Barcode: Legend of Apollo (5 page)

I like it. Wait. I don’t like it. Hell no.

“I’m taking a shower here every day. The water has amazing pressure, and the carpet is so soft.” At the end of her statement, her barcodes flash before returning to their normal glow.

Michelle Miyamoto’s sporting a very small towel and golden brown skin that seems to stay tanned all year. The fearsome goddess stares at me from the furthest end of the hallway.

Her long legs are hardly covered. I’ve never stared for so long. But I can’t resist. As one of the very few non-Amazon demigoddesses, there’s no wonder her strength goes unrivaled.

Michelle’s tattoos are two lions racing up her legs with their tails twisting around each ankle. She hates the feminine color, but I think it helps to soften her rough appearance.

I shake off the picturesque image inscribed on my retina before gathering myself. “You’ll never take a shower here again,” I fume while finally diverting my eyes. “And grab a shirt from my closet. Geez. Why’d you come out like that?”

“You’ve already sensed my entire body, so seeing me with nothing on shouldn’t bother you.”

I stutter, “No…I—”

“I know you did it on purpose, so don’t deny it. If you do that stuff to sensor types, you cause chemicals to rage in the body. We almost kissed.”

“No we didn’t.”

“Yes we did, and I wasn’t happy with it either. Each barcode’s connected to one of the senses. People with tattoos near their ears can hear better. Those with markings near their mouths have an enhanced sense of taste. I hear there’s even a boy from Northern California that can process chemicals in his mouth better than MIBS squared.”

“I know all of this. Get to the point.”

“You and I have an enhanced sense of touch. I don’t know the size of your tattoo, but it must be huge because it’s so easy to read.”

She’s right. The cross hidden under my bandages is massive. Doctors debated for weeks whether I’m the first god with layered tattoos. My uncle once mentioned that this was true, which makes my barcode illegal. Yet, the examining doctor was found dead within a week and never reported the results to the police.

Barcodes that are too large are illegal for many reasons. Every god or demigod with large tattoos in the past turned evil and slaughtered entire villages. Conspiracy theories suggest that the government wants to control the amount of power in the world. No Senator wants their segment of America to be overthrown by one man or woman.

“So what? My barcode’s big. That doesn’t mean I can read minds or levitate.”

“You can’t levitate, but you and I should share a connection because our barcodes act like spirits linking us to the universe.”

I flash my tattoo because I’m frustrated with her explanation. That’s what I normally do when I’m angry. And I don’t understand any of this.

Activating barcodes requires concentration and energy, but after practicing, like many gladiators have, it just stings a bit before we experience a sensation in the data. Chills normally run down my spine. It is a bit erotic, I’ll admit that. But I don’t see the harm.

Michelle blushes and shuffles like she has to pee before shouting, “Will you stop doing that! That’s your damn problem.”

“Stop what?”

“Activating your power! You can’t control your codes yet so you set off my…umm...” Michelle trails off. “Well you set something off in me and other girls. I can see it on their faces.”

Laughing, I say, “What are you talking about? Tell me what I’m doing and I’ll stop.” Her barcodes shine brightly. “Why are you activating yours?”

“I can practically feel people’s bodies when my codes are active. It helps me feel like I’m one with the world.” She sits on my bed while seductively squeezing her legs. “I can see you now.”

“Meaning you can sense my body under my clothes? Turn them off.”

“No. I use them every morning. It’s the best part of my day. I can’t do this at school unless no one’s watching. It’s a spiritual rush, like when you shape MIBS.”

I’ve never transmuted using MIBS before. Maybe that’s why I can’t feel what she does.

“Stop using your tats,” I bark while slamming the door to the bathroom.

When I’m done with my shower, I hear the clerk drop off Michelle’s armor and compliment her towel. She candidly thanks him.
The girl isn’t normal. Just because she can sense everyone’s bare bodies doesn’t mean she should answer the door indecently.

I give Michelle enough time to dress before leaving the bathroom. I didn’t realize that I’d need to walk out in a towel as well. I’m very used to being alone and getting dressed in my bedroom.

When I exit the bathroom, Michelle’s still dressed in a towel and walking towards me. Her feisty personality returns, and to my surprise, her aggression makes me slightly miss the soft alluring little girl. “Let’s start.”

“Start what?”

“I said I’d teach you how to control your senses.”

“No. We’re dressed in towels.”

“So? Our skin has to touch to do it. You need to be able to discern between a real body and a presence.”

“No!” I shout while running back into the bathroom.

I try to slam the door, but she forces it open with a powerful kick before charging in. Michelle fights to remove my towel, and I struggle against her. In the process, her linen drops, and I’m staring at her bare back.

“Let go you freak.”

“No. I have to do this.” She fights harder for the knot before shouting, “What the hell is up with you and this military knot?”

“It’s a natural habit; now let me go,” I blurt with my tattoos raging underneath my bandages. I forcefully push her away and she tumbles to the floor. Before I can respond with any strategy, Michelle leaps up. Her barcodes radiate brightly, and her body’s controlling my eyes.

I’ve heard that parents typically teach their kids how to control their senses at a young age by doing this same thing. Part of me is excited that someone would attempt to show me how to utilize my own power. Yet, what utterly irritates me is how unbelievably attractive my nemesis looks and the internal battle happening between my brain and eyes. The brain says, don’t even glimpse, but the eyes ignore. They’re currently in a full on staring contest with her hips.

Michelle rages towards me, and I use the barcode powering my right arm to knock her away again.

Dashing out of the bathroom, I spring towards the bedroom door, but Michelle kicks a shelf at me that smashes against the wall. I need a new plan. Fearful of the larger shelf violently zooming towards me, I spring back towards my bed, which only makes the situation worse.

Michelle is still near the bathroom holding one of my gaming systems. It’s a virtual headpiece that I use when I’m feeling lazy and don’t want to move around much. She can crush that one. It gives me worse headaches than the 3D room.

She’s standing near my open blinds breathing steadily. I watch as her eyes trace my room. She’s just noticed my lack of everything.

At most, I knew I wanted my room painted black. It’s not an emo thing, but games project better on dark surfaces. Otherwise, even my neatly wrapped bed, made of Colt Stone from leftover pieces of the arena, is a tad simple. At least it has a history. The frame was passed down to all the strongest warriors in the Colt family. In other words, nerds weren’t allowed to sleep on it.

“Stop looking at my stuff.”

“What stuff?” she mumbles.

Damn. I knew she noticed.

There are no books or model cars on my shelves. My clothes are nicely tucked in my closet. It really looks like an eloquently militant room. Plain.

The warrior princess refocuses on her target and flashes the codes on her legs to increase the spring in her dash. The remarkable speed makes me wonder how fast she’d travel with Moreno boots that enhance agility.

As she kicks at my waist, I bend backwards and barely dodge the blow. I didn’t realize she was aiming for the knot, which shreds effortlessly under the power of her tattoo.

Now, we’re both exposed.

“You’re staring,”

“Sorry. Sorry. Let’s go,” she says while advancing cautiously.

“You said you were used to it.”

“It’s different in person sometimes. Seeing and feeling are different. Okay? Whatever, let’s do this.”

“No. Especially not after you say it like that.”

Michelle kicks the air and a gust of wind lifts me from my feet. She speeds behind and catches me before I land on the bed. I decide to give in. We’re already this close.

Interlocking her legs with mine and pressing her lips against my neck, she holds me tightly enough to draw me into her warmth.

“Why are you taking this so seriously?” I ask when her kiss delivers sensations that I’ve never experienced.

“Just relax.”

“Tell me or I won’t,” I blurt.

“Data can omit chemicals, like pheromones. If you can’t learn to control how you turn a girl on, you’ll make me do something that’ll hurt my best friend. So shut up and let me finish. It’ll take longer because of the bandages.”

The ceremonial bandages were given to me from a ring passed down to our family from a prophet known as Talib. Vincent currently protects the power. It’s known as the Seal of Solomon. Once my uncle placed his hand on my head, the ring wrapped my upper body. The process was so excruciating I couldn’t move for weeks.

Though the connection between our bodies isn’t as intense near the bandages, I am experiencing overwhelming pleasure.

I struggle to remain still with Michelle’s heart beating heavily on my spine. I’ve never shared such an intimate moment with anyone.

She pleasures me by lightly sliding her nails across my skin and licking my neck. It nearly turns into a make out session for her, and something much more erotic for me. Before I’m fully aroused, she grips my arm tightly and says, “Now for the pain portion. Try not to move.”

Michelle viciously bites my neck and digs her nails deep into my arms. Once she pushes her knuckles into my spine, I nearly black out, but after an excruciating minute, she stops.

That’s when I feel a rush of data swarm through my tattoo. Michelle’s data is connecting with mine. It programs my power. The transfer of information from her tattoos to mine feels soothing like when uploading a book through our barcodes.

During the pleasure and pain exercise, she shared her data with me to increase my awareness of the world. Though I still don’t have much control of the ability, I definitely have a better understanding of our sense of touch.

Gracefully, Michelle walks into the living room and begins dressing in her armor. From the distance she shouts, “You’ll be able to move in a bit, but see if you can sense my boots.

Like a little wimpy boy I cry, “I can.”

“What about the rest?”

Blushing, I assert, “I can sense
that
too.”

“Good. Now, try not to notice my body. Focus on something really intensively.” I naturally turn my eyes to watch her dress. I’m almost sure her entire body flushes red.

The softness returns as she gushes, “You have to use something else so you can ignore me.” Assuming I can’t hear her, she mumbles, “It is flattering though.”

While staring at my games, I begin thinking of all the fun I haven’t had by myself. They help bypass the time, but fighting in a room with my arch enemy brings more joy than being alone.

“I’m sorry,” she says as though she were reading my thoughts.

That’s when I realize I can’t feel her presence.

“How’d that work?”

“Once your codes learn the difference between a body and data, it’s really easy to control. I’m sorry your Dennis never showed you, but luckily for you, the bandages repressed your urges to sense your surroundings. I guess they’re getting weaker and aren’t able to restrict your powers as much.” She returns fully dressed, and says, “You should be able to move now.”

I slowly sit up, finally understanding why she didn’t think being undressed was such a big deal. After placing on my armor, I walk to the side of my bed and pick up several gifts.

I notice a huge square on my carpet where it seems someone removed a heavy box recently, but I ignore it. With all the people working in this building, there is never any telling what comes into my room.

“What are those?” Michelle asks lightly.

“Birthday gifts.”

“But I thought you didn’t like birthdays.”

“I never said that.”

Michelle faintly murmurs, “I knew it.” I’m not sure if I’m hearing her or reading her thoughts, but the words were clear enough to understand. After opening each of my gifts, I collect the paper and throw them away. Michelle watches patiently, and seems a bit disappointed at my lack of excitement.

“Who gave you all of these?”

“One’s from Hayley. She gave me a gift card to buy the Playstation XD I told her I wanted. The 6D in my game room gives me headaches so I…” I trail off. Games are all I have in life. If I begin complaining about my systems, we’ll be here all day. “Anyway, my grandad got me the Google UV.”

I hold up a transparent phone that looks like a block of glass tinted green. Then, I slide my hand over the surface. Colors rush to the screen and Indian drums boom through the speakers. A light scans my face before a cartooned version of me stumbles across the screen. It falls and begins rolling down the display. I hold the phone horizontally and he stands up before dusting himself off.

The avatar and I wave at each other. “I should probably take this to the office and activate it. It has a better hologram projector.”

“What about that one?”

“Chocolate. I’ve gotten a package like this ever since I started at the academy. It always comes with a prayer written for me, which is sweet, and some very rare chocolate,” I say before biting a piece.

Michelle steals one and croons, “Oh. That’s good.”

“I know. This chocolate is amazing. I don’t know who it comes from, but it’s really nice. It’s the only gift I ever receive from anyone besides Hayley or Casey.”

“Why?”

“People don’t know what to get
the great Apollo 
that can buy whatever he wants. Anyway, we should take off. We’re already an hour behind.”

As we exit the apartment, I ask a burning question, “Did you always bite me to control my powers?”