The Bar Code Prophecy (2 page)

The Bullit-Bus glided to a stop right in front of the eight-foot wall surrounding the sprawling GlobalHelix facility. Grace dug for her Global-1 ID badge while exiting the bus. Because she didn’t yet have a bar code tattoo, she rested her chin on a metal plate built into the wall while a red laser scanned her eye for an identity check. When it had verified that she was, in fact, Grace Morrow, receptionist, a gap in the wall appeared as a security door slid open to admit her.

Glancing up at the huge metal sculpture on the roof — a twisting ladder representing the shape of human DNA, the double helix — she smiled. Birds were perched on its rungs. It amused her that this imposing structure had become an avian perch.

The building housing GlobalHelix might be as creepy as people claimed, but Grace didn’t see that — instead she saw how impressively final-level their technology was. They were always on the cutting edge of innovation. And now they were on their game more strongly than ever. Especially since Decode members had attacked the headquarters — hacking the computers and ramming right through the front wall with a tractor trailer — last October. Within days the wall had been rebuilt and was now fortified to withstand anything. Even bombs.

Grace had a hard time reconciling Decode’s idea of attackers, vigilantes, and terrorists with the calm, measured face on the message Eric had given her. But the reality was that Decode wanted to bring this whole place down. And they’d bring her and her father down with it, if they had an opportunity. She had to remember that.

Once the whisper-quiet front doors closed behind her, it was a short walk to Grace’s station behind the long, curved, marble front desk. She greeted Terri Lin, the elegant woman she was replacing. “Your father was looking for you,” Terri told Grace as she lifted her purse from beneath the desk. “He’s working on the tenth subfloor now. At least, he was an hour ago.”

“Thanks. I’ll buzz him in a minute,” Grace said, sliding into the springy titanium desk chair Terri had just evacuated. “Did he say what he wanted?”

Terri shrugged. “Nope.”

“Okay.”

The sun slanted across the marble floor, filtering in through the large windows at the top of the ceiling. The dimensions of the GlobalHelix building always made Grace feel so tiny. She imagined it was how a mouse or even an ant might feel running along the baseboards of a room. Glancing around the huge lobby of steel and glass, Grace wondered if that was Global-1’s goal — to make everyone who entered feel small and unimportant. If it was what they intended, they were excellent at accomplishing it. But it was okay by her. Grace didn’t mind being part of something substantial and powerful. In a way, it was even comforting to belong to something larger than herself.

Shivering, Grace pulled her lightweight black cardigan from her tote. The central air was on especially high today.

A tall, silver-haired man with vigorous stride and dignified bearing came through the front door and approached Grace. His blue summer suit was crisp. Dr. Jonathan Harriman was like a celebrity at Global-1. Everyone knew that the distinguished Australian gentleman had invented the first bar code tattoos.

“Hello, Dr. Harriman,” Grace greeted as she checked the built-in computer monitor. “There are no messages for you yet today.”

Dr. Harriman studied her with his intense ice blue eyes. Grace felt as though he was inspecting her for some sign that she might be deceiving him about something. What it might be, she couldn’t imagine. “Thank you, Grace,” Dr. Harriman said, walking toward the special executive elevators reserved for the top Global-1 employees.

He knew her name, anyway. That was more than any of the other execs here at Global-1 did.

Once Dr. Harriman had disappeared into the elevator, she glanced at the flexible droid cell phone wrapped around her wrist. Quickly unpeeling it, she flattened it on her desk. Since the bar code tattoo scandal broke, some people acted as though all nanotechnology was sinister, but they didn’t stop to realize that nanotech made final-level stuff like these flexifones possible. She tapped in the GlobalHelix number plus the extension for her father’s phone.

“Sorry, I can’t find your dad,” a pleasant female voice said.

“Thanks, Tilly,” Grace said, hitting the
END
button. Of course she knew Tilly was just a robotic voice inserted in her phone’s Brilliant chip but they spoke so often that Tilly was a part of her life. Whoever had programmed the Brilliant Bot, as the droid voices were called, had made it incredibly lifelike.

If her father was indeed on the tenth subfloor, the phone signal wouldn’t reach him. She’d have to use the internal GlobalHelix phone system. But before she could ask the secretary there to contact him, her father turned the corner from the bank of general employee elevators.

“Dad, I was just trying to get hold of you,” Grace told him.

Albert Morrow nodded and squeaked out a tight smile, but something told her he was unhappy. “Mom says you went climbing again this morning,” he remarked as he brushed some dirt from the pocket of his gray coverall. Grace barely recognized him in any other clothes, since he’d been working here for as long as she’d been alive.

“I got all the way up the intermediate wall,” Grace replied, trying to sound as though she didn’t have a good idea where this conversation was headed. “Eric, this guy who works there, says he’s never seen anyone advance as fast. He’s training for the Olympics in ’28.”

“That’s great, but I thought we said you were going to save all your summer money. You want to go to college, don’t you?”

“Climbing doesn’t cost that much.”

“Grace … come on. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know … I know,” she admitted. Grace’s family had been hit hard by the bar code tattoo. Her father had been next in line to head the entire West Coast maintenance division until he was bar coded. Almost instantly afterward, his upward rise was reversed. She’d expected him to be angry about this, but instead he’d resigned himself to it. “Survival of the fittest,” he’d told her. “And I like being my own man. I’m not management material. Global-1 knows what it’s doing.” Rheumatoid arthritis ran in his family line and his bar code showed he had the gene for it. In the wake of the bar code tattoo scandal, the government had ordered all contents of the bar code tattoos to be revealed. But the knowledge that the lines of the bar code tattoo contained each person’s unique genetic code didn’t restore jobs or reverse any decisions made because of the tattoo.

Not wanting to pick a fight over money with her father, Grace attempted a compromise. “How about if I go climbing less often?”

“How about you don’t go at all?” her father countered.

“But I love it and it’s the only fun I have. Otherwise I’m here all the time.”

“I know — because I’m here all the time, too. Now with Mom sick, it would just really help if you would save your money.”

“Just twice a week?” Grace pleaded.

“Once a week,” her father said. “Look, Grace, do you want to be on the gymnastics team again this year?”

“Of course I do!” Grace cried. She was team captain this year.

“Well, the bill came yesterday. By the end of August they want the uniform fee and the team travel fee.”

“Can you pay it?” Grace asked nervously.

“I was going to ask you to pitch in half from your summer earnings,” he replied. “You’re not a little kid anymore. It’s time you take some responsibility for your own expenses.”

Grace hung her head, letting her hair fall like a curtain. How she hated this
you have to be more responsible
lecture. She was hearing it more and more every day.

Grace understood that the family was facing hard times. But she couldn’t stand the idea of not being on the gymnastics team — or of giving up rock wall climbing. Once a week would be better than not at all, she supposed.

But it meant she’d only see Eric once a week. Right when something was starting to happen.

“I’ll treat you to a rock wall session for your birthday,” her father added in a conciliatory tone.

Grace smiled at him. “That would be good. A gift card for some rock climbing would be a nice birthday gift, too.”

“We’ll see.” Grace’s father kissed her lightly on the top of her head. “Tell Mom not to count on me for dinner. I’m working a double shift.”

“All right,” Grace said. Her father headed back toward the elevators, and Grace watched him go. When people talked about how evil everyone at Global-1 was, this was not the man they were picturing. But he was just as loyal as any scientist, any administrator.

Working here was a glimpse of the adult world, and Grace wanted to make the most of it. Remembering her birthday, and the tattoo, she hit a button on the panel in front of her.

“Personnel,” a voice spoke out.

Grace leaned toward it. “Hi, this is Grace Morrow at the reception desk. I’m going to be seventeen on Sunday, and I’d like to make an appointment to get a bar code tattoo on Monday when I come back to work. Thanks.”

As Grace waited for her appointment to be confirmed, she picked up the newspaper Terri had left behind and began reading the lead story.

Pasadena Sun

Washington, D.C. — July 8, 2026

“Grace?” her mother called from the kitchen when Grace walked into the house that evening.

“Dad’s working a double,” Grace shouted back, depositing her tote on a chair and fishing her phone from it. Her favorite way to relax before supper was to catch up on the day’s events and gossip with her best friend, Emma.

“I know. He phoned. Also, some boy called for you.”

“On the house phone?” Grace asked. All her friends called her cell number.

“Yes.”

That was strange.

“Who was it?” Grace asked. She wanted it to be Eric. Calling her at home would be another big step.

“I don’t remember his name.”

“Mom!” Grace wailed, throwing her arms wide in frustration.

Grace’s mother appeared in the doorway, seated in the wheelchair she’d been confined to for the last six months. No one could explain the sudden weakness in her legs, no matter how many doctors they consulted.

“Was his name Eric?”

“I’m not sure. Who’s Eric?”

“Nobody. Did he say anything else?”

Her mother produced a Post-It note with a number written on it. “He said to call him.
Who is Eric?
”

“Just a guy I know.”

Grace dashed up the stairs, needing the privacy of her bedroom. “Out! Out!” she shouted at her twelve-year-old sister, Kim, who was lying on the twin bed next to Grace’s, polishing her nails.

“It’s just as much my room as yours,” Kim protested, continuing to apply the silver color.

Sighing deeply, Grace retreated down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sat on the edge of the tub scrutinizing the phone number. It wasn’t a number she knew, which was good; it meant it could still be Eric. But why hadn’t he called her cell?

Because he doesn’t know my number!
she realized. He had obviously looked up her file at the indoor rock climbing center, which listed her home number. Or at least Grace hoped so.

Quickly punching in the phone number, Grace waited only a few seconds before a youthful male voice came on the line, saying, “Speak to me, unknown caller!”

“Eric?” She wasn’t sure why she asked, since she recognized his voice.

“Grace!”

“Yes, it’s me. I got a message to call you.”

“Yeah, great! Sorry to call your house. Now I have your number.”

There was an awkward pause but Grace didn’t care. Eric Chaca had called her!

“So, anyway, here’s the thing,” Eric said after a moment. “A bunch of us who work here got permission to have a kind of climbing party down at the center tonight after it closes.”

“Sounds fun,” Grace remarked, her excitement increasing.

“Do you want to come?”

Grace closed her eyes tight and pumped her fist as she fought not to squeal joyfully out loud. “Is it just for employees?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t reveal that nothing on earth could stop her from going.

“Mostly, but other people are inviting friends, and so I’m inviting you,” Eric replied. “Can you make it? We’re meeting up at ten tonight. I can come by to pick you up if you like.”

“All right. I live at —”

“I’ve got it,” Eric interrupted her. “It’s in your file. I’ll be there at nine-thirty.”

“Great.”

Grace clicked off the call and released the suppressed cry of thrilled excitement.

Someone pounded on the bathroom door. “Hey, what are you doing in there? I have to get in,” her fifteen-year-old brother, James, demanded. Opening the door, Grace smiled into his freckled face. “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

“I’m just naturally a happy person,” Grace replied, sliding past him.

“It’s probably some guy,” James muttered as he entered the bathroom, shutting the door.

Grace was happy to see that Kim had left the room. She shut the door and quickly slid her droid’s screen to
FACE-TO-FACE
and tapped the photo of her best friend, Emma.

“Hologram or screen?” Tilly’s velvety auto-voice inquired.

“Hologram,” Grace replied.

“Eric Chaca just asked me out!” Grace said to Emma the moment her friend’s slightly too-vivid, mildly transparent image appeared, hovering just above Kim’s bed.

“Final level, Grace!” Emma cried, her eyes shining, her short neon green curls bouncing. “He’s only the most final-level boy in school!”

“He is, isn’t he?!” Grace agreed. “I mean, I just can’t believe he called me. Eric Chaca!”

“I know! Eric Chaca! Tell me what he said. Tell me everything!”

After Grace recounted everything that had happened, Emma said, “It’s nice of your parents to let you go out so late and with a guy you don’t know all that well and that they don’t know at all.”

“Hmmm,” Grace hummed nervously.

“You haven’t asked them yet?” Emma guessed.

“Hmmm,” Grace repeated as her stomach clenched anxiously.

“You are going to ask for permission, aren’t you?” Emma checked, anxiety seeping into her tone.

Was she going to ask? Grace wasn’t sure. What if her mother said no? How could she tell Eric no, she wasn’t allowed? It would sound so juvenile. He might never call her again.

“Grace?” Emma checked. “Tell me you’re not going to sneak out.”

“It’s not like I’d be doing something bad.”

“Yes, you would! You’d be sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night.” Emma’s voice was now fully alarmed.

“But not to do anything wrong,” Grace argued.

“I don’t know, Grace. Do you really want to be in huge trouble on your birthday?”

“If I’m careful, I won’t be in
any
trouble at all,” Grace countered.

“Then you had better be awfully careful or it’s going to be one seriously banged-out birthday.”

Grace didn’t mention the Decode message to Emma. It just wasn’t the kind of thing they talked about, so Grace had no idea how she’d react. Rebellion wasn’t a part of their lives. They liked living within the lines, doing the things that would make their parents and their teachers happy. This was probably why Emma was so surprised that Grace was sneaking out.

For her part, Grace was surprised, too — at how easy it was to convince herself to do it.

“Hey,” Emma said as they were about to end the call. “Did you hear there’s a meteor heading toward Earth?”

“I heard about it,” Grace answered. “It’s going to pass us by. They always pass us by, don’t they?”

“That’s true,” Emma agreed. “If a meteor is going to smash into us, I guess there’s no sense worrying about whether or not you get caught going on a secret date.”

“Yeah, but it’s not going to hit us,” Grace reminded her.

“Then maybe you should worry,” Emma allowed.

Grace’s luck was holding. Right after dinner, Kim left for a sleepover at her friend’s house. Then, at eight o’clock, Grace claimed to have a headache and said she was going to her room to read. By nine fifteen, her hair and makeup were the way she wanted and she had on her jeans, silver hoop earrings, best sneakers, and her new lightweight T-shirt.

With pillows and clothing under her blankets to make it look like she was in the bed, Grace reached out her window until she was able to get hold of the branch of an oak near her bedroom. Once she had a firm grip, the rest was easy. Grace had climbed this tree all her life.

At a bottom branch, Grace dropped to the ground. Not even daring to breathe, she kept in the shadows as she made her way to the front of the house. The neighborhood was quiet. Every time a car came up the street, Grace pulled back farther into the darkness, afraid it might be her father returning from work.

Maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, she considered. Her parents would be so disappointed in her if they discovered what she’d done. She should probably phone Eric and cancel. He’d have to understand.

An old black hybrid sports car pulled in front of the house with its top down. The minute Grace saw Eric in the driver’s seat she headed for it, all her reservations forgotten. She returned his smile, thrilled that he seemed delighted to see her.

“Hop in,” he said, pushing the passenger door open.

Grace was relieved when they finally turned the corner away from her house. She’d made it without getting caught.

“It’s nice of your boss to let you use the climbing center after hours,” she told Eric. She couldn’t tell whether her heart was beating from the thrill of escape or the excitement of the destination.

“He’s a good guy. And he approves of what we’re doing,” Eric said.

“What do you mean?” Grace asked. “What are you
doing
besides having a party?”

Eric stuck his chip-sized music player into an opening in the dashboard and loud rock music instantly blared, making it impossible to talk further. When they were about five blocks from the climbing center, he switched the music off and parked. “Let’s do the rest on foot. It will look suspicious if there are a lot of cars in the parking lot.”

“I thought you were allowed to be there,” Grace said, suddenly nervous.

She took a long, hard look at Eric. How much did she really know about him? The climbing prowess, of course. She knew his parents were Native American and lived in a development across town. She knew he believed in Decode and didn’t like Global-1. Other than that … there wasn’t much. She was taking the way she felt about him on faith, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think this was a safe way to judge a person.

“The owner knows we’re there, but the Global-1 cops don’t,” Eric explained.

This didn’t make her feel much better.

“Global-1 cops?” she asked. “Why do you …?” Grace let her voice trail off and hurried to keep up with Eric, who was moving quickly ahead of her.

She didn’t want to turn back, but she was much more cautious about going forward. The fact that they were hiding from Global-1 police couldn’t mean anything good. If she wound up in trouble with the police her parents would never forgive her. She might lose her job. What would it do to her chances to go to college?

Why had she done this? Maybe she could catch a Bullit-Bus back home.

Sensing this, Eric slowed down and turned to her.

“I see something in you,” he told her, not meeting her eyes.

What did he see?

Because of the way he was not looking at her, Grace felt he wasn’t being evasive, just bashful again. How odd to think that she, nobody Grace, could make a high school superstar like Eric shy.

“I’ve seen it in the way you climb,” Eric went on. “Nowadays, you can tell the people who have a capacity for truth and the people who don’t. You,” he said, finally matching her gaze, “have a capacity for truth.”

“How can you tell something like that?” Grace asked. She wasn’t fishing for a compliment. His words mystified her.

“I don’t know.” Eric lifted his chin and seemed to be trying to find the words he needed. “I think it’s in your eyes. They’re clear and direct.” He smiled. “Not to mention beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Grace murmured.

“I see it in the way you climb, too,” Eric added. “You’re physically strong, and once you see where you need to go you head straight for it. Not everyone is like that. They doubt what their gut is telling them so they fumble and slip, but you trust your inner truth. Inside, you’re strong. You have a real center, a core.”

“I hope that’s all true,” Grace said, flattered.

“I know I’m right,” Eric said. “You can handle truth.”

It shocked Grace that Eric had given her that much thought. If they were at the movies or in the cafeteria, his words would have delighted her beyond measure. But they weren’t at a Cineplex or in school. They were standing outside the supposedly closed climbing center in the dark, worrying about Global-1 police seeing them.

What truth was he going to reveal? What was it he was so certain she could handle?

And even if she could handle it, did she want to?

Grace’s gut clenched and she had the feeling her life was about to change, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.