Colorblind (The Soul Light Chronicles)

by Aaron Slade

  I took notes as she talked:

  The Blight: 2090-2100 (There’s more we don’t know about this time period than what we do know)

  1) In the year 2080, the percent of people with extra-human traits was almost 50% of the entire population.

  2) Humans tried to create policies in their governments that discriminated against people with abilities. Violence broke out in every city across the land. Human political leaders encouraged the violence. They planned to exterminate extra-humans.

  3) The violence led to a global war between humans and extra humans The hostility between the groups devastated the land’s population. Entire cities burned to the ground in the violence and several billion people died (mostly humans).

  4) After four years of violence, the land’s governments collapsed, but the desire for peace never vanished. To achieve peace, a group of extra-humans founded a combative and ruling body known as the Military. In a last effort to stop the war, extra-humans (and some humans) enlisted. The Military enforced strict border laws that prohibited any unregistered person from entering the land. (These same land borders are still in effect today.)

  5) After the fighting stopped and peace was achieved, only twenty-seven percent of the land’s population was still alive. Only eight percent of the remaining population was human (Homo sapien).

  6) In 2100 Military leaders established peace, but groups of humans committed terrorist attacks against society. The leading rulers decided that Homo sapiens could not be trusted. A mandate of all living humans was made, and the Military branded each human so that they could be identified as Homo sapien.

  I put down my pencil and looked up from my notes. Every head on every row was eyeing me. The entire class searched my left shoulder for the brand that I always kept covered. Rolling my eyes, I made sure that the mark was out of sight. I pulled my shirtsleeve over the portion of the scar peeking out.

  The piece of chalk writing on the board stopped with a high-pitched screech. “Eyes to the front people,” Mrs. White demanded. The class turned back to the board where the slender chalk piece continued to write the dates and names Mrs. White recited.

  I decided to listen for the rest of the class. I forced myself to focus on the subject matter of my notes.

  Mrs. White continued talking about how small cities were in ruins, and since the population was so low, the Military moved people to larger cities to repopulate and rebuild. She told us that the land we were born into was still being rebuilt in many ways. All the towns and cities between the populated areas were barren and deserted. Occasionally, one read articles and reports of people living in these areas. They just wanted to be alone. Some of the people were dangerous and were on the run from the Military for something they did. The ruinous cities made good hiding spots for offenders of Military Law.

  “Can anyone tell me how they think the Blight compromised new technological development?” Mrs. White asked the class, trying hard to make eye contact with someone who could answer.

  The room was silent. I raised my hand.

  She spotted my hand, relieved for my participation. “What do you think, Casper?”

  “I think the obvious answer is the amount of people that died during the Blight. There’s no telling how many brilliant minds we lost in the violence. Also, a lot of knowledge and technology was lost during the fighting. When peace was finally achieved scientists and engineers had to rediscover and reinvent technology that had been forgotten like computer technology and television.”

  “Terrific answer,” Mrs. White said in a tone that made her passion for history apparent. “I hope everyone else did the reading.”

  “But I think there’s more to consider than the Blight,” I added.

  Students on the other side of the classroom snickered. I heard their whispers, calling me a suck-up and freak. Intelligence was something I valued, and my peers often made fun of me for it. Although with abilities like Sara’s super-intelligence, I was hardly the smartest person in the school.

  “By all means, Casper, please share with us.” Mrs. White sounded amused.

  “I think the Blight is a big factor on why technology hasn’t changed much in the last two centuries, but I think people are a big reason, too. I think technology served more of a purpose when the population was just human. The rise of extra-human traits replaced a significant emphasis on technology. The body became the new machine to explore deeper. Dr. Miller briefly suggests this in our book as well.”

  “Who agrees with Casper?” she asked the class. “Raise your hands.”

  Sara was the only person to raise her hand. People looked from person to person to see who else might associate themselves with me by agreeing. None of them knew whether they agreed or not– they just didn’t want to be on my side of the argument.

  “Come on, people!” Mrs. White snapped. “Dr. Alfonz Miller is the leading researcher on the war, he’s the most famous Brain of our day… surely some of you agree with him and Casper.”

  Silence.

  “Well I think Casper is onto something,” Mrs. White said, pacing the front of the room. “In the past two-hundred years, society abandoned fields of study like space and sea exploration. In trying to explore the reaches of outer space, scientists and engineers created many inventions that were not only beneficial to their fields but also to everyone.”

  A girl in front took a breath as if to talk. “I still think it was the Blight.” It was Jenny Norris– snooty, stuck-up and popular. “We lost scientists, money, facilities, and resources during that time. We’re still rebuilding. Casper doesn’t have an EHT, so I think it’s natural he would think that the rest of us are too focused on ourselves to care about technological development.”

  Sara spoke weakly. “Casper didn’t mean that people were self-absorbed about their abilities, but rather that people needed technology less, now that these abilities exist. Extra-human traits have replaced a significant need for technology.”

  Jenny didn’t even look at Sara. No one did. Sara sank lower in her desk as if she regretted speaking at all– I knew the feeling well.

  “Has it replaced the need for technology?” Mrs. White asked. “We still want to enjoy our plumbing and electricity, right? What about television and the media? How lost would we be without those? The Military invented nuclear-powered automobiles to help everyone that didn’t have an extra-human trait that allowed them to travel. I think that technological development is still of great importance today.”

  This was why I enjoyed Mrs. White. She encouraged thinking and actually required her students to learn something about not only history, but philosophy as well.

  “There are people today with gifted intelligence and they are trying to revive old technologies and invent new ones,” Jenny continued. “The land we currently live in just lacks the resources to fulfill their visions, right?”

  “But don’t you think it’s going to take more than just the intelligent people to rebuild this land?” Mrs. White asked. “Doesn’t everyone have a responsibility to help society develop?”

  I hoped her question would lead to more discussion, but no one spoke. The bell rang and I immediately started packing my notebooks into my backpack. Mrs. White told us to give her our papers on our way out of the room. As I left the classroom, I handed Mrs. White my report and she smiled at me.

  “I’m sorry about last night, Casper,” she said. She maintained her sympathetic smile trying to cheer me up. “I know some professors in the history departments of some great universities– I’m going to call them and let them know about you. I just know a great school will want to have you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I kept my response short. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore today. And I especially didn’t want to get my hopes up. There weren’t going to be any more University Honor’s Banquets for me.

  Mrs. White meant well. She tried to show me gratitude for taking her class so seriously. Fallon was a small town where thinking was rarely encouraged. Mrs. Whi
te cared about intelligence as much as I did, so I was sure it was frustrating trying to teach uninterested students.

  Second period physics and third period English Lit were a blur. I didn’t like either class as much as I liked history, and without the motivation of college, I didn’t care much. My mind didn’t function as well in mathematics as it did for social science, but I still kept a good grade. I enjoyed English more on the days we watched the movies of the books we’d read.

  My fourth period class, Speech, was my least favorite. Not because I didn’t like the subject or that I wasn’t good at it, but because the teacher never did anything. Mr. Botwin typically slept through his own class. Mostly seniors took Speech because it was easy to be lazy in it. It sounded great at first, but sitting around for fifty minutes doing nothing before lunch was torture.

  I often read or sometimes I listened to people talk. I was fortunate that this was one of Adam’s free periods and he would sometimes teleport in to sit with me. Sometimes, when we felt like risking it, he would teleport us to a restaurant on the other side of Fallon for lunch. The school deliberately kept a close eye on its teleporters, which made it hard for us to escape.

  As I entered my fourth period classroom I saw Adam already sitting at his usual desk next to mine. I headed towards my seat when I felt someone move behind me and catch my arm. Whoever grabbed my arm slammed me into the nearest corner.

  Before I had time to think, I already knew what had happened. Another reason I hated my fourth period class was because Randy Alcott was in it as well. It had been a day or two since he had last tortured me for no reason, and I didn’t imagine he had the time to catch a fly and pull its wings off in the next hour.

  “Good afternoon, Randy,” I muttered. I kept my head low and spoke in a stoic voice. I felt the attention of everyone in the room target me.

  “Good afternoon to you too, freak,” Randy hissed. His hand tightened its grip around my arm. “I think you’re required to show your mark at all times.”

  Just as I raised my head to make eye contact with Randy, I found myself sitting in my desk. What happened? I looked over at Adam who once again had spared me from Randy’s torture. I looked back to the entrance of the room to Randy, who was vacating the empty corner where I’d been trapped seconds before. Teleporting with Adam happened so quickly that it was easy to miss.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, looking over at Adam.

  “I heard them making a plan to give you a hard time last period, so I thought I would help bypass the whole fiasco.”

  “Yeah, but, future forbid, Randy will make it worse when he finds me alone,” I said. I tried to sound like I wasn’t afraid of the potentially unavoidable moment in my future. “You shouldn’t have helped me… Randy’s just going to come after you one of these days.”

  Adam gave a cocky grin. “He’d have to catch me first.”

  Randy made eye contact with me from across the room. He held up his hand that was wreathed in flames. He laughed and joined his friends on the other side of the room. A ruckus of laughter erupted in the group of guys.

  I suddenly became aware of a pain where Randy grabbed my arm. I looked down to discover a raw burn mark in the shape of Randy’s hand on the inside of my elbow. I hadn’t seen a flame, but there must have been a significant amount of heat in his touch. Adam seemed to notice the discolored burn the same time that I did. Parts of my shirtsleeve were singed black– revealing part of my brand. I could even smell the burnt parts of my shirt. I felt nauseated, remembering the familiar stench of scalded flesh.

  “Perfect!” I growled. Out of all the abilities that tortured me, Randy’s was my least favorite.

  “Sorry,” Adam apologized. Seeing me injured wasn’t unusual, even though he had a fairly high success rate at saving me. “I guess I wasn’t quick enough this time.”

  “It could’ve been worse. You did fine.”

  Adam offered to teleport Randy to the bottom of the school’s pool. I smiled at the thought but decided against it, knowing that Adam was only joking anyway. He wasn’t a fighter any more than me. Teleporters were known for avoiding conflict.

  “I’m going to the nurse,” I told Adam. “I’ll just see you at lunch.”

  Adam said goodbye and turned his attention towards a book he pulled out of his backpack. I gathered my stuff and looked back as I walked out the door, noticing Randy give a congratulatory high-five to one of his friends, Allen Young. I looked back at Adam, but he was gone. His inability to be still or stay in one place always amused me.

  As I walked down the hallways towards the nurse’s office a twinge of guilt hit me. I was thankful for Adam helping me out as much as he did, but I wished he didn’t come to my rescue so often. My friendship had cost him a lot in his social life. Just being associated with me made him a target amongst our classmates. He did his best to pretend not to care, but I knew he did. The guilt grew stronger in my throat and chest and I thought for a moment I might cry. It wasn’t just guilt. It was anger too. I was feeling sorry for myself, which I made it a point to never do.

  I cleared my mind of everything. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to make fun of me for crying. Whatever sadness I felt, I turned into hate for Randy and kept walking. I entered the nearest rest room to use a mirror. I needed to convince the nurse this was just an accident, which would be impossible if she saw my eyes glazed with water.

  I looked in the mirror. I didn’t look sad. I thought I looked normal. I tried to smile, but I didn’t believe it was real. I ran my hands through my untamed hair.

  I raised my sleeve up and flexed my arm in the mirror, wishing I were bigger like Adam or Randy. I was a healthy size, but I didn’t have an excess of muscle. I felt stupid for trying to flex. Even if Randy was human and could have a fair fight, he was still bigger than me. I raised my sleeve up further revealing the scar-like brand on my shoulder. A big puffy number eight raised off my skin. I didn’t remember receiving the deep tissue burn, but I did remember my parents being upset about it. I pulled the partially burnt shirtsleeve back over the scar.

  Eight percent of the population had been human, but now it was just me. I pulled my hood up to conceal my face.

  FIRSTS

  Evee:

  The only thing that was worse than not knowing the future, was knowing the future. I’d had the urge to tell Dad what the seer had told me, but it didn’t matter. If Shannon was right, there was no sense in anyone else worrying about my death. I’d slept through most of the drive to Fallon, and stayed up most of the night to arrange furniture and unpack. The new house still seemed empty, but I loved my room. I had the entire second floor to myself.

  I woke up this morning after three hours of sleep. A local soldier arrived at the house to drive Dad and me into town. Dad wanted to inspect the school. It had to meet his safety regulations before he would let me attend.

  The soldier opened the car door for Dad and me, and I noticed his nametag as I lowered into the backseat. His name was Milton. He drove off the Military Base and into the open desert on a sand-covered road.

  Shannon’s words played in my head over and over like a bad song, but I was still eager to see the town and the school, hoping they would distract me from my fear of death. I tried to focus on the thrill of a new town, but there was little joy having moved around as much as I had. The idea of attending a public school was almost exciting. Meeting a boy would even be fun if I didn’t fear it would lead to my death. Every time I thought about it, a sick feeling twisted my insides.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Dad asked. “You’ve barely spoken a word since we left San Diego.” His attention didn’t stay on me long. The stack of papers and folders in his lap preoccupied him.

  “I’m just thinking,” I answered, keeping my gaze focused outside my window. The wind left serpentine stripes along the desert floor. I stared at a sand dune that looked more like an ocean wave the size of a tsunami, surrounded by hilly terrain.

  “What does a seventeen-year-o
ld girl have to think so hard about?”

  “I’m just thinking about the future.” It was an honest answer, but what really troubled me was that I didn’t know if I had a future. My stomach convulsed so bad, I thought I might have to ask the driver to pull over.

  “You don’t have to think about the future,” Dad said. “We will make a nice life for ourselves here in Fallon.”

  “Until we move again,” I said. I knew what Shannon had told me, but every move for the past two years Dad said would be the last. He lied.

  “I have no intentions of moving again,” Dad said. “Honestly, Evee, I’ve never known you to be this negative. Where’s the cheerful daughter I know?”

  “Maybe you don’t really know me,” I said. I wanted my words to burn like acid. Because he was my Dad, I wanted to believe him when he made promises, but promises were just as easy to break as the father-daughter bond.

  He sighed. “Listen,” he started, “things are going to be different here. I’ll have more time to spend with you.”

  “You say that every time we move, but it’s always the same. As soon as we arrive in a new city, you start working and I unpack the luggage– alone.”

  His pen scribbled notes as he tried to console me. “Give it a few weeks and I’ll prove it to you. Just look at Fallon. It’s different from any place we’ve lived. What do you think so far?”

  I didn’t answer, but Fallon was different somehow. Smaller for sure, but the desert scenery, mountains, and plant life made Fallon an oasis in a vast stretch of endless, yellow sand. The town was quaint– all the shops and buildings looked charming. I read all the signs: Newman’s Bakery, Young’s Photography, and Burger Paradise. There were no vacant and condemned buildings decaying onto the streets like in the bigger cities. People smiled and waved as they walked down the sidewalks. Trees lined both sides of Main Street, and there were more stop signs than I could count. Eventually we passed a sign that directed us to the high school. There was something appealing about the town, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from Shannon’s predictions.