Pure

by Karen Krossing

  Jonah stopped pacing. “Don’t look at me like that, Lenni.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like that. Think of how hard this is on me. Do you know what they’re saying to me?”

  “Who?”

  “They tease me wherever I go. Jobey’s the worst. Someone even broke into our place while I was at Current. Smashed everything and painted messages on the walls. Skidge lover.” He shook his head and began pacing again. “I don’t even want to talk about it. My mother’s going to move with me. She says I need to put all this behind me. Go to my new school and pretend this trouble never happened.”

  “Pretend I never happened?” My voice shook.

  “No, Lenni. I…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. “I need to be careful. Think about my future. Purity has been to see me.”

  He gripped my hand. I pulled it away.

  How did I miss this? I had sketched him. Connected to him. Then I remembered the look on his face back in the cafe, when we first saw Redge. He had asked if I thought Redge was skidge, and his face had been twisted with dislike. He hated skidge. Even me. Even skidge he used to love. Jonah was no different from Purity.

  Then, in that room under the gleaming hospital lights, Jonah wasn’t so beautiful anymore. All the warmth he had once brought me vanished. Yet the part that hurt — the part that Jonah was breaking loved him still.

  I stepped back. In his sleeveless shirt I could just see my favorite part of him. The ripple of muscles across his shoulders, glistening with a fine layer of his skin’s oil. He could lift me with those strong arms. Hold me. I’d so miss the perfume of him.

  “I wish it were different. I wish you weren’t…” He stopped, glancing down at his shoes. A long shudder disturbed his body, as if he was disgusted by the idea of what I had become, what I’d been all along.

  “Skidge,” I finished for him, wanting to spew the word in his face. Jonah was weak — too afraid of Purity to help me. I wanted to hate him for it, but I could only feel a huge wound slashing open inside me — the raw hole that his departure made.

  Jonah left without saying good-bye. Without touching me. Only the faint musk of him lingered in my room.

  I lay on my bed. Maybe it was the dull, cloud-filtered light through my window, maybe it was the depressing rattle of carts in the hallway, but suddenly I thought I would faint, I missed Jonah so much. An hour later, when Elyle came to see me, I still hadn’t moved.

  “I’m being released, Lenni.” Elyle said, stroking my hair. She probably thought I was upset about my parents. She wouldn’t know about this new injury. “I’m leaving to see Mara and Leonard. Maybe I can arrange for you to meet with them, too. You need to talk to them, understand why they did this.” She sighed. “They thought they were doing what was best for you.”

  Talk to my parents? I never wanted to see them again. And I didn’t want to understand them. Why didn’t they ever have to understand me?

  “Lenni, did you hear me?” Elyle raised her voice. “Are you all right?”

  I gave a slight nod, saying nothing. I didn’t tell her about Jonah. I couldn’t. An ocean surrounded me that Elyle couldn’t span. I was alone. I was skidge. Just like Redge. The rest of the world seemed ridiculous. Redge. Doctor Frank. Even Elyle. We were all doomed anyway, marching off to our own hopeless battles.

  “I’ll be back soon, with news,” she promised.

  I nodded again, too defeated to cry, too despairing to expect anything but the worst.

  Then with one last worried glance, Elyle disappeared, just like Jonah had, over that threshold that I was forbidden to cross without my guard.

  tested

  “Try,” Doctor Frank begged. “Are you worried about seizures? The device I installed will stop them.”

  The pathetic creature lay on the table, breathing heavily. I think he was a cross between a squirrel and a dog. Doctor Frank had called him a squog.

  “I know that. I just can’t do it.” I couldn’t bear to look at the poor thing. He was a reminder of what I had become. “Who made him?”

  The walls were drab yellow, the lights shone bright, and the room had a chemical smell. I hated this lab and what it meant — that experiments like me were created here.

  “We did,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “In this very lab. Come on. Just one try.”

  “You have a false womb here?” Didn’t he under-stand that he should stop these experiments?

  “Only for use on animals.”

  Like that made a difference. “Why?”

  Doctor Frank frowned. “Why what?” He sounded impatient.

  “Why did you make him?” Not because he cared.

  “It’s a harvester.” He spoke as if I should have known. “Squogs were designed to hunt for nuts, shell them, and return them to their owners. They can be trained to collect fruit as well.”

  “What about machines or humans? Couldn’t they do the job?”

  “Well, I suppose, but that’s not the point. Creatures like this will be part of our future, Lenni. They’re miracles of creation. Miracles that we brought to life.”

  I huffed. “What went wrong with the miracle?”

  “Wrong?”

  “Why does he look like that?”

  I glanced at him and wished I hadn’t. A bundle of limp brown fur with a long stringy tail. Scrawny, with eyes glazed gray. He was panting for breath, not moving but for the rapid in-and-out of his tiny chest. My stomach knotted. I looked away, down at the polished white floor tiles.

  “It seems to have developed an asthmatic condition that hasn’t responded to conventional treatments. Now, try it.”

  I wanted to scream. I was just like this sorry creature. “Why are you making creatures to suffer? Didn’t you learn anything from Redge? From me?”

  Doctor Frank jerked in surprised, then began to scratch distractedly at his rash. “Redge talked to you? Well, he doesn’t always see the whole picture. He doesn’t see the possibilities that lie before us. How we can make life better for people like him, and you, if we understand more about genetics.”

  “Make life better? Oh, yeah, my life is so much better now!”

  “That’s not what I meant. If only we could have the freedom to research, to understand the full complexity of human DNA, we could do so much more. We could heal Redge and yourself. We could…”

  “But you made Redge broken in the first place!”

  “That was an accident. Everything should have worked. I won’t make the same mistake again. Now, please, Lenni, could you just try?”

  “I can’t do it. Don’t you get it? I’ve lost my abilities.”

  Doctor Frank pleaded with his eyes. “Don’t you know what you are? You’re something new, exciting, superhuman. If we could only understand how you heal, and tap into it, I could help you control it. We could heal anyone!”

  My head was pounding. My skin was hot and clammy. I wanted to lie down. I shook my head and my vision blurred momentarily. I was too sick to sit up. How could I heal the poor squog?

  Doctor Frank tilted his head. “You’ve heard of energy healing, haven’t you?”

  “What?” I was surprised. Energy healing sounded like what I had done.

  Doctor Frank smiled then, like a kid with a new toy. “I’ve been looking into it since you arrived. Apparently, energy healers are able to blur the boundary between the physical and the unseen aspects of our world. The interesting thing,” he said, his voice rising, “is that tests have shown that a healer can send a charge of up to eighty volts through the skin to another person.”

  “Oh.” Energy volts? I thought of Mur. Maybe she was from the unseen. Could I find her again? “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you need to know what you can do! What you’re capable of!” he exclaimed. “Exceptional healers can affect the brain-wave pattern of a person from a block away. Russian scientist Judith Chalikov tested one energy healer named Gertrude Borgough. Her brainwave pattern was typically theta, the pattern asso
ciated with the state between waking and sleeping, as well as meditation. The tests we’ve conducted on you so far show similar results.”

  “So?”

  “So! Just think about it! All matter is energy. Our bodies are energy. Energy is non-physical and infinite. Energy cannot die. It can only transform. You can transform it.”

  “I told you, I can’t. I could do it before, but not anymore.” Not without Mur.

  “If we could only get you into a theta state. It should happen on its own. Who knows what you could do — who you could connect with.”

  For a moment, I let myself imagine that I could connect with Mur, that I could help that squog. Then reality popped the dream bubble. I knew I’d never connect. I couldn’t.

  The squog took another gurgling breath. It broke my heart just to listen. He heaved his head to the side and stared at me. Big deep eyes. I sunk into them. The squog gurgled again.

  I had healed that woman in the commons without meaning to, and I had healed Elyle out of desperation and guilt for pushing her. A real healer would help anyone who needed it. Like this squog.

  “I’ll try,” I said, sighing. “For the squog.”

  “Great.” Doctor Frank clapped his hands together. “Now, lie back, shut your eyes, and listen to my voice.”

  I lay back in the molded chair he had set up parallel to the squog’s flat table. The overhead lights hurt my eyes, and I squinted. Doctor Frank raised the chair with a foot lever and began to attach some small devices — probably sensors — to my head and chest.

  “You may hear me moving about,” Doctor Frank said, “but just ignore me.”

  I shut my eyes. Ignore him. Ignore the painful breathing of the squog beside me and the smell of damp fur. Easy.

  “Good. Now, quiet your mind. Stop the brain chatter. You want to relax your body. I’m sending you a little help. There. That should make you relax.”

  I felt a rush of something cool flow into me through the devices attached to my skin. It was such a pleasant change from the throbbing heat I’d felt for so long. I relaxed without trying.

  “Your blood pressure is lowering; your heart rate is slowing. So is your breathing. Good. Yes. Do nothing, now. Let your mind be quiet.”

  I lay still, trying to do as he said.

  “You may begin to hear a sound like waves, your hands and arms may grow numb, and you may feel as if you’re floating. You should get a feeling of peace, of interconnection with other life. That’s when you reach out to the energy of the squog. That’s when you give the instructions to heal. Now. Heal the squog.”

  He made it sound simple. I reached out for the squog, feeling a little squeamish. Connecting to a squog was nothing like connecting to Elyle or Jonah.

  Forget about Jonah, I thought. He’s gone. It’s over. Yet I couldn’t block him from my mind. I wanted him back. I wanted to connect to him again.

  “Stay relaxed,” Doctor Frank warned.

  Right. The squog. I reached out again. Mur? Hello? Please, Mur? It was as if my head was banging against solid stone. I couldn’t break through. I wanted to help the squog, I really did. But without Mur, I was worse than useless.

  I opened my eyes.

  “I can’t do it.”

  Doctor Frank sighed nosily. Then I noticed Rylant beside him, hands on hips and one eyebrow raised skeptically.

  “What is she doing here?” I sat up, banging my head on an overhanging scanner. Doctor Frank must have lowered it while my eyes were closed.

  Rylant raised both eyebrows.

  Be careful with her, I reminded myself, rubbing my head. It was hard not to blame her for everything that had happened. If only she hadn’t investigated me. If only she hadn’t interrogated Dad, I mean Leonard. And Mother. If only she hadn’t uncovered their secret.

  “Why so angry?” Rylant asked in her raspy voice. “I’m only here to help.”

  That kind of help I didn’t need. “I don’t like being watched,” I said.

  “Hmm.” Rylant frowned at me. “You know, Lenni, Purity is here to protect you. Don’t you agree, Doctor Frank?”

  Doctor Frank nodded dutifully.

  Yeah, right, I thought. Just like Purity protected Redge, Duke’s brother, and Febber.

  Rylant continued. “Our mandate is to regulate and protect the gene pool — for you, for me, for everyone in the Purity settlements and beyond. We aren’t out to hurt anyone. In fact, we work to heal natural constructs, and we only regulate unnatural constructs. We heal them, too — animal or human — whenever possible.”

  Sure you do, I thought.

  Then Rylant pointed to the squog, who was now shaking with each breath. “That’s why we limit gen-eng on humans. Because mistakes are too easy to make.”

  I agreed with her there, but I didn’t admit it.

  “So, you see, Purity is here to help you. We try to undo the damage. We repair rather than replace a cell. Like with you. You did nothing wrong. You were a victim. But we have to clean up your parents’ mistakes, and learn as much as we can in the process.”

  “So I’m just an experiment to you, after all?”

  “Of course not. But just think about it. What if the procedures we develop from your test results could save lives? How many lives would it take until the sacrifice of one person would be acceptable? What if we could save the lives of one million people? Or countless future generations? Is the sacrifice of one worthwhile if it means we could save many?”

  I didn’t say anything. “So I should just sacrifice myself for Purity? Is this squog a sacrifice, too?”

  “Not a sacrifice. It’s more like a public service. Caring for your children and your children’s children. That’s why I’m going to request that you do whatever Doctor Frank says. It’s simple. Your healing abilities could help countless people. I’m sure you’ll agree.”

  Doctor Frank nodded, happy to agree with anything Rylant said.

  “Oh, sure. I’m so glad to help,” I said, pushing as much saccharine at her as I could.

  She glanced at Doctor Frank, then back to me. Her jaw clenched. “I’m sure you are.”

  Doctor Frank rubbed nervously at the rash on his head, but I got some satisfaction at the way Rylant slammed the door on her way out.

  downpour

  Four days later, the rain was hammering Dawn, dripping down my window in long, snaky currents. I longed to feel the outside air on my skin, to inhale more than the sterile vapor of the medical unit, and I cursed Purity for keeping me from the wet earth smell that would follow the storm. Since June, the steady heat had withered most plants, other than lifewort. Now the winter rains would make the air chokingly humid then, finally, cool it.

  I sighed, turning from the window to pace another loop around my insufferable burgundy room. I couldn’t listen to one more online lecture or endure any more tests. Doctor Frank still wanted me to heal something, anything. He hoped that he could strengthen me, somehow make me regain my abilities. He wanted to isolate the offending genes and find a way to reprogram them. Would that make me unable to heal again or help me repeat it? I didn’t care either way. I just kept hoping that my visit with Jonah had been a nightmare — that he might still walk through that door and hold me like he had before. It was a pathetic dream, and I hated myself for wanting it, especially because it made the return to reality as pleasant as shattering a glass jar over my head. If only I could have found comfort in sketching, but that, too, had been denied me.

  When I could stand my room no longer, I wandered out into the hall, nodding to my annoyingly responsible Purity guard. This one was about ten years older than me, with slick black hair and chiseled cheekbones. The upward tilt of his chin gave him an arrogant air, and he looked at me as if I were going to infect him.

  “Shall we go visit Hedge?” I asked in a sarcastic, chilly tone.

  Not waiting for his response, I turned sharply left, knowing he would be two steps behind me, straight-backed and superior.

  Redge’s room was in the same wa
rd — the restricted quarters reserved for skidge. I knocked on his door, waited a minute, then ambled in, but the burgundy room, a mirror of my own, was empty. Then I remembered. It was Monday, so he would be at the Academy. He was still allowed to attend; in fact, Doctor Frank insisted on it. Not that I wanted to go. I wouldn’t want to meet up with anyone I knew. Like Jonah, if he hadn’t left for his new life yet. Or even worse, Jobey Mendleson and his marauding gang of genetically perfect thugs. Suddenly, I got this image in my head of being surrounded by Jobey and his cronies as they jabbed and prodded me, taunting endlessly, while Jonah watched without helping. It was so similar to my dream of fire that it made me pause. My whole family had known I was skidge, had watched me walk into this mess without a warning. Now, Jonah had deserted me. They’d all left me to burn.

  I rambled back up the hall with a wild restless energy and nothing to do except mull over depressing thoughts. I still had two hours until my next test, which wasn’t much to look forward to. I considered spitting on my untalkative companion, just to watch him writhe in infected DNA, but it wasn’t worth the trouble I’d get into. Maybe he had to go through cleansing after every shift — that would be a satisfying punishment for his stuck-up smirk.

  Then, as I rounded the corner to the medic station, I bumped into Redge with his own Purity guard, returning from the Academy.

  “Hey, Len. Wow, did I have a day! I was at the artificial reality labs. Those things are pure! Jay Downs, the lab tech, boosted the sensory input into my legs. I was walking, if only in my mind!”

  Redge was grinning and pushing his wheels with gusto. So much for hating the Academy. Even his Purity guard couldn’t dampen his spirits.

  “Great,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

  Redge and I turned back to his room with our shadowy companions.

  “Guess what else I did?” Redge lifted his front wheels off the floor then wiggled the back of his chair from side to side in a wheelie dance. I noticed his finger-tips were practically healed from that Blass game incident.

  “What?” I asked, wondering where he’d found such enthusiasm.