by Ann Pino
“We’re finally getting somewhere,” Doc said.
May murmured agreement.
Cassie took their answer as a request that food be brought in. “Where are the twins?”
May gestured toward the window.
Cassie made out two dark forms intertwined on the sofa. “Are they asleep or having sex again?”
“Done with sex,” Doc said in disgust. “Now they’re sleeping it off.”
“Good show, though,” said one of the guards. “Even if they did leave most of their clothes on.”
“Very distracting,” May said, with a level of absorption in her work that suggested she wasn’t distracted by much. “Look here.” She tapped the screen and Doc leaned closer. “Eighty-two percent of the population sample demonstrated a causal relation between increased rgHGH levels and reduced expression of the telomeres in the presence of the viral agent.” She sat back with a pleased smile. “That’s one hell of a correlation.”
Doc agreed. “But would the results scale to a larger sample size? Or to human subjects?”
“That’s the million dollar question. Or million mitochondria. Take your pick.”
“But what does it all mean?” Cassie said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you think we’re saying human growth hormone might slow down the Telo, you’re right,” May said.
Cassie considered the implications. “So if we could get our hands on some growth hormone, we might not get Telo?”
“Not exactly,” Doc said. “You’re already infected. You’d live longer than you would’ve otherwise, though.”
“How much longer?”
“Hard to say. Research indicates a few extra weeks with rats, months with rabbits. In humans, it could be a year or two, if the effect is similar.”
“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to, if you’re still going to die before you’re halfway through your twenties. I mean, you still have to make the stuff, right?”
May shook her head. “It’s no longer possible. Can’t get the items one needs and no electricity to run the equipment.”
Cassie slumped into a chair. “Well, I guess that’s it then, right? Totally useless.”
“Not totally,” Doc said. “It just means one would have to acquire the real thing instead of making it in a lab.”
“And how does one do that?”
With a cynical lift of an eyebrow, May said, “You harvest it. From the dead, before they start to rot.”
Suddenly the mission of the Obits became clear. “And if there are no newly dead…” She couldn’t say the words.
May finished for her. “You make your own.”
EXCERPT FROM CASSIE’S JOURNAL:
It looks like we have our answer. The twins were disappointed that none of the research offered eternal life, but they seemed even more upset that the Obits’ kidnappings might be to procure growth hormone from living children. The twins like to brag that they don’t care about anyone but each other, but it looks like they have their weak points like anyone else.
For her part, May was fascinated by the results of the research. I could tell by the excitement in her voice and the way she kept scrolling through computer files, even though she says she won’t do any more for us. She’s lying. She’s as hooked as any of us.
Now the question is who the Obits are and whether they’re working for themselves or for someone else. As for the Pharms, do they know what it is they’re after? We think not, otherwise they wouldn’t be handing over children to the Obits. Chances are they’ll find out soon enough, though. When they do, none of us will be safe.
I tried to explain some of this to Leila tonight, but she wasn’t interested once she learned there was nothing in the research to indicate we could get our normal lifespan back. She had other news. Apparently Paul has gone over to the Christian Soldiers. According to David, Galahad is trying to get him to come back, but isn’t having much luck.
I think Paul would be happier with the Christian Soldiers. They seem like his type, and maybe he can find himself a new girl to be in love with—one who reads the Bible but doesn’t want to live by any of the things it says about patience and forgiveness.
Maybe this is why Galahad has been so strange with me. I know I’d be worried if someone I cared about had defected to a cult.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cassie examined the gray watery substance that was supposed to be breakfast.
“Take it or leave it,” Eleven said.
She accepted a bowl and waited while Leila got hers. As they sought a quiet banquette by the window, she thought back to the breakfast Sandra gave her the morning she went to the twins’ loft with Julilla. Dealing with poor rations had been bad before, but knowing she could be having eggs or a Twinkie was almost unbearable. She stirred the contents of her bowl and wondered if the rumbling of her stomach deserved such an insult. She had just decided to have a taste when a shadow blocked the light.
“This seat taken?” David slid onto the banquette next to Leila without waiting for an answer.
Galahad met Cassie’s eyes with an uncertain smile.
Cassie scooted over to make room but affected indifference.
“Late forage today?” Leila asked.
David shook his head. “Alex needed the shuttle. Something about this Pharm-Obit conspiracy you people are so excited about.”
“Why didn’t you go with the Thespians like the other time?” Leila swirled the small bit of cereal in her bowl. “The food they’re serving us is crap.”
“I was game. It’s this guy who said no.” David waved a hand in Galahad’s direction. “He says the Thespians are ‘too dramatic’ and he’s ‘not in the mood.’”
Galahad pushed his untouched bowl away. “I’m not up for anyone’s theatrics today. Doesn’t mean you can’t go.”
“Nah. This way I have an excuse to spend the day lying around doing nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound very productive,” Cassie said.
David sat a little straighter. “Does every day have to be productive? You’re as bad as Sir Galahad, here.” He leaned across the table. “I’m more productive in a single day of risking my ass on the streets than half the brats around here are in an entire month. We’ve got a whole group of parasites living off the supplies I steal, and what do they ever do for me? Or for anyone else? They spend all day whining about the goddamn Telo and trying to avoid doing chores or even getting so much as a basic education.” He sat back. “I’ve earned a day of rest.”
“Of course you have,” Galahad said. “We all work hard to contribute.”
“I don’t,” Leila said brightly. “I’m lazy.” She gave David a sidelong glance.
“You weren’t when you were with me last night,” he told her.
Before Cassie could steer the conversation in a new direction, Julilla strode up to their table looking grim. “Zach is sick. Looks like Telo.”
The little group exchanged glances. Zach was only seventeen, which was young for a Telo victim, but they had seen it happen before.
“I’ve been asked to take over his duties for the day, but that means someone has to take a package to May. Sid made some kind of generator thing so she can run her science equipment.” Julilla met Cassie’s eyes. “I was wondering if you could deliver it for me.”
Before she could answer, Galahad butted in. “No way. It’s too dangerous for a girl out there alone.”
“If we send a guy, the Pharms will be on to us for sure. We have to send a girl, unless you want to put on a dress and make like you’re in the market for charm bracelets.”
“I’ll go.” Cassie said, ignoring Galahad’s stare. “Where’s the package and when do I need to take it?”
“Sid has it in his storeroom. The sooner you can leave, the better.”
Cassie made to get up, but Galahad grabbed her arm. “I’ll go with you.”
“We’ll all go,” Leila said. “May has some new designs I want to check out.” She flas
hed David an excited smile. “We can go to the park afterwards. It’ll be fun.”
David scowled in disgust. “You’re crazy if you think I’m spending my day looking at a bunch of girly doo-dads and hanging out in a park like a pre-Telo tourist. I said it was going to be a day of rest and that’s what it’ll be.”
“Please?” Leila put her hand on his.
“No. You go and have a good time.” He stood up. “I’m going back to bed since breakfast sucks and lunch will probably be no better. Join me when you get back. I’ll be saving you a spot.”
To everyone’s surprise, David gave her a kiss before walking away.
“Well?” Julilla said. “Is it decided? We’re wasting time.”
* * *
The streets were unusually empty other than for some Pharm vendors, a few teens sleeping off a night of drinking, and a knot of children gathered around a wild-haired pre-teen making an impassioned speech about the need to “unify and organize.”
They found the jewelry store neat and in order, with May idly arranging earrings in a display case. She smiled at the little group and her gaze fell on the bulging canvas bag slung over Cassie’s shoulder. “Always nice to see some friendly faces.”
Before Cassie could explain their errand, Leila rushed the display case and pressed her nose against the glass. “Is this the new series? They’re beautiful.”
Cassie peered over her shoulder. The earrings, charms and pendants were made of oddly-shaped bits of mirror, their edges warped by acid and darkened with smoke. Each was etched in the center with a design or picture, some black and delicate like webs, others bold and colorful with reds, blues and greens. Lying on their bed of black velvet, they sparkled like stars in the pale glow of one of May’s chemical light orbs.
“This series is pretty special,” May said. “I’ve been working on it for a long time but didn’t want to put anything out until I had enough that if girls told their friends, there would be some for them, too.”
“That’s good sales strategy,” Galahad said. “But have you thought about doing actual marketing? You know, like maybe loan pieces to girls who’ll show them off to other girls who will come and buy?”
May considered. “That might not be a bad idea. I’ll need to think about it.” Her attention returned to Cassie’s bag, her eyes bright with expectation. “Is that my generator?”
Cassie set the bag on the counter and took out the converted automobile alternator. While May read Sid’s instructions, Cassie examined the gadget, which had some extra modifications, including an attachment that Cassie couldn’t immediately see the use of.
“To hook it up to a bicycle or cranking device,” May said. “All on its own, something like this is fine for running a fan or charging some batteries, but my centrifuge and autoclave need a steady source of power while they’re in use.”
Cassie nodded. “He also says whenever you can get him some ammonia, he’ll make you a small refrigerator. He found some plans and says they’re pretty simple.”
“The forage team has been told to keep an eye out for ammonia, too,” said Galahad from where he was holding the display case door so Leila could try on a bracelet. “If we find some before you do, we’ll let you know.”
“Looks like I’ll have a proper lab in no time,” May said. “I swore I wasn’t going to get back into science. Funny how things change.”
“As long as things change for the good,” Galahad said. “We have to keep going forward.”
“Until we die,” Leila said. She slipped a pair of earrings into her ears and peered in a mirror.
“I don’t know how good a change this is going to be,” May said. “I want to die with a paintbrush in my hand, not a test tube.”
“Cassie?” Galahad turned to her. “Am I the only optimist in a room full of cynical females?”
The notion that he counted on her to keep up a brave front inspired Cassie to speak more confidently than she might have. “Everybody dies. What matters is how we live in the meantime.”
* * *
May paid for her generator in aspirin and menthol which she siphoned from what she had made for the Pharms. Cassie and Galahad put the items into packs and slipped them under their clothes to keep them safe from any Pharms who might be about. To further disguise the reason for their visit, May gave them some of her failed jewelry creations, which Cassie thought looked perfectly fine, and she let Leila have a pair of earrings from the new series.
On the way back to the hotel Cassie exchanged one of the plastic necklaces for skewers of meat from a sidewalk stand. She and Galahad ate ravenously, too hungry to care where the meat might have come from, but Leila demurred claiming she didn’t have an appetite.
Cassie couldn’t bother to be annoyed by Leila’s prissiness. It was a sunny day, the streets were quiet, and she had Galahad by her side. Her thoughts drifted to the time he had nearly undressed her in the garden. She thought, too, of the casual way the twins fondled each other, making love without a care for who might see. Although their way could never be her way, she wished she had just a little of their confidence. If Galahad acted like an ordinary person it would be a lot easier. She was about to reach for his hand and to hell with if she was wrong, when he waved for both girls to stop. He squinted into the distance and reached for the gun at his hip.
“What is it?” Cassie said, fumbling for her pepper spray.
“This isn’t their turf.”
“Who?” Cassie made out a group in red and white in the distance.
“Christian Soldiers.” He stole a glance at Leila, who was unarmed. “We better detour.”
Leila protested, but Galahad was firm. A block later, a group of children ran past, fleeing the main road.
“Not good.” Galahad had just urged the girls to turn around when the streets erupted in a chaos of running, shouting, gunshots, and breaking glass. He pulled Cassie close and looked around wildly. “There.” He pointed with his gun. “We’ll hide in that restaurant.”
They made a dash for it and were almost across the street when a pack of children and yapping dogs cut them off. Someone fired a gun, and one of the children collapsed, bleeding from an ugly wound in his stomach.
Galahad tugged on Cassie’s arm. “Hurry.”
Cassie started to go, but Leila froze, staring at the injured child. “We should bring the kid.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Cassie said. “He’ll die, anyway.” She grabbed for her as Galahad pulled in the other direction. “Please.”
Still Leila hesitated. “Maybe—”
“Sinners!”
Leila gasped and ducked behind Galahad as a pack of Christian Soldiers came into view. One of their party, his shaved head marking him as a neophyte, rushed forward and lunged at Galahad. “Let me at the whore!”
While Galahad spoke in soothing tones and Paul screeched about sinners, Cassie tried to pull Leila away, only to find her rooted to the spot with the look of a frightened rabbit. Just when she saw a clear path of escape, the rest of Christian Soldiers closed in with clubs in their hands and murder in their eyes. Paul broke away from Galahad and pointed at Leila. “This is the whore I told you about.”
In the chaos that followed, Cassie heard Galahad’s gun go off. She got one Christian Soldier in the face with her pepper spray, but someone grabbed her by the hair and made her drop the canister. At her feet, clubs rained down on Leila, and in the mayhem someone yelled that Cassie, too, was a whore who deserved to die. Galahad tried to make his way toward her, but two Christian Soldiers blocked his way and knocked the gun out of his hand with their clubs. Cassie was struggling against the one holding her hair, kicking at anyone who came near, when she was suddenly turned loose and fell to the ground. She rolled away from a foot aimed at her face as another of her attackers collapsed, blood spreading across his white tunic.
“It’s the devil and his minion!” someone shouted.
Cassie looked up to see Thing One on the restaurant balcony, aiming a rifle into the
mob. Crouched at his feet, Thing Two was reloading. With their black clothes, grayed-out faces and charcoaled eyes, they looked like something escaped from hell.
Someone grabbed her under the arms. Cassie struggled and kicked until Galahad’s voice in her ear stopped her. “They’re covering us.”
“But Leila—”
Galahad jerked her arm so hard she had to follow or have it torn from the socket. With a staccato of gunfire ringing in their ears, they ducked into a side street, then an alleyway, then into an open door and the filthy recesses of an abandoned building that reeked of unremoved Telo victims.
Galahad wouldn’t let her stop. He pulled Cassie up stairs, down hallways, and into and out of rooms of rotting bodies. Finally she could go no farther. She wrenched her hand from his and sank to the floor beside a metal office desk where a desiccated form still lay slumped across a keyboard. “They’re not coming.” Her mind flashed back to the bloody mess on the street that couldn’t possibly be her friend. “No more!” She heard herself screaming, but it was as if it was some other girl was doing it. In her mind, she was calm, but when Galahad crouched beside her and took her in his arms, she could only cry.
* * *
They stayed in the building until nearly nightfall, then slipped out at dusk and made their way to the theater, which was nearest safe place Galahad could think of. The Thespians were helpful in their strange way, arranging a cot for Cassie to rest on and quoting Shakespeare. More helpful was the shot of vodka Elissa’s page brought on a silver tray. It dulled her racing mind while she waited for Galahad to explain to Elissa and her guard commander what had happened. It also took the edge off her desire to rage at the made-up boy who stood at the foot of her cot declaiming from the tragedies:
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
It crossed her mind to ask the fool how he would like being beaten to death in the street, but instead she accepted another shot of vodka and sank into the luxury of not having to care about anything for a little while.