Wired (11 page)

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Authors: Francine Pascal

BOOK: Wired
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She was sitting in the
gutter
.

Literally, the gutter. Her pants were torn at the knee, and the skin visible through the frayed cloth glistened wetly with sticky blood. Her palms were caked with dirt. Tangled snarls of hair curled around her face where they'd fallen loose from her ponytail.

She'd been passed out in the
gutter
, for chrissake. Like some crack addict who didn't even know what day it was. Was
that
bravery?

Gaia shivered. She looked at her watch and saw that it was later than she'd even first thought. She'd been out cold for at least an hour. An hour that she'd been lying in the gutter, helpless, practically begging to
be jumped, mugged, raped, dismembered…. She hugged her arms to her chest, lost in thought.

She was going to have to find a balance. She was relieved, on a certain level, to discover that even in the face of true terror, she was capable of bravery and low-level heroism. The fact that she was able to rationalize through the fear and kick ass was not insignificant. But she would be putting herself in danger, time and again, if she didn't learn to manage the exertion, to get herself to safety. Teenage girls couldn't go passing out in the gutters of New York, she knew. This was a fundamental truism.

She saw a dark spot hit the pavement in front of her before she realized she was crying. She pressed her palms into her eye sockets and willed herself to stop. This was, what, the second? third? crying fit today. That she even had to think back and count was a serious problem.

She rummaged through her messenger bag in search of a tissue, knowing it was a futile effort. She wasn't a portable-pack-of-Kleenex type of girl—which was funny since lately she
was
the prone-to-random-fits-of-crying type of girl. Her fingers brushed against her cell phone, buried deep within the recesses of the bag, and she paused.

Liz
. She wasn't totally sure whether or not she could or should give Liz a call. True, Liz had been totally normal with her this afternoon at school, so
she was
probably
over Gaia's weird behavior at her father's party. But
probably
still left room for self-doubt, which Gaia seemed to have in spades these days. Still, she wasn't ready to go back to the boarding-house, that was for sure. So she wouldn't even call Liz, then, she'd just go by and see. Surprise Liz.

Seeking out company—seeking out comfort when shaken or stressed—this was the normal reaction to being upset. Gaia was glad she recognized that. Suddenly stopping by Liz's apartment just to say hi seemed like a very regular-girl thing to do, and Gaia was going to act on this unexpectedly normal impulse. She didn't need to collapse in Liz's arms in disarray or even to tell Liz what she had been up to these last few fun-filled hours—though Liz might, of course, wonder why she was so banged up—but that wasn't even why she was going to head over. She just wanted to hang out for a bit, relax, unwind, and perhaps consume obscene quantities of junk food with her girlfriend. Something of the cookie-dough variety, she supposed.

And if her girlfriend's cute, wise, and attractively confident older brother happened to be home as well, Gaia was willing to endure his company. She didn't mind.

She didn't mind one bit.

sloppy

far more interested in costly electronics

Tricked Out 007

THERESA'S WASN'T THE TYPE OF diner that did a brisk business on a weekday after school. The space was clean enough, with a bright, French door facade the staff kept propped open during all but the most humid days of summer, and the menu was typical diner fare and extensive. But it had no cachet—there was nothing to distinguish it in a neighborhood where each new restaurant that opened had a hook more opulent and unexpected than the next. It was populated but by no means bustling. Completely nondescript. Which was, of course, what made it a desirable meeting place by Oliver's standards.

He'd been waiting for Jake for nearly ten minutes now, nursing a muddy cup of coffee and tapping his fingers against the tabletop. He glanced again at his watch, displeased. Twelve minutes and counting.

Jake's tardiness was disappointing. Oliver needed the boy to be impeccably reliable, to be on the ball and ready for whatever information he had most recently uncovered. The boy was immensely eager and ready to take on even the most mundane tasks with aplomb, and as Gaia's boyfriend, he had unparalleled surveillance access, but if that wasn't the case, Oliver wasn't sure Jake would be long for this assignment.

He knew that to some, tardiness was a
negligible issue. But it wasn't negligible to him. He had important information to share today—he was finally ready to pass along at least the crux of his theory to the boy—and he wasn't prepared to deal with any uncertainty or dithering. With each moment that ticked by, Oliver's impatience increased.

The waitress, a chubby, weary-looking blond with a thin growth of hair above her upper lip, reached over to refill his coffee. He flattened the palm of his hand over the rim of the mug, cutting her off. It would take more than a refresh to save this cup of diesel fuel.

“Sorry I'm late,” Jake gasped, sliding into the seat across the table and grinning. He didn't look especially sorry. “Subway. Freaking track fire.”

Oliver didn't crack a smile. “Don't let it happen again.”

Jake returned his gaze evenly.

Oliver did have to admit to himself that the boy's confidence was impressive—albeit in this case foolish. He paused, drawing out the importance of the information he had to offer. “Gaia was in a fight this afternoon.”

Jake's eyes widened, but he certainly wasn't hysterical. This was Gaia, after all. Half the reason he'd even fallen for her was because of how ridiculously physically capable she was. Hardly a day went by that she
didn't
kick ass. “Yeah? So? Gaia fights all the time. What was so special about this one?”

“She passed out afterward.”

This, too, came as no surprise to Jake and wasn't a cause for concern. He had seen her pass out several times, and she always came out of it quickly enough. It was the price she paid for her superhuman Strength, he knew. “Did something else happen?” he asked, a slight tinge of impatience creeping into his voice.

Oliver cleared his throat, unimpressed with Jake's challenging tone. “She passed out afterward,” he continued, “and spent the better part of two hours in a gutter, utterly vulnerable.”

That got Jake's attention. “Two
hours?
And you didn't help her?” he demanded, eyes narrowing.

Oliver shook his head shortly. “She didn't require any help. She was on a residential side street and was left to herself. Had I intervened, she would have, of course, been tipped off to our surveillance. This is not what we want. Rest assured, though, that had she been in danger, she would have been well protected.”

Jake nodded. He might be cocky, but he was also bright enough to know that Oliver meant what he said. If he said he'd have jumped in to help Gaia if necessary, then Jake knew that to be true. So he wasn't really sure what the issue was. “So what now?” he asked, toying with a sugar packet.

“You've been keeping a close eye on Gaia? On her habits, her friends, her moods, et cetera? Correct?”

“Yes, correct” Jake confirmed quickly.

“And Gaia has been more emotional than usual of late, correct?”

“Also true,” Jake said, nodding. “What do you think it is?”

Oliver inhaled deeply. He seemed to be considering how much to say to Jake. “My boy,” he began slowly, ceremoniously, “as Gaia's boyfriend, you've no doubt noticed that she is, as a rule, exceptionally brave. Always jumping into the fray, always seeking out trouble, looking to help out those weaker than herself.”

“Yeah, that's Gaia.” Jake grinned.

“What you may not have realized is that Gaia's take-no-prisoners attitude is more than just a personality trait”

Jake squirmed in his chair, his face a wash of confusion. “What are you saying?”

“It's possible,” Oliver said, hedging slightly, running an index finger along the rim of his coffee mug. “It's possible that there is a genetic component to her personality—you know, in much the same way that, say, a genius has a different genetic code than a person of average or even above-average intelligence.”

Awareness dawned on Jake. “And you think someone is after her to try to understand this genetic pattern.”

Oliver nodded shortly. “Indeed. But more than that,” he continued, “I think that of late, her genetic code has been tampered with. I think the behavior Gaia has demonstrated that has seemed so out of character is the result of a genetic modification. We're going to get to the bottom of it,” Oliver said, his voice a study in self-assurance.

“God, that's crazy. How can you be so sure it's genetic modification?” Jake asked, not impudently. One of the boy's more positive qualities was that he was able to act unfazed even when presented with highly unusual information.

“For the same reason that you've suspected something is amiss. My agents have reported that she's demonstrated erratic behavior. For example, this afternoon she had a fight and expended more than the typical amount of energy diffusing the incident, which resulted in a longer time spent unconscious. Her typical postfight blackout lasts approximately thirty minutes.”

“Good point,” Jake said, shrugging. He didn't like the thought of Gaia lying somewhere, unconscious, for a long period. He was glad that he trusted Oliver to keep watch over her and intervene if and when necessary.

“Further, I've managed to uncover some medical documents that detail a procedure to stimulate fear
through genetic manipulation. I can't imagine any scenario other than Gaia's that would call for such a procedure. Taken in conjunction with the research I've found on anti-anxietal compounds, I can't help but think that somehow Gaia—and her DNA—are involved. The question is how. Now, given all of this background—which, I should warn you, makes you highly vulnerable as a source of information—I must ask you again, and I expect you to be as honest and comprehensive as possible: Have you noticed anything at all unusual in Gaia's world of late?”

Jake paused for a moment. Oliver knew he had just passed along a lot of information to swallow. He also knew the boy had been holding back in his reports—he assumed Jake was second guessing some of the behavior patterns that seemed new and different to Gaia. But given these latest revelations, Oliver knew that Jake wouldn't dare suppress any further suspicions. Not if he was smart, and Oliver was banking on the fact that, for the most part, he was.

“She, uh, she's been acting strange,” Jake admitted.

“Strange?” Oliver probed, knuckles whitening abound the handle of his coffee cup. “Strange how? I don't deal in vague terms.”

Jake cleared his throat. So he was a touch nervous after all.
Good
, Oliver thought.
He should be
. “Just very… well, I wasn't going to say anything because it didn't, you know,
seem
like anything. But very nervous all
the time. You know, her usual confidence and kick-assness, just… gone. A little timid.”

If Oliver thought that this was important information, he wasn't letting on. But it corresponded to the fear gene theory, no question. He pressed his forefingers to his temples, looking deep in concentration, but didn't offer commentary on this piece of news. He closed his eyes briefly. “And what else?” he asked, seeming again wholly frustrated. “Anything else that can be considered new or different, Jake. No matter how trivial it may seem to you.”

“Well, okay, so she's really anxious all the time, asking lots of questions and being really hesitant. So that's the one thing that seems a little off—though I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a girlfriend who isn't always looking to challenge me.” He winked and laughed conspiratorially, but Oliver didn't laugh in return. “Right. And she's living at the boardinghouse, but you knew that…. So there are new people in the house, you know, Zan, and this other girl whose name I forget… but they're, like, harmless, right?”

Oliver waved impatiently, dismissing further discussion of the boardinghouse. He had all of the background information on the boardinghouse that he needed. Zan was strung out, a drug addict, and basically a waste of Oliver's time. The most she'd been helpful for was identifying Invince for what it was… and now that they had that information, they
had little use for her. Despite her insipid crush on Jake. Or any other teenage boy that breathed. And the other girl, Alexa, was a ball of nerves who kept mostly to herself.

“And I guess she's been doing more girlie things. Like, I see her talking to the girls in school, the ones who used to hang out with Tatiana—the cool girls. Suddenly Gaia cares about them. She used to
hate
them, but now she wants to pass notes with them in class and stuff. And the Rodkes “

Oliver sat up straighter in his chair. “Who?”

“The Rodkes. Liz, Skyler, Chris. You know—their father owns that big pharm—” Jake stopped himself.

“What? Finish that thought,” Oliver demanded with urgency.

“I'm embarrassed that I didn't put this together earlier. But the Rodkes own that big pharmaceutical company. I guess they just moved to New York or something, and they're new to the Village School. Well, Liz and Chris are at VHS. And Skyler is at Columbia. And Gaia's been hanging out with Liz a lot—a lot for Gaia, anyway, which means, you know, that she's been hanging out with another girl at all. But they went to some big thing the other night, a black-tie party that Liz's father was throwing. Gaia went with Liz. Which is unusual enough in and of itself—Gaia got dressed up. Gaia got dressed up and
went to a
party
. I mean, when was the last time
that
happened?”

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