Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,10
sheen to it, like he’s diseased or in pain. Tech-withdrawal is taking its toll. “I can’t sit on the truth,” he says.
That’s when I get up to go. “If you’re not interested, goodbye.”
“Wait!” Seth calls after me.
I’m already headed toward the door. The other inmates mark my departure with a fresh round of suggestions.
“I promise!” Seth yells after me.
I pretend not to hear.
“Blanca, wait!”
Finally, I pause.
The dirtbags around me are practically frothing now that they know my name. The thing is, I don’t know how Seth ever learned it. He’s been incarcerated since he was hauled away. How does he know my name is Blanca? That information wasn’t released until after my Harvest. By the time it was blaring on every newsboard in the world, Seth was already locked up.
I turn around and walk back to Seth’s cell. This time, I don’t crouch down to his level. “How do you know my name, Rex?”
Seth stands up and peers down at me. He’s a lot taller than his dad. He holds up his hands so I can see the chips. “I’m a Virus, sweetheart. Ordinary measures of protection don’t keep me out.”
“Then why have you been locked up in this jail all month?”
Now it’s Seth’s turn to flush. I must have hit him where it hurts. I’ll be sure to remember that for the future.
“I heard you and that other Vestal talking,” he says, “before I took your picture.”
“So you’re not only a thief, you’re also a sneak.”
“I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. I let my silence weigh in on Seth for a second so he can’t be sure if I will help him or not. I want him to know that there are consequences to being a toad.
Finally, Seth wags one of his hideously maimed fingers between us. “Private,” he says. “I won’t tell anybody about this.”
“Anything about me ever,” I correct. “I’m completely off limits.”
“Okay.”
“Swear it.”
Seth holds up his mother’s pendant, the lion-faced cobra, and kisses it. “I promise,” he says.
And like a fool, I believe him.
Seth’s hands shake the whole ride back to town. There’s a sticky stench in the car, and it’s not coming from me. It emanates from Seth, the tech-addict sitting to my right, who probably hasn’t showered in days. Alan has already put up the lead-lined divider, and we’re completely cloistered.
“The batteries are dead,” Seth mumbles. “I can’t charge them in here for some reason. Couldn’t we pull over for a minute?” He’s practically incoherent. “I need to check my feed. I need to —”
“No,” I interrupt. “I’ve already been gone too long.”
“It’s been almost forever.” Seth wiggles his finger-chips. “I need to see my hits.”
“You need to take a deep breath.” But I can’t ignore the fact that he’s suffering.
I look down at my cuff. The blank slate of my arms is a crazy contrast to the wall of tattoos covering Seth’s biceps. Sometimes physical comfort helps, so I grab Seth’s hands in mine. The shaking goes right through me. I’m totally clueless about tech-withdrawal, but I do know about comforting someone who’s hurting.
When we turned fourteen and had our operations, Fatima was a mess for weeks. Every night in our cloister, I’d hear her crying on the bunk right above me. I’d climb up with her and lay my head on her pillow.
“It’ll be okay,” I’d say. But Fatima would sob and sob.
“I’ll never have children,” she’d weep. “I’ll never be a mother.”
“That’s not true,” I’d whisper. “When you’re harvested, your company will assign a family to you. Someday they’ll harvest a Vestal for you and then you’ll be a Vestal-mom.”
“To a teenager, not a baby!”
I never knew what to say to that. Sterilization is for our own good, Barbelo Nemo wrote, but Fatima didn’t care. So I would put our wrists together and say the Vestal blessing.
“Fatima, you have a hard road. In so many ways it’s difficult being you. But I know that you can do it. You have everything you need to achieve happiness.”
I wonder if the blessing would help Seth too.
“Can’t you drop me off on some corner?” he begs.
“So you can go online? You’re so desperate to get your finger-chips charged that you can’t spend five more minutes in the car with me?”
Seth laces his fingers around my hand. I feel his sweaty arm press into mine. He stares at me with glazed eyes. “Please, Blanca. I need to see what’s happening with my site. I need to see my hits.”