Fast forward a few years to find me, aged eleven, standing before a newsstand with Justin and Steel. As usual, we were skipping school.
As was expected for children with our bloodline, we were phenomenally intelligent and could have skipped about four grades apiece. None of us were interested in applying ourselves however, and spent an average of two to three days absent from school, roaming the streets.
We'd recently moved back into Seattle from the City. Mom was fighting to hold down a job to keep us clothed and fed, and the schools we attended had given up trying to contact her about our absences.
The sector police could be a shambles, which explained Justin only getting caught shoplifting the one time. Steel could barely make it through one full schoolday, the way she was ridiculed. Dutifully, Justin and I hunted down her tormentors in the streets when we went to get the evening newssheets (like a cheap, post-Pulse version of a newspaper) and beat them up.
"We'd better head home," I said, checking my watch. It was an hour fast and tight on my wrist.
Mom rarely caught us coming home too early or late by accident, as she worked two jobs- a day job and a night job. By day, she taught martial arts to schoolchildren. By night, she was a waitress.
It began to rain as we walked home. I stopped in the middle of the street and took a deep breath. I could smell the rain catching in my hair and dinners cooking in the homes of the Ordinaries. I watched my half-brother and younger sister walk down the street ahead of me. I smiled.
"Keep up, Free!" called Steel.
I ran to follow.
We made our way back to our newest apartment. Our living conditions had steadily improved since I was eight. Our new home was trendy and messy. We ate takeout a lot of the time- it was my turn to go and get the food.
"I need money though," I said as the rain increased.
"Mom's got some," said Steel, tuning the radio on the kitchen table. We'd given up on television entirely and now relied exclusively on the radio for entertainment.
I searched Mom's room. I ransacked her various cardboard boxes and finally easily tipped over her low cot. I'd never had to go through her whole room to find money before.
A box. This must be where she kept her money...
Or not. Amazed, I pulled a few guns and pistols, a loop of barbed wire, some knives, some explosives and nylon ropes from the depths of the box. I also found a green notebook. A Manticore mugshot of a younger Dad was taped inside the front cover. All down the front page were words written in a script I recognised as my mother's... neater than a typed font and strict.
DECEPTION, it said. DECEPTION IS A WEAPON. SURPRISE. SURPRISE IS A TACTICAL ADVANTAGE. THE ENEMY OF THE ENEMY IS MY FRIEND. Over and over, it went over about ten pages.
"Damn, Mom..." I whispered.
Ceremonially, I put the weapons and notebook back into the box before spotting my mother's wallet on the floor nearby. I wished I had seen it earlier. This glimpse into Mom's mind had frightened me. I'd always known what she was capable of, but had been brought up with a strong sense of family. Everyone was my family. Why did my mom have all these weapons? Did she want to hurt others? Did she want to hurt us? Did she want to hurt herself?
These thoughts plagued me as I went to get our dinner. We sat, the three of us, my hair wet, Justin's eyes older than those of most adults, Steel soft and trusting. We ate in silence. Sad music from our favourite radio station pulsed through us.
For the next few days I was almost afraid of our mother. She was tough, unemotional, full of pride and power. Her mouth was a grim line of determination and she acted exactly as she always did. I could almost see the words she'd written flashing in her blue eyes, the eyes of the murdered Eva. DECEPTION. DECEPTION IS A WEAPON.
Was she deceiving us?
I came home early to get my jacket on another of my days of skipping school with Steel and Justin. It was windy. I entered the house silently and heard Mom talking with someone in the kitchen.
I froze. Mom was never home at that time of day. I could have just snatched my jacket off the nearest armchair and ran from the place, but I stood and listened.
"So what was the name you said you'd given yourself?" asked Mom.
"Mike Samwise."
"I thought you were all for blending in? I'm surprised you were even able to get a job with a name like that." I could practically feel her raise her eyebrows.
"I heard it somewhere and liked it," said the male voice. "So how is our kid?"
My mouth dropped open.
"His name's Justin. Splint gave him his name."
"I'm sorry about your husband. I saw you on the TV."
My mom sighed loudly. "Just about everyone in the world did."
There was a pause.
"You realise I'm not letting you near Justin."
"Why? I just wanted to see him... and you. See what I'm leaving behind."
Mom sighed again, but impatiently. "This isn't Manticore and you're not my breeding partner and Justin is not your son any more than Steel and Free are your daughters. They had a father. He's gone."
"But-"
"I know it's been hard for you. But you can't just show up, tell him you're his father and then disappear to die in hospital. It'd destroy him."
He sighed. "How old is he now, exactly?"
"Thirteen. Mike, Manticore's OVER. It's been over for over a decade. You were my breeding partner, but I didn't ever love you. That's why I think you should leave, now."
"Can I stay here a little while? My bus doesn't come for a half hour."
My mom huffed. "Well, there you go then. You were gonna introduce yourself as his dad and then hop on a bus?"
"The clinic's expecting me, Kara. I'm going to die, you know. Might as well be in a cold, white, sterile room instead of a gutter or a basement."
"Those are your only choices?" asked Mom.
"Your hair's gotten really long. It was only, what, chin length last time I saw you?"
Mom laughs cynically. "Well, it was pretty hard to run through the forest with my hair in my face. And, remind me, when was the last time you saw me?"
"Kara, don't make me say it. I'm still ashamed."
"Night of the burning of Manticore. They'd kept me overnight in the infirmary for a pregnancy test- that little bleep on the ultrasound turned out to be Justin, dontcha know?"
Silence.
"And the place was burning, and two other females and me were trapped in there. We couldn't open the door and you ran past us and what did you do, Mike?"
His voice was low. Mom always had that effect on people. "I left you behind. Kara, I was with the young X8s. Almost every one of the X9 anomalies in the basement died that night, Kara, I was going to go down there and get a few out-"
"I thought we were going to die. And then the most unlikely hero came along and saved us three insignificant breeding females. You know who that was?"
He made a very catlike growl.
"My husband Splint. He broke open the door just as I was trying to smash open the screen." She giggled softly. "I fell on him. That kind of thing was always happening to Splint. He helped me and Justin out of there, as well as the other pregnant females. One was having twins, as I recall, identical twins. Do you know how many lives that means he saved? Mine, Justin's, one breeding female and her unborn child and another breeding female with two kids on the way. Seven."
I thought about Mom accidentally falling on Dad and nearly giggled.
Mom continued. "I thought he was his X5 twin, the one of my group, the one without a name. I yelled his designation, the twin, asked him why the hell he got us out. That wasn't the mission, as I recalled. And he yelled back his own designation, but I couldn't hear him over the roar of the fire. He was helping the three of us down the hall. And so for the first time since the '09 escape he used his baby name, Splint, and he yelled that to me, 'No, I'm Splint!' He gave us three boosts through a window and I was last. I said then, 'Are you going to give us up to the superiors, soldier?' He said to me, he said... 'I wouldn't dream of it, the new X5 generation is so important to us all. They need to get out of here; WE need to get them out of here. Just you get your kid as far away from here as possible.' He helped me through and I ran off after the other breeding females. I thought about what he said and I didn't look back. He'd freed me."
Mom sounded choked up. "For months I travelled around the country, shedding my military ways and weighed down by the baby I was carrying. I thought... I thought of giving Justin up for adoption, so he wouldn't have an X5 for a mother. But I remembered the X5 who'd said his name was Splint and I decided it wasn't worth another ruined childhood on Manticore's terms... what was it you did with the X8s, Mike? Gave them up?"
"It was what I was told to do," said Mike softly. "I regretted it. They probably shot those kids."
"Exactly. And I want Justin to have the kind of guy who'd help three pregnant women, none of them his breeding partner and one of them who fell on him, for a father. I want him to be able to hear his name and say, 'That's my dad.' OK?"
I shivered.
Mike coughed. "I'll miss you. At least I know now you got out and our kid is OK. You're still tough."
"And you're still a soldier-boy ass," said Mom fondly. "Mike, you know that Good Place they say that Ben Blueman was always talking about?"
"Yeah?"
"You're headed there. And when you get there, find Splint and tell him we miss him."
I darted behind a chair. I think somehow Mom sensed me there as she ushered Mike out of the house, and I couldn't keep away as she went back to the kitchen. I ran and hugged her.
"Mom, you're the greatest," I said tearfully.
She knew what I was talking about. She didn't tell me off for anything, only hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Don't tell your brother."
I know that throughout the States, even before the fall of the City, there were families that were not families, created in a place that didn't know the meaning of the word. The young X-series had had to figure that one out for themselves.
And now I don't call Justin a half-brother in general conversation or even in the works I write. He's just my big brother of two years. These looks into my mom's mind taught me for sure at a young age that it is not necessarily where we come from that's the issue in transgenic families. It's what we grow to be.
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: The song that was playing on the kids' favourite radio station (which happens to be Pre-Pulse Top Thirty Hits) was 'Family Portrait' by Pink. Check it out because it is AWESOME. Parts of it inspired this chapter.
As was expected for children with our bloodline, we were phenomenally intelligent and could have skipped about four grades apiece. None of us were interested in applying ourselves however, and spent an average of two to three days absent from school, roaming the streets.
We'd recently moved back into Seattle from the City. Mom was fighting to hold down a job to keep us clothed and fed, and the schools we attended had given up trying to contact her about our absences.
The sector police could be a shambles, which explained Justin only getting caught shoplifting the one time. Steel could barely make it through one full schoolday, the way she was ridiculed. Dutifully, Justin and I hunted down her tormentors in the streets when we went to get the evening newssheets (like a cheap, post-Pulse version of a newspaper) and beat them up.
"We'd better head home," I said, checking my watch. It was an hour fast and tight on my wrist.
Mom rarely caught us coming home too early or late by accident, as she worked two jobs- a day job and a night job. By day, she taught martial arts to schoolchildren. By night, she was a waitress.
It began to rain as we walked home. I stopped in the middle of the street and took a deep breath. I could smell the rain catching in my hair and dinners cooking in the homes of the Ordinaries. I watched my half-brother and younger sister walk down the street ahead of me. I smiled.
"Keep up, Free!" called Steel.
I ran to follow.
We made our way back to our newest apartment. Our living conditions had steadily improved since I was eight. Our new home was trendy and messy. We ate takeout a lot of the time- it was my turn to go and get the food.
"I need money though," I said as the rain increased.
"Mom's got some," said Steel, tuning the radio on the kitchen table. We'd given up on television entirely and now relied exclusively on the radio for entertainment.
I searched Mom's room. I ransacked her various cardboard boxes and finally easily tipped over her low cot. I'd never had to go through her whole room to find money before.
A box. This must be where she kept her money...
Or not. Amazed, I pulled a few guns and pistols, a loop of barbed wire, some knives, some explosives and nylon ropes from the depths of the box. I also found a green notebook. A Manticore mugshot of a younger Dad was taped inside the front cover. All down the front page were words written in a script I recognised as my mother's... neater than a typed font and strict.
DECEPTION, it said. DECEPTION IS A WEAPON. SURPRISE. SURPRISE IS A TACTICAL ADVANTAGE. THE ENEMY OF THE ENEMY IS MY FRIEND. Over and over, it went over about ten pages.
"Damn, Mom..." I whispered.
Ceremonially, I put the weapons and notebook back into the box before spotting my mother's wallet on the floor nearby. I wished I had seen it earlier. This glimpse into Mom's mind had frightened me. I'd always known what she was capable of, but had been brought up with a strong sense of family. Everyone was my family. Why did my mom have all these weapons? Did she want to hurt others? Did she want to hurt us? Did she want to hurt herself?
These thoughts plagued me as I went to get our dinner. We sat, the three of us, my hair wet, Justin's eyes older than those of most adults, Steel soft and trusting. We ate in silence. Sad music from our favourite radio station pulsed through us.
For the next few days I was almost afraid of our mother. She was tough, unemotional, full of pride and power. Her mouth was a grim line of determination and she acted exactly as she always did. I could almost see the words she'd written flashing in her blue eyes, the eyes of the murdered Eva. DECEPTION. DECEPTION IS A WEAPON.
Was she deceiving us?
I came home early to get my jacket on another of my days of skipping school with Steel and Justin. It was windy. I entered the house silently and heard Mom talking with someone in the kitchen.
I froze. Mom was never home at that time of day. I could have just snatched my jacket off the nearest armchair and ran from the place, but I stood and listened.
"So what was the name you said you'd given yourself?" asked Mom.
"Mike Samwise."
"I thought you were all for blending in? I'm surprised you were even able to get a job with a name like that." I could practically feel her raise her eyebrows.
"I heard it somewhere and liked it," said the male voice. "So how is our kid?"
My mouth dropped open.
"His name's Justin. Splint gave him his name."
"I'm sorry about your husband. I saw you on the TV."
My mom sighed loudly. "Just about everyone in the world did."
There was a pause.
"You realise I'm not letting you near Justin."
"Why? I just wanted to see him... and you. See what I'm leaving behind."
Mom sighed again, but impatiently. "This isn't Manticore and you're not my breeding partner and Justin is not your son any more than Steel and Free are your daughters. They had a father. He's gone."
"But-"
"I know it's been hard for you. But you can't just show up, tell him you're his father and then disappear to die in hospital. It'd destroy him."
He sighed. "How old is he now, exactly?"
"Thirteen. Mike, Manticore's OVER. It's been over for over a decade. You were my breeding partner, but I didn't ever love you. That's why I think you should leave, now."
"Can I stay here a little while? My bus doesn't come for a half hour."
My mom huffed. "Well, there you go then. You were gonna introduce yourself as his dad and then hop on a bus?"
"The clinic's expecting me, Kara. I'm going to die, you know. Might as well be in a cold, white, sterile room instead of a gutter or a basement."
"Those are your only choices?" asked Mom.
"Your hair's gotten really long. It was only, what, chin length last time I saw you?"
Mom laughs cynically. "Well, it was pretty hard to run through the forest with my hair in my face. And, remind me, when was the last time you saw me?"
"Kara, don't make me say it. I'm still ashamed."
"Night of the burning of Manticore. They'd kept me overnight in the infirmary for a pregnancy test- that little bleep on the ultrasound turned out to be Justin, dontcha know?"
Silence.
"And the place was burning, and two other females and me were trapped in there. We couldn't open the door and you ran past us and what did you do, Mike?"
His voice was low. Mom always had that effect on people. "I left you behind. Kara, I was with the young X8s. Almost every one of the X9 anomalies in the basement died that night, Kara, I was going to go down there and get a few out-"
"I thought we were going to die. And then the most unlikely hero came along and saved us three insignificant breeding females. You know who that was?"
He made a very catlike growl.
"My husband Splint. He broke open the door just as I was trying to smash open the screen." She giggled softly. "I fell on him. That kind of thing was always happening to Splint. He helped me and Justin out of there, as well as the other pregnant females. One was having twins, as I recall, identical twins. Do you know how many lives that means he saved? Mine, Justin's, one breeding female and her unborn child and another breeding female with two kids on the way. Seven."
I thought about Mom accidentally falling on Dad and nearly giggled.
Mom continued. "I thought he was his X5 twin, the one of my group, the one without a name. I yelled his designation, the twin, asked him why the hell he got us out. That wasn't the mission, as I recalled. And he yelled back his own designation, but I couldn't hear him over the roar of the fire. He was helping the three of us down the hall. And so for the first time since the '09 escape he used his baby name, Splint, and he yelled that to me, 'No, I'm Splint!' He gave us three boosts through a window and I was last. I said then, 'Are you going to give us up to the superiors, soldier?' He said to me, he said... 'I wouldn't dream of it, the new X5 generation is so important to us all. They need to get out of here; WE need to get them out of here. Just you get your kid as far away from here as possible.' He helped me through and I ran off after the other breeding females. I thought about what he said and I didn't look back. He'd freed me."
Mom sounded choked up. "For months I travelled around the country, shedding my military ways and weighed down by the baby I was carrying. I thought... I thought of giving Justin up for adoption, so he wouldn't have an X5 for a mother. But I remembered the X5 who'd said his name was Splint and I decided it wasn't worth another ruined childhood on Manticore's terms... what was it you did with the X8s, Mike? Gave them up?"
"It was what I was told to do," said Mike softly. "I regretted it. They probably shot those kids."
"Exactly. And I want Justin to have the kind of guy who'd help three pregnant women, none of them his breeding partner and one of them who fell on him, for a father. I want him to be able to hear his name and say, 'That's my dad.' OK?"
I shivered.
Mike coughed. "I'll miss you. At least I know now you got out and our kid is OK. You're still tough."
"And you're still a soldier-boy ass," said Mom fondly. "Mike, you know that Good Place they say that Ben Blueman was always talking about?"
"Yeah?"
"You're headed there. And when you get there, find Splint and tell him we miss him."
I darted behind a chair. I think somehow Mom sensed me there as she ushered Mike out of the house, and I couldn't keep away as she went back to the kitchen. I ran and hugged her.
"Mom, you're the greatest," I said tearfully.
She knew what I was talking about. She didn't tell me off for anything, only hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Don't tell your brother."
I know that throughout the States, even before the fall of the City, there were families that were not families, created in a place that didn't know the meaning of the word. The young X-series had had to figure that one out for themselves.
And now I don't call Justin a half-brother in general conversation or even in the works I write. He's just my big brother of two years. These looks into my mom's mind taught me for sure at a young age that it is not necessarily where we come from that's the issue in transgenic families. It's what we grow to be.
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: The song that was playing on the kids' favourite radio station (which happens to be Pre-Pulse Top Thirty Hits) was 'Family Portrait' by Pink. Check it out because it is AWESOME. Parts of it inspired this chapter.