by V. K. Ludwig
“The only thing they’re missing are pitchforks,” she whispered.
I turned my head and looked at the crowd which had assembled less than thirty feet from us. Their lips twitched, and their anger surfaced to their faces. The disdain was palpable in the way they huffed between incoherent words. They had more prejudice than tolerance.
I waved Autumn back with my hand and approached the horde. “What is going on here? The clanswoman is our guest, and the council won’t tolerate the way you show up here like that.”
A woman stepped forward, her chin jutted. “We have questions for her.”
“Then get in touch with councilwoman Kenya and have her arrange a meet-and-greet. This is neither the time nor the place.” I pointed at the pavilion behind us. “She just completed her first yoga session, which shows how determined she is to learn about our ways here.”
“She has no business being here,” a heavyset man shouted from one of the last rows.
“Yeah,” another one chimed in. “Send her back home to those savages and sick children. She should be ashamed… coming here, eating from our gardens, enjoying —”
“I won’t have her listen to this nonsense,” I said and fumbled with my holo-band. “You will move aside and let us pass. The distress signal is out, so unless you want the defenders to take care of your little assembly, you better get going.”
I took a few steps back, not letting them out of my sight, and reached my hand out for Autumn’s. Less than a breath later, our fingers intertwined and I led her over the grass along the mirrors.
Her hand squeezed mine. “Are they going to hurt me?”
“Don’t worry, I got you. The lab is too far, but the community home is right behind that pathway.”
We picked up the pace and shouts thundered from behind us. “You’re one of them, and we all know it.”
Another voice pinched in. “You can hide in that research lab all you want. Doesn’t change a thing about where you come from, traitor!”
Gray suits marched up from in front of us, but I kept going, pulling her through the line of defenders and onto the sidewalk.
I have to protect her. I have to protect her. The words repeated in my mind like the psalms of my childhood. I have to protect her.
My legs wobbled, and I glanced over my shoulder, darting my hand for the aluminum rail at the side of the stairs. Adrenaline-charged, air pumped in and out of my lungs. “Let’s go upstairs until everything calmed down.” I pulled her up the concrete steps. “I’m sure they will send someone to check up on us soon.”
Chapter 11
Autumn
My stomach tumbled to the very bottom, but this time not triggered by the elevator ride. My eyes wandered to our hands, entangled to an unbreakable knot. Strong and tight, his grip made my skin burn ever since we left the park. Probably because he was such an obnoxious jerk.
I said nothing — he did get me away from those people after all.
“They wouldn’t have attacked me, right?” I asked.
He strained the corners of his mouth into a smile. “Uh-uh. They know very well they wouldn’t stand a chance against you. Besides, we’re not exactly famous for our fighting skills.”
“Max, Max, would you look at yourself,” I teased. “Who would have thought there’s a funny side to this serious guy.”
He gave me a slow wink, dimples forming around his cheek as if he didn’t quite master it yet.
Ding! The elevator announced an unexpected stop. When the door opened, he dropped his dimples. Along with my hand.
A young guy stepped into the elevator. “Oh, hey Max.”
He leaned his shoulder against the glass, his long blonde curls pushing over from behind. That guy stared me down like a smudge on the window, his lips pouting from a tanned face as if he had nasty words stuck between them. A mix of frustration and annoyance rode up my spine at a canter. Was Ruth the only kind person here… and perhaps Max a little?
“Bryan, this is Autumn, the —”
“Clanswoman.” Bryan completed the sentence. “You’re the only thing the Districts are talking about these days. Straight down to the south.”
“Bryan works as a resource allocation specialist and travels a lot,” Max added.
My interest spiked. “Does that mean you’ve seen the ocean?”
“Seen it?” He threw his head back in a laugh. When his gaze returned, the wrinkles around his eyes had disappeared, and his mouth turned slightly upward. “I’m riding it, girl. Whenever they send me down there, I leave one day early so I can go surfing.”
“I have no clue what surfing is.”
Another ding announced we had arrived, and we all stepped outside, congregating in the hallway.
Bryan stretched out his palm and weaved it horizontally in front of his chest. “It’s pretty much just a long board you stand on, and it carries you over the waves. Max should take you on a trip to the Peridot district so you can try it yourself. Just don’t forget the protection suit.”
“I thought the levels are harmless right now?” Max asked, shifting to the left for a peek on the street below.
“For the most part.” Bryan nodded as if taking the wind out of Max’s question. “The current pushes traces of radiation into the gulf every now and then. It’s not too bad, but some chemicals can be tough on your skin if you spend the entire day in the water.”
Excitement seeped into my chest like warm syrup. “Oh please, please, Max. Can you and Ruth take me to the ocean? My mom showed me photographs of it, but I always wanted to see it in real.”
Two days ago the interactive wall had me bounce from floor to ceiling. But now? Pictures whooshed through my head in a tangled mess. Waves roared. Gritty sand stuck between my toes. Crabs peeked at me from small holes, one claw up in a warning.
Max gave Bryan a see-what-you-did kind of look. “I’ll let Ruth know, and she can discuss it with the council. But don’t get your hopes up. I doubt they will let you travel that far. Especially not after what just happened.”
Bryan pointed his finger right at where the floor met the window. “That commotion isn’t because of you, is it?”
I took a step toward the window. A van parked in the middle of an intersection not far from the community home. Around it, men and women scanned holo-bands and took interactive notes. Defenders. I recognized them by their gray jumpsuits.
“I am afraid so,” Max said. “Anyway, we gotta go. I have to contact Ruth and tell her we won’t be in this morning.”
“Give me a holler if you ever make it to the beach.” Bryan gave a quick wave. “I’ll let you borrow my surfboard.”
I followed Max along the hallway in the opposite direction of where Ruth’s apartment was located. He punched in a long-ass code on his keypad, and we stepped inside.
“You can walk straight into the living area.” He darted for his bedroom door and pulled the door shut. “If you are thirsty, there is a bottle of regular water in the first kitchen cabinet to the left.”
“You have regular water at your place?”
He turned his thumb toward his chest and opened his mouth, but I quickly blurted, “Scientist. I know.”
I stepped into his living area. His kitchen looked very much like Ruths, except for the island which had books and magazines stacked all over. The opposite side, however, oh my! An ode to bachelorhood.
Little gizmos stood crammed on a desk. Above it, a completed puzzle of Darwin’s evolution; except for the missing corner piece.
“What are those?” My eyes wandered to the ceiling, where toy-sized airplanes hung from clear thread.
“I built all those with my dad when I was a kid,” he said. “They are models. We cut out the pieces, glued them together and painted them as well. Those are just a few, though. I got more in a box in my bedroom.”
I let imagination take hold. Suddenly, the picture of the grumpy scientist jerk turned into a boy with a tiny paintbrush in his hands. Glue stuck to his fingers, and the room stank o
f oil-based paint.
“And what on earth are those?” I stood in front of a blackboard, covered in chalky formulas and fancy words I didn’t understand. Next to them, pictures of tissue, probably human, ranging from deep red to creamy peach. “Gross! Looks like shiny pieces of colored rubber.”
I slipped out of my shoes and sat on his couch, a deep brown thing which gobbled me up and pulled me deep into its cushions.
A layer of dust rested on the wooden coffee table in front of me, unbothered by the additional stacks of even more magazines. Scientific ones, mostly. With serious-looking people, holding vials between their gangly fingers.
“It’s photos of cancer probes.” He sat down beside me. “Most of them breast and colon cancer, though I try to concentrate on lungs.”
“But I thought you are a fertility specialist.”
“At least that’s what my name tag says.” His expression turned rigid. “That’s the job they offered me. Guess this is some sort of a passion child for me.”
“Disgusting looking tissue?”
He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “Curing cancer.”
“But I thought the Districts cured cancer already. When was the last time they have diagnosed someone with it?”
“Well, we haven’t had a case in a long time because of the Newgenics program. The requirements don't allow people with an inherited defect to participate.” He wiped his hands over his face, leaving behind a dark shroud. “Anyway, we might have bred it out, but we still haven’t figured out how to cure it.”
Something heavy landed at the bottom of my stomach. Questions wormed through me, but I knew better than to ask. I recognized the deep pain in his eyes right away — saw it in my own reflection at times. Some things are better left unsaid… unexplained.
“Why did that man call you a traitor?”
My breath quickened the moment I finished the question, but not nearly as much as Max’s breath which turned audible.
“Because of my dad. He is… well, he was…” A deep sigh made his nostrils flare up. “It’s not something I usually talk about.”
I pulled my legs up into a criss-cross and turned toward him. “How about you make this an exception. That way you can make up for the fact that you won’t let me participate in your experiment.”
His feet began to tap-dance on the rug beneath him. “I already explained that you are not suited for it.”
“Because you’re not into women?”
“What?” He pulled one leg onto the couch and turned to me. “Why would you… what?”
“It’s not a big deal. Some of our luckiest men are those who aren’t into women. Or even if you are kind of undecided —”
“I am not,” he said, his cheeks crimson. “Where would you even get that idea?”
“Because you dropped my hand the moment Bryan appeared by the elevator. I figured you like —”
“Absolutely not.”
“How do you know?” I pulled myself closer to him, my heart doing an uninvited jolt at the fact that he didn’t pull away. “After all, how would you know what you feel attracted to if you’re not even experiencing any attraction at all?”
He pointed his index finger up, a clear sign a lecture would follow. “For your information: I started using my own formula days ago.”
No shit! I forced my face into an expression of surprise with a hint of borderline shock. Satisfied at my reaction he eased back into the cushion behind him, but all I could do was laugh on the inside. Did he really think I didn’t notice his cock back at the Pavilion of the Inner Mirror? Didn’t feel how my body aroused him? I might have flinched back there, but now, at a safe distance, determination swept over me.
“So, it’s because you don’t like me and nothing about me tempts you.”
“It’s not like that.” His lips twitched, but no additional words followed, as if something stopped him from saying whatever got stuck in his throat.
I shrugged my shoulders. “There is more to it than just physical attraction, you know.”
“You mean love?”
“That too, but I meant something else,” I said. “Can I show you? But I would need to touch you for that.”
He eyed me for a second but eventually nodded without another word. Anxiety sucked the air out of my lungs for a brief moment.
Could this get me in trouble? Uh-huh.
Might he be unable to control himself? Unlikely.
Was this still a fucking crazy idea? Hell yeah!
But I didn’t give a shit — I had a lesson to teach.
I patted on the couch, and he lifted his other leg up. When I tugged his shoulders with both of my hands, he worked his body down a bit.
I lay down beside him.
With his arms like stiff boards, they created a rigid border between our bodies. A drumroll rumbled through me, its intensity making me hold my breath. This is a terrible mistake.
Two questions battled for attention in my brain: what if he doesn’t want me this close? But the scarier one of them squeezed my throat: what if he wants me even closer?
And then another one came up, like an uninvited comment, sending shivers down my legs: what if this got out of control?
I wanted to be part of the experiment. Show him and all the others what they missed out on. Make him understand what their way of life robbed them of. I wanted us to be right, and them to be wrong.
But most of all, I wanted him to want me because I had what it took. Even if he thought otherwise.
Quick and shallow breaths came and went from Max’s mouth, his lips slightly parted. I placed my hand onto his chest, letting my fingers trace around his muscles. The thump of his heart against my fingertips grew stronger. Faster, too.
All noise around us disappeared.
The footsteps outside the hall. Gone.
The bird’s chirping through the opened window. Lost.
Nothing remained but the sound of his stuttering breath, and the scent of his skin. Sweet and clean, with a note of masculinity to it.
My mind yelled at me. Don’t go further than that.
I paid no attention to it.
The moment I lay my head atop his shoulder, he pushed his arm underneath me and pulled me against him. We stayed like that for a moment, allowing each other to get used to the heat and the closeness.
The combined heat of our bodies set me on fire, the embers clearly bedded somewhere between my legs. Shit! Never did being at peace feel so wrong.
“So,” I said. “You were saying something about your dad.”
The sigh which stuttered through his chest lifted my head and dropped it deeper into him. “My dad used to be a reverend. Or I guess he still is because I doubt that’s something you can ever stop being.”
“You mean like a priest?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He wiped a thin tendril of hair out of my face, his fingers burning my skin at the touch. “The council banned religions forever ago since most of them interfered with the idea of the Newgenics program. He continued preaching throughout my childhood, though.”
A thirst to hear more flared up inside me, turning my mouth dry. For years I wanted to learn more about the old religions, with no-one to turn to. “You’re lucky you grew up with it. We have a church close to our village, and I go there sometimes. I try to pray, but it makes me feel so silly because I don’t really understand how it works. Like… do I fold my hands? Do I put my palms together with my fingers straight?”
“I don’t think it really matters. But if it helps you, I always folded my hands.”
I looked into his hazel eyes. “And then you prayed?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What did you pray for?”
“Um.” His lips flinched. “Mostly for my dad to stop being a reverend, and leave me out of all this.”
His answer shocked me, and I lifted my head giving him a for-real-now stare. “Why would you pray for something like that? I would give a whole lot for being able to meet someone
who can teach me more. Our clan is a melting pot of whatever scraps we could find on any and all religions. There isn’t really any consistency.”
He swung his body on its side, facing me directly now. “You don’t understand what it is like growing up in the Drainpipes, and people staring you down because your dad is a nonconformist. I still get those looks today.”
Realization settled down on me like heavy iron chains. “That’s why they called you a traitor.”
He answered me with a slow and pained blink of his eyes, making the liquids in my stomach churn.
“I don’t get how you ended up working as a scientist. I mean, doesn’t that go against a lot of stuff the Bible teaches?”
“Sure does,” he said, his voice marinated in indifference. “All I needed was find something I am more passionate about than the Ten Commandments.”
“Science?”
He shook his head. “Helping people, so they won’t have to suffocate on their own breath.”
I took a quick glimpse over my shoulder and the blackboard before I turned back to him. “What does your dad think about your work?”
His eyes wandered down my face and lost themselves on my lips. My heart pounded so hard, I feared he could count the beats at the back of my spine. And it confused the hell out of me. We lay there like lovers, talking snippets of his life. This was way too nice to be ok. I let a little reminder echo through my head. He called me a libido inhibitor.
“He’s not happy about it.” His eyes jumped back up. “Not that it matters. No matter what I do, I will always be a traitor for either side. Not that my dad would ever call me that, but I’m sure he feels betrayed.”
“And you grew up in drainpipes?”
“No, not drainpipes. The Drainpipes. My best guess is that every district has its own, where the nonconformists live in filth and dirt.”
“I had no idea the Districts had areas like that,” I remembered the many times people talked about this place like it was the land of milk and honey. Everyone was cared for. Everyone was safe. Everyone was a happy vessel, void of love. “Thinking about it, we’ve never heard much about nonconformists either.”