Glistening Haven: A Shape Shifting Dystopian Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  The Outpost was just beyond the inner gates of New Haven 56. While the city was the perfect small town from a 1950s postcard, the Outpost was clinical and functional. There were several brick rectangle buildings with multiple floors in the complex. Each one had its purpose and Travis headed toward the largest. His office was on the second level and as he trudged up the steps, he was ready to get to work.

  At the steel door, he swiped his badge to unlock it and headed inside. A receptionist in a simple navy uniform gave him a distracted glance as she typed at her computer terminal. Travis walked past her down a narrow hallway and swiped his badge at another steel door. It gave him access to the surveillance and glistening intelligence operations. Those rooms were lined with flat panel screens that projected images from every corner of the town. Travis joined two officers who sat, unblinking, as they studied the screens.

  “Anything?”

  “Everything’s quiet today, chief.” Thompson was a good officer who never let Travis down, which was why he saw to it that the man followed him from Outpost to Outpost.

  Travis nodded. “Keep up the good work,” he grunted, and continued on his way. The room across the hall was Intelligence. Several officers listened to phone calls and private conversations picked up on the grid. While everything was recorded, only certain words would trigger red flags.

  His interest piqued, he pulled open the door to. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but he waited for the officer to take his headset off. “Chief, we picked up Lawrence Stark’s name being used twice in the same home. Once in the kitchen, once on the phone.”

  “Name?” Travis asked.

  Marc glanced down at his screen. “Jeff and Susan Monroe.”

  “Put a tail on them.” Travis sipped his coffee and continued on. The door behind him latched with a metallic boom.

  His office was small, with no windows and barely enough space for his desk and computer station. Travis didn’t mind much. He spent few hours in there, and more out with his men or patrolling the town. His chair was comfortable, at least, and as he stretched in it and sipped the remainder of his coffee.

  When the cup was empty, he chucked it across the room. It landed softly into the wire wastepaper basket. Travis grinned. If the world had been different, maybe he would have gone on to be an NBA star. Oh, well. The world, for all its changes, still wasn’t a bad place to be. Travis kind of enjoyed it and truth be told, didn’t mind the glistenings half as much as he pretended otherwise.

  Travis was outside in the docking bays inspecting food deliveries when his walkie-talkie crackled. “Go, Nancy.”

  “Ms. Seers and her men are here.”

  He cursed under his breath. “They weren’t due for another O-two-hundred hours.”

  “I know, Chief.” Nancy’s voice was strained. “But they showed up early and they have papers signed by the justice.”

  “Okay, okay,” Travis glanced at his watch. If they timed this wrong… “I’ll be there. Send Walt down here to finish the inspections.”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  “Over and out.” Travis sighed and handed his clipboard to the truck driver. “You’re cleared. Drive on through to the gates toward the city.”

  The driver snorted. “Good luck.”

  “I’m gonna need it,” Travis muttered.

  ****

  The waiting area for visitors in the Outpost was pleasant, but void of windows and ambiance. Travis kept it that way for a reason. If you made people too comfortable, they’d want to stay, and the type of people who visited the New Haven police weren’t the type he wanted to hang out with all day. Most days he wished they’d just let him get back to his damn job.

  Rebecca wasn’t any ugly woman. Quite the contrary. The skirt she wore hugged her shapely hips and her hair was soft, parted to the side. Her face was pleasant, almost always smiling, and if the circumstances of their relationship were different…well, he’d have a lot to confess to his wife. She stood, along with two men in suits, as he reached for a handshake.

  The visitor pass pinned to her label jutted left and right as she strolled over. “Chief Reynolds, I hope we didn’t come at a bad time.”

  “Of course not.” Both of them were lying, but there was no harm in a few pleasantries. “I trust you had a good journey this time.”

  “Tip top,” Rebecca admitted. “We have a list of glistenings we’d like to visit on this trip. Shouldn’t take more than half a day, if your escorts would be so kind.”

  The man to the left, the one who was always shifty and studying Travis as if he didn’t approve of the chief, handed him a list of names. Travis studied it. “Hmpf. I’ll see to it, if you’ll wait here.”

  Her face twitched. “So soon? Usually you make us wait hours and act like bringing us sandwiches breaks some unconstitutional law.”

  “Just trying to cooperate.”

  “What would make this time so different?” Travis waved his hand.

  Rebecca smiled smugly. “Ahh, the Justice Department talked to you, didn’t they? Maybe finally threatened to take away your badge if you didn’t cooperate with the court’s decisions.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Must feel real good, to be taken down a few notches.”

  Travis wagged his finger at her. “Now, you wait here, Rebecca. I do a good job of running this police force. All the damn glistenings, they live a better life in here than most Americans do out there. You know that. I just need to make sure everything is orderly.”

  Rebecca expelled a gasp. “I don’t know that for a fact, do I? Some barely have enough food to make it from month to month and most rarely get any say in what type of jobs they have. There is no room for growth. Their rights—”

  “—were stripped decades ago by your precious justice system. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame me. I just enforce what they tell me to.”

  Her cheeks reddened and Travis fed off it. Rebecca continued, “I, and the rest of the Glistening Rights and Protection Commission, am working on changing that. If I see that one of them is mistreated under your watch, I’ll make sure the Senate and Congress hear about this.”

  “They’re not convened right now.”

  “I’ll make them,” Rebecca said hotly, her nose flaring.

  Travis raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Look, it’s probably good that a lady like you is around to make sure the police don’t take liberties, but you’re not going to change anything. Americans will never be in favor of glistenings being reintroduced into society. This is the best answer we’ve got. The alternative is to just exterminate them like the pests they are.”

  His words were harsh, harsher than he meant. Travis didn’t usually speak about the glistenings that way, but definitely felt there was truth in his words. It made him uncomfortable as he tried to swallow it back as he read the disgust on Rebecca’s face.

  “I’ll get you an escort.” Travis said and left the waiting room. He glanced at the list once the door closed behind him. One of the last names on the list was familiar, from that morning. Why did Rebecca want to meet with Jake Monroe?

  Travis stopped an officer in the hall. “See if you can pull any tapes or security information on a Jake Monroe. Then, escort Rebecca and her staff on her interviews and inspection.”

  “Yes, Chief.” The officer nodded. “Sir, patrol is already en route with an upriser.”

  They really were becoming more frequent, weren’t they? Travis sighed. Just what he needed, more headaches. “Keep Rebecca away from the conditioning barracks, no matter what happens.”

  Chapter Four Wendy Reynolds

  New Haven High

  100 School Way

  All New Haven children went to school on the same sprawling campus. Children under thirteen went to the west wing, while the east wing was designed to look like a standard small-town high school. It had a courtyard, picnic tables, trees and a bike rack for those who didn’t have bus passes. Children of more wealthy families could get their driver’s licenses at age
sixteen, and for these kids, there were limited parking spaces in the back.

  The yellow school bus, driven by the glistening, Harvey Turntable, dropped them at the front door. The teenagers toward the front were dressed as if in a Leave It to Beaver episode. The girls wore pearl earrings and the boys had perfectly coiffed hair. They smiled at each other, using words like swell, and words bubbled out of them.

  Toward the back, the human kids dressed like kids elsewhere in the United States, in crumbled shirts, spiked hair and the occasional pink headband. Wendy listened to music on her iPod so she didn’t have to socialize. As she stepped off the bus with the other New Haven police kids, she cradled her books in front of her stomach.

  Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she looked for her friends, Marsha and Steven. They spent their early childhood together in New Haven 52 until their parents were transferred together to the newest colony, New Haven 56. Wendy didn’t much mind growing up with the glistenings. In fact, most days she didn’t really understand why they were different than she was. They acted a little weird, like people in the television shows she always watched, but other than that, they were nice.

  Finally she saw her friends and gave them a wave. Her spirits lifted when she saw them hustling toward her and they met over by the stairs that led to the school. “Hey, guys.”

  Steve nodded, but was too cool to remove his shades. Wendy wasn’t sure where he was looking, but it definitely wasn’t at her. His hair was a dark tousled black. He always wore a black jacket and a cocked fedora on his head sat to the side. “You guys do the homework for science class?”

  Marsha was a pretty blonde whose tight shirts and miniskirts made her stand out against the parade of Donna Reed poodle skirts. She gave Wendy a knowing look. “Who has time to do homework, right? We’re graduating in less than a month! Soon we’ll be out of glistening-ville and we can go anywhere we want! I’m so going to New York to be a fashion designer!”

  Steve leaned back against the rail, a toothpick twirling in his mouth. “I think it actually might be harder than that, darlin’. But more power to you, I say. I’m heading to the coast to check out some babes. I can’t wait to see what the real world is like. I hate being stuck in this damn prison.”

  Wendy shook her head at them. “I think you might not graduate if you don’t do the homework.”

  “Please!” Marsha exasperated. “They can’t make me repeat this late in the game. Besides, my dad works in surveillance. If they did that to me, I’m sure he’d find something nasty on them and then they’d be sorry.”

  Wendy’s jaw dropped. “Marsha, your dad can’t abuse his power like that.”

  “It’s not abusing.” Marsha rolled her eyes.

  “It’s in the job description.” Steve laughed at his own joke. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t be so uptight all the time. I know, I know, you’re the chief of police’s daughter.” He flipped his shades down to make eye contact so that when he rolled his eyes, Wendy could see it.

  Angry, Wendy glanced away. “Sometimes, Steve, you make me wonder why I hang out with you at all. I guess I just feel like I should since I’ve known you my entire life.”

  “We’re stuck together,” he agreed. “The three of us, but the sentence is about to be pardoned. In just a few short months we’ll be able to pretend this never happened.”

  Marsha squealed with delight, hugging her books close to her chest. “I can’t wait! Finally be able to go shopping at some real stores and just not take what they send us.”

  “You do already, baby,” Steve said, then cast a glance at Wendy. “You on the other hand look to be about vying for the Frump of the Year award.”

  “Steven!” Marsha narrowed her eyes at him and walloped him on the back of the head.

  Wendy’s shoulders hunched. He always had a way of making her feel inadequate and self-conscious. With friends like him…

  “Be nice, or I’ll look the other way when the glistenings skin you alive,” Marsha snorted. Wendy’s heart raced and when her eyes met Marsha’s her friend’s eyes softened.

  “It’s all right. We all know he was born without a nice bone in his body. See you in class.”

  “See you later?”

  Her stomach rolled. “Later.” Wendy skipped up the steps, mingled in with the glistenings, and stepped into the hollowly lit hallways. She headed toward her locker and tried to ignore all of the looks that the others gave her, even the teachers. Being the daughter of Travis Reynolds was like being God; everywhere she went, people parted for her to get out of her way. When she was little, Wendy thought it was great. What a power trip it had been.

  Now it just made her feel like she stuck out, like everyone was watching her. It wasn’t paranoia, Wendy thought as she glanced up at the video cameras in the corners of each hallway. People truly were watching her.

  With a sigh, she stopped at her locker to get a book. When she slammed the door, Jake Monroe was there.

  Wendy’s heart skipped a beat as she looked into his eyes. They were haunted, trying to read her. She wanted to ask him to, but she couldn’t. Not out loud. If anyone were to suspect what they were doing, she’d be expelled. And for Jake, it would probably be worse. “Hey,” she said softly, trying to control the tremor in her voice.

  His “hey” was more nonchalant, almost casual. She wondered how he managed to always seem so aloof and in control. Wasn’t he nervous? Didn’t he care? Course, he wasn’t the one that had to carry it around, pretend everything was normal. Wendy was the one who had to wonder if her parents noticed, and she was running out of ways to hide it. “I know yesterday you had to go to the nurse, so I thought you might want to copy my notes.”

  “Sure, that’s nice of you.”

  For a moment, Jake stood closer to her and the smell of his cologne hit her. It wasn’t potent; it was light and airy, and reminded her of those nights in the field where no cameras could reach. He held out his notebook and Wendy took it, adding it to her stack.

  “I’ll give it back to you before third period.” She smiled.

  Jake did too, backing up a step. Their eyes met and her heart felt as if it were plummeting to her toes before racing back up. “Bye,” he said quietly before he turned around and headed toward his group of friends, all on the football team and all wearing the same jacket.

  “Bye,” Wendy whispered, watching him and thought he was different than the rest. There was a seriousness, an intelligence there that wasn’t in the others. That’s why he was special, that was why she liked him. When he was around, Wendy felt calm and she saw the effect he had on others.

  She excused herself to the bathroom. Along the vanity stalls, several girls primped their perfect hairdos and reapplied their lipstick. They giggled loudly, talking with grand hand gestures about boys, bake sales, and their families. Wendy snuck past them, hoping to avoid being recognized, and rushed into one of the stalls. She placed her books down on the back of the toilet and flipped open Jake’s notebook.

  Each stroke was soft and elegant, as if prepared by an expert calligrapher, which was why her heart was soothed even as she read his note. To Wendy it felt as if he were there and folding her into his warm embrace.

  Oakland field tonight at 8:45pm. Pack a bag. Xxoo

  She smiled at the simple representation of kisses and hugs, but she couldn’t let the note be found by anyone. Wendy flushed the toilet to mask the sound of her ripping the paper, then wrapped the pieces in toilet paper and flushed them down again. Then checked to make sure that no stray bits ended up on the floor.

  As she did, Wendy was overcome with a wave of nerves and nausea. Bending over her, she gripped the toilet as her mouth opened. The loud buzz of the bell rang through the bathroom and was followed with the sounds of girls zipping up their makeup kits. The smell of hairspray wafted through the stall, worsening her nausea. The bell meant it was nine, which also meant her bout of sickness was right on time. As it had been for the last seven months.

  Wendy groaned and her body tempe
rature jumped as a spasm contracted in her stomach. It rolled up her body, clenching and releasing her throat, and a stream of vomit spilled from her mouth. She spat, tears streaming down her face as her body wretched like on an out-of-control rollercoaster.

  Her left hand clutched at her stomach as the heaving subsided. It wasn’t flat against her sweater. Her belly was round.

  She tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, but it was getting harder now she was in her third trimester.

  She was still sick as a dog. Her breasts ached and her lower back was in constant pain from the growing fetus. Most days, it took a constant effort not to waddle side to side. Lucky for her, her stomach wasn’t that big yet, but it would be soon. In two months, she would have a baby.

  At first it sounded so foreign, so horrible, but now Wendy steeled herself to the fact that was going to be a mother to a glistening. How had it happened? Well, she knew how, but it wasn’t possible. She was perfectly human, a normal teenage girl, and the only boy she had ever been with was a glistening. All the stories she heard made it sound impossible. Glistenings couldn’t mate with humans. They weren’t human anymore.

  Wendy thought at first it would be like one of those TV movies from back in the old days when they still made movies. She, the teenage girl, would tell her boyfriend—for lack of a better word—that she was pregnant. He would suddenly turn harsh, angry, and look at her with cold eyes and say, well it can’t be mine. Wendy probably even would have understood, given the circumstances, but Jake didn’t do that.

  Part of her wished that he did.

  Was there some part of her that wasn’t normal? Was she a freak? How could she be pregnant with a glistening? Wendy’s eyes filled with tears as she thought about her mother finding out.

  Her mother was always going on about how horrible their life was, how sorry she was that Wendy had to go to school with the glistenings. If Alice found out, Wendy was sure they’d just get rid of her, push her out of New Haven for good. Even worse, maybe they’d make her abort it. Maybe that’s what should have happened, maybe that would have been best for her life. But for some reason Wendy didn’t want to.