“Celeste had no right to do that.”
Claire frowned. “Honey, she saved you. Xavi may be a sympathizer, but he’s still tied to the Republic. There’s no happy ending for you there. And if, he was so wiling to leave you for another girl, is he worth getting upset over?”
I shook my head. It hurt to know she was right. Xavi broke me so easily, and there was nothing he could do or say that could right that. “How do you know he’s a sympathizer?”
“He found us about two weeks ago. Gave us legit intel. He’s a Split-Cell now.”
“Split-Cell?”
“It means a traitor who we aren’t sure we can trust yet. After all, he’s responsible for all those deaths last night. It was his intel that set the whole raid into motion.”
I nodded. “But, people still taught Xavi things. Why teach them? If you know they’re spies, why help them?”
“I thought you were a genius girl. Try to think that one out.”
I smiled. It sounded like something Celeste would say. I thought for a minute— chewed on it all. “You teach them so they start to see you as people.”
“That’s one reason. It’s harder for them to murder us when they begin to see us as human rather than abominations. They eat with us. They survive with us. Sometimes, they make love to us. It makes them start to question their own beliefs and loyalties. Even if they return to the Republic, those questions are always there. What is right versus what is law? These questions eventually trickle down and influence change… Us Vagabonds understand generational patience too.”
Chapter Twenty One
I’d always imagined what the train stations looked like when people rode the trains all the time. The space in the station I entered was so vast that it was hard to imagine it ever being full of people.
It was the right time to sneak in. It was slightly after lunch, when it was just empty enough to not have to wait in long lines for the vid-screens, but full enough to go somewhat unnoticed. I was terrified when a soldier sauntered up. I couldn’t see his face through the black face guard, and it reminded me of how much I hated the Militia’s uniform. With hidden faces, I never knew who I was speaking to, and I couldn’t read the expressions or gauge reactions. It made it difficult to lie.
My mind raced. We were still close to where the raid had taken place. What if he was one of the same soldiers I just escaped from? “Can I help you?” he asked. I knew he’d appraised my dusty jeans and dirty hair. I’d forgotten to clean my nails, and I gripped my fingers into a fist.
“Can you believe it?” I swallowed. “My mother forgot my brother was supposed to come home today. He’s in the 503rd. We were knee deep in yard work when she remembered, and sent me to meet him. You see, it’s a family tradition to never let someone come home to an empty welcome, and we forgot!” The excuse impressed even me, and it explained away the dirt and grime I carried with me.
“His name?”
“Chrysanthos Petras. How do you work this?”
He bent over to look, but luckily I’d already changed the vid-screen back to the home screen. The officer typed in a few things and laughed. “Looks like your mother is as absent minded as mine. The 503rd isn’t scheduled to come in for another week.”
I sighed. “Whew. Sometimes, she can be so out there! Thanks for the help!”
“Anytime,” he said. He leaned against the vid-screen like he wanted to open up a larger conversation. It startled me, but I ignored the gesture. I nodded, acted like a good Colony-girl, and walked away with my heart pounding.
“Ma’am?”
I froze at the question. The soldier had followed me. My heart pounded outside of my chest, and I closed my eyes for a second to center myself before I turned back in his direction.
“Yes?”
He sauntered up, and his black, shiny boots stood firm in front of me. “May I see your identification card?”
I gulped and held my breath. I reached into my pocket as if searching for a wallet. “Oh, no. I must have left it at home in my rush.” I prayed for the lie to work, but my gut dropped all the way to my tippy toes when I saw how he closed the gap between us. “Did I do something wrong? Did I break some law or rule?” I asked innocently with a perfect accent. I opened my eyes wide and pouted out my lips. I probably looked ridiculous.
“Come with me please.”
No.
No.
I couldn’t go with him.
I unhinged my knees and let him lead me by the elbow towards the exit.
“Where are we going?” I asked. “What did I do?” I kept playing the stupid card, but it wasn’t working.
He led me into the alleyway next to the station. No one was there, and a green dumpster overflowed with garbage just behind us. The smell was putrid and tangible. I tried not to breathe through my nose, not that I could breathe anyways with my lungs collapsing in fear.
I was smarter than this. We were too close to the raid, and I should have steered clear of the Colony.
Then the soldier spoke again. “I thought you were dead.”
“Huh?”
He reached up and clicked the button that slid his mask up.
“Agathon!” I gasped.
He grinned. I never thought much about him in the past. He was just some grand-stander, soap-box hogger, know-it-all, know-nothing in class. Now he was a solider. “You made it out?” he asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t read his reaction. Was he happy because he caught a Rebel or was he happy I was alive?
“I’m glad. I worried about you when I heard about it all,” he said. My heart retraced its steps back into my chest— I didn’t even realize it had run away. Agathon was a friend. “I’m glad you’re okay. I knew it couldn’t be true, you know. Anyone who listened to you in class would have laughed at the accusation. Genetic Terrorist. Ha. I’m more of a Genetic Terrorist than you are.”
“Agathon?”
“Surprise!”
“You’re a soldier?”
“Just enlisted two months ago.” He grinned.
“I don’t get it…”
“Neither did I at first. But something felt so wrong about how your parents died without even a trial, and so many other things have been going on in the debates between Petrakis and Tantalos. I wanted to learn the truth of things. I switched career tracts to get to the answers since joining the Militia is the fastest way to classified information. They’re sending me out there, you know. A year to sniff out Terrorists. Will I see you? Will you search for me?”
I broke into a grin. “You’ll learn what a Roll Call is. Call yourself Loud. Ask for a girl named Wind.”
Wind. It was what I planned on becoming. In a split second, I shed off my old names like a snake shed off its skin.
“Loud, huh? I’ll show you loud.” He pulled me into a hug that surprised me. His arms were broad and warm, and he smelled of the 19th. He smelled of home. He squeezed me tight, then let me go. He lowered his mask again and backed away. “Be safe, Niko. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
I watched him slide back out of the alley and disappear into the station, and I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my cheeks. I leaned against a dirty wall in a dirty alley and breathed in the smell of freedom. Sure, it smelled like rotten garbage at the moment, but I was finally seeing how everything connected. I was finally seeing what really mattered.
“But there are genetic possibilities out there too. What if the G.E.G. treated those living out there as a control group, the way we do with every experiment. Compare what occurs naturally to what occurs under their thumbs?” Agathon asked.
Dion scoffed. “That’s bordering on treason.”
“No. It’s just meant to be another way of thinking. Do we have to be so scared of the Terrorists? Are they—“
“That’s enough,” Aeschylus intercepted the conversation and redirected.
But it was a good argument.
Agathon sat back in his desk, put his arms behind his head, and winked at me. Winked at m
e!
I glared back.
I walked back to our rendezvous point with an unexpected grin. The randomness of it all swam in my head. It gave me hope… hope that people were seeing Vagabonds not as a threat, but as a possibility.
Claire showed up ten minutes later, and I explained she had an hour before the Celebrity-transport took off. I left out the story of my near capture and my mini-heart attack, but I explained what train she needed to look for.
“You sure you don’t want to come see Celeste first?”
I shook my head. “She’ll understand. I want to learn to be on my own. I’ve never done it before.”
She laughed. “You’re brave, Niko. I’m proud of you.”
“Want to divide up the things in the pack since you don’t have one?”
“Naw. I have ways to get another,” she said.
My stomach rumbled in ways that compared to thunder. Claire handed over some food items she swiped, and I went to place them in Ono’s food pouch. I wondered if he’d be relaunched back out to the wild? How would he get another pack? Maybe they’d send him out with one to begin with this time? My fingers grazed the bottom of the pouch, and I felt something I wasn’t expecting there. “What’s this?”
The documents.
I forgot about them the day Flea stole Roderigo’s bag.
I sucked in a breath as I pulled them out.
Prometheus remained stamped across the center of the square, and I unfolded the sheets as tenderly as possible.
“Project Prometheus,” I whispered.
Claire frowned. “Prometheus?”
Aeschylus laughed. “Why are these stories important to know? These myths and legends, why are they informative?”
Berenike groaned. “They aren’t.”
“Dion? Do you have a less angst-y answer?” Aeschylus redirected.
“Gods and man. They balance each other out. The Greeks humanized their gods so that they were approachable, and the legends were the boundaries for what was acceptable and civilized. They taught lessons,” Dion replied. The boy was smart. He was second in class behind me.
“Niko?”
“The Nurture versus Nature debate. It’s human nature to act in our own self interests. The gods helped nurture civilization by, as Dion said, setting boundaries on these self interests. These boundaries set us apart from the animals, because when we act in the interests of others over ourselves, we advance in civilization. By helping each other out and taking on rolls in society, we are able to pursue advancement in science and technology.”
“So, why is Prometheus my favorite legend?” Aeschylus asked.
Berenike growled. “Because he got his innards pecked out by an eagle every day?”
“Enlightening, Berenike.” Aeschylus’ words practically had an implied eye roll, and the class giggled. “Try again.”
“Because, according to legend, he gave fire to man and began the quest for knowledge and scientific advancement.” Agathon interjected.
“Anything else? Why would Zeus punish him for this? Knowledge. It’s a good thing, right?” The class grew silent and thought it through. No one was willing to give it a shot. “Nikomedes.”
“It wasn’t about the knowledge. It was about the power knowledge gives. Zeus didn’t think humans could handle the responsibility of knowledge— that they’d try to become gods themselves through the cultivation of this knowledge, and he’d lose his throne. He wanted humans to remember that knowledge had consequences… it may feel freeing at first, but it chains you to something more devastating— the realization that truth is never permanent. This can be very overwhelming to the weak-minded.”
Agathon hooted. “Who’s on a soap-box now, brainiac McGoo.”
The class laughed. “If we are going to insult each other, can we at least make them intelligent insults?” Aeschylus redirected the laughter away from me, and nodded subtly in my direction to tell me I got it right… again.
“Subject 4532. Petrakis, Paramonos. The 12th.” Claire read over me. Her breathing was a steady flow of soft air puffs, and I felt them land on my shoulder. On the first page, there were twenty names across twenty different Colonies. They were in two columns that went side by side.
“Subject 4533. Kostas, Nikomedes. The 18th.” I read. I thought of Ono’s eyes. They took in everything. They figured out everything. “He’s a genetic pain in the ass,” I whispered. We both were.
Ono laughed. “I can be smart too, you know.”
“Really? Could have fooled me.”
“I know things.” He raised his eyebrows. He was happy, and there was a bounce to his step that I didn’t understand.
“Like how to be a pain in the ass?”
“What’s NPTN?” Claire asked. “I hated learning about genetics.” She pointed to the G.E.G.'s logo snuggled in the top corner of the paper.
“Be sure you give this to Celeste,” I said.
“What’s NPTN?” Claire repeated.
“If your mother is looking for proof that the G.E.G. Is overstepping, you have it in your hands right now.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Paramonos and I were partnered.” I pointed to our names side by side. I flipped to the third page and saw the plan in greater detail. “According to this, they went in and modified our NPTN— the gene that is linked to intelligence.” I said it scientifically. I said it coldly. I pretended in my head that I was reading just another lab report, and not something incriminating my genetic line. I was an abomination. I was an atrocity— an unsanctioned experiment. “Everyone on this list? Their offspring may produce children with super-human intelligence.” I thought of my mice. I thought of my rabbits. I thought of all my experiments that led to generational progress.
“How do you know this?”
I laughed. It was a ridiculous laugh. “That son of a bitch tried to tell me!”
“Niko?”
Aeschylus. He tried to tell me!
Aeschylus whooped. “You have a true gift, Nikomedes.”
The simulator bled in colors and letters and showed the link to transplant eye-sight abilities between animals and humans.
“What made you think on it?”
“My eyes, actually. They’ve been getting tired staring at this screen half a day.” I laughed.
“It had nothing to do with that field excursion to the zoology lab last week?”
“Caught me. I never knew lions could see five-times farther than us. It made me jealous.”
Aeschylus sighed, and pawed at the screen to zoom into it. “Do you really think it’s possible?”
“Possible? Yes. Responsible? No.”
“What if I told you…” He stopped himself.
“Told me what?”
He shook his head. “There’s rumors, you know. That they’ve already begun experiments. Remember that article on NPTN we co-authored? Well, there’s rumors that even before we solidified the discovery of the manipulation, they’d practiced it already.”
“That’s insane!” I said. “They wouldn’t modify things that drastically. Especially without proof that it’d work! What would that do? Destroy an entire genetic line?”
“Think on it for a second. Why would enhancing intelligence before any other trait be desirable?”
I thought on it. I stared at the letters that blurred on the screen before I settled on a hypothesis to present. “Intelligence is the first thing that leads to knowledge. If those rumors are true, then the people they’ve experimented on could lead to more discoveries in genetic modification and scientific advancement. It’ll speed up the process and amplify the chances that we’ll be able to add more beneficial traits sooner than later.”
“Interesting assumption, my brilliant girl.”
Chapter Twenty Two
The rain started to pour down in gloopy drops when Claire and I parted ways. They landed heavy in my hair and soaked into my clothes. She disappeared into the freight yard, and I began my journey out of the Colony. I planned
on hopping a freight on the move. I needed to walk a few things out of my system. I needed movement to clear my head.
After a while, it was time. The train was quick to come and slow to leave. It inched along like a lazy snail, but I was getting on it just the same. I ran with the cars. I focused on my grip so it wouldn’t slip on the wet metal, and threw myself into the open door of the car. It was empty and all mine.
For a while, I sat with my feet dangling out of the car. It was one of the few times I was thankful for my stubby legs. They hung well above the ground as I sat. It wasn’t a harsh rain, and droplets whipped against me. I sucked on the hose of my water bladder. The lukewarm hot was not as refreshing as I needed it to be, and my stomach rumbled angrily. Despite it all, I felt brave.
I hoped Ono was okay. I hoped that whatever they had in store for him was kind. Would they ever partner him? Would he come back out here to look for me? How could he know that whatever we created together would be an abomination? How could he know that we, ourselves, were genetic abominations? Our advantages were not natural, and the Republic had intended to use us for different purposes. He was a Military Prodigy. I was a Genetic Genius. I wished I’d looked at the other Colonies and figured out the industries they were popular for before handing the documents over to Claire. I wondered how the Republic nurtured each person to be geniuses in specific fields to benefit Humanity. Aeschylus used to work for the G.E.G. Was he more than what he seemed? Was he sent to “nurture” my talents personally?
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