Remake

by Ilima Todd

  “No. Even though I decided not to change anything, they still made me go. Made me get Remade, though I don’t know why. I figured it was because of my leg, but they also said something about helping my natural hormones mature properly.”

  I frown, knowing why they made him go. They took away his ability to reproduce, to make babies. My heart sinks. He doesn’t even know he once had the potential to procreate. That a freedom was taken from him without him even realizing it.

  “Honestly,” he says, one side of his mouth rising, “I think they just wanted to tone down my good looks without telling me. Not make the others feel so bad, you know?”

  I reward him with a wide smile. “What was it like?”

  “Being Remade?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t remember much.” He swirls what’s left of his milk and takes a drink. “The shuttle landed inside the Remake facility, so I don’t even know what it looked like outside, and I’ve no idea how large the place is. But the parts I did see—it was nothing more than a glorified Healer building. We were ushered to our rooms and after an hour of body scans and needles, I fell asleep and woke a few days later.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Not right after the procedure.” Theron makes a face. “But having to spend a month inside while the hormones kicked in about drove me crazy. My growing muscles ached more each day, begging to be used. Punching a mattress against the wall isn’t the same as hitting the practice bags in our Batch tower. I’m sure the Remakers were glad to be rid of me after our recovery time.”

  I think of my tender breasts and smile, wondering if I got the better end of the deal.

  Theron takes a deep breath. “I’m going to take the day off. But I have to check in with a couple of patients at the Healer building first. Come with me?”

  I nod, picking up our dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink.

  “Then I thought we’d brave the Core building, see what we can do to postpone this Remake of yours.”

  I watch him walk through the apartment, head high, shoulders back. Even his limp seems purposeful. He is so sure of everything in his life. No doubts, no fears. I’ve always wanted to be just like Theron. So certain. So strong. And watching him, here in front of me, after all these months, I realize I am like him.

  I know what I need to do, and I know I won’t be Remade, because I already have been. My Remake didn’t involve a complicated surgery to change my appearance or gender. It was a smoothing, sharpening, cutting away and building—not of my body, but of my spirit. My character, my strengths, my fears and devotion—those are what changed in my Remake. They would’ve been impossible to change at the Remake facility, though. It took an island in the middle of a vast ocean to Remake me.

  There’s only one more thing I need to figure out.

  * * *

  I pull the hood of my jacket over my head before walking into the rain, my hand in Theron’s. It’s cold out, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He holds an umbrella over us, leading me toward the Healer building.

  I won’t be going to the Core building today with Theron, nor tomorrow to choose my Remake. Still, I envision the touch screen as we walk through the street and the choices that would’ve appeared one by one as I make my selections.

  Male or female?

  I smile. It seems ridiculous to me, now, thinking about what stress that simple question put me through. I am more sure of my gender today than I’ve ever been. It’s what I’ve been from the start of everything. What I’ll be to the very end of it all. What I’ll always be.

  Female.

  One that is brave and strong and determined. If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past months, it’s that I don’t need to be male to be those things. But a female is more than that. And she’s more than just a curvy figure. She’s a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife. She inspires; she loves. And she’ll do what’s right no matter what. She knows when to quit, and she is not afraid to keep trying.

  Hair?

  I finger the fire red locks under my hood. I don’t want to belong. I don’t want to blend.

  No change.

  Skin?

  These freckles are a part of me, define me as someone different and not afraid to be different.

  No change.

  Eyes, lips, nose, legs, breasts?

  I hear Pua’s voice in my head, telling me everything about us is something to be grateful for. That we should trust the first Maker knew what he was doing in the first place.

  No change.

  Trade?

  I think of Miriama and smile. Even though Kai may never be a part of my life again, I know what I want to be anyway.

  Wife. Mother.

  Name?

  I think of the tattoo on Theron’s neck. Nine has defined me, it is who I am, who Theron knows me to be. But it’s also just a label, one given to me by Freedom, by my Makers, by . . . Eridian.

  I may have inherited my physical traits from Eri, but it doesn’t mean I am her. My spirit is different, unique, individual. Something that cannot be cloned. No matter how much she wants me to be like her, her choices are not my own.

  I think of the way Kai described me once, as a wind that creeps and winds and fills your entire being. A peaceful wind that catches you by surprise. This new me, this stronger me, is a surprise to myself as well. One that has encompassed me so fully, I don’t think I can ever escape it.

  Name?

  Ani.

  Theron squeezes my hand and says something funny. I look up at him and smile, relishing the brightness in his eyes, the way his lips turn up.

  There is one question left. It wouldn’t show up on the touch screen in the Core building, but it’s just as valid as the others. Maybe even more so. A choice that will define me. One I need to make right now.

  Theron?

  My feet shuffle to a stop, and I let his fingers slip from mine as he continues forward. I clench my empty hands. They are cold in an instant. I put my hand into my pocket and touch a crumpled paper there.

  Theron turns and opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. He lowers the umbrella, and we are both getting soaked, here in the rain.

  “Do you remember that night on the roof of the Batch tower?” I ask. “The night before we left Freedom?”

  He steps to me and grasps my shoulders. “I remember.”

  “You said you’d never leave me,” I say. My voice is shaking, and my lips shiver in the cold rain. “You promised.”

  “I know.” His arms tremble. “I know I did. I’m sorry, Nine. I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head. That’s not what I mean. “You kept your promise. You were with me every day on that island. Every hour.”

  He pulls me into him, the warmth of my fresh tears sharp against the cold of the rain. “Together and never apart again,” he says. “Remember?”

  I remember. “I should have promised too, Theron. I’m sorry.”

  I can feel his sorrow on my skin as he kisses me all over my face. “Oh, Nine.” His hands hold my face and I look at him.

  For a minute I curse the shuttle that crashed. If we had just made it to the Remake facility, things would be so different. I would be happy to be here, by his side, living with him in Freedom. Even as a male. It would be enough. I wouldn’t have this stirring in the pit of my stomach, telling me I need to fight. Telling me it matters.

  “I have to go,” I say.

  And he breaks. Because he knows me, because we know each other better than anyone else in the world, he understands what my words mean. His shoulders shake and his eyes fall. “No, no. Please don’t.”

  “I have to.” I must do this alone, out of the protective shadow that has sheltered me for so long. I need to leave Theron.

  He pulls me to him and sobs into my neck. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t do it.” He shakes his head from side to side, holding me close.

  “I’m not the same person anymore,” I say, running my fingers through his hair.

/>   “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” His voice is desperate. “I love you, Nine.”

  “I know. I love you too.” But it’s not the same. I wipe at my face. I don’t know what the point is, here in the pouring rain.

  “Take me with you,” he begs, his arms pinning me tighter against him. “I don’t know where you’re going or what you plan to do, but let me come too.”

  My entire body shakes. It’s exactly what I hoped he wouldn’t ask—what I refused to ask of him because I knew he’d agree to follow me without hesitation. He even admitted it yesterday at the Healer building; he said he’d run away with me before letting me leave without him. But I’m not even sure I’ll still be alive in a few hours, and I can’t risk his life. Not for me. Not again.

  I shake my head. “You have to let me do this, Theron. You have to let me go.”

  You have to let me choose.

  “No! I won’t do it.”

  I press my lips against his ear. “Theron, please.”

  His breath catches. “Losing you . . . it’s too much. How can I live through that again? I can’t.”

  “Yes. You can,” I say. “You’re the brave one, remember?”

  Theron shakes his head. “No. Not as brave as you, Nine.” He strokes my hair, rubbing a few strands between his fingers. “I’m not brave like you.”

  I pull his mouth to mine, memorizing the feel of his kiss. When our lips part, I feel a piece of me is torn out and left behind with him. A part I know will never be filled again.

  I step back, turning away from his crumbling form. I don’t want to see the hurt I’ve caused. Isn’t my own hurt enough for me to bear? We are tethered, and I feel a pull toward him, as though no matter where I am in the world, we’ll still, somehow, be connected.

  I run away through the sloshing streets.

  And he lets me go.

  The concert building looms over me like sails of an ancient ship, a symbol of the voyage I’m about to embark on. I walk around the building twice, making sure no one is there. Miri said to wait until night if possible, but here in the heavy rain, no one is out in the open.

  On the north side of the building, I find the red metal walking bridge. Water drips from the rails. I count the bridge sections as I walk. One. Two. Three. In the center of the third section is an orange rail with peeling paint, just as Miri described. I lean over the side and look into the water below. It’s a far drop, nearly twice as high as Turtle Rock. The rain falls on the water so violently, peaks of white water rise with every hammering drop on its surface. It’s going to be cold.

  I pull the crumpled paper out of my pocket and read through it one last time, then tear it into tiny pieces, letting them fall into the water below. Taking off my shoes and jacket, I toss them into the water as well. I look around once more before climbing over the rail and standing on the other side. I lean over with my hands gripping the rail behind me. I’m going to have to use the momentum of my fall to help propel me downward in the water, diving down as soon as I break the surface.

  After two deep inhalations, I fall. Down down down. When I hit the water it stings so badly from the impact I scream as I sink, losing precious oxygen. I kick downward, my arms pulling me lower and lower. I am desperate to breathe. The space below me is as dark as it has become above me. I won’t make it if I turn back now. I push forward with renewed vigor. I will do this.

  I begin to see a light, but it’s not below me, it’s far to my right. The current must be stronger in the downpour. I turn to the light, releasing every last bit of air I have. It keeps me from floating up, but it makes me dizzy. I want to breathe in so, so badly.

  I finally reach the light and fumble with the trunk, opening it to reveal a pile of small, black rubber devices. It’s like the mouth end of a snorkel, but instead of the mouthpiece leading to a tube that sticks above the surface of the water, it ends in a stump with some kind of filter attached. I bite hard on the mouthpiece and inhale sharply, desperate for breath. Water flows into my nose. I plug my burning nostrils with my fingers and breath in again. The air comes, but it’s slow and awkward, and I have to force myself to relax a minute before I finally feel like I won’t suffocate to death.

  I close the trunk and find the round metal door leading into the floor of the ocean. I tug and pull, but it doesn’t budge. My hands and feet are numb from the cold water—I can’t feel them at all. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, so why won’t the door move? I pull again and this time it moves slightly, rotating to the left, but then it freezes. I have a thought and grip the handle, rotating the round door instead of trying to pull it straight up. The metal slides against its frame and suddenly pops up, released from the threaded metal on the frame holding it in place.

  I can’t see anything inside. Nothing but dark and emptiness. I glance at the light around the trunk, wondering if I can carry it down with me. But it’s attached to the box, and the trunk won’t fit through the hole. I shake my head. I’ve done hard things before. This is nothing. Nothing like losing Theron. Nothing like losing Kai.

  Swimming down into the hole, I pull the metal door into place behind me, remembering Miri’s instructions. The door settles into its frame, and all goes black. I stay there, floating in the dark, shivering in the cold water. Miri said the door closing would trigger something, letting them know I am here. I wait and wait. Five minutes. Ten. But I’m still surrounded by water, and I can’t feel my limbs anymore.

  I begin to breathe faster through my rebreather. I can’t get enough air. This is not good. I’m going to die here, in the dark of nowhere, with no one to find my body. Panicking, I reach up, feeling for the round door. It opens easily with my gentle push, and I hesitate. Pulling it back down into its frame, I rotate the door, to the right this time, until I feel it lock into place.

  A sound finds its way to my ears under the water. It reminds me of the shuttle dying in the water, the grinding and bending of metal that makes me shiver uncontrollably. After the sound, I feel a tug on my body, like the water surrounding me is being pulled into a drain I cannot see.

  After a few minutes, I am crumpled on wet, algae-slick ground, all the water gone. I drop the rebreather and stand as best I can on the feet I can’t feel. The smell is musty and the drip drip drip of water echoes around me. There’s a light far to my right illuminating the dark just enough to reveal I’m in a tunnel. I have to duck my head as I feel along the wall, heading for that light.

  When I get there, I see the light is behind a grate, and several rungs are set into the wall. Shaking, I climb the ladder higher and higher, until I come to another round metal door like the one in the ocean floor. My body shakes violently, and I am so exhausted, it takes all of my strength and concentration to rotate the metal door. It doesn’t slide as easily as it did underwater. It’s too heavy to push up, and I drop my arms, letting them hang with fatigue for a minute before trying again.

  But after a few seconds, the door is lifted. I look up to see the face of a man with a full white beard and shaved head. A halo of light surrounds his face, coming from the room he’s in. I reach up a hand in relief, expecting him to help pull me up. But instead he points the barrel of a gun in my face.

  “Your name?” he asks.

  “Nine,” I say, my lips still shivering from the cold.

  His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Nine is a Batcher name.” He pulls the slide back, chambering a round, ready to shoot.

  “No,” I say in a rush. “The Rise. I’m part of the Rise. I’m Ani.”

  The man relaxes and pulls me up into a white room with tile floors.

  I collapse on the ground, exhausted to my core.

  “Welcome to Rise Central,” he says with a grin.

  I have enough energy to smile back at him.

  * * *

  Evert, the man with the white beard, leads me down a hallway with metal walls. I pull the blanket he offered tightly around me. There are no windows, only flickering torches along the walls. We must be unde
rground. He leads me to a room with shelves lined with medical instruments and bottles of liquids.

  “Wait here,” Evert says. “I’ll go grab the doc.”

  I sit on a stool in the corner and squeeze out the water that still drips from my shirt.

  The door opens again and a woman walks in with hair that almost brushes the ground in a long braid. She holds a tracker gun in her hand. “Hello, Ani. I’m Reyn. I’m here to remove your tracker.”

  I nod and hold my head up high, ready to do this.

  Reyn holds the gun behind my right ear and presses the green button, removing the tracker. I gasp when the pain comes. I hold a piece of gauze at my ear like she instructs while she preps a gel-like solution. Reyn applies the gel behind my ear and bandages it up. My head still throbs, but I smile in relief when I see her toss the tracker device into a container of some kind of acid. It sizzles as it settles in the liquid.

  “Here’s a dry set of clothes for you,” she says, handing me a pile of folded fabrics. “When you’re ready, come on out and Evert will take you to the commons room. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry after that whole ordeal, yes?”

  I smile gratefully and get dressed when she leaves.

  Evert leads me back the way we came, down the torch-lit hallway. We turn towards a set of stairs in the wall that spiral upward. Pushing through a heavy door, we enter a large room filled with people. It reminds me of the eatery in our Batch building. A line of tables filled with food sits on one end. Several people gather at benches nearby, eating and talking.

  I’m surprised to see children in the center of the room, playing a game that involves kicking a ball between them. Adults scold, telling them to keep their voices down. I smile. There are families here, then. I look at the other end of the large room where people sit on chairs along a wall, laughing so loud I think someone must have told a joke, and I want desperately to know what it was. I think I’d like something to laugh about today.

  My eyes scan the wall, and that’s when I see him.