by Maguire, Ily
“If you’re hungry,” Pike mutters and looks away.
“It’s not mold, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Patience tells me and I smile my gratitude. It’s exactly what I was thinking. I take a bite. The consistency is squishier than I expected, but the veggie paste sticks to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. I hope it makes the wincing less noticeable.
“It’s good, huh?” Patience smiles and I nod.
“It’s filling,” I say before taking another bite. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep it down and my audience’s interest is a bit intense.
“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. No one will be offended.” Pike isn’t even facing me. His arms are crossed as he looks out into the common area.
“I thought I’d find you here.” A woman puts her arms around Pike’s neck and kisses his cheek. It takes me a minute to process who she is.
Nurse Hara.
“Here, take a seat,” he offers her his chair. As she sits, she looks up at him and whispers a thank you. She isn’t dressed like a nurse. She wears the same clothes as me, but she looks clean and put together.
“Hara, you would be the best person to explain to Rosamund exactly what we need to do.” JJ takes a bite of my sandwich. I push it toward him.
“Hi, Rosamund.” Hara’s black hair is down and it falls gently over her shoulders. She flips it back and I see short manicured nails and soft, unblemished skin. Everything about her is flawless. I didn’t notice her being so beautiful in the hospital. It must be the clothes.
“Hello,” I mutter. I don’t know what else to say.
“Let me start,” JJ moves a book from his lap to the table. He scoots his chair even closer to mine and our knees touch. I move mine away, and he moves closer again. I lean back without making it too obvious. I don’t know him. “Like our parents there are these people, unlike regular people, with genetic qualities that are superior to any natural human being. Unlike most of us.”
He looks at everyone around the table except for me.
“Unlike me though, why? I’m just like everybody else.” Is this about money? Or is it about the disparity between those who have it and those who don’t?
“A person is considered a natural human,” Pike re-affirms. “Only if they haven’t been altered.”
“I haven’t been altered.”
Patience is the only one still smiling at me.
Hara continues, “for the most part, all of our organs work like regular organs. They help us breathe air, release gas, pump oxygen, process sugars, breakdown fats, and produce wastes. All of us, including you.”
I don’t understand why they are treating me so different. Where is this going?
“And while these organs work or don’t work, depending–” Hara continues.
I nod. My liver is the problem. I get it.
“We can give things away like our blood and marrow, tissues, and certain organs like a kidney or a lung,” she finishes.
“But other things are regenerative,” JJ leans on the table. “Your liver, for instance.”
“Yes, I know that, but so what? Everyone’s liver regenerates. So does skin. What makes mine so special?” I ask. I sound testy.
“Not everyone is as regenerative as you–” Hara retakes the conversation. I haven’t decided if I like her. I know that I don’t hate her. I have no reason to. “No one here has the capabilities your body may have. They’ve all been tested.”
I look around at all of the apparently average people filling in the empty spaces of Aegis.
“Your lab results came in days before you were admitted to the hospital and there was something that raised red flags. Something out of the ordinary.” She shifts in her seat.
“What? I didn’t have any lab work done. I hadn’t seen Dr. Rush in forever.” My head spins. The entire tower gets dark and cold. I shiver. I look up from my hands.
“A satellite is just passing over,” Patience comments. It’s either really large or really close. “It blocks the sun for a fraction of a second and then it’ll get warm again.” Patience takes my hands and rubs them. They are warm.
“Someone got your genetic-type to the hospital. I don’t think that Dr. Rush was involved,” Hara talks despite the shift in attention. “The results showed something special. I’ve committed it to my memory. I can see why your father was pushing for such a quick liver replacement.”
“Why?” I don’t understand.
“Because not only is your liver regenerative, but so are the rest of your organs. Your heart and stomach – you are very powerful,” she says.
“You may be the most powerful,” JJ speaks up. “And with some tests we may find out your entire regrowth potential.”
10
Hara’s chair grates on the bamboo floor as she gets up. Pike paces, wearing a path in the dirt. I couldn’t before, but now I can smell the sheep pen. My mouth tastes hay.
“How can my organs regenerate and if that’s the case, why would my father want them replaced with artificial ones?”
“We didn’t think it was possible for that kind of regeneration,” Hara says. “But we knew we had to get you here and keep you safe. So we could see for ourselves.”
“Before anyone did anything to ruin you,” JJ adds.
“But what about organ failure? I mean, isn’t that what was going on when I got hospitalized? I’m confused.”
“Do we know if that’s definitely true, Hara?” JJ asks.
“Sabotage,” Patience whispers.
“Someone would really cause organ failure to prove a point?” I am astonished.
“Not to prove a point,” JJ clarifies.
“To keep her alive,” Pike says. “AR surgery would’ve at least kept you human and not an organ farm.” Pike raises his voice. At me. Now I understand. My father had a plan. AR-ing me would protect me. Even if Pike doesn’t agree with it, he must understand it, too. “If people were less hasty and even less information-driven, we might not need all of these artificial replacements,” he adds.
“We’d need to conduct our own tests to be sure.” Hara looks at Pike with trepidation. He’s lost in his thoughts. He doesn’t look at anyone, but stares into space.
“We can talk about those specific tests at a later time, of course.” JJ pats my back, his hand lingering a little too long. I squirm. No one notices.
“Listen, it’s been a long day,” Pike says. “I still need to find Zeke. C’mon,” he waves to me and I get up, though my departure seems awkward with everyone staring at us, including Hara.
“Bye, Rose!” Patience calls. “See you later!” Her exuberance strikes me as strange because I don’t know her, though polite. JJ smiles and Hara’s already looking away. Pike leads and I follow.
“Where is Ezekiel?” I say once out of earshot. I’m not happy to be seeking him out because I know he doesn’t like me as much as I don’t like him.
“We don’t need to talk to him; I just said that to get out of there. You looked like you did, too.” He looks me up and down.
He noticed.
“So how long have you all been here? Together,” I ask. “Everyone is so young.”
Of all the people we pass, no one looks much older than Pike. No one looks up, either. Everyone’s too busy working. Except for two girls who, across the common area, seem to be arguing in whispers. Their bodies positioned in such a way that raises the negative energy just enough to be perceptible. They notice me staring and both stand upright and move away in different directions.
We cross the courtyard, walk down a bright, airy corridor to a conservatory lined with benches, filled with plants. Lush and bright green. Wildflowers are everywhere, too. A black and blue butterfly lands on my shoulder. Its proboscis feeling my shirt for nectar.
“Zeke is the oldest natural human here. He’s 25. JJ and Patience are siblings. He’s 22 and she’s 18. We think they’re natural, but no one is really sure. They’ve never admitted to not being natural.”
&nb
sp; “I would never have guessed they were related,” I say, though I’m more surprised that Patience is eighteen. She acts younger. They don’t look alike either.
Pike still walks ahead of me, around the inside perimeter of the conservatory, not offering any more information. The butterfly flits away, not finding what it was looking for, my shirt not providing it the nutrition it deserves or requires.
“What about Hara?”
“What about Hara?” Pike stops short and I bump into him.
“Sorry. Um, who is she? What’s her story?” The words come out of my mouth before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying. I’m really just confused. I haven’t had enough practice with this sort of conversation.
We leave the conservatory. I like it here. Jenny would like it here, too. The living greenness is comforting like my space at home. Everywhere else in our house, my mother only kept only silk flowers and fake plants. They weren’t as much maintenance as the real thing and it gave her more time to worry about herself. Our conservatory was manicured regularly, but this place is a self-sufficient, living terrarium.
“She’s 29. We’ve known each other a while. There’s no story,” he answers despite my intrusion.
So she has been AR’d.
“Is she your girlfriend? She was angry back there.” We walk back down the hallway. The paint on the walls is a light green closer to the conservatory and it gets darker as we get closer to the center of the building.
“What gives you that idea?” He turns. We approach the common area again, busy with people. The two arguing girls have gotten back on-task. Pike doesn’t want me to answer. I shrug.
Nothing.
Everything.
11
“So don’t be nervous, Rose, this won’t hurt a bit,” JJ smiles. His hand is on my shoulder and it only makes this chair I’m reclined in all the more uncomfortable. I don’t know when the last time someone sat down in this thing, but I’d be surprised if they didn’t complain. There are springs sticking up and out everywhere. It’s more unbearable than the needle in my arm, drawing blood at an exceptionally slow rate.
“How much are you going to take?” I ask. I’ve never liked the idea of needles and I’m glad that I haven’t had much experience with them. I watch my vein pump hemoglobin into a double-walled plastic bag. I reach over with my other hand and touch it. It’s hot.
“It’s cooling down the moment it leaves your body,” JJ tells me. He taps his fingers on the counter beside me. Apparently this is taking too long for him as well.
“Sorry?” I say. This moment is awkward. Why did I consent to this? He said it was just a simple blood draw. I guess neither of us thought it would take so long.
JJ moves back to my side and presses his fingers on the needle at my elbow. The latex glove squeaks as he increases the pressure. He removes the needle and caps the tubing. I’m holding gauze down on my arm.
“Is that it?” I lean forward. The recliner doesn’t recognize the weight shift and it doesn’t move up.
“That’s it. See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” He puts the blood bag down on the counter. The color is a deep purple.
I get up from the chair and lose my balance, collapsing to the ground. There is dirt on my hands and I smell the Earth. The absence of life. JJ helps me to my feet with ease and I sit back down in the recliner.
“You haven’t eaten anything today, have you?” he asks and I shake my head. I’m developing another headache, but the wooziness is dissipating. “Here, have this.”
“Thank you.” I take a slice of genetically modified fruit and bite into it. Bright orange, it doesn’t taste, but the vitamins enhancing it make me feel better almost instantly. “Where’d you get this?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer and I know it isn’t something he’s grown here in Aegis. He had to have gotten it elsewhere. I look around the space and there isn’t much to see. It’s not like Dr. Rush’s office or my mother’s room at the hospital: comfortable, comforting. This is a make-shift ward for a singular patient and it isn’t trying to be anything other than that. I think of the person that is subjected to this cold, damp dungeon of a triage tent and I cringe.
That person is me.
12
Fourteen days in Aegis and much of my time has been spent sitting by this tiny indoor fountain with Patience. It’s quiet and just off the common area. There is a half-naked goddess shielding herself with a cement cloth draped over her body. From behind the figure, water spouts up and over in either direction. The water pressure not enough to cause a splash, but the mist it sprays is noticeable. Around the edge of the fountain is a flat lip that we are able to sit upon and remain balanced.
It’s been strange not interacting with any adults. Just a bunch of kids playing adult roles. All they do all day is work and their nights are spent in rooms getting ready for the next day’s work. No one learns or studies and if there is any free time, they just hang around.
Days there’s not much else for me to do except undergo numerous genetic and physical tests. I know people here resent me for not doing my share by the way they all look at me, feigning disinterest while glaring and whispering. JJ says I need to ignore them and keep up my strength. I try to keep to myself as much as I can, unless I’m with him. He likes to test me in the morning in his tiny little basement lab then he leaves me alone in the afternoon. Alone to explore Aegis.
Fifteen stories, two glass elevators that no longer work, and about a hundred rooms. Most illuminated corridors are desolate and lead to nowhere. All the doors are locked all the time. Any door that I’ve found unlocked has been empty. One of the rooms closer to the top collapsed into the room below it at some point. Water damage from parts of the leaking roof has mottled my perfect picture of Aegis.
Except for the conservatory, which has been locked since Pike and I were there, everything seems abandoned. I’ve wanted to ask him if he could open it for me, but I haven’t seen him.
The fountain I sit at with Patience is the only real peaceful place I’ve found. Aegis can’t maintain this serenity forever, can it? Wherever I go, though, JJ tracks me down. He’s offered to test me using various therapies, but I’ve had to draw the line. I’ve seen pictures in medicine books in our library at home. Trends that were once shunned have now become current again: electroshock and lobotomies. No, thank you. I’m not a specimen under a microscope. And that’s just how JJ perceives me.
“What’re you writing?” Patience leans over my shoulder to peer at my notebook. Pike brought it to me last week from somewhere in Aegis. Surplus, maybe. I am grateful to have somewhere to write down my thoughts even if they’ve been confused. I’ve been okay here. I haven’t missed home. Just Dory a bit. And Jenny. I miss talking to them, learning with them, and having them around.
“Nothing. Notes.” I close it now that the water has sprayed a tiny mist on the open page. Her feet splash in the fountain.
“What kind of notes?” Patience drags a finger in the water and then circles it making tiny whirlpools. “What’re you thinking about?”
“I could ask you the same question. You look deep in thought.”
“Ha ha!” she laughs. “I’m not thinking about anything. I rarely ever am.”
I knew that.
“No really, Rose, what’s on your mind. You look like you could use a friend to listen.”
I put the notebook on the dirt beside my feet and watch her eyes follow it. I wouldn’t consider her a friend, but I could get some of these thoughts out of my head. Other than Dory and Jenny, I have no friends. Do I need any more?
“It’s just that I’ve been here and, well, I’m bored,” I admit.
“You mean I’m not enough of a companion?” Patience frowns.
“Oh gosh no, I don’t mean that–” But I do. She’s not the most intellectually stimulating. We haven’t talked about much more than pretty things like butterflies and sunshine, if we’ve talked at all. With JJ performing tests all the time and with Pike never
around, there isn’t anything for me to do. And while doing nothing here is just as lonely as being at home, at least at home I could listen to music, study, learn about the world and its history. Here, there is no one, but Patience for me to talk to. Nothing but time and Patience to preoccupy me.
“I know you don’t,” Patience grins. “I wish we had more good friends to introduce you to.”
“Good friends?” I ask. I haven’t been introduced to anyone other than Patience and JJ. I haven’t been under a rock either. I don’t see Pike or Hara that much and I wouldn’t call Ezekiel a friend.
“No one here is really friends, though. We all just work toward a common goal.”
“Who’s Napolean and who’s Snowball?” I say under my breath.
“What?” Patience asks. The puzzled look on her face tells me she hasn’t read George Orwell’s Animal Farm. It surprises me. With unlimited access to information, no one seems to know much about anything.
“It’s from Animal Farm – nothing, nevermind. Don’t you get lonely?” I’ve never been around so many people, but been so isolated before. Which is interesting because at home all I had was my immediate family and Jenny and I never really interacted with my family except for Dory. I guess I was lonely at home, too. I’ve always had so many things, I never thought about it.
“Not really,” she answers. “Everyone’s super friendly and we all get along.” I can’t believe that. No one’s been friendly to me. No one even talks to me. Because I’m like everyone, but unlike everyone, and so they all stare. I’m that girl.
“– and with Pike and Hara –”
“What about Pike? I’m sorry; I missed what you were saying.” I tuned her out. I’m not trying to be rude.
“I was just saying now that Hara is no longer working at the hospital and is spending so much time with Pike, you must be sorta sad.”
I shake my head. Pike has been with Hara this whole time? That’s why I haven’t seen him around.