All We See or Seem (4 page)

****

“
Gryff
…
Gryff
—
”
He could hear someone calling his name — but it wasn't his name at all. He looked around to see who was calling. It seemed to be coming from just over the fence in the shadows.

“
Who
'
s there?
”
he shouted into the darkness. Then he heard weeping. The anguish in it broke his heart. He followed the sound of desperate grief until he reached the iron fence. Through the bars he could see a shadowy form crumpled on the ground, shaking with sobs.

“
What is it?
”
he asked. “
What
'
s wrong?
”

There was no reply but more weeping, so he tried again louder.

“
What is it? What has happened? Please. Let me help you.
”

Slowly the girl stood and turned toward him. She stepped into a solitary beam of light, and he saw her tear-stained face regarding him. “
Gem.
”
The name played on his lips, hardly a whisper. She reached out for him—

He woke in a cold sweat.

 

“You have handled surrogate situations before.”

“This is different.”

“How? How can it possibly be different?”

“With all due respect, doctor, in this case, it's the timing.”

“How so? We've done this hundreds of times. Timing has never been an issue for any of them.”

“May I speak frankly, sir?”

“Please do — He's not listening, if that's what's worrying you.”

“This stem has lost her mate.”

“Mate!? How can that — We watch very — It is strictly regulated! There are no records of—”

“Sorry, sir. Poor choice of words. I didn't mean a physical mate — the thought would never have occurred to them. They have all been chemically altered against that, as you know.”

“Then what
did
you mean, Aria? Say it.”

“Her
soul
mate, sir.”

****

Gem woke up with her head spinning. She'd been increasingly dizzy in the mornings, but this was the first time her stomach had also churned. She had experienced nausea in the past, usually after Level Three benchmarks, but it only plagued her for a couple hours on the same day as the testing. And she hadn't been to benchmarks in three weeks.

Rolling out of bed slowly, she mentally prepared herself for what was inevitably coming. She sat on the edge of the mattress for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to subside, then she stood unsteadily and stumbled to the bathroom, keeping close to the wall for support.

She made it just in time.

When the worst was over, Gem reached up to the counter and dragged herself to the sink. A little cold water — that's what she needed. She splashed a little on her face then cupped her hands and brought some to her lips.
What is wrong with me?
The water helped, but her hands trembled weakly as she slumped back to the floor groaning.

The door buzzed. “ARIA. 8936. ENTRANCE GRANTED.” Aria stepped in with the digital announcement.

“Gemini? Where are you?”

“In here,” she moaned. Aria stepped into the bathroom.

“Hey, what's going on in here? Gem? You're white as a sheet!” Gem looked up groggily.

“I don't feel well.”

Aria knelt down on the floor next to Gem and put the back of her hand to Gem's forehead. “No fever. Is it your stomach? Maybe you need to eat.”

“Ugh! No. No. No breakfast, Aria. Don't even want to think about it.” Her stomach lurched at the mention of food. She had no memory of ever being this miserable. “What's wrong with me?”

“You know, I don't think it's anything to worry about. I've seen this kind of thing before. You should probably record the incident in your log — actually, if you feel like you can stand, we will do that right now. Think you can make it to the monitor?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Gem took the hand Aria offered and slowly pulled herself up. The room seemed to sway for a moment, so she used the wall to steady herself until it stabilized.

They made their way slowly to the monitor on the wall near the door. Aria helped Gem scan in, then Gem started her report, weakly at first, “Gemini — Stem 6418C. Report code 709-13. Medical concern, nausea — vomiting 0517. End report.”

“Okay, good. Got that out of the way. How about you lie back down for a few minutes? Let's see. 0525? Dispensary will be activated in about five minutes. I'll stay with you until then, okay?” She sat in the desk chair.

Gem groaned her assent. As miserable as she felt, she was happy for Aria's company.

Aria had been her support system for the past three weeks, since Gryff had left. If it hadn't been for her, Gem would have sunk into grief and been flagged by the EROMI staff for additional study. And though she hadn't cared much initially, she was glad now that Aria had kept her out of their hands.

Right on time the dispensary beeped, indicating Gem's daily supplements had been delivered. Aria stood and briskly retrieved the vial for Gem, who rolled to her side and propped up on her elbow to accept the tube. Though she wasn't thrilled about the prospect of putting more liquid on her churning stomach, she brought it to her lips, tipped her head back, and let it slip down her throat. Almost instantaneously, the nausea subsided and her stomach settled. Aria stood by observing her closely.

“Hey, your color is coming back. Feeling better?”

“Yeah — yeah… Much better, actually.”

“The real test is do you think you can eat?”

“I feel like I can, but there's only one way to find out.” Gem sat up slowly, swung her feet over the side of the bed, and paused a moment before standing — as if daring the nausea to return. It didn't.

Aria went to the closet to lay out Gem's standard green uniform, while Gem washed up and re-braided her hair. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror. She was still a little pale, but nothing like what she had been just a few moments ago. Whatever was in her supplement had done the trick. She felt one hundred percent better. But the incident was disturbing.

Endfield was a healthy community. They ate well-balanced meals and snacks on a proven schedule. They exercised vigorously every day. All sickness had been expunged years ago. They were vaccinated, hygienic, and all the common areas were sterilized daily. She knew — it was one of her favorite community assignments.

The training videos Gem had often seen showed the history of disease and how EROMI had developed cures and preventions for each of them, one-by-one. Thanks to EROMI and to Dr. Joseph Admatha, civilization was saved, and sickness no longer existed anywhere but in the histories. So, why — with all those advances in science and medicine — would Gem ever experience what she had gone through this morning? It didn't make sense.

She slipped on her uniform and smoothed the thin fabric.
All set.
It wouldn't do any good to dwell on those questions anyway. Like the psychological health videos said, asking questions just made one unhappy. But still… even as she forced them from her mind, she could sense them taking root somewhere deep in her consciousness.

As Gem strode out of the bathroom, she heard the monitor beep, indicating an incoming message. “ATTENTION: GEMINI-STEM 6418C — YOU WILL REPORT TO CLINIC-M FOR ASSESSMENT AT 0700. CONFIRM RECEIPT.”

Stepping to the monitor, Gem scanned her wrist and repeated the message into the speaker. It beeped twice to signify the end of the transmission, then she turned to Aria who had been waiting for her.

“Ready?”

 

It felt good to be home. True, his stay at home would be short. His promotion and orders had come through, and his new post was a few states to the west. Major Jennings would be headed to Washington state in a week.

“Aaron? Are you awake, honey?” His mother rapped gently on the door to his room.

Aaron inhaled deeply and stretched out his full length on the bed.

“Yes, Mom. I'm awake.” He strained the words through a yawn. “Come on in.”

The door opened about halfway, and Cary Jennings poked her head through and smiled.

“Good morning, sweetie. Listen, breakfast is on downstairs. Your father has already left for the office, and I have a few errands to run for tonight's party. You're welcome to join me if you'd like. I know you haven't been out much since you got home — might be nice.”

“Sure, Mom. That sounds good. I'll just jump in the shower. Be down in about fifteen minutes. That work?”

“Perfect! See you downstairs.”

Aaron tossed the quilt back, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and sat for a moment to get his bearings. First things first. Had to get that nasty morning taste out of his mouth.

He walked barefoot on the cold hardwood floor out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. It was locked. He knocked.

“Bobby? You almost done?”

“Yeah, dude. Be out in a minute,” was the reply. The door opened, and Bobby stepped out still dripping with a towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair wet and curly from the shower. “It's all yours, man. Word of warning? That new toothpaste is some nasty stuff. Prepare yourself.” Bobby's green eyes sparkled as he feigned a punch to Aaron's gut then dodged Aaron's return swing and made a dash down the hall to his own room, leaving a wet trail.

“Yeah, that's what I thought!” Aaron called after his little brother. He stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Still feeling pretty groggy, he turned on the sink and rinsed his face with a handful of the cold water, then brought another handful to his lips to wash the sticky taste from his mouth. Without thinking, he immediately reached to unplug his electric razor, but his hand was still wet, and the outlet zapped him.

“Holy crap!” Aaron exclaimed as he jumped back and bounced lightly around the room, holding his thumb tightly. “Man! I'm like a freaking lightning rod lately!” Still nursing his frazzled thumb, he looked down to his feet at the puddle of water Bobby had left behind. “Nice, Bobby,” Aaron muttered to himself. “Such a slob.”

He grabbed a towel hanging on the rack behind him and tossed it on the floor over the puddle, took a close look at his wounded thumb, held it to his lips a moment, and then grabbed his toothbrush, muttering choice phrases about his brother under his breath. He took the toothpaste in his good hand and turned it around to read the label. Something in his memory nagged that the striped green and white tube was vaguely familiar. He opened it and spread it on his toothbrush then stuck it in his mouth and began brushing.

Bobby wasn't kidding. It was nasty.

Aaron's heart was still beating wildly from the shock, and his taste buds were rejecting the bitter foam in his mouth. Suddenly he felt himself grow dizzy. He laid both hands on the sink to steady himself, with the toothbrush in his fist. His eyes fixed on the green and white tube, then everything went black. In the darkness flashed the face he had seen in his dream — she was laughing and holding the toothpaste out to him, like it was a joke. Something told him it was their joke, hers and his, and everything about her was familiar. Her smile. Her laugh. Her wayward auburn strands of hair framing her face. Who was she?

****

Gem stood at the sink. She had returned from breakfast and was preparing for her appointment. In her hand she held a tube of toothpaste. A sad smile played on her lips as her mind replayed a memory of Gryff laughing at the look on her face from the first taste of the new toothpaste he had brought her. It had been his week for necessity delivery to the dorm. Just her luck, she had needed toothpaste. It was the same tube she now held, flattened almost to the top. She'd need a new delivery soon.

****

The vision faded as quickly as it had come. Aaron came to just in time to catch himself. He shook his head fiercely and splashed more cold water in his face. The doctor had said there could be effects of post-traumatic stress, that he should record occurrences in the journal. But Aaron had thought he meant flashbacks from the accident. These dreams and images were stemming from something entirely different… something locked deep in a vaulted memory, somewhere he couldn't access at will, but strangely, a place he desperately wanted to explore.

He slowly lowered himself to the floor and propped himself against the pale blue wall behind him, leaning his head back and closing his eyes wearily. Should he report these episodes? Were they even worth mentioning?

A rap on the door startled him. “Aaron? Are you about ready?”

“Yeah, Mom. Be right out.”

****

“So, who's all coming to this thing, Mom?” Aaron asked as he unloaded the groceries from the car.

“Oh, a few friends. You know most of them. The Bensons, the McAllisters, Todd and David, of course… a couple of others.”

Aaron could tell she was hiding something, which could only mean one thing — Tricia.

“Mom… you didn't—”

“Well,” she replied with a sly smile. “I didn't think it would hurt anything to invite some old friends.” Her clear green eyes did nothing to hide her mischievous intent, as they implored him to humor her just this once.

Aaron sighed and shook his head. “You think you're funny, I suppose,” he grunted as he lifted the last of the bags from the trunk and followed her into the house.

“Funny? Oh no, Aaron… but I do think I'm pretty sneaky,” she teased as she began to unpack the bags and put things away. “Listen, you just be nice and sociable tonight. You're leaving in a few days, and I won't see you for a long time. The least you can do is humor me for a few hours. You never know what could happen!” She winked at him and handed him a jug of milk to put away.

“Oh, all right. I'll be nice,” he conceded as he took the milk and turned to the fridge. Then he added, “But I won't enjoy it.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the hand coming and quickly dodged Cary's playful swat, laughing. A fancy spin move put him in perfect position to pinch her from behind. His mom squealed, and he ran to avoid her retaliating swing, sporting a smug grin and a snort of laughter.

“Get outta here!” She grabbed a wooden mixing spoon and chased him out of the kitchen. “Yeah, run, buddy! Hey, party starts at five, boys. Be ready,” she hollered after him.

Back upstairs, Bobby met him in the hall. He was dressed for a workout in a gray Navy t-shirt and blue shorts. “Hey, wanna shoot some hoops, Bro?”

“You kidding me with that shirt? How did Dad even let that in the house?”

Bobby laughed. “He was pretty ticked. You shoulda seen the shade of purple he turned — a personal record, I think. It was sick, dude! So, you in or what?”

“What time is it?”

“Like three, I think. We still have a couple hours. Come on, I'll take it easy on ya.”

“Oh, yeah. ‘Cause I was so worried. Bring your A game, loser. You couldn't beat me if I hopped on one leg and shot with my left hand.”

Bobby snickered. “You mean your right hand, dillweed. You trying to pull an Inigo Montoya on me? I'm your brother. I already know you're left-handed. Nice try though.”

For just a moment, Aaron's confusion betrayed him in the brief hesitation.

“You all right, dude?” Bobby laughed uneasily. “You're acting like you have brain damage or something.”

“Very funny. Okay, we'll do it your way. I'll play you right handed, then we'll see who's laughing. I'm gonna change. Meet ya in the driveway.”

Bobby continued down the stairs, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. He had always been carefree and easily distracted by the prospect of playing a pickup game of anything.

Aaron, on the other hand, was caught off guard. So, it hadn't been a fluke after all. Before the accident he had been left-handed. The doctor had all but convinced him otherwise, that he just wasn't remembering correctly because of the accident, he had some wires crossed or something. Aaron had been second-guessing himself on a lot of things since then, even though his military training had drilled the exact opposite into his instincts. Never second-guess your intuition. He needed to get back to that, because someone was obviously lying to him. But why?

For now, Aaron took to the task-at-hand — beating the pants off his baby brother at hoops… right-handed.

Bobby didn't stand a chance.