton clothing that was soft, with tightly woven linens that indicated high quality. Clean, expensive wooden furnishings surrounded her. This time, there were no bars on the windows, she saw no barriers to her escape. The VScan inside the wall lit up, awaiting her to approach it. She noticed that a pair of shades lay on the bed next to her. She slipped them on, so the scanner wouldn’t capture her.

>   The Blonde Traitor, entered right then.

  “Lillian… I’m Pepper. Pepper Pickens. And I knew both your fathers. I’m sorry y—”

  “No. You’re not. Don’t patronize me. This is part of whatever motives you have. Don’t pretend to care about me. Let’s just do this already,” Seren spat, even as fresh tears began to flow down her face. She wiped them away.

  “How else could we have convinced you? Hm? You tell me,” the Blonde Traitor, Pepper, shot back. “Not everybody is like Stephen Jernigan, Ser… Lillian. Not every act carries a motive.”

  “What do you get out of this?” Seren asked, looking at the woman through the shades.

  “Nothing. Your father — Lyle Terry— my father was his mentor. He used to perform his operations at my house. I mean, on our farm. I was just a kid. He would change people. Literally, change their genetic makeup. Stephen Jernigan wanted the scientific technology for himself. For Perfect Society. He came to our house one day and tried to convince my father to persuade Lyle to sell it. When Dr. Terry refused, I think he knew something would happen to him. The last time I saw him…” her voice broke.

  She began to sob, her shoulders shaking as she continued, “…he was nervous and disheveled. I could tell he was afraid. We should have done something. Dad knew. But the government was watching us. Had begun observing our house. Dr. Terry snuck me that letter, to give your mother. Right before you were born. He made me promise I wouldn’t give it to anybody else. Dr. Terry went missing, and Cassandra went into labor. I went to their home to deliver the letter, and her family told me the baby had died. A few days later, Lyle Terry’s car was pulled out of the Mississippi River. But no body was in it. I put the letter away, and years later, I searched for Cassie Terry. But never found her. So we focused on finding Dr. Terry. When you became a teenager, we saw you on 3V. The resemblance was so striking. Only, you were white. We started putting the pieces together, and pursued it. It became our mission. Mine and NG’s. I mean Jonah’s. No, Seren…” she released a sigh in frustration. “Lillian. Not everybody is devious. Just the people who raised you.”