Perception

by Lee Strauss

  “Unfortunately, not a lot, but I was wondering what you can tell me about the outside.” I glanced toward the gate. It was a block away, but I could see the iron bars standing open. It allowed free passage out, but you had to scan your ID to get back in. There was an unbroken stream of pedestrian and mobile traffic flowing in both directions.

  “Not much,” she said. “It's not like I go out.”

  Most of the GAPs our age didn't, and guards ensured that younger kids never left without parental supervision. I never had a reason nor the desire to leave. All the walled cities had everything you needed inside them: shopping, schools, recreation, airports. Even vacations like the one Charlotte was about to take were to other GAP cities in the world. We could live our whole lives and not have a reason to go out.

  “But you can see out. I just thought....”

  “Hi, Zoe!” Charlotte's little brother ran outside with a bag to throw into the family car. His blond hair was the color of bleached wheat.

  “Hi, Ryder,” I called out.

  All the families I knew where similar in appearance. And each had either a boy and then a girl, or a girl then a boy. There were no variations.

  Before Liam disappeared I would never have considered going to the outside. Now I felt I had no choice. I waved good bye as Charlotte's family left for the airport. Then I walked the block over to the gates. Peering out, I felt a shiver of anxiety creep down my spine and encase my body. It was normal to fear the unknown, but still, I knew I was being irrational. There was no real reason to be afraid.

  I tried to shake it off. If I wanted to find out what had happened to Liam, I had to go out.

  I inhaled deeply and walked through the iron gates. They loomed over the entrance, eclipsing the walls like the intimidating guardians they were meant to represent. The guard in the pedestrian line gave me a cursory glance and then a nod; I was obviously over the restricted age of fourteen. And that was it—I was out. But my initial bravado quickly ebbed. Unlike the streets of Sol City, the outside street lighting was darker, casting eerie, cone-shaped streams of light on littered streets. The light above me buzzed, and I jumped. I hadn't paid attention and dusk had crept up on me without my notice.

  The crowds thinned out quickly, and a quick glance over my shoulder told me that most of the people were going the other way, inland away from the beach. My immediate thought was to turn around, especially when I spotted a group of young men gathered under one of the lights, smoking cigarettes. They wore sleeveless shirts, some with leather vests, and all of them eyed me up and down.

  I was such an idiot to think I could traipse down the streets on the outside without being noticed. My hair was like a beacon, a white-blond banner shouting, “Look at me, I'm not from here!”

  One of the guys whistled, and my heart jumped. I kept walking, head down, thinking that if I ignored them, they’d go away.

  Another whistle, and I looked up. One of the guys took a step toward me. My pulse raced, its rapid beating hammering in my ears. The guy’s gaze narrowed, lustfully scanning my body. My eyes darted around, searching for safety. There was no place to hide. I was on the outside.

  My body suddenly took over, and I turned on my heels, sprinting towards the gate. I pumped my long legs, my breaths quick and loud. I kept my eyes focused on the iron gates, its broad, metal wings welcoming me back to the nest known as Sol City.

  I slowed at the sight of the guards. I bent over, hands on my knees, catching my breath and I glanced behind me. I couldn't see the gang, but I could hear them laughing.

  I barely had my breath under control when I offered my hand to the auto scanner. A red light scanned the chip that had been implanted at birth. The pedestrian gate opened and let me through.

  My legs were still shaking when I climbed into my pod, instructing it to take me home.

  I hated the outside. Hated it. I’d never go there again. A tear escaped from my eye and I wiped it away, trying not to think of what might have happened.

  I massaged the chip embedded in the fleshy part of my right hand between my thumb and forefinger, forcing myself to relax.

  The chip. It reminded me of Liam. Of course, he had a chip. Everyone did, or almost everyone. Some naturals refused to have it implanted for religious or political reasons.

  A chip meant Liam could be tracked, as well as any money he spent, where he spent it and any place he visited. I knew the authorities had to wait forty-eight hours before they were legally permitted to track a person's chip, but it had been well over that time frame and my parents had filed a report. How was it that he hadn't been found?

  Unless he’d had his chip removed. Or unless, for some unfathomable reason the authorities didn't want him to be found. That could explain my negative premonition about Officer Grant. It seemed unlikely, but it was the only answer I could come up with.

  What had Liam gotten himself into?

  It was dark by the time I got home. Paul was reclining on the sofa in the living room reading his tablet. The sight of him engaging in a leisure activity caused my anger to burn. I’d just risked my life trying to find Liam, and he was sitting here, reading?

  “Why aren't you doing something?” I demanded.

  “What?” Paul seemed startled by my presence.

  “Liam is missing and you're just ...” I flapped my arms.

  He swung his legs around to a sitting position. “Now wait a minute, Zoe. You're not the only one who wants to find Liam.”

  “Then why hasn't he been found? He has a chip! Why haven't the authorities found him by now?”

  Even if he was dead, they should've found him, but I didn't say that part aloud.

  When Paul didn't answer, I turned my back to him and stomped upstairs to my room.

  There were only two reasons I could think of as to why the authorities couldn't find my brother. He was involved in something bigger than I and my parents had thought, something the authorities wanted to keep quiet, or Liam had removed his chip himself somehow in order to prevent discovery. Neither thought was very comforting.

  And then there was Zack Dexter. What part, if any, had he played in Liam's disappearance? If he knew anything, I needed to find out what it was.

  But that would mean going back to the outside, and the thought of that caused my nerves to twitch. I detested the outside. I didn't belong there.

  Chapter 5

  When I saw Alison’s drawn face at the breakfast table the next morning, I knew my brother hadn’t returned. The toast was dry and tasteless in my mouth as I accepted my fate. I had to go outside. I had to find this Dexter person.

  My mind worked at something to say to my mother, some small word of comfort, but I drew a blank. I tossed the uneaten portion of my breakfast into the trash and headed back upstairs. My heart sped up as I thought about my plan–my next move.

  I stared at my pale image in the mirror over my dresser. No point in putting on make-up or bothering with my hair, not where I was going. Instead I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then I headed back downstairs to the garage.

  I hopped into my pod and directed it to the nearest costume shop. Sol City had several, since its citizens often celebrated festivals that required masquerading. I knew I had to change my look dramatically. Not only so I would fit in on the outside, but so Noah Brody wouldn't recognize me. It was entirely possible he would be with Zack Dexter.

  The Sol City shopping district took up several square miles. Three and four-story malls filled entire blocks, and bright, digital signs beckoned shoppers to come in and spend. I parked my pod in the lower-level car park and took the glass elevator to the main level. I walked past, and sometimes through, holographic models showing off the latest fashions in the middle of the stores.

  I entered Costume Crazy, and a tall, slender clerk in a pink wig greeted me.

  “May I help you?” she said.

  I glanced at the girl’s name tag. It said Raine. “I need to drastically change my look.”

  “Are
you going to a party? What’s the theme?”

  “Not a party. More like I want to surprise someone.”

  “Oh, you want to trick them into thinking you’re someone else?”

  I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling vulnerable, unsure that I could pull the charade off. “Yeah, that.”

  Raine tugged on her pink wig. “So, subtle, not flashy?”

  “Right. I want to blend in.”

  “In Sol City?”

  “Uh, no,” I said, my heart sinking. “The outside.”

  She hesitated for a moment then started walking. “Let’s start with the wigs.”

  The wigs were made of real hair. I ran my fingers through a few, admiring them. “I think brunette is a good idea,” I said.

  Raine helped me try on several, and I chose one with mid-length chestnut strands. Once my own hair was pinned up and tucked under it, the wig looked convincingly real.

  “Okay, so now, you’re brunette,” Raine said, “but you still kind of look like you.” She sashayed down another aisle and I followed her.

  “Try these.” Raine handed me a small package containing a pair of brownie-colored contacts. “There’s a sink and mirror over there. Here are the drops.”

  My eyelids fluttered like crazy, resisting the intrusion, and she had to guide me through the procedure. Once the brown lenses slipped over my pale blue eyes, I knew there was no going back. My earlier decision not to wear make-up was a good one.

  A smile crept over my face unbidden as I inspected myself in the mirror. Even I couldn't tell who I was.

  Raine offered a small applause. “Totally different person. It’s amazing how hair, make-up—or in your case, no make-up—and eye-color define a person.”

  Now for a wardrobe. People on the outside dressed a little differently. They tended toward darker colors, if what I saw on TV and in my short stint on the streets was any indicator. GAPs usually went for higher-quality, costlier wear. Raine helped me find a pair of last year's jeans and a plain soft-blue t-shirt. When I considered my full alteration in the mirror, I thought for the first time that maybe I could do this. Maybe I could deceive Noah Brody.

  “Well, if you’re looking for the wall-flower look,” Raine said, appraising me. “I think you nailed it.”

  I thanked her and scanned my palm in payment before leaving. Then I instructed my pod to take the new Zoe Vanderveen to the north gate. Unfortunately, Paul had programmed the pod to shut down at the gates, so I had no choice but to walk once I got there.

  Then I remembered that Noah knew my real name. I needed a fake one. My mind went through a few options until I settled on Chloe Morgan. Chloe because it rhymed with Zoe, and I wanted a name I would be most likely to respond to instinctively, and Morgan because it was Alison's maiden name.

  My ring buzzed before I got to the gate. It was Jackson. I turned off the visual before I answered.

  “Zoe?”

  “Hi, Jackson.”

  “How come I can't see you?”

  “Um, I turned the visual off because I just stepped out of the shower.”

  “Really? That sounds steamy. Turn it on, I want to see.”

  I smiled at the teasing tone of my boyfriend's voice. “Sorry, can't do that.”

  “Maybe another time. So, do you have plans today? There's a beach party starting up this afternoon.”

  My pod reached the gate, and I manually instructed it to find a parking pad. “Um, I'm a little busy, you know, with my brother missing and all that. Alison's a wreck. She can't be left alone.”

  There was an uncomfortable pause then Jackson said, “Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not like I'd forgotten Liam was missing. It's just, I thought it might be good for both of us to do something fun to take our minds off it. Worrying isn't going to bring him home any faster.”

  “What is going to bring him home faster?” I heard that tense edge in my voice again. “He has a chip. Why haven't the authorities found him?”

  Another hard pause. “Good question. I wish I had an answer for you.”

  “Me too. Look, I have to go. Thanks for the invite, but another time.”

  “Yeah,” Jackson's voice had cooled. “Another time.” He signed off without saying good-bye.

  After parking my pod, I made my way to the gates, keeping my head low not wanting to run into anyone I might know.

  The queue that exited Sol City moved quickly since scanning was not required to leave. Still, the realization of what I was about to do made my blood rush. My concern for Liam was the one thing giving me the fortitude I needed to leave the safety and comfort of Sol City.

  Turning right outside the gates instead of left paid off. I soon found myself in a busier, business section where pushing through mobs and bumping casually into strangers was unavoidable. The outside lacked the wide streets common to Sol City and had a higher population density. The earth was home to nine billion people, most of whom lived in mega cities not unlike this one.

  I felt lost in the crowd, but in a way, I also felt safer because of it. I was physically transformed and walked the streets of the outside like I'd done it a million times.

  Now that I was on the outside, I had to start thinking like one of them. Even though everyone in Sol City called the area beyond their gates “the outside,” this region had an official name: Los Angeles.

  I was in LA surrounded by naturals, and naturals, I'd determined, were a peculiar breed. My nose was assaulted by the strange scents of various smoking materials and road side food kiosks.

  All traditional ethnicities were mingling together, as if they didn't even notice the differences in their skin tones or the color of their hair or if they were old or fat.

  When nothing terrible happened in the first twenty minutes, I started to calm. I paused to take a better look at my surroundings. Tall modern buildings of glass and steel mixed in with heritage buildings from the turn of the century. They were features Sol City lacked since it was only a couple of decades old. Grandiose digital and holographic billboards dotted the streets, high and low, and flashing, rotating images advertised everything from business prospects to the latest trends in cars and fashion to every kind of new technology.

  The whole affair was overwhelming. How would I ever find one boy in this cauldron of people?

  I was about to call my venture a failed experiment when I spotted the old clock tower Noah Brody had rallied in front of in the distance.

  Traffic moved quietly but quickly, either propelled by solar electricity or along magnetic grids like the transit pods. I headed to a pedestrian bridge that would take me closer to the clock tower and grabbing the rail, I rode the moving stairs upwards, trying not to get annoyed as people pressed against me.

  Once down the steps on the other side of the roadway, I scanned the groups of people loitering around the clock tower. I could see now that it was attached to an old church. Stucco had fallen away in places baring the brick exterior underneath. A number of stained-glass windows had been boarded up, and I could tell it was no longer in use. Nearby there was a fountain where teens lounged on benches, eating and drinking and talking loudly.

  I scoured the crowds hoping to spot that brilliant red hair. Instead of Dexter, I found Noah Brody. His attractive body rested casually on one of the benches. A couple of girls sat on either side of him, giggling at something he said. He laughed, too, and I was surprised to see him do something other than scowl. The girls played off whatever witty thing he must’ve told them, flirting openly.

  I inched closer, thinking maybe I could position myself near enough to hear what they were talking about. I shuffled in behind a couple who were holding hands, still nervous I might reveal myself. Maybe my disguise wasn't as great as I thought. The couple made a sudden right turn, and I froze. I was directly beside the bench. But Noah had disappeared; only the girls remained.

  He wasn't the one I was looking for anyway, so I stepped backwards, craning my neck and searching for the boy with red hair, when I bumped up against someon
e.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, turning around. Then I let out a soft gasp.

  Noah Brody stood directly in front of me, his right hand holding a newly opened soda can away from his body.

  “Watch where you're going,” he sputtered, our eyes catching for a moment before he glanced over my shoulder.

  Had he recognized me? His expression gave nothing away. He stepped around me, leaving me standing in his wake.

  I was hit with a sudden inspiration. “Wait!”

  Noah turned, his face sullen. “Yeah?”

  “I saw you on TV.”

  His body stiffened.

  “I thought you were great,” I added quickly. “I totally agree with everything you said.”

  I tensed as Noah considered me, his eyes narrowing in what I now suspected was his signature look.

  “Really,” I added, just in case he still doubted me. “Those GAPs are junk.”

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  I swallowed. “I'm Chloe Morgan.”

  “I haven't seen you hanging around here before.”

  I hadn't thought of a back story. He was waiting, wearing that narrow glare again. I muttered, “I just moved here.”

  “From where?”

  “Uh, New San Diego.”

  “New San Diego?”

  I crossed my arms, rousing up all the attitude I could muster.

  “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

  I hoped that was the end of the inquisition. I remembered how he had responded to those flirty girls and decided on a new tactic. Flirtation was a skill I possessed. I tilted my head and offered a shy smile and mild batting of the eyes.

  Noah returned a careful grin.

  “No, that’s cool. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

  He motioned to the girls that he was leaving. They gave me a sharp look before following behind. I wondered what it was about Noah Brody that had them jumping at his beck and call. He led them under an ancient highway overpass, the kind that used to be traveled on when old fashioned automobiles still ran on fossil fuels. Back when there was still plenty to be had. A rusted out car lay discarded in the ditch, overgrown with weeds. I had only seen restored versions in one of Sol City's museums before. A MagLev sky-train hummed as it floated along tracks high above.