Idiosyncratic

  The field of machines wasn’t what took my breath away, though. Alongside the pipe work that ran against the ground were creatures with luminescent blue skin. They had Idiosyncratic features with arms and legs, but they didn’t have any scales. Tattered pieces of fabric that appeared to have once been actual garments were rudimentary clothes. They lay still, arms wrapped around or tucked tight to the pipes. Their hair swayed in the current as if they slept soundly to its lull.

  A girl’s head popped out from the side of the door, startling me. Her skin, which appeared slightly translucent, was a glowing yellow. She stared at me, black eyes blinking curiously.

  She grabbed one of the rods and tugged, but it didn’t move. Her skin darkened to orange the more she fought with the metal. When it changed to a deep crimson, she gripped the bars with both hands and growled that same ear-piercing growl that had come from Oh’pol. I could see her blade-like teeth behind her cloudy lips.

  Dr. Upton hit the button for his laboratory as the others stirred awake. The doors started to close as a wave of creatures headed for us, their skin a bright crimson.

  The girl’s hand swiped at me, clipping the tube to my gasmask right before the door slid closed. Water filled the mask as the air exploded, bubbling out into the capsule.

  I yanked off the mask, pushing up off the ground to break past the surface. I took one deep breath, but before I could take another, Dr. Upton’s hand clamped down on my nose and mouth.

  “You can’t breathe in this air!” he shouted.

  My lungs started to burn as panic forced me to push against his grip.

  “Les’ette, you’ll die!” he screamed, giving me a shake.

  Logic took hold of me again, and I stopped flailing. He quickly grabbed the second gasmask and pushed it over my face. I gasped for air, dropping to the ground and splashing in the knee-high water. Dr. Upton knelt down next to me.

  “Fish are not supposed to hover. They are supposed to swim. Rats are not supposed to have stingers or feathers. They are supposed to have tails and fur.”

  “What are you talking about? What were those creatures?” I gasped out between breaths.

  “You’re not seeing the point. You’re not asking the right questions,” Dr. Upton said. The water dripping off his lab coat made him seem more like a mad scientist. Or maybe he was secretly a genius, wanting me to piece it together myself so I understood it better.

  The girl’s growl was similar to Oh’pol’s. The pipes snaked all around the creatures.

  “Are you saying that the Federation did this to them? Were they like us, or were they human?”

  The more I thought about the creatures, the more they seemed human rather than Idiosyncratic. I gazed down, remembering how Oh’pol’s scales had littered the floor of this capsule. I peered over at my arm and the small strip of scales running down it.

  “Are we not supposed to be like this? Are we supposed to be human?”

  I stared up at Dr. Upton to see that he had taken his gas mask off. He was smiling. It was genuine, not creepy at all, like hope had finally ignited inside of him.

  “Yes,” he said, but it sounded more like a sigh of relief.

  “But how?” I thought more about the pipe work. Many of the pipes led upward, and I thought I remembered seeing dozens of them going through the ceiling. Dr. Upton had warned me not to breathe the air. “Airborne,” I whispered, thinking out loud, but my thought made Dr. Upton’s grin widen. “They’re releasing something into the air.”

  The elevator stopped and opened, but neither of us moved.

  “There are filtration systems set up throughout the entire Federation, which is the main reason why most cities were build up instead of out,” Dr. Upton said.

  “So they are pumping some chemical into the air and the Astronauts haven’t been exposed to it? The forest isn’t toxic to humans, which is why they live inside it?” I asked, and Dr. Upton seemed pleased with my questions.

  “The chemical is called Serum Verlin.” Dr. Upton grunted his way to his feet, waiting for me to do the same before he continued. “Serum Verlin creates an error in our genetic code. Nucleotides are matched up incorrectly, which causes the Idiosyncratic mutations.

  “But our bodies are extraordinary machines with specific enzymes made to correct such errors in our DNA. Because the chemical’s effects regress quickly, SV must be constantly administered to block the repair pathway for those enzymes, to prevent our bodies from healing themselves.”

  He headed over to his workspace, pulling out letters that I was sure I’d retrieved on my many courier missions.

  “Not all the Astronauts were born unexposed. We found a way to wean the body off Chemical SV, but it’s not an ideal transition. And at the current moment, once the chemical is completely leached from the system, reintroduction leads to death or genetic takeover.”

  “Those creatures,” I concluded.

  “What is unique about SV is the way it uses the mitochondria.”

  “Mitochondria?” I asked, utterly confused.

  “The mitochondria are like the power plants for our cells, taking O2 and electrons and making H2O to create ATP. Somewhere in the process of generating this high-energy molecule, SV uses the mitochondria to add a foreign molecule. Idiosyncratics no longer make ATP, but something much stronger. But, again, the body is designed to correct such abnormalities, and that’s why we think the number of genetic takeovers is increasing. It’s not even people who are being reintroduced to SV. It’s normal, everyday Idiosyncratics. We are becoming intolerant to SV.”

  “So you are working for the Astronauts. That’s why you keep saying we,” I said.

  He pushed forward a piece of paper that was stamped with a seal I’d never seen before. It was an Astronaut helmet, and behind the visor was the Federation emblem, but instead of scales it was an illustration of Earth.

  “I work for a third party inside both governments, the Humanoid Confederacy. It’s been a small department in the Federation for almost as long as the government has been in control. The leaders of the Federation know their system isn’t sustainable, but most of the Country Deputies want to continue with the status quo. They fear a loss of power, an anarchy takeover, and many other threats to their control.”

  “If you work for both, why so much secrecy?”

  “Because we are the minority. The Humanoid Confederacy is looked at as a joke or a threat to most countries. They have the resources to silence us, and they have in some regions. And the Astronaut Clusters are generally territorial, out for vengeance. If we found a way to cross borders without the threat of death or mutating into those beasts, then we might gain a listening ear. People have a hard time swallowing truth when it isn’t sugarcoated.”

  I thought this was the sanest I’d ever seen Dr. Upton, and I was starting to like it.

  “It’s not your fault,” I whispered.

  The words felt out of place on my tongue, but they were words Oh’pol would have wanted to say to him.

  “What’s not?”

  “What happened to your wife. What happened to Oh’pol. I’m guessing they volunteered?”

  “Yes, they did, and you’re wrong,” Dr. Upton’s voice had changed back to that cold, crazed pitch. He turned his focus to a stack of sealed letters, unsheathing the dagger from his boot to hack open the paper with unnecessary force. “You should get some dry clothes on. Wouldn’t want you to die on me before I got a return on what I paid for you.”

  I turned toward the elevator. My boots squished with my strides.

  “Do you still have Oh’pol’s key?” he called out.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll want to hold on to that.”

  “I...” I gulped. “I will.”

  |Twenty Five|

  MY OLD ORPHANAGE CLOTHES pressed soft and dry against my skin. I sandwiched the back of my white button-up between my spine and the transparent wall of Meteoroid’s cage. I guessed these rooms weren’t really cages, not in the way I thought the
y were, but barriers protecting their occupants from the air of the city. The air that was toxic to them.

  A key, an Orphan Train Gazette, and a letter lay spread out in front of me. I pressed my spine further into the wall. They were trifles, really, but my eyes stung the longer I stared at them.

  Something in my heart—or, rather, around my heart—broke. Hot tears trailed down my cheeks. My fingers shook as I picked up No’ll’s letter. I slipped my fingers inside the envelope, hesitating a few moments before pulling it out. There were two pieces of paper. A small, dirty, crinkled scrap and a larger, cleaner sheet that was addressed to me.

  I opened the tiny fraction of paper first. It was floppy from age and wear. The handwriting was shaky.

  To the Unfortunate Who Has Come Upon My Body,

  Here lies No’ll. I am a boy born in the Hamlet slums, but sold into the black market. There are no records of me, nor anyone who would claim me. If you are reading this and I have not expired, do not waste any efforts toward saving me. I have no money to pay for the hospital, so you would be doing me a kindness in sparing me from the Labor Camps.

  Much Obliged, No’ll

  My fingers started to tremble as my eyes took in his words. These words couldn’t have come from No’ll’s hand. These words sounded nothing like him.

  My heart thudded louder in my ears as I unfolded the paper with my name. No’ll’s handwriting was that same small lettering, but this one was written much neater.

  For My Dearest Dollface, Les’ette

  From Your Sword, Your Shield, Your Warrior, No’ll

  I hesitated a few moments and then opened up his letter.

  “Are you dead? I can’t tell, because I’m...” Her voice quivered. “Please don’t be dead.”

  These were the first words she ever said to me. I felt her hand settle on my chest next, trying to feel my heartbeat. I must have looked like a mess lying there beaten and starved.

  “Oh, good. You’re still alive,” she breathed, relieved.

  I wasn’t. I had died a long time ago, but my body had refused to follow. My world was chaos, and I was done fighting. I was barely able to hobble onto that train, wanting to die in peace hidden in the cargo car.

  I pressed my forehead harder against the wall. This was nothing like I thought it would be. I didn’t know what it was, really. It read like a story. A tragic story. A hopeless story. A story of when we’d first met. A story that was the equivalent of us. Was this what I had been dreading, his goodbye?

  “I’m going to get help,” she said.

  She didn’t move, though, freezing when my hand found purchase in hers. Her voice was so close to me, breathing on the kindling of my existence. I didn’t want her to leave. Her skin was so warm.

  “No.” My voice burned my throat as I forced it out.

  Her presence wasn’t clouded by vicious thoughts. Her hands didn’t search through my pockets with greed. Her voice wasn’t laced by conniving intentions. And as she turned her hand around to grip mine, she pulled me just a little bit away from the chaos.

  “Can you sit up?”

  “I think so.”

  She helped me to a spot against the wall. I hated the way I sounded as I moved. The pain of all my bruises and cuts was revealed by every grunt that fell from my lips. I had never cried before, never. But my tears betrayed me, pushing out of my closed eyelids.

  This letter, this story, made no sense. I wanted to stop reading, because my heart was beginning to burn. I feared the reason behind his words. I feared when he would start making sense.

  When she started brushing them from my cheeks I realized then that I wasn’t alone. In the middle of my chaos there was her. This girl I didn’t know. This girl who was a perfect stranger. This girl who, even though I hadn’t laid eyes on her yet, was the most beautiful person I’d ever encountered. This girl who was silence and solace. This girl who was also standing in the same chaos of this world.

  As I opened my eyes, she tilted her face away from the light, but I saw her anyway. I saw her Orphan Train tag, the ivory of her skin, the black eye, and the bruises scattered over her face. This girl was a warrior.

  My eyes grew foggy and blurred as the tears began to build. I tried desperately not to let them fall. I didn’t want to cry over someone who had already left me, someone I’d pushed away anyway. This letter didn’t change the fact that he’d trotted off to his death so willingly.

  A piece of me I thought had perished surfaced again. I pulled her into my arms and actually sobbed.

  I’m sure she thought I was a loon, holding onto her so tightly, but she didn’t pull away. In the back of my mind, without even realizing it then, I knew I never would either. A warrior deserved another warrior to fight with, to fight beside, to fight for, and I was going to be hers, because she was mine.

  Here stands No’ll. I am a young man born into a war of chaos, but I will not easily walk away in defeat.

  My eyes wouldn’t leave his name as the tears finally started to fall. This explained everything. I cried harder at that fact. This was the equivalent of our relationship, both beaten but surviving with the other’s support. I never could admit it to myself, would never even allow myself to think that I felt the same way. But in the back of my mind I knew I would always be there for him, because he would always be there for me.

  “Why did you do this to me, No’ll?” I murmured, pounding my fist against the wall.

  My instinct was to deny the emotions it stirred inside of me, to deny the mental confession I’d just made. Anger wanted to take root and scream at him for making me face these buried feelings, but it didn’t. I couldn’t let it, because the truth was he was right about us. The truth was...

  “I stayed for all of you,” I whispered to the trinkets.

  I cried to the letter, wanting to divulge all my secrets to No’ll. I finally spoke with an honesty I should have given him in person.

  “I’ve been hurt so much by so many people. I thought not caring about anyone would be better than a broken heart. Solitude equaled protection for me. I realize now that I was wrong.”

  The sobs heaved out of me. I pulled his letter into my chest, wilting against the wall. Truths I’d tried hard to bury drown deep inside of me came to the surface.

  “Oh’pol was my sister, and I loved her so much. And I wouldn’t trade this pain for the absence of her. Even though she’s gone, I’m grateful I got to know her. I will treasure every moment I had with her. She makes me wish I’d tried harder with Hattie. She deserved more from me. No’ll, you were always there for me, and I pushed you away. I was afraid, but you would have been worth any heartbreak.”

  I dropped his letter as my fingers twisted in the folds of my skirt. Pressing my cheek against the wall, I soaked it with my tears.

  “I had always hoped to never break your heart, dollface, but I’m starting to think I already have.” No’ll’s voice echoed out to me in a gruff, strained way.

  My head shot up, and I looked down the hall, but it was empty.

  “Over here, dollface,” No’ll said from inside the tank.

  |Twenty six|

  MY EYES FOUND METEOROID flopped on the ground with his back pressed against the side of the bed. He wore the same green jumpsuit Satellite had on beneath his Astronaut suit. He gave me a small wave and finished with a wink.

  “No’ll?” I asked Meteoroid skeptically.

  He got to his hands and knees and crawled toward me slowly, then thumped back down, huffing.

  “I told you I’d return,” No’ll panted, leaning his head against the wall.

  We stared at each other, astonished. No’ll’s chest slowed to an even pace as his breathing slowed.

  “You’re here. You’re human,” I gasped, the words finally coming.

  He held his arm out, examining the back of his hand. His skin was a rich, dark brown. Even the shape of his face was different, slimmer without the patches of scales on his cheeks. He shrugged at his fingers, turning his familiar carob
eyes to mine.

  “This is what I look like without Chemical SV. Quite debonair, right?” he said, giving me another wink.

  A laugh burst out of me at his comment. It was so very No’ll.

  “I’m so happy you’re not dead,” I said.

  “I came back just so you could kill me yourself. I’m sure you want to, but before you do, could you kiss me again? I barely remember the last one because I was dying and all.”

  I felt heat flood my cheeks as I narrowed my eyes at him. My signature glare came easily with No’ll.

  “There it is,” he sighed.

  His voice sounded smaller that time, worry seeping out. His eyes lingered on my face as if drinking in my expression. I held his gaze. He was different, but at the same time so much the same.

  “I feared you’d forget about me,” he whispered.

  I needed to be honest with him. He deserved that much.

  “Never,” I replied.

  A smile spread across his face.

  “Your voice has that nagging quality that echoes in my mind,” I said playfully.

  He chuckled.

  “Well, someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Palm greaser.”

  “Deviant.”

  We both laughed softly, falling into step and at the same time starting a whole new dance.

  “Thank you, dollface, for saving my life. You seem to do that a lot.”

  My eyes widened. I was astonished by the sincerity of his words. He meant every one of them. His eyes dropped from mine, glancing down at the letter that rested on my knees.

  “Please don’t tell me that was the first time you read it.” His voice held a sad pang, like he knew he was right. He took a breath. “It’s almost been a year. Oh, the despicable things you must have thought of me.”

  I gripped a fistful of my skirt, clutching the fabric tightly. I didn’t want him to imagine those things, because I didn’t mean them.

  “I didn’t want to say goodbye to you, No’ll. I thought that’s what the letter was, and I just...I don’t know.”