by Tina Chan
Kristi blinked the sleepiness out of her eyes and pulled the blanket over her. The sunlight still seeped through though, rendering her efforts to sleep in futile. She rolled onto her side and stared at the alarm clock glowing 9:42; she definitely was not a morning person.
With a groan, she sat up, mumbling, “Any time before ten in the morning is too early.” She still hadn’t figured out how she survived school on a weekly basis.
Kristi slid down the banister of the spiral staircase, something she hadn’t done in a while. She hopped down at the base of the stairs, landing on the balls of her feet. The house seemed quiet—too quiet.
“Is everyone still sleeping?” Kristi wandered into the empty kitchen. “And I thought I was a late sleeper,” Kristi said to herself. “Maria and Don are probably sleeping in if they stayed up late doing work. But Jaiden should be up already; he’s always awake before I am.”
Kristi always referred to her adoptive parents as Maria and Don, never Mom and Dad; it wasn’t that she purposely refused to call them Mom and Dad—it was just that they weren’t very close. Jaiden, her brother, on the other hand, was someone Kristi had known her entire life. She couldn’t imagine not having him as a brother, whether he was related by blood or not.
Kristi’s eyes trailed from the fridge to the kitchen island. “Oh, crap,” she said.
The electro-note left on the smart-glass kitchen counter reminded her that Sunday Gathering was today at nine o’clock. She scanned the note and then mentally smacked herself on the forehead. The note read:
Kristi:
Don, Jaiden and I are volunteering at the Sunday Gathering an hour early. Be sure to arrive on time.
--Maria
PS,
Waffles are in the fridge.
Kristi snatched an energy bar from the cabinets; there was no time for waffles. She cursed Glenn, the Speaker’s son, for damaging her hydro-bike. Walking to the Gathering Hall took at least ten minutes, a feat she could’ve accomplished in five if she had her hydro-bike. Alas, her hydro-bike was sitting at Mechanic Leo’s garage, waiting to be fixed.
Halfway out the front door, Kristi face-palmed herself. She let out a sigh of exasperation and stormed back up the stairs and to her room. She had forgotten her windbreaker and walking in the drizzle without a jacket would be no fun.
She accidentally kicked her wardrobe then yanked up her throbbing foot. She blamed her birth parents for her troubles.
It’s their fault I’m not perfect. Why couldn’t they have me be normal? Why couldn’t I be a Perfect like everyone else? Kristi knew she shouldn’t hold a grudge against them for something they didn’t ask for, but sometimes being the only Accident in town really got on her nerves.
In a world where all citizens were genetically perfect, thanks to science, it’s hard not to feel like a sore thumb when her DNA hadn’t been specialized. There are too many things that could go wrong for a baby born without genetic modifications.
Take me for example, Kristi thought. I have so many allergies it would be pointless to keep track of them. Oak. Dandelion. Birds. Peanuts. Wool.
Kristi never figured out why Don and Maria adopted her in the first place. Who would want an infant with no genetic modification when you could freaking customize your own kids?
Want your kid to be a girl? Gender specification costs only fifty points. Want your daughter to have blonde hair? Twenty-five points. Want to give your daughter green eyes? Another twenty-five points. Of course, basic DNA alterations, such as allergy preventions were free; allergies were a symptom Perfects never had to worry about. The result was a Perfect baby. So why didn’t I get my DNA tweaked? Why am I even alive? Those were two questions that had haunted Kristi for as long as she could remember.
It was unusual enough for an Accident like Kristi to even be born, but for an Accident to survive past infancy was unheard of. All Accidents, save Kristi, mysteriously disappear within weeks of being born. After all, the government couldn’t have a bunch of kids with bad genes running around and corrupting the Perfect kids, could they? So it was indeed very unusual for Kristi to be adopted into a wealthy family.
Her alarm clock blared, announcing it was now 10:00. Stop dawdling, Kristi scolded herself, and get on the move. She threw on her jacket and hurtled out the front door.
The eerily empty streets beckoned her to run faster; she already had two late marks for this month’s Sunday Gathering attendance. Kristi was tempted to skip out on today’s sermon; she loathed listening to yet another boring speech about the boring community in the boring room.
A solar-compressor loomed ahead. She skidded to a stop, pausing just long enough for her to dispose her energy bar wrapper. At last, the Gathering Hall came into view. As quietly as possible, she attempted to sneak into the room unnoticed.
Speaker Quincy was at the podium, towering over the rest of the audience on the raised stage at the head of the Gathering Hall. He droned on about something Kristi had absolutely no interest in. Unfortunately, as passionate as Quincy was about his speech, he noticed her as soon as she crept past the doors.
“Acting is one of the greatest sins one can commit. In truth, acting is simply lying with actions. When one does—KRISTI!” he suddenly barked out.
Half of the attendees jumped in bewilderment.
“Young lady, why are you late for such an important Gathering? I would expect a child of sixteen years to be much more responsible.”
Speaker Quincy’s pug nose twitched with resentment. He had gone through multiple surgeries in effort to make his nose look like less of an eyesore. As far as Kristi could tell, though, his efforts were in vain.
“Not that I expect a child with genetic disabilities to attend an intellectual meeting,” Quincy said to himself, but loud enough for most of the attendees to hear.
Glenn snickered loudly. He was leaning against the wall with his oh-so-perfect hair and his oh-so-perfect eyes. The usual gaggle of lackeys was sprawled in the pews around him. All of Glenn’s followers had three things in common: they were rich, they were good-looking, and they were stupid.
Kristi slunk to an empty seat near the back of the room and proceeded to sulk.
The Gathering Hall could easily seat five hundred people, though only three quarters of the room was filled today. The ceiling was three stories high and had a magnificent mural of the Evolution of Science painted on it. Marble pews ran down the hall; a plush, velvet carpet rested between them, snaking its way to the head of the hall. It gave the room an intimidating feel.
After making sure Kristi had been thoroughly embarrassed, Quincy resumed back to his speech. “As I was saying before, acting is a sneaky sin. Although we all know acting is lying with actions, many of us unconsciously act all the time. Of course when you act, you don’t do it with a malicious purpose; perhaps you pretended to be happy when you received an unwanted gift, or maybe you have acted excited about attending an event you really weren’t enthusiastic about. Nevertheless, those are all sins, no matter how small.”
Kristi assumed an interested look, even though her mind was really wandering about. Sorry, Quincy, for acting interested during your speech about the sins of acting. But then again, do you see me wearing a halo? I didn’t think so.
She chuckled at irony of the situation and was shushed by the surrounding people who gave her distasteful glances. Kristi slouched in her seat, not wanting to attract any more attention. Life was harsh being different.
The small, glass bell rang, signaling the end of Sunday Gathering. Kristi hurried out the door. It was almost twelve o’clock and the energy bar she ate for breakfast didn’t satisfy her stomach’s need for long. To her annoyance, Glenn and his cronies must have snuck out of the sermon early because they were waiting for her by the entrance. It was common knowledge among the citizens Kristi hated Sunday Gatherings; she was always the first person out of those double doors that lead into the Gathering Hall.
Glenn had a nasty smirk pasted across his face. Lunch would ha
ve to wait.
“Think you’re better than everyone else, being able to come to my dad’s speech late, don’t you?” he asked.
Henry and Michel, his two staunchest supporters, nodded their heads in agreement. Henry resembled a grizzly bear to some degree; his hulking figure certainly helped with that image.
“What do you want, Glenn?” Kristi said. “It’s not my fault I was late today.
Glenn arched an eyebrow. “Are you implying it was my fault that you were late? If so, would you be so kind as to explain why it’s my fault I made you late?”
“I could’ve gotten here on time if I had my bike,” Kristi lied.
“It’s your own fault you don’t have your bike,” Glenn said. “Maybe if you were more careful when riding it, you wouldn’t have run it into a fence.”
“Glenn, would you just cut it out and leave me alone? I know it was you who slashed my bike’s tires.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. According to the records, it was your stupidity that caused your bike to be currently unusable.” Some Perfects streamed out behind Kristi. Glenn winked at a group of girls, eliciting a chorus of giggles from them.
Kristi tried her best to rein in her temper. If she started a fight in public, she would get sent to the detention center.
“Tell me you did not hack into the records,” she said.
“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t change the records.” Glenn gave Michel a meaningful look.
Michel sneered at Kristi. “You poor thing, running around getting yourself in trouble. What are you going to do next? Ride your droid-horse into a wall?”
“Glenn!” Speaker Quincy called out. “Get over here now. We have a college tour at Westland University in two hours.”
Glenn mockingly tipped an imaginary hat at Kristi. “Until next time.”
Kristi watched the three boys file into the solar-car. Her electro-slate vibrated against her jeans, announcing she had an instafication.
“On,” she commanded the electro-slate. “View instafication.”
The message popped into view.
To: Kristi Shea
From: Leo’s Bike Shop
Message: Kristi, your hydro-bike is ready for pick up at any time.
“Dad’s not too happy with you.”
Kristi spun around to face the voice. Jaiden stood behind her, scrolling through his electro-slate while he spoke. “You know how he dislikes negative attention being cast upon our family.”
Kristi laughed without the slightest hint of humor. “What else is new? He’s always complaining about my mistakes.”
“Although it may seem like he’s being tough on you, he does care about you.”
“Not enough to allow me to skip Sunday Gatherings.” Kristi stowed away her electro-slate. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”
Jaiden glanced at his smart-watch. “Yeah. I have to assist Professor Smetana at the lab in an hour. Stay out of trouble, will you?”
“It’s not like I purposely go chasing after trouble. By the way, how many points do you have on your electro-slate? I might need to borrow some of yours.”
“A bit over eight hundred points. Why do you need some?”
“Glenn had Michel hack and alter the damage report I submitted to hide the fact that my hydro-bike was vandalized. He didn’t want to be found guilty of slicing the tires. So now it’s my fault my hydro-bike isn’t functioning. Insurance doesn’t cover self-damages.”
“All this bullying needs to stop,” Jaiden said. “I think I’m going to confront Glenn tomorrow.”
Jaiden was a year older than Glenn, but Glenn’s dad held a considerable amount of authority over the town. Getting on the bad side of the Quincy family may not end up well.
“Please, don’t,” Kristi said. “It’s not worth it.”
“We’ll see,” Jaiden said.
He wordlessly sent Kristi some of his points and then left; Professor Smetana expected her lab assistants to be punctual.
“Kristi Shea,” Kristi said to the girl behind the reception desk.
“ID?” The receptionist held out her hand for some form of identification.
Kristi pulled up her ID page on her electro-slate and allowed the girl to scan the barcode.
“Your bike is in garage five,” the receptionist said.
Kristi found Mechanic Leo organizing tools in garage five. She rubbed her arms; the chilly air being blown onto her from the overhead air conditioner stimulated goose bumps to run up and down her arm.
Mechanic Leo set down the wrench he was holding and wheeled Kristi’s hydro-bike over and gave a quick report. “I replaced both of the tires and the seat. I also gave the bike a quick weather-proof seal of paint.”
Kristi grasped the memory foam handles of the bike. “Thank you. How much for the repairs?”
“A hundred and fifty points.”
She wired the points to Mechanic Leo’s account and thanked him again.
Kristi headed to the stables in her backyard as soon as she parked her bike in the garage. Of course, there were no real horses in the stable because that would be silly; nobody wants to clean up the mess real horses make. Flurry, a droid-horse Kristi had received for her tenth birthday, peered at her with mocha-brown eyes.
“Good to see you again.” She fondly stroke Flurry’s face. “Wish I could stay longer, but I have to go. I promise I’ll take you for a ride right after I finish my homework.”
Kristi gave Flurry one last scratch on the withers then left for the library.
chapter two
[ Troop ]