by Ann Pino
Cassie wiped her muddy hands on her new gardening smock. “I’m beginning to think this sort of thing will be a lot more useful to them. They only need to read well enough to understand how-to books. Shakespeare and Tolstoy won’t be much help.”
“What about perpetuating our ‘great civilization’ as you and Galahad like to talk about?”
“There will always be a few scholars to keep the higher knowledge alive, just like in the Middle Ages. But if everybody starves to death….”
Leila tossed her head and her earrings jingled. “Right. That’s why we’re taking May a solar cooker—so she won’t starve or poison herself and deprive us of the civilizing influence of art and jewelry.”
* * *
At Cassie’s insistence, they took a utility cart as well as some shovels and bags for collecting dirt. “It would be stupid to go halfway to the park and not bring back soil for the garden,” she pointed out. “Besides, we can hide the box cooker under the empty sacks on the way to May’s. That way no one will try to steal it from us.”
“Like any of those street kids would know what a box cooker was,” Leila said. But she agreed to the plan and soon they were off.
The streets were quiet but the stench of rot and sewage was stronger than usual. “We may have to move to higher floors of the hotel,” Cassie said. “To get away from the smell and the flies.”
“David says they still plan to burn it.”
Cassie gave Leila a skeptical look. “If they do, I hope it’s on a day when the wind will blow the smoke away from us. The smell of burning trash and bodies is disgusting.”
“At least it would only be for a day,” Leila pointed out. “Unlike letting everything rot forever.”
When they arrived at May’s shop, they found it in disarray, with May pacing the floor and cursing. “I was only gone half an hour!”
“Who did it?” Cassie asked. “What did they take?”
“It’s not so much what they did out here.” She gestured at the shop, which was untidy but didn’t appear to be missing much. “It’s what they did in back.”
“Did they take your acids?” Leila asked in concern.
“The acids, the bases, some of my catalytic metals, and what they didn’t take they tried to destroy.”
“Who are ‘they?’?” Cassie asked, but Leila shushed her and took May by the arm.
Cassie followed them into a back room that was equal parts laboratory and art studio. Shattered glass lay everywhere and strange chemicals spilled over the counters and onto the floor. One of the liquids had flowed into contact with a gray powder and together they were fizzling into the countertop. Leila and May were talking chemicals with an earnestness that Cassie found dizzying. It was the first time since the Telo that she had seen Leila use her brain for anything more than fashion, bitterness, and trying to find a boyfriend, and until now, Cassie hadn’t fully grasped the depth of May’s knowledge of chemistry.
On the other side of the room were half-finished art projects including jewelry, paintings, and an attempt at sculpture. Cassie was staring at a mosaic of shattered traffic lights, trying to make these disparate clues about May’s character fit together in her mind, when she heard the word “Pharms.”
“I told you they weren’t reliable,” Leila said. “David says a lot of them are former KDS—Kevorks. They’re only out for themselves, so if the Obits are offering a better deal—”
“No,” May said. “It’s not like that. The Pharms aren’t deserting to the Obits, they’re working for them. Gang for hire sort of thing.”
“Well what they’re offering must be pretty good,” Cassie said, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. “You make basic meds for them to sell. I would think they’d find that valuable enough to protect.”
“Only thing I can think is that the Obits have a drug connection of some sort,” May said. “Maybe they’re large-scale dealers.”
The girls pondered, looking glumly at the shattered vials and broken equipment.
“Who do you think did all this?” Cassie asked again. “What were they after?”
May shook her head in dismay and Leila patted her shoulder.
“Could’ve been anyone,” Leila said.
“But crimes don’t happen for no reason. Who knew there was no guard today?”
“No one I can think of,” May said.
“Maybe one of the Pharms tipped off a friend,” Cassie suggested. “Or maybe they want to scare you.”
“Maybe,” May said. “I think someone just saw an opportunity.” She rubbed her painted cheek, smearing an artistic butterfly. “I guess I’ll find out if the Pharms were involved when they come back from their mission.” She gave Leila and Cassie a weak smile. “If they care about the work I do for them, they’ll give me back my guard.”
“Where did they go, anyway?” Cassie asked, already suspecting the answer.
May gave a resigned shrug. “They’re kidnapping children for the Obits.”
***
When they got back to the hotel, they hurried to tell Mundo what they had heard. A guard let them into Conference Suite A, where the first thing that caught the girls’ attention was something in the center of the conference table that was clearly a cake, even though it was lopsided and lumpy with only a thin scraping of frosting on top. Over stubby glasses of whiskey, Mundo was talking to Alex and a young man in a blue costume that looked like a Civil War uniform. The three looked up as Cassie and Leila stepped into the room, and the soldier touched the bill of his forage cap in greeting.
“We heard some news about the Obits today,” Cassie said.
Mundo motioned for the girls to sit and after they seated themselves in the stained plush swivel chairs, they related what they had seen in May’s shop and what she had told them.
“Interesting,” said the Thespian soldier, rubbing his chin. “I wonder what the Obits have that’s good enough to tempt a Pharm.”
“Drugs, gasoline, ammo?” Alex offered. “There’s a lot they could be offering.”
“The more important question,” Mundo said, “is where the Obits are getting it, whatever it is.”
“It would be nice to find a new source of goods, that’s for sure,” Alex said.
“Even if it’s not something we want,” the Thespian agreed. “There’s always trade.”
While the boys mulled the possibilities, the girls eyed the cake with naked hunger. Cassie was on the point of asking if she could have just a tiny slice when the door to the back room of the suite opened and Doc stepped into the room. At Mundo’s questioning look, he said, “Blood pressure is high, but other than that, she’s fine, as near as I can tell.” He shut the door behind him and lowered his voice. “The book listed some possibilities I don’t like, but since we can’t do anything about it, the best thing is for Nisha to rest, take her vitamins and drink plenty of water. She should make sure the water is good. Run it through the filter, even if you think it looks okay.” He glanced at the girls. “I don’t suppose either of you has had a baby or knows someone who has?”
Cassie and Leila shook their heads.
“Well,” Doc shrugged. “She’s young and basically healthy, so we’ll do what we can and try not to let her get too anxious. Worrying will only make things worse, for her and for you.” He was looking at Mundo now.
Mundo nodded in agreement and turned to the Thespian. “Anyone in your group experienced with babies?” When the soldier made a gesture of bewilderment, Mundo said, “Ask around if you get the chance. This will be my first kid and the first Regent baby. I want it born healthy.”
Talk returned to speculation about Pharms and Obits, but Mundo noticed Leila and Cassie seemed bored. “If that’s all you have for us, no need to stick around.”
The girls stood up, still looking at the cake.
“Go ahead,” he told them. “You’ve done good work today.”
EXCERPT FROM CASSIE’S JOURNAL:
Things are getting weird. Somebody trashed M
ay’s lab, but not in a systematic way that would’ve done them much good. It was almost like they were looking for something and when they didn’t find it, they got mad. May acted like she didn’t know who did it, but there was something about the way she acted that made me think she had a pretty good idea who targeted her and why.
One of Mundo’s girlfriends—the pregnant one—is having complications. Poor Doc! He has no idea what to do and neither does anyone else. Doc just turned fifteen a couple months ago. I bet he’s never even been with a girl, and it must be hard for him to examine Nisha, being clueless not only about pregnancy but about females in general.
I have mixed feelings about seeing a girl my age having a baby. If the human race is to survive, we’re the only ones who can do it, even though we won’t live to see our kids grow up. But is it right to try to carry on? What if the Telo never goes away and life ends somewhere around eighteen for everyone, forever? In that case, it would be best for no one to have babies and for us all to die out. I know it’s a bad thing to think, but I can’t help myself. The only reason to keep trying is in the hope the disease will mutate or we’ll become immune.
That’s what Galahad says, at any rate. He says the reason the Black Death became less lethal was because once there weren’t enough people to spread it easily, the disease couldn’t find enough hosts and the germs died. Of the people who remained, many were immune anyway, or didn’t get as sick as the first generation.
So maybe that’s what will happen with the Telo. In that case, we should do what we can to make sure girls like Nisha have healthy babies, even though I still feel like some parent or teacher is going to come swooping down the hall to say how girls shouldn’t have sex until they’re married. Like how would we get married, with no priests or judges?
I know there’s no one but us to say what’s right and wrong, but it’s funny how the grownups still live in our heads. They only taught us what made sense for their world, though. Now everything is different.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cassie examined her garden boxes and frowned. The potatoes should’ve all sprouted by now, but only half had done so. She had watered and fertilized, and there was plenty of sun. The potatoes had been bristling with eyes when she planted them. There was no reason for them not to have grown.
Annoyed, she dug in one of the boxes with an old spoon. Finding nothing, she dug deeper.
How could this be? She had planted this particular box herself. She turned up plenty of loose soil, but no potatoes.
Suspicious now, she turned her attention to another box. Again, nothing. After a few deep breaths to fight her rising anger, she threw off her gardening smock and stomped downstairs.
Ignoring the hostile look from Mundo’s guard, Cassie burst into Conference Suite A. “Someone stole my seed potatoes right out of the ground!”
Mundo, Alex, and to her surprise, May, all stared up at her. “We’ve got bigger worries right now than potatoes,” Mundo said. “May has been raided again.”
“I’m sorry about your art,” Cassie told her. “But this is about whether or not we eat this fall.”
“And this is about the Telo,” she snapped. “Maybe about the Pharms and Obits, too.”
Mundo motioned Cassie into a chair. “Since you’re here, you might as well stay.”
“It’s not top secret stuff, anyway,” Alex added. “We’re just trying to connect the dots so we can make a plan.”
“This time she was there when it happened,” Mundo explained. “They tied her up and questioned her about…what was it again?”
“Somatropin,” May said. “They wanted to know if I knew how to make it and didn’t believe me when I said no. As if I could make it in that primitive lab, even if I knew how.”
“But what is it?” Cassie asked, noticing the raw patches of rope burn on May’s wrists.
“Human growth hormone,” she said.
“But what’s that got to do with the Telo? Telo attacks the genes.”
“That’s the mystery,” Mundo said.
“One of the guys who interrogated me said his brother had Telo,” May said. “He told me he would die if I didn’t make him some somatropin.” She gave a small shrug. “He could’ve been crazy, of course. Or confused.”
“But it’s interesting,” Alex said. “Why would someone think such a thing would help? That’s a pretty specific request.”
Mundo nodded and was about to say something when there was a perfunctory tap at the door and Mundo’s girlfriend Kayleen entered, pulling Doc along by the sleeve of his lab coat. “I told him it was urgent,” she apologized. “But he was more worried about some brat’s infected foot.” Kayleen threw herself into a chair in disgust.
“I think it’s starting to gangrene,” Doc explained.
“Amputate,” was her answer.
“I’ll remember you said that if it happens to you.”
Mundo waved a hand. “Enough.” He leaned forward. “Your dad was a biochemist, right?”
“Biomedical research,” Doc said. “Why?”
Mundo explained what had happened to May that morning. “A link between Telo and hormones would be stupid, right?”
Cassie could see by the distracted way in which Doc sank into a chair that something Mundo had said hit home.
“My father was an rhGH researcher under contract to Sandoz. He was one of the creators of Omnitrope, a synthetic growth hormone, and he was conducting human-subject testing on a next-gen version of it when the Telo started.”
Mundo frowned in irritation. “Translate that into English, please. Did he know something about the Telo?”
Doc took a breath, and Cassie noticed his hands were clenched as if in prayer. “He got a phone call one night. People were dying, and things were getting crazy. Dad went out in the garage to have some privacy, but something the guy said pissed him off because he started yelling. We could hear him all over the house. He said it wasn’t ethical. He said he’d rather die because at least he’d die with a clean conscience.” Doc bowed his head.
“So can we find out more?” May asked. “Like who called him and what the conversation was about? What did his research turn up that was so unethical?”
“I don’t know.” Doc gave a small shrug. “My dad’s papers and laptop were at the lab when he became symptomatic. Security wasn’t letting people leave with company property, in case they died before they could bring it back. All the records of his work are probably still there somewhere.”
“So let’s go to the lab,” Cassie offered.
The others gave her a look that suggested she wasn’t very bright.
“Pharms,” Doc said. “I went there soon after he died and they had already taken over. They let me have his lab coats and a family photo from his office, but that was it.”
“But that doesn’t have to be the end of it,” Alex said. “We don’t know how hard it is to sneak in and out of a Pharm operation because no one’s ever tried.”
Mundo shifted in his chair. “Sounds like a lot of risk for something we don’t know will be of any use. I don’t want to jeopardize our trade relationship right now. Nisha may be needing pain meds and antibiotics soon.”
“Narcotics aren’t good for her,” Doc said. “And we can trade with one of the other tribes for antibiotics if she develops puerperal fever or something.”
“Besides, with all due respect, this is more important than one pregnant girl,” May added.
“No.”
“Come on, man.” Alex leaned forward. “Let me take a team over there and scope it out. For all we know there might be no danger at all. They could have drugged-up guards, a bad lock, an unguarded fire escape—until we look, we can’t say what kind of risk is involved and whether or not it’s worth it.”
Mundo drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Fine. You can check it out, but don’t go in until we have a chance to talk about this again.” He stood and looked around the table, his gaze settling on May. “Would you like to stay here, or wou
ld you prefer an escort back to your place?”
May gave a weak smile. “I’d rather move my whole operation here. But that would make people suspicious and besides, I seem to be in a good spot to hear things. It would be best if I went back. Alone.”
“That’s stupid,” Alex said. “Let me send someone with you. One of the girls, so it’ll look like you were out delivering jewelry.”
“I’ll go,” Cassie offered.
Alex raised his eyebrows. “You’re not a trained fighter.”
“I can handle a gun and pepper spray.”
“I’ll send Julilla. If you want to tag along and Mundo has no objection, that’s your lookout.”
Mundo shrugged. “If you’re caught up on your chores, it’s all the same to me.” He stretched like a lazy cat, then gave a nod to Kayleen, who was still sprawled in a chair, looking bored. “Let’s go in the other room, babe. I’ve got an assignment for you.”
Without a word, Kayleen stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse. As she headed toward the back room, Mundo dismissed the rest of the group and followed her.
* * *
Cassie guided May down one of the hallways that led to an emergency exit. Although the halls were supposed to be kept clear, the beam of her flashlight played over mounds of trash, and the reek of urine was omnipresent. Doc said people could become used to any smell, but at times like this she was skeptical.
She was glad to reach the exit, where she tapped on the door and waited. After a moment there was an answering tap on the other side and she shoved the door open and stepped into the sunshine with May at her heels.
“Took you long enough,” said Julilla. She hardly looked herself, dressed in ordinary civilian clothes instead of guard fatigues, and wearing three of May’s plastic-shard necklaces. “Don’t you dare say I look good.”
“Okay.” Cassie stifled a smile and adjusted her bracelets. Dressing like fanatical customers of May’s enterprise was fun, but she worried it might not be practical. She patted the colorful, glass-spangled purse slung over her shoulder and felt the reassuring bulge of her can of bear repellent. She hoped her bracelets wouldn’t snag on something if she had to grab it quickly.