“Praise to the most high,” he said. He started the car, and we set forth into the island of St. Croix.
The drive made me want to vomit. He drove carefully enough but the terrain was slightly hilly, and it was very windy. I held on as the car threw me from side to side. Saeed was quiet as he looked out the window beside me. Mmuo sat in the front seat.
“How de trip?” Lurrenz asked Mmuo.
Mmuo smiled and then laughed. “Uneventful.”
It was a half hour drive to our destination. About halfway through, I realized I was feeling hot in a way that I could not control or understand. I wasn’t glowing, and this heat wasn’t intense, but I didn’t feel right. Saeed pressed his hand to my cheek. “You don’t feel hot, like . . . not like your kind of heat.”
I nodded, trying to stay calm. “And I feel waves of hot and then . . . cold.” I shivered, feeling a cool wave. Never in my life had I felt cool within my body. I’d have enjoyed the sensation if it weren’t so wrong.
“Maybe, it’s just fever,” Mmuo said.
“I was goin’ to say that,” Lurrenz said, laughing. “I know what to do.”
Five minutes later, he pulled to the side of the road. The stand was owned by some of his Rastafarian friends and they too had long dreadlocks. There was even a young boy smoking something that looked like a cigar. One of the men used a machete to slice off the top of a large coconut. He handed it to me, eyeing my wings. He offered me a brilliant smile and a wink.
“Do I need a straw?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Take and suck.” He brought his hands together as if he were holding the coconut and pretended to bring it to his mouth.
I pressed my lips to the opening and took in the coconut water. It was refreshing and delicious, the temperature of the warm air. I drank the whole thing. By the time we arrived at the resort, my fever was gone.
• • •
We pulled up to a small white stone building whose top was tipped with pink. It looked old and comfortable, as if it had withstood many hurricanes. The road beside it was narrow and quiet, nothing but thin bush across the street and no buildings to the left or right of this one. Mmuo and Saeed got out of the car, but I hesitated.
“It’s ok, darlin’,” the driver said. “Just get into the building. You’ll be fine. No guests here until day after tomorrow. Your man bought it out.” He smiled. “Go and stretch your wings.”
I don’t know why, but his words made me want to cry. I saw no cybernetic limbs, mutations, alterations, additions, or subtractions on Lurrenz. He was just a man. He was like the people I met on my way to Ghana. He accepted what I was as if it were normal. He gazed at me but didn’t stare. His world was big and there was room for me.
Saeed took my hand as I slowly got out and came around to the driver’s window. “Thank you,” I said to Lurrenz.
He took my free hand. “Jah will protect you.” Then he kissed my hand and let us go. I felt like I’d been blessed. Coconut water sloshed in my belly as I walked with Saeed across the street to join Mmuo. We went inside. There were only three people in the hotel. The owner, his wife and his wife’s brother. They stared at us as if we were, well, speciMen. However, they were kind, too.
They showed us to our rooms, promised to bring an early dinner in an hour, and quickly left us alone. The Sandcastle Hotel was right on the ocean. Our rooms opened to the most spectacular view I’d ever seen. White sands, light blue clear water. What struck me most was the noise the water made as it rushed up the beach and tumbled back. I’d never had a chance to actually hear the ocean. I’d never had a chance to just sit and listen to it like this. I was always flying over it. When I left Tower 7 the first time, I’d barely glanced at it as I flew clutching the alien seed. When I saw Africa’s coast, I was so relieved to see land, that I didn’t glance at the place where it met water. When I let the Big Eye capture me, I was too angry to care about seeing the beach. And when I arrived back in the United States, well, I skipped over the beach entirely and went for Tower 1.
Saeed and I had one room. Most of the furniture was wicker and had a beach theme. There was a jelli telli stretched across the wall of the main room and a kitchen stocked with fresh fruit, bottles of water and snacks. There were also bowls of rust flakes, crushed glass, and chips of concrete.
“They didn’t have to do any of this,” Saeed said, though he looked pleased. “I am fine making a meal of sand.” He popped a flake of rust into his mouth and chewed. I shivered. His type of sustenance was not something I’d ever get used to.
The best thing about all the rooms was that the ceilings were high. I could move about freely. The shower was the grandest thing. Made of smooth marble, it was so wide that you had to step down into it. Using it was like stepping into a room with shower heads on the walls.
Mmuo disappeared into his room, shedding his clothes right at the door and walking through it. When I stepped out, his clothes were still there. Right outside my door was a table, shaded with an umbrella. Our early dinner was laid out on one of the tables. There was a plate of rust and a large glass of water for Saeed and for Mmuo and I, whole lobster tails, spiced rice, and slices of fresh mango.
“Very nice,” Saeed said, sitting down.
I knocked on Mmuo’s door. He didn’t answer.
“He’s probably asleep,” Saeed said, his mouth full of rust. “Mmm, crumbles right in my mouth.”
I sat down, and Saeed pushed my plate in front of me. I’d never had lobster. It looked like the nether region of a giant insect that had been broken open. I poked at it with my fork. It was soft, but tough. I speared it and when my fork barely penetrated it, I put it down and used my hands.
Saeed only laughed and shrugged. There was no one around, and we were speciMen. Who needed manners?
“Peel it from the shell,” he said. “Dip it in that right there. It’s melted butter.”
It tasted like rubber dipped in butter. But I was hungry, so I ate it anyway.
Mmuo came out wearing nothing but white pants. He sat beside me and gazed at the food. He smelled as if he’d taken a shower. “This looks good,” he said. He poked at his lobster tail with a fork and then dug into his rice. “When did they bring it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was here when we came out.”
He chuckled. “I think we are alone in this hotel.”
“Good,” I said.
“No, we’re not,” Saeed said, quickly getting up. He was looking behind Mmuo. I gasped and got up, too. The man had come around a corner right beside our room. He skulked and then lunged, less than a yard away. I saw him raising his hand, and I saw what was in his hand.
I slipped.
I was standing right beside him a second before he raised his gun; I grabbed it from his hand. Mmuo moved forward just as Saeed reached into the pocket of his pants. The man held up his empty hand, still unaware that there was no gun in it. He even tried to squeeze the trigger that was not there. Mmuo grabbed him by the neck and flung him against the door, sinking into the door and pulling the man against the wood. As the man choked, Saeed ran at him with his switchblade and held it to the man’s neck.
I stood there, wide eyed, grasping the gun. The man wore a black military uniform and shiny combat boots. His hair was shaven close to his round head, his dark skin made his black uniform seem to fit even better. On his chest, at his heart was a white circle with a black hand grasping lightning bolts. He was a Big Eye. And Big Eye were like ants, where there was one, there were always more.
“Why are you here?” Saeed asked, pressing the blade to the man’s neck.
When did he start carrying that? I wondered. He held it easily. Naturally. Maybe he’d always carried it.
The man squirmed. He was tall and strong. But Mmuo was taller and stronger and pulling his neck against the door from inside it. The man coughed. He might have been in his
early twenties. “Please!” he managed to gasp. But Mmuo pulled harder.
“Call off the others!” Mmuo shouted from behind the door.
“I . . .” He hacked, gasping for breath.
Saeed pressed the blade closer. “Mmuo, let up! Let him talk!”
He gasped when Mmuo released his throat. “I came to ask for your help,” he pleaded. He coughed. “Please! There’s no one else!”
“Then what’s the gun for?” I shouted.
“I’m not stupid,” he said. “I work with your kind. I’d never come near any speciMen without bearing arms. Y’all crazy.”
“How did you find us?”
“I work in Tower 4,” he said. “Some . . . there’re speciMen there who know of y’all. Especially you.” He pointed at Saeed. “They said you’d come back, and you’d be staying at the Sandcastle Hotel. I been coming by here, checking.”
Saeed looked as if he’d seen a ghost, the switchblade nearly dropping from his hand. Mmuo was silent behind the door. He lessened his grip on the man some more. I had his gun. Saeed stepped back. We waited.
“Don’t kill me. Please,” he said, raising both of his hands. “I’m on your side. For this. I’m asking for your help.”
Saeed kicked one of the chairs to him as Mmuo shoved him forward and stepped through the door. The man slowly sat down. Mmuo stood before the man watching him, his arms crossed over his broad chest, stark naked. His pants had slipped off when he stepped through the door. The man stared back at him, but said nothing. Smart man.
“It was stupid to come with a gun,” Mmuo muttered, moving to his plate of food. He picked up a lobster tail, peeled back the shell and bit into it.
“Maybe,” he said. He was staring at me now.
“Talk,” Saeed said.
“I guard the fifth layer,” he said.
Saeed’s hand twitched, grasping his switchblade. For a moment, I was sure he would shove it into the man’s chest.
“Don’t look at me like that, man,” he said. “I never hurt any of those children. I . . .”
“Were you in the lower level?” Saeed snapped.
“Yeah. Sometimes,” the man said quietly.
“And you did nothing to stop it?”
“What was I gonna do?” he said, looking away. “I know guys who tried, and they weren’t just fired. They disappeared in the night, never to be seen again!”
“What is in the lower level?” I asked.
“That’s where I woke,” Saeed said.
“Shit,” Mmuo said, looking hard at Saeed.
“Yeah,” Saeed said.
“What?” I asked, annoyed.
Saeed shook his head. “Not now, Phoenix,” was all he said. He turned to the man. “What is it that you want?”
“I didn’t do the harvesting. I swear! I—”
“You just watched it happen!” Saeed shouted.
“Let him speak,” I said. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“My name is Dartise Lenard,” he said, focusing on me. He was right to do so. I was the only one who wasn’t looking at him with murder in my eyes. “I’m from Atlanta, Georgia and I started with LifeGen Technologies right out of college three years ago. Joining erased my ten years of academic indenture.
“I was stationed in Tower 4 a year ago and . . .” he looked at Saeed who was glaring at him.
“Go on,” I urged.
He looked back at me and smiled sadly. “It was a dream come true. The Virgin Islands, like getting a job in paradise. They had me guarding the speciMen in the innermost layers because, well, they said I had a kind face, and I was black. The speciMen in this area preferred guards who were black and looked nice. I found out later that this is because these speciMen, though they long-lived, some over 70 years, stayed children. Children like faces that are soothing, friendly, smile easy. And children like faces that look like theirs. All these children were black—African, to be specific. Most of them were from Ethiopia, some were from Sudan. They were all real dark-skinned.” He took a breath, glancing at Saeed. “So, these children . . .”
“Yes, tell us,” Saeed said, though gritted teeth. “What about them?”
“They were special,” he said. “I don’t know the details. I just know we weren’t supposed to ever touch them or let them touch us. They stayed in their rooms most of the time, so this wasn’t a problem. But once in a while, we had to move them to places, to be . . . harvested.”
I shivered. Saeed had been sent there when they thought he was dead. His body was still of use to the Big Eye, though I did not know what for. I didn’t like that word, ‘harvest.’
“The children were long-lived,” he said again, looking away from me now. “And if you took a piece of them, it grew back. I don’t know why or what LifeGen did to them.”
I frowned at Mmuo, disgusted, then at Saeed, realizing why they’d taken his so-called body there. They’d wanted to harvest his body parts, too. Maybe even in death, his body survived. However, they’d been too right. Saeed wasn’t dead at all.
“They didn’t age,” Dartise continued. “And a few of them could see, like, see the future!” He leaned forward. “The first day, one of them grabbed my arm when I was taking her to a lab. Contact was brief and none of the cameras caught it, I guess. There’re lots of cameras there.” He paused. “She said I was in the right place to make a difference. Didn’t know what she meant, and I didn’t care. Six months later, I had to escort a speciMen in the innermost layer. I was about to go home for the night when I was told that I had to walk number 782 to lab 12. I had to put on a radiation suit and mask. They told me not to speak to ‘it’ and to have ‘it’ walk in front of me at all times and to keep my gun pointed but never ever shoot or I would be fired. They hinted that worse would happen, too.
“I was tired and scared. Its name was HeLa and ‘it’ was a woman.” He looked up at me. “She reminds me of you. But without the wings. That first time I met her two things happened. I took her to a lab where they harvested something more important than body parts from her and I fell in love.”
I wanted to laugh. Mmuo actually did laugh. Saeed made a sound that sounded like hacking. This man wanted us to save a woman he’d fallen in love with. A Big Eye had fallen in love with a speciMen.
• • •
Saeed and Mmuo grilled Dartise for information and he seemed eager to give it once he calmed down. We listened to his stories of discovery, rupture, and blood in Tower 4. More of the wildest, darkest, rabid scientific sorcery. I kept quiet, but inside I felt my heat, my furious flames roiling. At some point, the three of them started strategizing and a plan came together. Thanks to the desperate Dartise, the plan was solid. Once he left, we used the jelli telli to bring up the digital image of the earth. We zoomed in on Tower 4. It’s amazing just how much detail the public world map will show of the towers. They certainly won’t show you everything, but they show enough and give you a limited guided tour. To me, it’s just more hiding out in the open. They pretend the work they do is innocent and non-secretive to keep people from asking more questions.
None of us spoke the obvious, that there was no turning back from here. Nor did we check the news. Whatever was happening in the rest of the world was not our business, at the moment. We were focused on Tower 4. We assumed there would be heightened security, and if there was not, better for us. We would free and destroy. There were only three of us, but as the world knew, even just one rogue speciMen could do a lot of damage.
Mmuo left, saying that he was going for a long walk. That left Saeed and me. The sun was setting.
• • •
Outside I could hear the ocean lapping at the beach; the sound soothed me. I leaned against the door and watched the sun slowly set. There wasn’t a human soul on that beach, but I imagined there were plenty of other types. I imagined the Nigerian spider robots. What
if they showed up on this beach? But I had a feeling they were more interested in bigger busier places that liked to consume energy.
Saeed rested his chin on my shoulder as he leaned against my wings. “Do you want to know the last time I was in a place like this?” he asked.
“When?”
“Never.”
We both laughed.
“I saw the Nile River every day,” he said. “It ran through Cairo, sluggish and muddy. This water is like liquid glass.” He kissed my neck. “It’s beautiful.”
He breathed against my ear and everything shivered. The tips of my wings felt as if they were touching the world. “My goodness,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. I touched my forehead as Saeed came around me, took my hand, and we went outside. The sun had set, but this didn’t matter. There was no one else on the beach. I looked over my shoulder as we stepped onto the sand. Mmuo’s door was closed.
The sand was soft on my bare feet and the water was warm. We walked out up to our knees.
“Have you ever tried swimming?” he asked as we stood looking out at the dark ocean. I was glowing slightly, and I could see hand-sized white fish swimming around my ankles and legs with curiosity.
“Never,” I said. I bent down and touched the water. I was wearing one of my white dresses, and its hem was already wet. I touched my hand to my lips and tasted the salty water. “Maybe I’ll die.”
“You won’t die,” he said.
“I’m not you.”
“Well, dying isn’t exactly your worst enemy.”
Laughing, I splashed him. He looked at me utterly shocked. Then he splashed me. I tried to run away and fell into the water instead, soaking my wings.
“Phoenix!” he said, running to me.
The water was so warm on my wings. For a moment, I just lay there, looking up at Saeed’s extended hand. “Come,” he said, hauling me up. I stood there, my wings soaked and heavy. He looked at me, breathing hard, nervous in the dim moonlight and the light from my glow. I was glowing brighter now, but I was not warm. “Are you all right?”