Sun Rose (Rose of the Dawn Series Book 1) (5 page)

“She
did?”

“Days
before you were admitted, Hara had been told to prepare your room. Were your
parents planning anything for themselves?”

“Not
that I know of,” I rack my brain. I don’t think Dory would voluntarily go under
the knife if she didn’t need to. The room wouldn’t be set up for her.

“I
dunno either. When Hara gets here, we’ll be able to piece things together a bit
better.”

“Nurse
Hara’s coming here?” My words are sharp.
Am I jealous? Where is this feeling
coming from?
My headache is returning.

“Yeah,
she lives here, too.” Pike steps outside the room.

“Isn’t
it kind of a far commute?” Knowing how long we traveled this morning, I find
selfish joy at the thought of her coming and going from here to the hospital.
It must take hours a day.

“We
took the long way here. We’ve only moved up a zone,” Pike offers.

“The
Surreal Zone,” I say. It’s the zone farthest north.

Pike
nods and smiles. “We’re only about six miles away from your home.”

“Knock
knock.” Someone says outside my door.

“Come
in.” I don’t know how much time has passed, but if I had to guess, I’d say
about an hour and a half, two hours, but it could be more. I blew the candle out
as to not waste it. It’s dark. The nightlight is solar powered and there is no
natural light in here to recharge it.

The
door opens, bathing the room in diffused sunlight.

“You
ready for a tour?” Pike is wearing black cargo pants this time and another black
T-shirt. He smells good. Clean. Like lemongrass and linen. I inhale and hold my
breath. I wish I had a change of clothes. I wish I smelled so good.

We
walk into the common space together. It’s as bright as it was before and there
are people. More people. I didn’t notice anyone earlier.

“JJ,
Patience,” Pike waves two teenagers over. As I look around, the only people I
see are our age. Maybe a little older, a little younger. The two people wave
back and we approach them.

“Rosamund,
this is James Jameson –”

“JJ,”
he extends a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rosamund.”

“And
you,” I smile. “And it’s Rose.” His handshake is firm and he’s as tall as I am,
making Pike look much taller. His light features are in stark contrast with
Pike’s, too.

“And
this is Patience,” Pike shifts my attention to a beautiful girl, frail and waif-like.
She looks like a fairy in a long, thin, layered skirt and silky tank top. Not
the same clothes as everyone else.

“Rosamund.
What a pretty name.” Patience’s skin is almost translucent. Her hair as white
as snow. If she hasn’t been completely AR’d, she must be one of those albinos.
The ones whose genetic mutations became the most sought-after DNA sequences.
They’re all so pretty.

“Thank
you, Patience,” I say. “I like yours, too.”

“My
parents named me after one of the first virtues lost with the artificial
replacements. No need for patience any more. It became all about not growing
old and instant gratification. I guess they knew that if I were in this world
and was around for a while, there would always be a little patience somewhere.”

I
can’t help but smile. She’s sweet in an innocent kind of way.

“Are
your parents–” I begin.

“AR’d?
Alive? Yes and no,” Patience pauses and I don’t press her for any more information.
She offers it, though, “they had an enhanced genetic code. Two out of millions.
Billions. That they met each other in the first place was nearly impossible,
but despite their genetic qualities that allowed them to regenerate and heal,
they were forced to undergo artificial replacements to show that they were just
like everyone else. ARs go wrong. It happens. It’s unfortunate that it had to
happen to such amazing people.”

Patience
is less sympathic and more robotic.
Does she have any natural feelings?
I would probably be sad if I found out my parents died. Or maybe I wouldn’t.

Pike
takes the liberty to interrupt Patience, “we’re all self-sufficient here. Most
of us are native humans.”

“Native
humans?” I ask.

“Yeah,
native or natural. Natural humans. No artificial replacements.” JJ smiles. He
is cute in a boyish kind of way. “Hey, are you hungry?” He takes my arm and
wraps it in his. He’s not wearing the customary fatigues either. He has on
khaki cargo pants and a blue polo shirt, collar up. His hair is short and
spikey. Neat.

“Sure.”
I let him lead me, but I’m not all that hungry even though it’s been days. Or one.
I don’t know. I should be hungry nonetheless. He takes me across the common
area to a small patio with awnings extending out from this inner wall. Both
Pike and Patience fall behind. Pike seems shut off. Angry almost.

“I
bet you’d like to know a bit more about the tests we may be performing.” JJ
pulls out a small stool made of woven jute and I take a seat. He sits beside me
and I wish he had pulled out a chair for Patience. It would be less awkward. She
and Pike sit across from us.

Another
girl comes over with a plate of salad greens and what looks like a sandwich.
She places it down in front of me. She smiles at JJ and he returns the gesture.
Any appetite I may have had disappears with my smile. This doesn’t look like
anything I would have had cooked for me at home.

“Thank
you.” The sandwich bread is green and the contents are green, too. “What is
it?”

“It’s
a kale-pureed, whole grain, stone-ground bread and a spinach, Brussels sprout,
broccoli, sunflower paste. Unless you prefer wheatgrass, it’s pretty good,” JJ
says.

“If
you’re hungry,” Pike mutters and looks away.

“It’s
not mold, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Patience tells me and I smile my
gratitude. It’s exactly what I was thinking. I take a bite. The consistency is squishier
than I expected, but the veggie paste sticks to the roof of my mouth like
peanut butter. I hope it makes the wincing less noticeable.

“It’s
good, huh?” Patience smiles and I nod.

“It’s
filling,” I say before taking another bite. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep
it down and my audience’s interest is a bit intense.

“You
don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. No one will be offended.” Pike isn’t
even facing me. His arms are crossed as he looks out into the common area.

“I
thought I’d find you here.” A woman puts her arms around Pike’s neck and kisses
his cheek. It takes me a minute to process who she is.

Nurse
Hara.

“Here,
take a seat,” he offers her his chair. As she sits, she looks up at him and
whispers a thank you. She isn’t dressed like a nurse. She wears the same
clothes as me, but she looks clean and put together.

“Hara,
you would be the best person to explain to Rosamund exactly what we need to
do.” JJ takes a bite of my sandwich. I push it toward him.

“Hi,
Rosamund.” Hara’s black hair is down and it falls gently over her shoulders.
She flips it back and I see short manicured nails and soft, unblemished skin.
Everything about her is flawless. I didn’t notice her being so beautiful in the
hospital. It must be the clothes.

“Hello,”
I mutter. I don’t know what else to say.

“Let
me start,” JJ moves a book from his lap to the table. He scoots his chair even
closer to mine and our knees touch. I move mine away, and he moves closer
again. I lean back without making it too obvious. I don’t know him. “Like our
parents there are these people, unlike regular people, with genetic qualities
that are superior to any natural human being. Unlike most of us.”

He
looks at everyone around the table except for me.

“Unlike
me though, why? I’m just like everybody else.” Is this about money? Or
is it about the disparity between those who have it and those who don’t?

“A
person is considered a natural human,” Pike re-affirms. “Only if they haven’t
been altered.”

“I
haven’t been altered.”

Patience
is the only one still smiling at me.

Hara
continues, “for the most part, all of our organs work like regular organs. They
help us breathe air, release gas, pump oxygen, process sugars, breakdown fats,
and produce wastes. All of us, including you.”

I
don’t understand why they are treating me so different.
Where is this going?

“And
while these organs work or don’t work, depending–” Hara continues.

I
nod. My liver is the problem. I get it.

“We
can give things away like our blood and marrow, tissues, and certain organs
like a kidney or a lung,” she finishes.

“But
other things are regenerative,” JJ leans on the table. “Your liver, for
instance.”

“Yes,
I know that, but so what? Everyone’s liver regenerates. So does skin. What
makes mine so special?” I ask. I sound testy.

“Not
everyone is as regenerative as you–” Hara retakes the conversation. I haven’t
decided if I like her. I know that I don’t hate her. I have no reason to. “No
one here has the capabilities your body may have. They’ve all been tested.”

I
look around at all of the apparently average people filling in the empty spaces
of Aegis.

“Your
lab results came in days before you were admitted to the hospital and there was
something that raised red flags. Something out of the ordinary.” She shifts in her
seat.

“What?
I didn’t have any lab work done. I hadn’t seen Dr. Rush in forever.” My head
spins. The entire tower gets dark and cold. I shiver. I look up from my hands.

“A
satellite is just passing over,” Patience comments. It’s either really large or
really close. “It blocks the sun for a fraction of a second and then it’ll get
warm again.” Patience takes my hands and rubs them. They are warm.

“Someone
got your genetic-type to the hospital. I don’t think that Dr. Rush was involved,”
Hara talks despite the shift in attention. “The results showed something special.
I’ve committed it to my memory. I can see why your father was pushing for such
a quick liver replacement.”

“Why?”
I don’t understand.

“Because
not only is your liver regenerative, but so are the rest of your organs. Your
heart and stomach – you are very powerful,” she says.

“You
may be the most powerful,” JJ speaks up. “And with some tests we may find out
your entire regrowth potential.”

Hara’s
chair grates on the bamboo floor as she gets up. Pike paces, wearing a path in
the dirt. I couldn’t before, but now I can smell the sheep pen. My mouth tastes
hay.

“How
can my organs regenerate and if that’s the case, why would my father want them
replaced with artificial ones?”

“We
didn’t think it was possible for that kind of regeneration,” Hara says. “But we
knew we had to get you here and keep you safe. So we could see for ourselves.”

“Before
anyone did anything to ruin you,” JJ adds.

“But
what about organ failure? I mean, isn’t that what was going on when I got
hospitalized? I’m confused.”

“Do
we know if that’s definitely true, Hara?” JJ asks.

“Sabotage,”
Patience whispers.

“Someone
would really cause organ failure to prove a point?” I am astonished.

“Not
to prove a point,” JJ clarifies.

“To
keep her alive,” Pike says. “AR surgery would’ve at least kept you human and
not an organ farm.” Pike raises his voice. At me. Now I understand. My father
had a plan. AR-ing me would protect me. Even if Pike doesn’t agree with it, he
must understand it, too. “If people were less hasty and even less
information-driven, we might not need all of these artificial replacements,” he
adds.

“We’d
need to conduct our own tests to be sure.” Hara looks at Pike with trepidation.
He’s lost in his thoughts. He doesn’t look at anyone, but stares into space.

“We
can talk about those specific tests at a later time, of course.” JJ pats my
back, his hand lingering a little too long. I squirm. No one notices.

“Listen,
it’s been a long day,” Pike says. “I still need to find Zeke. C’mon,” he waves
to me and I get up, though my departure seems awkward with everyone staring at
us, including Hara.

“Bye,
Rose!” Patience calls. “See you later!” Her exuberance strikes me as strange
because I don’t know her, though polite. JJ smiles and Hara’s already looking
away. Pike leads and I follow.

“Where
is Ezekiel?” I say once out of earshot. I’m not happy to be seeking him out
because I know he doesn’t like me as much as I don’t like him.

“We
don’t need to talk to him; I just said that to get out of there. You looked
like you did, too.” He looks me up and down.

He
noticed.

“So
how long have you all been here? Together,” I ask. “Everyone is so young.”

Of
all the people we pass, no one looks much older than Pike. No one looks up,
either. Everyone’s too busy working. Except for two girls who, across the
common area, seem to be arguing in whispers. Their bodies positioned in such a
way that raises the negative energy just enough to be perceptible. They notice
me staring and both stand upright and move away in different directions.

We
cross the courtyard, walk down a bright, airy corridor to a conservatory lined
with benches, filled with plants. Lush and bright green. Wildflowers are
everywhere, too. A black and blue butterfly lands on my shoulder. Its proboscis
feeling my shirt for nectar.

“Zeke
is the oldest natural human here. He’s 25. JJ and Patience are siblings. He’s
22 and she’s 18. We think they’re natural, but no one is really sure. They’ve
never admitted to not being natural.”

“I
would never have guessed they were related,” I say, though I’m more surprised that
Patience is eighteen. She acts younger. They don’t look alike either.

Pike
still walks ahead of me, around the inside perimeter of the conservatory, not
offering any more information. The butterfly flits away, not finding what it
was looking for, my shirt not providing it the nutrition it deserves or
requires.

“What
about Hara?”

“What
about Hara?” Pike stops short and I bump into him.

“Sorry.
Um, who is she? What’s her story?” The words come out of my mouth before I have
a chance to think about what I’m saying. I’m really just confused. I haven’t
had enough practice with this sort of conversation.

We
leave the conservatory. I like it here. Jenny would like it here, too. The living
greenness is comforting like my space at home. Everywhere else in our house, my
mother only kept only silk flowers and fake plants. They weren’t as much
maintenance as the real thing and it gave her more time to worry about herself.
Our conservatory was manicured regularly, but this place is a self-sufficient,
living terrarium.

“She’s
29. We’ve known each other a while. There’s no story,” he answers despite my
intrusion.

So
she has been AR’d.

“Is
she your girlfriend? She was angry back there.” We walk back down the hallway. The
paint on the walls is a light green closer to the conservatory and it gets
darker as we get closer to the center of the building.

“What
gives you that idea?” He turns. We approach the common area again, busy with
people. The two arguing girls have gotten back on-task. Pike doesn’t want me to
answer. I shrug.

Nothing.

Everything.