Glass helix, p.1
Glass Helix, page 1
GLASS HELIX
Katee Stein
Copyright © 2023 by Katee Stein
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To my three;
Ed, Eliana, and Gabriel,
who believed in this story from the beginning.
Contents
Prologue
1. This is Stupid
2. No One Runs
3. Hell of a Silver Lining
4. Who’s The New Guy
5. Too Much
6. Flashbacks, Episodes, or Memories
7. Therein Lies The Problem
8. A Crash Course
9. Don't Question Old Ladies
10. Follow Her Lead and You'll Do Fine
11. A Picnic Of Our Own
12. It Doesn't Work Like That
13. Naive Maybe, But Bright
14. It's Monday, Mae
15. AGNOSTAS Trials
16. I Must Have Misheard
17. Don't You Do It—
18. Not Bad For A Refrigeration Mechanic
19. Not Tonight
20. You’re Going To Get Me In Trouble
21. Something's Not Right With This Guy
22. Permission Is Not Needed
23. There's Always Pain
24. He Will Never Be Yours
25. Keep Being Clever
26. Please, Don't
27. Until it is
28. My Body Would Call You a Liar
29. The Right to Choose
30. Sloppy Work
31. A Trade
32. Brave Words For Someone Hiding
33. A Little Added Insurance
34. This Time It Will Be Different
35. Fight With Me
36. Better Than Dead Weight
37. We Are Hope
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
From the Publisher
Prologue
One thought held him: to reach the forest before he died.
The boy squeezed his thin frame through the gap at the bottom of the chain link fence. The looped metal was the last barrier keeping him from the death that lay beyond. He wriggled his hips free and staggered to his feet, his head swimming. Goosebumps tickled up from hot, fevered skin as he pushed into the bramble, ignoring the thorns tugging against his skin. It was an inconsequential pain in light of recent weeks.
An alarm cut through the silence. His heart rate spiked and a wave of nausea clutched at his belly. He hazarded a glance back toward the city glowing in artificial light. The curved relief of the Medical Support Center swayed within his vision, continuing its muffled pulse accusingly. He had robbed them of the only thing it was his right to own: his body.
Even in his delirium he felt a stirring of pride. Angular shoulders pulled back and his chin lifted a degree, he turned his back on the community who had raised him—who had killed him. If they wanted his body so badly, they could come and face their own death. Only those who welcomed a quick end would cross the line without full bio-gear.
He had spent endless hours staring at the distant wood from his room. Its lush growth was a testament to an evolution humanity had never managed. Their mistake had been removing death as a deterrent. Now he was free to walk into the embrace of the trees.
The forest had called through pain induced delirium. “Come.”
It beckoned as his body buckled under the rigors of testing. “Come.”
As he faded, the voice of the forest grew in his mind and his every thought was consumed with that one word. “Come.”
Tonight, a remnant of life had stirred within him and his waking dream had solidified into a fiery determination. He knew the rhythms of the medical center as surely as he knew his own heartbeat. He had slipped through the rooms and halls unnoticed and into the streets of the sleeping city. The city that should have been more than a flat backdrop to his life.
As sallow looking as he was, waif-like and alone, wearing med-center cotton, he would have drawn attention. So, he crept through alleys and dark side streets like vermin until he clambered beyond the boundary, free.
A tremor of euphoria stole over him, masking another fevered shiver. He’d done it. The promise of soft, damp earth kept him moving even as his limbs trembled and his joints protested each movement.
Death's soft voice called. “Sleep here…rest.”
His steps faltered and as his eyes lifted to the trees watching his progress with quiet anticipation. A steady thrum rose within his chest.
“Come…come…come.”
He lurched forward and scraped his way up a shallow ditch, force of will propelling his spent shell. Mercifully, once clear of the bramble, the terrain leveled and clumps of rough grass and knee-high shrubs allowed his steps to settle into a wobbling gait. In his febrile mind the voice of the wood urged him forward. Finally, as the sun broke free of the mountains in the east, he stepped beneath a broad-limbed grove of deciduous trees. Gilded light shone through the canopy overhead and he tipped his chin to meet its kiss on his tear-stained face before sinking to the forest floor in relief.
The forest welcomed him with a whispered breeze. "Home."
He wrapped his thin arms around his chest and sunk back against the gnarled roots of the large oak. There, nestled into the leaves and clutter at the tree’s base, he gazed contentedly up into the vast tangle of life above him. In quiet warmth he faded in and out of consciousness. Peace lay like a blanket over his curled form. Here with the lost and broken pieces of the forest floor he could finally let go, and so, as the afternoon sun shone bright, he did.
Chapter 1
This is Stupid
Khai looked back over his shoulder. This is stupid. Why am I doing this?
The hills and mountains stretched wide behind him and he resisted the impulse to turn back and find shelter within the familiar folds of the forest, but something told him this was his last chance to return. ARC showing up in the last two communities he visited was pushing his definition of a coincidence.
Thick brambles pulled at the dark navy canvas of his jacket and he fought for footing in the dense growth. The lights of Ardor glowed, chasing away the black of night, the soft halo making it possible to make out the details even here at the boundary.
Flashes shuddered through his body, partially-remembered moments of the last time he was here. Half-delirious with fever, these same brambles had ripped into his bare skin and felt like an impossible barrier. Has it really been four years? The searing lines cut into his skin had been a welcome relief compared to what had raged through his body.
He locked his jaw against the intrusive thoughts and pushed aside a sweeping tangle of blackberry canes. The gloves he wore now, though thin, did their job and spared him the bushes' small spears. He wove his way through the dense foliage careful not to leave a discernible path, but it was slow work. Ahead, he could make out the boundary fence and, more importantly, the dead space where nothing grew for several feet on either side.
Sweat beading on his brow, Khai shrugged through the last desperate cling-ons and stepped up to the fence. A thrill of excitement rushed through him, leaving anxiety and perhaps reason behind. After all these years, he was so close. He stretched out his stride, letting his hand bounce along the dips and rises of the chain links as searched for a junction box. It would be nearby. They monitored for any movement through the barrier on the off chance the primary deterrents failed to keep biologicals—such as animals or even insects—out. This tech, while effective, was no match for him.
His hand bumped into a conduit line and he traced it to its control box. He popped open the metal cover and swung his backpack around so he could reach a zipped side pocket. Pulling out what he needed to hack the system without triggering alarms, he set to work.
There was only one reason to be here in Ardor. It was time to make good on a long overdue promise.
He bypassed the security and set a timer. It should only take ten minutes to make it across the boundary fields. He could use a good run. He closed up the junction box, tightened the straps of his bag and scaled the fence.
The boundary fields were starting to collect the night's dew and before he got too far, his feet squelched in his shoes. Mowers swept the field daily, keeping the mix of grains and grasses from getting too tall, but they still hit mid-shin. At the same time they were cut, they were sprayed to block foreign contaminants from reaching the city. The green space was a complex piece of bioengineering and protective agriculture.
To Khai, it was nothing more than open space to stretch his legs. He shifted from a jog into a full sprint and relished the feeling of the ground disappearing beneath his feet and the wind in his face. A pang of regret dampened the moment. Few would step foot in these fields. None would feel this freedom. After all, there were easier ways to kill yourself.
The first time he’d made the journey through the boundary, it’d been to meet death on his terms, only to find the forest had other plans. He’d lived but had been separated from everyone he’d ever cared about.
Today that ended.
Khai’s heart thudded within his chest as he angled east and made for a dark rise at the edge of the city. East Ardor Park would be a good place to wait. Its slopes ran down to the boundary fields. He slowed as he reached the short grass, his breath coming in long pulls and the scent of cool ea rth filling his nose. I’m here. He hiked up the hill and searched for a bench. Lamp posts lined a packed gravel path, their warm yellow light pooling around them like honey.
The ordered beauty within the communities always struck him as ironic. The pristine streets and perfectly manicured neighborhoods. Even these genetically maintained plants allowed for the community's inhabitants to enjoy slivers of nature without risk. How could this space look so safe and welcoming? This place had nearly killed him. He’d run and had been too afraid to look back.
He found a bench surrounded by a young stand of fir, their needled branches like feathers reaching to dust the stars. He laid back using his bag as a pillow, and tried to ignore the city that lay beyond. It was an impossible task. According to the city files, she was only blocks from here.
I could go knock on her door right now.
And wake her up? He shifted and tucked an arm above his head, willing away the impulse to be reckless. He had waited this long; he didn’t want to mess things up more than he already had
What will I say? What could be said? He planned out conversations and rehearsed explanations, but nothing felt adequate. He sighed and glared at the sky. The stars above remained stubbornly silent on the matter, and so he rolled to his side and forced his eyes closed.
“One day I’ll be out there.” A soft voice filled his mind, and Khai was transported a lifetime ago to the rooftop of the Ardor Medical Support Center.
Others near his age, mostly fourteen to sixteen-year-olds, gathered around an artificial fire pit. Some dragged IV poles behind them, others used mobility aids. Those younger had been sent to bed early despite a chorus of complaints. He sat on a nearby air exchange unit looking out over the city with a petite girl wrapped in a thick knit sweater next to him.
The girl’s statement sent a curl of unease twisting through him. “Where would you go?”
“Anywhere but here,” she said with a comical twist of her eyebrow as if it were obvious. “But somewhere I could have a picnic on the roof every day.”
What would life be like if she left? The uncomfortable thought sent a spike into his young heart.
“How about you?” she asked. Her smile revealed a hint of a dimple in her cheek.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Anywhere with you. The unspoken words stayed lodged in his throat. This thing between them, was it an understanding? Or was it wishful thinking on his part? The feelings felt too big for words.
Mae, the only one in this god-forsaken world who knew him—the real him—turned to meet his gaze, steel-gray eyes softening at his response.
“We’d go together, silly. I’d never leave you behind. You’re my hope.” She slipped her hand into his, and at its warmth, his every nerve-ending came alive as if for the very first time. He let their fingers entwine, and squeezed her hand, never wanting to let go.
“Hope?”
She smirked and leaned into him and they watched the sun dip below the horizon. The others laughed and joked around the fire, oblivious to the moment unfolding next to them.
“Hope that there is more to this life than testing and procedures. Hope I can one day have a life out there.” She waved her free hand in a broad gesture to the community below them. Mae’s voice dropped then, the quiet statement holding a question.
“With someone I care about.”
“You’re my hope, too.” He whispered and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. Their lives were anything but perfect, but at this moment, none of it mattered. Khai breathed in a hint of freshly cut grass and memorized the feel of Mae next to him. Her gentle warmth was everything he wanted and needed. “Together, we are hope.”
The scene shifted and the sun swung in a sudden and dizzying arc. What the hell? What had been a sunset was now on the opposite horizon, fresh rays peeking from behind the mountain range in the distance. It was a fresh sunrise. I’m dreaming, he realized.
His view was of the mountains from outside East Ardor Park as he walked along a quiet sidewalk. He could feel the cool of the morning air and a tingle of anticipation, anxious for the warmth the sun would soon spill across the landscape. Then a string of sensations struck him; a tight chest and constricted airways; reluctant, cramped muscles; and a deep, persistent burning of nerve endings.
Khai sat up, heart pounding. He scanned the area around him. A heavy dew had settled over him during the night, so he pulled a fresh sweater from his bag and pulled it on. The sky matched what he had seen in his dream. Exactly. Even down to the scattered clouds and color of the pre-dawn light.
He shivered, a possibility nagging at him.
A mind pushing into his dreams? It had never happened before. Even when he had first discovered his ability to hear others' thoughts, his unconscious mind had always remained impervious to such intrusions. Besides, it was ridiculously early. Who walks at this hour? It had to be before 6 am.
Closing his eyes, Khai opened his mind to sense thoughts around him. The din of a city on the verge of waking came through as a low rumble. Individual minds were too far away to feel anything more than an impression. His brow pinched as he pushed the noise of the community aside and scanned his immediate vicinity. There. He stiffened as he brushed the mind of someone entering the park.
Unlike others, this mind, the pattern and shape of the thoughts felt familiar. What are the chances—
He stood and scooped the pack from the bench in one smooth motion, stepping into the cover of the fir trees. The needles pressed against his cheek as he angled to see the edge of the park. He let the individual's thoughts flood freely into his mind. They were peaceful and contemplative, but he could feel pain gnawing at the edges of their consciousness.
A woman stepped into view. She was of an average height with wavy brown hair that hit just past her shoulders. Most was pulled back into a loose braid, with a few pieces left free, framing her heart-shaped face. She had a petite nose which perfectly accented her soft features and full lips.
He took her in as only an unseen voyeur could. He traced every line of her and held it up to his own memory of the young woman he had left behind. Mae. She looked stronger than when he had last seen her. Not whole, but a far sight better than being plugged with tubes and wires stuck within the MSC.
She paused on the path and tipped her head to the sun. Khai instinctively moved. It was her. He needed to pull her into his arms and feel the press of her body against his; solid and real. His bag caught in the branches and he stopped with a lurch.
I left. We were to go together. And I left her. The accusation tore at his conscience. The logistics of why didn’t matter in this moment. He’d had four years to return. It didn’t matter he had been alone and afraid; unsure of what he’d become. It didn’t matter he’d worked and planned and found a way to leave the communities behind; somewhere safe. The only thing that mattered was that he had broken his promise. Will she ever forgive me?
He peered back through the trees, relishing the feel of her mind against his. She was admiring the color shift across the sky. His chest tightened as he felt her struggle to catch her breath. She’s still so weak. The thought made his own chest ache. He knew the undefinable sorrow of living with a body you could not depend on.
He didn’t sense frustration from her, but rather the careful truce she held with her body. She would slow for it, and it would push further for her. She wasn’t at war with herself, at least not as he’d once been.
Mae lowered herself onto a bench overlooking the slope and the eastern border of the park. The creamy morning light highlighted the cut of her jaw and the slope of her neck. She had changed, grown in their time apart. What did you expect? For her to remain frozen in time?
