Hungry (16 page)

“Max?” Basil blurts. “Max Apple? Is that your father?”

“Yes,” I tell him. He shuts his eyes tight as if he suddenly has a terrible headache.

Mom steps toward Basil and me. “How did you find her? Are you targeting the children of One World execs? What were you hoping to do? Brainwash her? Kidnap her for ransom?”

“No, that’s not…” Basil is flustered and scared and can’t get his words to come out straight.

“I finally bring a friend home.…” I say to my mom.

“This is not the kind of friend you want,” Mom snaps. “I’m calling security.”

“Mom, no!” I look to Grandma. “Where’s Dad?”

“He went back to work,” she tells me, her eyes wide.

Mom slips her Gizmo out of her pocket.

“Stop it!” I scream. “What are you going to do? Have them arrest me? I was at that meeting, too.” Mom scoffs so I grab Basil’s hand and pull him close to me. “If he goes, I go!”

Mom’s mouth drops open. She stands perfectly still for a moment then mumbles to herself as if she’s puzzling through a set of data. “It’s like you’ve got Arousatrol in your system … the spikes in your dopamine, your mood swings, this sudden passionate response to a boy.…” Her eyes open wide like something’s just hit her. She looks at me carefully. “Listen, Thalia. These things you might be feeling—the hunger and these new emotions for this boy—they’re not real.”

“How do you know?” I bark at her. She has no idea what I felt when I saw him looking in my car window tonight. Or what happens every time his fingers brush against my skin.

Mom takes a step toward us. “Do you remember that mutation on chromosome 16, the one on your FTO gene that you found? I did some research that I’m going to share with Dr. Demeter and…”

Basil tenses at my side. He squeezes my hand and we lock eyes.

“I think that mutation might be inhibiting your inocs and your Synthamil formula from working correctly,” Mom goes on. “Your hunger response isn’t being suppressed the way it should, and your neurotransmitters and hormones seem out of whack, so you’re having urges and emotions that shouldn’t be there. These things you think you’re feeling are just chemicals in your brain. Dopamine and serotonin flooding your circuits and shutting down your prefrontal cortex so a more primitive part of your mind that has the biological urge to eat and, uh, well, procreate is all fired up. And this makes you act impulsively.”

For a split second I think she might be right, but then I think back to what Ana said. How the emotions we used to feel before all the inocs and Synthamil cocktails were what made us human and distinguished us from machines. “What could be more real than that?” I yell. I grip Basil’s hand tighter. “You might be able to stop hunger and keep the world’s population under your thumb, but you can’t control my emotions. Those are mine. They’re a part of me no matter what you say!”

“And you think he feels the same way?” Mom asks, the cynicism clear in her tone. “He doesn’t. He’s using you, Thalia. You’re a pawn in his movement.”

I look at Basil. “Is that true?”

He drops my hand and searches for words.

“You’re going straight to Dr. Demeter,” Mom says, stepping toward us with her Gizmo poised. “And him? He’s going to jail.”

Basil moves so fast that I hear the door wheesh before I realize he’s gone. I turn and gape at the late evening sun spilling across the threshold. I run after him, but by the time I get to the open doorway, he’s nowhere to be seen. The driveway, the walkway, the sidewalk, and the street are empty and quiet as if he’s disappeared. “Basil!” I yell and start to run outside, but Mom catches my wrist.

“No!” she shouts and drags me back into the house. “You’re going to rehab!” I struggle against her, but she’s surprisingly strong. She gives me one more yank then commands the door to close and lock.

*   *   *

Ahimsa glowers at us from the main screen in the living room. “What the hell was she doing there? How long has she been a part of that group?” she bellows at my mother. “Don’t you have any control over her for god’s sake!”

Mom paces the room, trying to assure Ahimsa that she’s just as surprised as anyone by my deplorable behavior. I hug a pillow on the couch, fighting back tears while Grandma strokes my arm and assures me that everything is going to be okay. But I know it’s not, because I’ll never see Basil again. Even if I could find him, he won’t want anything to do with me after what my mother said.

“She’s right there in the footage,” Ahimsa complains. “We’ve gone through the images one by one, and there she is plain as day, running out with some boy we can’t identify. There’s no way we can deny it. I looked at her location data. It puts here there at the time of the arrests.”

“Last time I checked, it’s still legal to go to a meeting!” I snap.

Mom spins around horrified while Ahimsa leans so close to her camera that her beaky face looms large in our living room. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Thalia. Those people are a danger to society. And your involvement could cause all kinds of problems for your family. For me. For One World.” She leans back and shakes her head in disgust. “Top execs’ kid at a resistance meeting.” She looks at my mom. “You have to take her in and let security question her.” She turns to me. “And you,” she says jabbing her finger at the camera. “You have to tell them everything you know about that boy.”

“No.” I hug the pillow tighter. “I won’t tell them anything.” Of course, the truth is, I know nearly nothing about him. He was gone so fast that I wonder if he were just a hologram in some game I was playing.

“Now, Thalia,” Grandma says, nervously patting my leg. “You need to cooperate so we can straighten out this mess. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do any harm. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She looks at Ahimsa. “She only met him a few days ago. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

Mom balls up her fists and squeezes her eyes shut as if she’s trying to stop herself from exploding, then she shouts, “It’s the genetic mutation! And her Synthamil formula isn’t working right. It’s all tied together. Impulsive, erratic behavior. Strong emotions. Poor judgment. Being drawn into the nonsense of the Analogs and that boy. This … this … this
attitude
!” she shouts, waving her arms at me. “She needs to go to Dr. Demeter’s rehab facility right this minute so we can get her straightened out.”

“We had a deal!” I shout at her.

“You broke our deal the minute you stepped foot in that meeting,” Mom says.

“That might work, actually.” Ahimsa sits back with her arms crossed and thinks for a moment. “If you commit her tonight, we can avoid involving security just yet. We’ll say she was targeted by Analog operatives because she’s mentally ill and vulnerable. Then we find that kid. What’s his name? Brazil?”

Mom takes a deep breath and nods. “It’s a good plan.”

“I’m not mentally ill!” I shout, but they ignore me. “Grandma?”

“I’ll call Dr. Demeter to make arrangements,” Mom tells Ahimsa. “You work on finding the boy.”

“Where’s Dad?” I shout. “You can’t drag me away without talking to him first!”

“He’s in a meeting,” Ahimsa says coolly. “I’ll fill him in when it’s over.”

Grandma throws her arm protectively around my shoulder. “You really should speak to Max first,” she says to my mother.

“Max will agree with me,” Mom says as she stomps down the hall to my room. “I’m going to pack a bag for Thalia.”

“Don’t let her do this to me, Grandma,” I beg.

Grandma holds my shoulders. I see tears glistening on the edges of her eyes. “Listen, honey, it’s going to be okay. It’s probably for the best right now. We’ll get you out of harm’s way. Just go to Dr. Demeter’s and sit tight while we work out all the kinks.”

“But Basil…”

“Oh honey,” Grandma says and pulls me into a hug. “I don’t think he’s the kind of boy you want to get mixed up with.”

“She’s right,” Ahimsa says smugly from the screen. “He’s trouble. They’re all trouble. And you’re just lucky we got you out in time.”

*   *   *

“I know you’re angry,” my mother says after she locks us in her Smaurto. My grandmother stands on our stoop, sweater wrapped tightly around her body, waving sadly to me as we pull away. Before we left, I begged her to get a hold of Dad, which she promised to do.

“I know you think I’m punishing you, but I’m not, Thalia,” Mom tries to explain. “I’m trying to help you. If your body was ailing, I would do everything I could to make you get better. This is no different.”

“Of course it’s different,” I insist. “I’m not sick!”

“Your mind is sick,” Mom says gently as if I’m a child with a fever who wants to go outside to play.

“No. I’m making choices you and your boss don’t agree with.”

Mom shakes her head, refusing to believe me. “You’re not behaving this way on purpose. Your brain is misfiring.”

“The only misfire my brain made was to trust you.”

Mom winces. “Thalia, honey, your brain chemistry is not optimized right now. That’s all I’m saying. We just need to tweak your inocs and Synthamil formula to get you optimized again so all those desires you’re feeling to eat and well, um, the emotions you have for that boy, are turned down to a safe level. Don’t you agree?”

“No,” I snap, arms crossed and jaw set.

She gives me a pitying look. “I know you can’t understand this now, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I hope someday you’ll believe me and you’ll know that I did this to protect you.”

“You’re covering your own ass,” I mumble, then I get quiet. I won’t look at her again or talk to her because she’s made up her mind, and nothing I can do will change it.

I stare out the window as we travel via surface streets toward what used to be the heart of the city before it was destroyed. The ribbon of elevated highway that goes from my house to the EntertainArena surrounds this area. When I was little, it was filled with mountains of twisted steel and shattered glass from fallen skyscrapers. Most of the wreckage has been removed, but a few shells remain standing. Giant green letters,
HOLE FOO ARK
, hang loosely from the hull of an abandoned building curved like the prow of ghost ship floating nowhere.
W, D,
and a smattering of other fallen letters litter the ground. We zip past an old bike shop, a cleaner, a bank, and a hardware store. Lights out. Most of the inventory looted long ago. Will I be left and forgotten like all this? The Smaurto turns onto a street that cuts through an area of new construction. The reminders of the crumbled past have been razed and replaced by signs that read
THE FUTURE BEGINS NOW WITH ONE WORLD CONSTRUCTION CORP!

“Look,” Mom says gently. “We aren’t even that far from home. As soon as Dr. Demeter says it’s okay, we’ll come visit you every day.”

“Don’t bother,” I tell her. “Dad will get me out.”

“No, Thalia. This time Dad will be on my side.”

We approach a low-slung, dome-shaped building glowing in the pinks and purples of the fading evening sky. Windows encircling the top reflect the gaudy glare of the EA, which can’t be more than two miles away on the other side of the highway, but it might as well be in outer space once they lock me up. The building itself sits on a flat expanse of land surrounded by hologram shrubs blooming with pink and yellow flowers, probably programmed to last all year long, as if the seasons never change and time never passes here. I wonder who is behind those curved walls and how long they’ve been in there.

My mind skips to Basil. I remember his face contorting when he learned my name, the panic in his eyes when my mom threatened to turn him in. I know I should be happy that he escaped, but all I can think is,
Why didn’t he take me with him?
For a moment, I wonder if my mom is right. Was he using me? I wish I knew how to get in touch with him so I could apologize and tell him that had I known my mother would act like this, I would have never brought him to my house. I press my forehead against the window. For his sake, I hope we never see each other again.

That realization makes my body ache with sadness.

The Smaurto stops in front of the walkway leading to Dr. Demeter’s facility. Mom looks up, chin held high. She has pulled herself together but I’m falling apart. My hands shake. My legs are weak. I fight the urge to cry. “Please,” I whimper. “Please don’t do this.”

She stares ahead at two men dressed in identical pale green pants and shirts who walk to meet the Smaurto. They position themselves by my door. Mom hands me my bag.

My stomach contracts like someone just punched me in the gut. “You’re not coming in with me?”

She shakes her head. “Dr. Demeter asked me not to.”

One of the men peers in and nods at my mother, who commands my door open.

“I love you,” she says and reaches for my shoulder.

I push her hand away. “I hate you.” I climb out and the men escort me to the entrance.

*   *   *

Deep red carpet inside the dome muffles the sound of our footsteps once the men accompany me inside. On either side of the entryway are identical waiting areas with low ceilings, ash gray walls, and dark overstuffed furniture, where I imagine nervous families wait for news about their flawed loved ones. I turn to see if my mother has driven off yet, happy to be rid of me, but the floor-to-ceiling windows are covered by heavy dark curtains. The only natural light comes through the door, a small portal to the world outside, which is closing fast. It shuts with a decisive clunk, then I hear automated dead bolts grind into place.

Dr. Demeter waits in a straight-backed chair, impatiently jiggling his shiny wing tip shoe. He rises and extends his hand as we approach. “Welcome, Thalia. Glad you made it,” he says, as if I’ve come for a weekend getaway. “I hear you had an exciting evening.”

I drop his hand and stare at him. “Are you being sarcastic?”

He shakes his head. “Oh no! Not at all. I’m sincere when I say your adventure in the Outer Loop sounds quite interesting. I’d like to hear more about it.” He smiles at the men flanking me. “Thank you, Ravi. Thank you, Sar. I’ll take it from here.”

They nod and push through the double doors ahead of us where one takes a staircase up and the other down. Dr. Demeter leads me to the left, into a tunnel-like hallway. I notice an identical hall to the right. I imagine you could walk endlessly in circles here.