Jai sat up straight. “But, Mom, you’ve seen it for yourself. My blood’s kept me young and strong all these years. Just imagine what it could do to help you now. You’re not even sick. Your mind’s still strong. My blood could strengthen your body, maybe help you move around more easily. Who knows what it could do? It may even give you another ten years.”
Jai hoped Joy would listen. She had searched secretly for a sentient scientist to help them. Unlike the rest, Dr. Kevin Mace, had a particular interest in speciation. Jai remembered the first time she'd seen him, on the cover of Time, with wavy brown hair that fell loose over a disconnected undercut, cropped close to his scalp. A friendly smile and blue-gray eyes made him look boyish, but he was well respected in the scientific community and in the news. Indeed, they'd nicknamed him the Rising Star of sentient science.
Still, when Joy’s health declined, Jai approached him with a healthy amount of precaution. She called him, introduced herself as if she merely had a fascination with his published work, like she was just a fan; she donned her mental cloak; and, she masked her voice. She also placed conditions on her sponsorship: he must never inquire into her business, who she was, what she did, and, most certainly, whether she was sentient or human. He didn’t even know her name. He didn’t care, though, given Jai’s overwhelmingly hands-off approach. Jai had given him an exorbitant sum of money to do the science he wanted to do, satisfied that its purpose was for scientific exploration. It was a dream come true. All scientists would love the freedom, to be creative in the lab without having to bend over backwards to meet precise funding requirements, some from institutes with ill-advised directives. With her support, he was able to focus on his research: how sentients had likely evolved, what made one sentient different from another at a mechanistic level. Not grant writing. And, she became the most significant patron of his lab. Soon, he was able to continue working absent any other funding. Moreover, he was not one to sugar coat, embellish, or make false promises. It solidified Jai’s decision to place her trust in him.
“The media has high hopes for sentient blood transfusions. Are sentient-to-human transplants possible?” Jai asked, trying to contain her enthusiasm.
He warned her. “You have to remember that, even between sentients, the body can spurn foreign cells. In that respect, sentients are just like other species. Rejection is always a potential threat, whether we’re dealing with allotransplantation between two of the same species, or a xenograft between two separate species.
“Plus, human-sentient cell interaction testing is only in its infancy. There’s certainly a market for it, with a long list of humans who would like to participate. The problem is finding enough sentients to participate. It’s sad to say, but most in our community care little for the human population. That’s why current studies, at least for the time being, are sentient-specific.
“As you know, not all sentients are created equal. We might’ve ended up in the upper echelons of our chosen fields, but not all sentients are blessed with the same skills. The only similarity among all sentients is our ability to siphon. So, lots of sentients want what they don’t have, and sentients are willing to pay a lot of money for other sentients’ blood. That’s why most private funding is focused on sentient-to-sentient transplantation. But, even there, many factors play a role, and success is never guaranteed. There’s a dearth of data.”
But, Jai had to ask. “What about sentient-to-human transplantation, within the same family?”
“I see where you’re going. I’m sorry to say, studies for interfamilial transplantation are non-existent. What’s common is the family unit being torn apart. Most humans, like my family members, have and will reject their ‘non-human’ sentient. Actually, most sentients I know left home and never looked back. I don’t bear my human family any ill will (I’ve forgiven them now), but the overwhelming sentient mentality is: why expend limited resources to donate our blood to humans, to extend a bloodline…a species…that rejected you, precisely because your blood isn’t like theirs? Now, I don’t share that view, but I can understand where it’s coming from. It’s an altruistic leap most sentients are not prepared to make, not even within the scientific community. The funding’s just not there.”
Jai pressed lightly. “And, what if the funding became available?”
Jai could sense his breath skip a beat. “If a suitable human and,” with skepticism, “willing sentient could be found, I would love to do the transplantation, off the books.” The excitement was rising in his voice. “When can we start?”
“I’ll be in touch,” was all Jai could say, unsure if the human she had in mind would be willing. A week had passed since her talk with Kevin. Now, she looked at her mom, resting in bed.
Joy laughed. “What’s with that look on your face? Now I know you’re up to something.”
Jai took her mother’s hand. “I’ve been asking some careful questions, developing relationships with the right people, privately,” she assured. “I’ve found a way we can test my blood, to see if it’s compatible with yours.”
“Jai!” Joy shot her a stern look. “Not again. Must we fight about this for another decade?”
“This is different, Mom! When we spoke about it before, it was just a vague possibility. Things are different now. It’s been four years since sentients were discovered. Scientists study us now; they can even perform sentient-to-sentient transplants. This is the first time I’ve found a sentient scientist who can perform a sentient-to-human transplantation. And, he’s trustworthy. I promise. Please, let’s try it.”
“No, Jai.” Joy shook her head. “For decades, we’ve worked so hard to maintain your anonymity. I will not have you identify yourself, especially not for me.”
“I wouldn’t have to! There are ways to remain anonymous. I mean, that’s a pro to data sets and double-blind studies. And, just look at how far technology’s come. I’ve been able to remain hidden all these years. I’ve talked to him many times, and he has no idea who I am; whether I’m male or female; human or sentient. All we have to do is send him blood samples. There’s no need to reveal ourselves. Certainly not at this stage.”
“No, Jai.” Joy’s face darkened and the conversation took a serious tone. “Do not forget. There’s always a way for someone to trace things back to you.” Joy had drilled that message into Jai, first, when the demand for sentient testing had increased; and, later, when sentient numbers had increased, and there was an even bigger market for sentient-to-sentient blood transfusions. With so many sentients willing to pay for other sentients’ blood, private and public companies, alike, were eager to incentivize the blood donation process. As long as you were sentient, companies were willing to pay for your blood. They spent millions mailing solicitations to every household, without even knowing if a sentient lived there. And, when the scientific data showed that sentient traits strengthened with age, the demand for older sentients’ blood skyrocketed.
No matter what had happened, Joy discouraged Jai from being tested or donating blood, to anyone, for any purpose. Clearly, her position had not changed, no matter how many years had passed. She would stop at nothing to protect Jai’s safety. And, with a quick pull, Joy pulled the bedspread over her chest. “Now, let me rest,” she said sternly and turned away. Conversation ended.
Jai looked away, exasperated by yet another dead-end. But, she knew better than to bother her mom any further. If anything could match her mother’s love, it was her temper. Joy never raised her voice. She didn’t need to. Her disapproving glares and matter-of-fact pronouncements were nothing in comparison to the anger Jai could feel bubbling inside. And, not because Jai was prying. Jai respected her mother’s privacy and mind-synced only when Joy wanted to be open. Jai had even tried to close her mind, to give her mother some privacy as she’d turned away in bed. But, Joy had no intention of closing herself off. She broke the floodgate, and a river of rage filled Jai’s mind. It was the most expedient way to communicate, after all. The answer was a resounding no.
Chapter 20
2120
The first week of November, Jai and Joy flew back to the penthouse, ready to enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s in New York. On New Year’s Eve, Sean whisked her away to Club 10 a half-hour before midnight, and they settled into their private room. Jai had been nursing a headache for the last hour. Sean motioned for her to lay back on the sofa. He rubbed her temples, asking, “How's that feel? Any better?” The left side of her head throbbed with pain, rising and falling with each of her breaths.
“It feels like my brain's clogged. Like I'm gonna have an aneurysm.”
“That good?” Sean smiled. Jai looked up at him, his eyes no less mesmerizing upside down.
“Let me turn down the lights,” Avena said, as she walked the room, dimming the sanctuary lamps along the walls. Sean had built Club 10 from the ground up, the first sentient club in the Big Apple. It’d won many architectural and design awards, and it was one of the most popular sentient clubs in the United States. He had outfitted it with every high tech device he could think of, but also installed sanctuary lamps in the club's private rooms, a throwback to tradition. Eternal flames, they would never go out in this new home, his home away from home. Jai closed her eyes as the flames softened the room and Sean massaged her neck. Meanwhile, Diana and Borda challenged each other to a game of chess, and Mach fiddled with a new pair of smart lenses he'd bought pre-loaded with his favorite journals. They’d ushered in so many New Years, they preferred to keep it low-key.
But, the butler, Quaid, came bursting into the room. “Mr. McCarthy! We've got a problem. There's a mob forming outside. You've all got to go."
"What?" Sean demanded clarification. Jai sat up as everyone stopped to listen.
"There's been an attack. At Club O, down south. A group of women witnessed a sentient siphon a man outside the club…and not willingly."
"What an idiot!" Borda yelled.
"I know," Quaid agreed. "Breaks every club rule we have and, worse, the prey screamed out for help. A group of humans ran to his aid. One of them used a smart lens to record everything before the sentient took off.”
“He got away?” Jai asked.
“No.” Quaid shook his head. “The sentient's in police custody. It's unclear if he's talked or what he's said so far. Our club contacts say higher-ups are now involved. His family’s human. I'm told he's close with them."
Sean took a deep breath. "We'll worry about that later. What about outside? Tell me."
"Club O’s been torched. Here, there's a horde assembling at the doors.”
"Take the guests to the chute," Sean said, referencing the secret tunnel underneath the club. It led to a private elevator, with access to the subterranean parking garage and to the rooftop jetpad.
"Will do," Quaid said. "We've barricaded the entry points. System’s set to red. I'll start leading the guests out."
"We'll help," said Borda.
"We’ll help too," said Avena. Diana and Mach stood up to join them.
"I've gotta take off, make sure Joy’s safe," said Jai. Most likely, her mom was sleeping. Jai needed to make sure.
"I'll take you." Sean looked back and gripped Avena's hand.
"Stay safe," Avena said. She kissed Jai on the cheek.
"Meet us, at the penthouse?” Jai asked. They all agreed.
Sean gripped Jai's hand as they ran past Sean’s office, down a private hallway, then turned right. A quick elevator ride and they were on the jetpad. He flew them home. Jai ran up the stairs. The alarm beeped incessantly until she was outside her mother’s room. "Disarm!" she ordered, and peeked in slowly. Joy was already sitting on the edge of her bed, watching the newscast hovering beside the bed. The virtual speakerphone was dialing, then ringing, loudly in the background.
"Jai! I was just calling you."
She ran over. "I'm out of pocket. I forgot my phone. Sorry I worried you.”
"I would've been worried, had you not come home. Sirens woke me up. Heard them from way up here." The civil defense system was still blaring full force, echoing from the ground below.
"Steer clear of the windows," Jai said. She closed all the blinds.
"Come in, dear," Joy said. She waved at Sean, who was standing at the doorway. Sean bowed his head, and they watched the news unfold.
The news anchor made it clear. “For those of you just joining us, the perpetrator has been captured. He is in custody. Soon, we’ll hear from the Police Commissioner, who will provide a statement. It's our understanding that the perpetrator is sentient. He was outside when the incident occurred, and…." The screen cut away, as the Commissioner came into view. Standing at the podium, she stood, surrounded by the press.
"At 11 p.m., at a sentient Club in South Carolina, a group witnessed a male, a confirmed sentient, attack a victim. We’ve confirmed the victim is human and he is now in critical condition. It’s unclear if the victim will make it through the night. The incident’s been captured on video, and shared via online uplink." She paused as the video began to play in a separate screen, hovering on top of the news conference. The Commissioner continued, “Soon after the video went public, at approximately 12:05 a.m., a large group of unidentified individuals began to congregate in the streets, here in New York. They’re focused mainly downtown. Based on their location, and the ensuing riots, it's clear these individuals have targeted establishments and businesses with suspected sentient ties. Riot police were immediately dispatched, and all fire departments have joined forces to try to quell the fires." The screen cut away to an aerial view, scanning the streets below. Masked men and women were running loose along the streets, setting cars and buildings on fire, kicking down doors, shooting through windows. Riot police stood row after row, behind a wall of shields, and shot tear gas into the crowd. Undeterred, the horde did not disperse. With steel bats and bare hands, they hit against the police, a mix of sweat, spit, and blood smearing against their visors. All formations broke, with the police running into the crowd, their batons flailing. They pushed the rioters to the ground and, when that didn’t work, they pulled them by their hair and arms. The rioters were enraged, throwing objects at the police, who fought to keep them from advancing any further.
The Mayor joined the Commissioner at the podium. "Though the rioting is beginning to dissipate, a curfew remains in effect. Anyone left on the streets will be detained for further questioning. Stay inside and keep your doors locked until otherwise informed.”
“Mayor, how many officers injured?” a reporter asked.
“At least 37 officers. More than 30 buildings have been damaged or destroyed. Far more have been looted. 386 people have been arrested, though these numbers are growing. That's all for now.”
The door rang below. Jai ordered the Home system to display the front door. A three-dimensional image of Mach, Diana, Avena, and Borda was projected mid-air. “Home, open,” she commanded, and turned to Joy. “It’s only 4:17. Try to go back to sleep?” Joy agreed, weary from all the stress, and Jai walked downstairs, to join the group in the study.
They were watching Sean at the computer, the video of the incident hovering above them. Aside from a few brief shuffles and some feedback, the video gave an unobstructed view of the sentient, ramming the human against the wall outside Club O. The street lamp was bright against the sentient's pale white skin, and the victim, an old man, cried out in horror, turning his face away, as if looking away could have made a difference. The sentient grabbed hold of the man's frail arms and clenched his fists, as he leaned in. The victim’s face erupted in pain. He screamed for help. Four onlookers began running toward them, but the sentient was not deterred. His face grimacing, he began to tear and claw at the victim’s face. The sentient slammed the man into the wall. The sentient twisted the man's arms, breaking bone. As the man's voice became a shrill howl, feedback filled the room as the camera knocked back and forth. Any viewer would have cringed at the sound of it. But, worse than that, the victim’s face said it all. It was ob
vious he was being siphoned. At first his eyes were wide with feeling. Then, they twisted. His eyes were no longer alert. The human’s face went blank, expressionless, as the sentient siphoned far more than he should have, till there was nothing left. The man’s body fell, a crumpled heap on the pavement. The crowd of humans, the witnesses, bravely descended, screaming at the sentient, who ran off, leaving the victim behind. The camera focused on the old man’s stricken face, his eyes barren under the lamplight.
"Shit!” Avena threw her hand up against her head.
“It could not be any worse,” Diana agreed.
Mach paced up and down the room, looking back and forth at the screen. The latest news update had already named it: siphoning. Mach waved at the screen. “There, there it is. Siphoning, for all the freaking world to see. And, not only do they know, but that's all they know about it!”
“Exactly,” Sean said. “What the world's learned today is we siphon by harming others. It's not the truth, but that's what the world will believe." Sean turned to Jai. “Of course, violence is banned in our community, but sentients can siphon by harming others, whether they’re human or sentient. It’s far cruder, but just as efficient, and the energy that’s released is just as powerful, if not more powerful. For unskilled, uncaring, or just plain sloppy sentients, it’s a shortcut to a life-fortifying meal. We've kept a lid on it so far. There's only been a handful of infractions we know of, but we dealt with them from within the fold. And, no humans died as a result."
Just as Jai began to wonder what that meant, Borda yelled, "Like I've said time and time again, we should've been open about this! Why keep siphoning a secret all these years? What good does it do to stay underground? Maybe if the world knew more about it from the get-go, this mess wouldn't have happened. We should've been at least one voice of reason. We could’ve told our own story. I’ve always said, do it right, and do it from the start. Then, maybe they'd care what we have to say about it. Now that this has happened, hell will freeze over before they give a damn about what we have to say. You can't erase that,” he said, with the wave of his hand. “It's out there, with no advance warning."
Obsidian: Birth to Venus (The Obsidian Chronicles Book 1) Page 12