Music from the band pulses over a small crowd of transgenic teenagers and I've rarely been this happy, this... cool, as they've always said on the Outside. I'm thirteen and sitting on a giant pile of crates with some other transgenic girls of my age. We are celebrating the fifth anniversary of our legal freedom in the city of Seattle.
This was the very place where Steel and I watched our Aunt Amna box on Christmas Night when we were little girls. Everyone knew deep down that Seattle wasn't going to stand for much more transgenic sentimentality. Everyone's parents had insisted we have the day off school- the week in some cases. There'd been countless transgenics ringing radio stations asking for battle songs and anthems to freedom played in honour of the momentous day. Transgenics walked the streets singing the praises of the X5 heroes- Max, Zack, even the long-dead Eva. I'd smiled at that last one. I always felt a strange closeness to Eva... nobody had ever been able to shake my belief that it was her ghost that saved us in the riot.
Now, Seattle was at the end of its tether with our Teen Transgenic Block Party. Everyone could stay up all night- all week if we wanted. Music was pumping from every direction and keeping the citizens awake. We knew we were trying their patience but we of the freak nation, the former City residents, we seized any chance to celebrate. We were not religious; the older transgenics didn't have birthdays... an anniversary for everyone was just what we wanted.
I frowned as some men and women in uniform shoved through the crowd of dancing transgenics. I could tell they were scared. Even from far away I sensed them quaking in our presence and smelled their fear. There was a veritable army of sector police.
"We will have to ask you to end this unauthorised party! You are purposely harassing the nearby Seattle residents and they won't stand for it!" yelled an officer into a bullhorn.
Eyes, animal and human and luminous under crumpled paper lanterns strung above us and numerous bonfires (we were always suckers for a good bonfire) glared.
Steel, who was nearby dancing with a human-looking transgenic boy, scowled. "What's up with you crashing our party?" she yelled. "This party is for transgenics ONLY!"
There were yells of agreement. The square was filled with young adults who were children when they escaped Manticore and second-generation X-series- basically all the teen transgenics of Seattle.
I felt so proud of Steel, who had always been so shy and unassuming and downtrodden... more so since Dad died. I was glad she'd made a friend, the transgenic boy seemed to be making her laugh. She'd been giggling at almost everything he said to her.
The sector police were being jostled about. There was a commotion nearby the band as some police tried to take them into custody.
The crowd gave a collective roar and sprang into battle.
"Come on!" I heard Steel call to her friend, laughing. "I love a good fight!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him right into the action.
We all loved a good fight. I cheered them on from my perch up on the crates and wondered idly why Steel's little boyfriend had looked so hesitant to join in.
The police ended up being thrown out of the city. Our party spilled out into the surrounding streets. I knew we'd been bad in a way that Manticore never would have stood for. We hadn't followed orders, we hadn't been silent and respectful- and I loved it. It felt like we were more than Manticore, more than our parents, more than our faces.
And as the sun came up Justin, Steel and I danced alone down the street to the current apartment block to the tunes that had gotten stuck in our heads since the night before. We laughed at jokes only we could ever understand and related childhood anecdotes only transgenics could ever share. Justin was fifteen and had a black eye from the fight, which he proudly called his 'red badge of courage' and pointed out to the two of us every few minutes.
My big brother and little sister were still my best friends. I knew other transgenic kids and they were my friends, and I was civil to the other kids in the apartment block, but they knew I could kick their asses all the way to snowy Canada if they messed with me. But I'd always gotten on quite well with the two of them and the death of our father had united us like the first-generation X5s of the past. A unit. A squadron. A family.
Mom had been having her own fun all night. She'd been to parties, bars and spent an hour in a club even though it hurt her head like anything what with her hearing. She was making breakfast for us and even consenting to cutting our school lunches. We whined and complained about being sent off to school, not that we were tired, oh no. I whined because I wanted to hang onto this wonderful feeling all day, all my life if I could.
"What did you kids do at the party?" she asked, cutting the crusts off Steel's meat sandwich.
"I got this!" said Justin, pointing at his 'red badge'. Steel and I groaned and shoved him.
"Steel got in a fight. She kicked ass, didn't you, Steel?" I volunteered, swirling a finger through the margarine and then trying to dip it in the sugar. Mom slapped at my hand and gave me a warning look.
"I also met a boy. He was nice," Steel said modestly.
Justin and I laughed uproariously. "You did more than that! You pulled the best-looking transgenic boy there! Too bad he's only a baby," I said, giggling.
"Twelve is not a baby," said Steel, scowling at our good-natured teasing. "He's only a few months shy of turning thirteen anyhow."
"Maybe you should give him a call, Free," kidded Justin.
And that was all that was said for a long time about Steel's little boyfriend, as I called him. There were grumbles over the months about transgenics from the Seattle residents as we got into riots, scared schoolchildren with our twisted, furry brethren leaping from sewer drains and laughing at their screams, complained constantly about the lack of tolerance on their part.
I turned fourteen and Steel was suddenly thirteen, unbelievable as she'd always been so YOUNG. She was the child who'd loved cars and stories and making things and fixing things and was always honest and true. Now she was all those things but better and older. Justin and I got impatient with her for being slow but somewhere behind those eyes, the dark of our father Splint, she was taking in more than we realised.
One night, the moment Mom walked through the door Steel ambushed her with stealth and speed Manticore would have been proud of. "Mom, I'd like to bring a friend over for the evening tomorrow night. Is that OK with you?"
"Well, if you want... I can't remember the last time any of you brought a guest over here."
I came out of the bathroom with my hair wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush dangling from my hand. "You can't do sparring matches in our living room, Mom. We break things."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Many dedicated transgenics fought and slaved since childhood so that you could grow up in peace and you want to do sparring when your friends come over?"
"Can we send out for pizza?" asked Steel excitedly. "Or Chinese food? Those are our favourites. And- and-"
I hadn't seen Steel this hyper in years. "She's not getting both, I hope?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "She's getting spoiled, Mom. Remember a time when our Christmas presents consisted wholly of a pair of shoes apiece?"
"It's not that much more even now," said Mom fairly. "Steel, either pizza or Chinese but not both, OK? I have to go and take off my makeup."
Steel immediately ran onto the street to the payphone to call her friend.
The next evening, I was lying on my stomach doing my Biology homework when Steel came through the door followed by her friend. Seeing as Steel was so enthusiastic about this particular guest I was determined to make a good impression. I jumped to my feet and gasped, laughing. "Hey, I remember you!" I said in amazement.
Steel said, "OK, uh, Free, this is my friend Deon. Deon, this is my older sister, Free."
"Yeah, you're the one who was with Steel at the party last year," I said, walking around him in a circle, taking in every angle. "I definitely remember you."
"Uh, hey," he said nervously.
"So what series are your parents? X5 like ours?" I enquired.
Deon coughed and stared at the floor. I didn't get it. The last time I'd seen him he'd been talking constantly, Steel had been laughing at everything he'd said. Maybe he just clicked with her more than others.
"Deon, why don't you go get some water and look around the kitchen?" asked Steel meaningfully. He shrugged slightly and walked into the kitchen.
"Er, nice guy-" I began, but Steel turned to me forcefully.
"Don't say a word," she hissed. "Listen, Free, there's one thing about Deon that isn't... um... ideal."
"What's that?"
"Well, for one thing, don't ask him what series his parents are or what part of the City he lived in."
"How come?"
Steel smiled grimly. "Free, Deon's not a transgenic. He's an Ordinary."
I froze.
"Free? Say something."
"You traitor."
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," joked Steel.
"You have an Ordinary boyfriend?" I demanded.
Steel frowned. "He's not my boyfriend." She suddenly grinned. "Not exactly."
I decided to save those arguments for later. "If he's not a transgenic then what was he doing at the block party?"
"Deon and some of his friends sneaked into the City to see what transgenic kids do at parties. Then we got talking and he decided to stay for awhile and talk to me instead of going back out with his friends. He's really fun to talk to, Free-"
"Don't you remember what they used to DO to us?" I snarled.
"Oh, don't," countered Steel. "'There is no I in team', 'Mission', 'Duty'- what is so wrong with me having an Ordinary friend over? It's not like I'm going to marry him or something!"
"Steel, you are being completely-"
"Free, there is more than one way to be a transgenic. Rather than making things hard for them, can't we try to put it behind us?"
This was the girl who'd stood with me while my brother and his friends shouted at reporters beyond the boundary fence. I remembered how little we'd been and the feeling of her hand in mine. I'd protected her.
I blinked. "They KILLED our dad, Steel!" I hissed. "You're a transgenic. Even your name is transgenic! Steel Xavier, remember? Xavier for 'X-series'? For the little baby made out of steel? REMEMBER?"
Steel looked at me coolly. "I remember. And I'm proud of where I come from. But right now I'm going to go and hang out with Deon- not 'cause he's an Ordinary or I'm second-generation X5. 'Cause he's my friend." Steel turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen.
I couldn't do my homework now. All I thought about was my little sister, my sweet, naive little sister... being corrupted by some Ordinary.
Justin came through the door. He was barely inside when I jumped him. "There is an ORDINARY in the house," I hissed, using tones most girls use when talking about intruders or at the worst, cockroaches.
"So what? You can take 'em, can't you?" asked Justin perplexedly.
I rolled my eyes and said, "Yeah, but it's a friend of Steel! She's fraternising with the enemy!"
Justin raised his eyebrows. "Well, I don't understand that. Every Ordinary in the district is scared to death of us."
"No, Justin, every Ordinary in the district is scared to death of you and me. Steel wouldn't hurt a fly."
Justin contemplated this. "Girl or boy?"
"Boy. Name's- Deon." I pronounced it like a loathsome swearword.
"Well, did she bring him home voluntarily?"
Why was he asking these dumb questions? He was usually so quick.
"Yes, but-"
"Aw, c'mon, Free. Give her a break," he said easily. "I talk with Ordinaries all the time."
I felt my jaw drop as Justin sauntered into the kitchen. Everyone was a traitor.
Over the next few days it seemed like my two best friends had deserted me. It hit me just how much time I spent with Steel, because now she seemed to spend all that time with her new friend Deon. I realised that Justin had his own friends, many of whom seemed to be Ordinaries. I cried myself to sleep at night.
I stood sullenly in line for food with a coupon and an ID card in my hand a week later. Steel and Deon stood behind me- as usual; he was making her laugh. I wished more than anything I could have her back. I could have killed Deon for taking my sister from me.
I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. The unity of Terminal City was dead.
"Free, we're next," I heard her say.
I scowled at her. "You're a big girl," I told her venomously. "You do it." I shoved our ration cards and ID into her hands and ran off.
I found myself in a part of Seattle unknown to me. I climbed up the tallest housing block I could find.
Sadly, I gazed out into the greyed city, the graffiti covering walls blurring with my tears.
"Hey- I sleep here!" demanded someone. A skinny young woman with dyed hair scrambled onto the roof. She stopped, bewildered, when she saw I was crying. "Are you all right?"
"You don't want to talk to me," I said sadly. "I'm second-generation Manticore transgenic. X5."
She cocked her head to the side. "Yes, and I'm German-Swiss-Polish-American, but you don't see me crying about it."
"I don't want to cry. I was taught not to cry. I can't cry. I mustn't cry."
"Well, that's pretty stupid."
"I'm crying because everyone seems to be betraying me and I didn't even know it. My brother and sister are fraternising with Ordinaries behind my back. They're my best friends."
The young woman sat down next to me. "I get it. You're one of those transgenics who hold a grudge against us. And you're upset and scared because your friends are getting over it faster than you, and for you, forgiving us isn't an option."
"But- I feel so bad. My little sister has an Ordinary for a boyfriend, and I don't know what sort of stuff he's putting into her mind. She's forgotten... they used to tease her so much at school that she couldn't get through a whole day, she just couldn't. My big brother and I, we'd beat up the kids who bullied her so bad that they wouldn't look at her cross-eyed. And she thanked us and it was good, it was OK because we were protecting her. What's happened to her?"
The woman asked, "So you hate the non-transgenics full stop?"
"I don't hate people because of what their parents are. That's not what I was taught." I began to cry again. "I hate them because of what they did to us. They shot my dad. They killed the X5 heroes- Tinga Smith, my mom's twin, Eva. One of them tried to kill me and my brother and sister. We were little, unarmed kids. What did he want with us? We didn't even know how to fight or kill. We're more than Manticore."
She bit at her lip. Awkwardly, she patted my arm.
"And... and I know this sounds crazy and stupid and weak but my mom, she's got weapons at home, guns, and I was thinking of, you know... ending everything. Taking the easy way out."
She breathed out. "My parents were killed when the Pulse came. I didn't have any brothers or sisters. I grew up in a Children's Home. I didn't get much schooling- I sleep up here at nights. Tell me about your dad."
"My dad's name was Splint because he was accident-prone. He was a bit of a fool, he was allergic to practically everything, he was always tripping over his own feet or accidentally having his gun go off and shooting someone in the back of the leg. But he was a hero. He was a really good dad. He was weak sometimes, scared, but everyone always expected him to fail. And he died defending the City against the Ordinaries."
She whistled. "Cool."
I glared at her.
"Don't freak out. I meant it must've been cool to have such a brave dad. Listen, kid, I have one thing to say to you."
"What's that?"
"It's not always going to be this way. And kid- Manticore gave you transgenics one good thing. They made you fighters. You've got the knowhow and the spirit to get as far as you want and when you get there, you'll be the greatest kinds of human beings. No matter what you look like or what you can do."
I nodded. "I'll think about that."
She looked at me curiously. "Do you have a barcode and shit like that?"
"Nope. Those went out with first-generation X-series." I giggled, realising that for the first time in a week I'd made a joke. "I have to get home."
"Bye," I heard her call as I left.
I walked into my home and heard someone clear their throat behind me as I stood still, catching my breath.
"Free?"
"Hey, Steel. Where's Deon?"
She walked to stand with me. "He went home. He doesn't LIVE here, you know."
"So..." I took a deep breath. "Want to do sparring in the living room? I'll kick your ass, show you how a real fighter wins."
"We'll break stuff."
"That's the fun part!" I insisted, and Steel giggled.
"I'm glad you're here."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh. You're my soul sista."
I raised my eyebrows. "And where did you get that?"
"Deon's big sister Gemma said it to me. Think it's corny or somethin'?"
"No. It's just right. Soul sista. I like that, my sista. Now, let's go kick ass," I said.
"Then we can listen to the radio. Pre-Pulse Top Thirty comes on in half an hour."
I groaned. "I stayed out that long? Well, we'll have to kick ass quickly, then."
"Yeah. Best of three?" She linked as arm through mine.
I thought about my sweet little sister Steel's best three- Justin, Deon and me. And right then, I felt like the best of those three.
"Absolutely," I said, and we went to go have fun.
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. Not me. So don't sue.
This was the very place where Steel and I watched our Aunt Amna box on Christmas Night when we were little girls. Everyone knew deep down that Seattle wasn't going to stand for much more transgenic sentimentality. Everyone's parents had insisted we have the day off school- the week in some cases. There'd been countless transgenics ringing radio stations asking for battle songs and anthems to freedom played in honour of the momentous day. Transgenics walked the streets singing the praises of the X5 heroes- Max, Zack, even the long-dead Eva. I'd smiled at that last one. I always felt a strange closeness to Eva... nobody had ever been able to shake my belief that it was her ghost that saved us in the riot.
Now, Seattle was at the end of its tether with our Teen Transgenic Block Party. Everyone could stay up all night- all week if we wanted. Music was pumping from every direction and keeping the citizens awake. We knew we were trying their patience but we of the freak nation, the former City residents, we seized any chance to celebrate. We were not religious; the older transgenics didn't have birthdays... an anniversary for everyone was just what we wanted.
I frowned as some men and women in uniform shoved through the crowd of dancing transgenics. I could tell they were scared. Even from far away I sensed them quaking in our presence and smelled their fear. There was a veritable army of sector police.
"We will have to ask you to end this unauthorised party! You are purposely harassing the nearby Seattle residents and they won't stand for it!" yelled an officer into a bullhorn.
Eyes, animal and human and luminous under crumpled paper lanterns strung above us and numerous bonfires (we were always suckers for a good bonfire) glared.
Steel, who was nearby dancing with a human-looking transgenic boy, scowled. "What's up with you crashing our party?" she yelled. "This party is for transgenics ONLY!"
There were yells of agreement. The square was filled with young adults who were children when they escaped Manticore and second-generation X-series- basically all the teen transgenics of Seattle.
I felt so proud of Steel, who had always been so shy and unassuming and downtrodden... more so since Dad died. I was glad she'd made a friend, the transgenic boy seemed to be making her laugh. She'd been giggling at almost everything he said to her.
The sector police were being jostled about. There was a commotion nearby the band as some police tried to take them into custody.
The crowd gave a collective roar and sprang into battle.
"Come on!" I heard Steel call to her friend, laughing. "I love a good fight!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him right into the action.
We all loved a good fight. I cheered them on from my perch up on the crates and wondered idly why Steel's little boyfriend had looked so hesitant to join in.
The police ended up being thrown out of the city. Our party spilled out into the surrounding streets. I knew we'd been bad in a way that Manticore never would have stood for. We hadn't followed orders, we hadn't been silent and respectful- and I loved it. It felt like we were more than Manticore, more than our parents, more than our faces.
And as the sun came up Justin, Steel and I danced alone down the street to the current apartment block to the tunes that had gotten stuck in our heads since the night before. We laughed at jokes only we could ever understand and related childhood anecdotes only transgenics could ever share. Justin was fifteen and had a black eye from the fight, which he proudly called his 'red badge of courage' and pointed out to the two of us every few minutes.
My big brother and little sister were still my best friends. I knew other transgenic kids and they were my friends, and I was civil to the other kids in the apartment block, but they knew I could kick their asses all the way to snowy Canada if they messed with me. But I'd always gotten on quite well with the two of them and the death of our father had united us like the first-generation X5s of the past. A unit. A squadron. A family.
Mom had been having her own fun all night. She'd been to parties, bars and spent an hour in a club even though it hurt her head like anything what with her hearing. She was making breakfast for us and even consenting to cutting our school lunches. We whined and complained about being sent off to school, not that we were tired, oh no. I whined because I wanted to hang onto this wonderful feeling all day, all my life if I could.
"What did you kids do at the party?" she asked, cutting the crusts off Steel's meat sandwich.
"I got this!" said Justin, pointing at his 'red badge'. Steel and I groaned and shoved him.
"Steel got in a fight. She kicked ass, didn't you, Steel?" I volunteered, swirling a finger through the margarine and then trying to dip it in the sugar. Mom slapped at my hand and gave me a warning look.
"I also met a boy. He was nice," Steel said modestly.
Justin and I laughed uproariously. "You did more than that! You pulled the best-looking transgenic boy there! Too bad he's only a baby," I said, giggling.
"Twelve is not a baby," said Steel, scowling at our good-natured teasing. "He's only a few months shy of turning thirteen anyhow."
"Maybe you should give him a call, Free," kidded Justin.
And that was all that was said for a long time about Steel's little boyfriend, as I called him. There were grumbles over the months about transgenics from the Seattle residents as we got into riots, scared schoolchildren with our twisted, furry brethren leaping from sewer drains and laughing at their screams, complained constantly about the lack of tolerance on their part.
I turned fourteen and Steel was suddenly thirteen, unbelievable as she'd always been so YOUNG. She was the child who'd loved cars and stories and making things and fixing things and was always honest and true. Now she was all those things but better and older. Justin and I got impatient with her for being slow but somewhere behind those eyes, the dark of our father Splint, she was taking in more than we realised.
One night, the moment Mom walked through the door Steel ambushed her with stealth and speed Manticore would have been proud of. "Mom, I'd like to bring a friend over for the evening tomorrow night. Is that OK with you?"
"Well, if you want... I can't remember the last time any of you brought a guest over here."
I came out of the bathroom with my hair wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush dangling from my hand. "You can't do sparring matches in our living room, Mom. We break things."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Many dedicated transgenics fought and slaved since childhood so that you could grow up in peace and you want to do sparring when your friends come over?"
"Can we send out for pizza?" asked Steel excitedly. "Or Chinese food? Those are our favourites. And- and-"
I hadn't seen Steel this hyper in years. "She's not getting both, I hope?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "She's getting spoiled, Mom. Remember a time when our Christmas presents consisted wholly of a pair of shoes apiece?"
"It's not that much more even now," said Mom fairly. "Steel, either pizza or Chinese but not both, OK? I have to go and take off my makeup."
Steel immediately ran onto the street to the payphone to call her friend.
The next evening, I was lying on my stomach doing my Biology homework when Steel came through the door followed by her friend. Seeing as Steel was so enthusiastic about this particular guest I was determined to make a good impression. I jumped to my feet and gasped, laughing. "Hey, I remember you!" I said in amazement.
Steel said, "OK, uh, Free, this is my friend Deon. Deon, this is my older sister, Free."
"Yeah, you're the one who was with Steel at the party last year," I said, walking around him in a circle, taking in every angle. "I definitely remember you."
"Uh, hey," he said nervously.
"So what series are your parents? X5 like ours?" I enquired.
Deon coughed and stared at the floor. I didn't get it. The last time I'd seen him he'd been talking constantly, Steel had been laughing at everything he'd said. Maybe he just clicked with her more than others.
"Deon, why don't you go get some water and look around the kitchen?" asked Steel meaningfully. He shrugged slightly and walked into the kitchen.
"Er, nice guy-" I began, but Steel turned to me forcefully.
"Don't say a word," she hissed. "Listen, Free, there's one thing about Deon that isn't... um... ideal."
"What's that?"
"Well, for one thing, don't ask him what series his parents are or what part of the City he lived in."
"How come?"
Steel smiled grimly. "Free, Deon's not a transgenic. He's an Ordinary."
I froze.
"Free? Say something."
"You traitor."
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," joked Steel.
"You have an Ordinary boyfriend?" I demanded.
Steel frowned. "He's not my boyfriend." She suddenly grinned. "Not exactly."
I decided to save those arguments for later. "If he's not a transgenic then what was he doing at the block party?"
"Deon and some of his friends sneaked into the City to see what transgenic kids do at parties. Then we got talking and he decided to stay for awhile and talk to me instead of going back out with his friends. He's really fun to talk to, Free-"
"Don't you remember what they used to DO to us?" I snarled.
"Oh, don't," countered Steel. "'There is no I in team', 'Mission', 'Duty'- what is so wrong with me having an Ordinary friend over? It's not like I'm going to marry him or something!"
"Steel, you are being completely-"
"Free, there is more than one way to be a transgenic. Rather than making things hard for them, can't we try to put it behind us?"
This was the girl who'd stood with me while my brother and his friends shouted at reporters beyond the boundary fence. I remembered how little we'd been and the feeling of her hand in mine. I'd protected her.
I blinked. "They KILLED our dad, Steel!" I hissed. "You're a transgenic. Even your name is transgenic! Steel Xavier, remember? Xavier for 'X-series'? For the little baby made out of steel? REMEMBER?"
Steel looked at me coolly. "I remember. And I'm proud of where I come from. But right now I'm going to go and hang out with Deon- not 'cause he's an Ordinary or I'm second-generation X5. 'Cause he's my friend." Steel turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen.
I couldn't do my homework now. All I thought about was my little sister, my sweet, naive little sister... being corrupted by some Ordinary.
Justin came through the door. He was barely inside when I jumped him. "There is an ORDINARY in the house," I hissed, using tones most girls use when talking about intruders or at the worst, cockroaches.
"So what? You can take 'em, can't you?" asked Justin perplexedly.
I rolled my eyes and said, "Yeah, but it's a friend of Steel! She's fraternising with the enemy!"
Justin raised his eyebrows. "Well, I don't understand that. Every Ordinary in the district is scared to death of us."
"No, Justin, every Ordinary in the district is scared to death of you and me. Steel wouldn't hurt a fly."
Justin contemplated this. "Girl or boy?"
"Boy. Name's- Deon." I pronounced it like a loathsome swearword.
"Well, did she bring him home voluntarily?"
Why was he asking these dumb questions? He was usually so quick.
"Yes, but-"
"Aw, c'mon, Free. Give her a break," he said easily. "I talk with Ordinaries all the time."
I felt my jaw drop as Justin sauntered into the kitchen. Everyone was a traitor.
Over the next few days it seemed like my two best friends had deserted me. It hit me just how much time I spent with Steel, because now she seemed to spend all that time with her new friend Deon. I realised that Justin had his own friends, many of whom seemed to be Ordinaries. I cried myself to sleep at night.
I stood sullenly in line for food with a coupon and an ID card in my hand a week later. Steel and Deon stood behind me- as usual; he was making her laugh. I wished more than anything I could have her back. I could have killed Deon for taking my sister from me.
I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. The unity of Terminal City was dead.
"Free, we're next," I heard her say.
I scowled at her. "You're a big girl," I told her venomously. "You do it." I shoved our ration cards and ID into her hands and ran off.
I found myself in a part of Seattle unknown to me. I climbed up the tallest housing block I could find.
Sadly, I gazed out into the greyed city, the graffiti covering walls blurring with my tears.
"Hey- I sleep here!" demanded someone. A skinny young woman with dyed hair scrambled onto the roof. She stopped, bewildered, when she saw I was crying. "Are you all right?"
"You don't want to talk to me," I said sadly. "I'm second-generation Manticore transgenic. X5."
She cocked her head to the side. "Yes, and I'm German-Swiss-Polish-American, but you don't see me crying about it."
"I don't want to cry. I was taught not to cry. I can't cry. I mustn't cry."
"Well, that's pretty stupid."
"I'm crying because everyone seems to be betraying me and I didn't even know it. My brother and sister are fraternising with Ordinaries behind my back. They're my best friends."
The young woman sat down next to me. "I get it. You're one of those transgenics who hold a grudge against us. And you're upset and scared because your friends are getting over it faster than you, and for you, forgiving us isn't an option."
"But- I feel so bad. My little sister has an Ordinary for a boyfriend, and I don't know what sort of stuff he's putting into her mind. She's forgotten... they used to tease her so much at school that she couldn't get through a whole day, she just couldn't. My big brother and I, we'd beat up the kids who bullied her so bad that they wouldn't look at her cross-eyed. And she thanked us and it was good, it was OK because we were protecting her. What's happened to her?"
The woman asked, "So you hate the non-transgenics full stop?"
"I don't hate people because of what their parents are. That's not what I was taught." I began to cry again. "I hate them because of what they did to us. They shot my dad. They killed the X5 heroes- Tinga Smith, my mom's twin, Eva. One of them tried to kill me and my brother and sister. We were little, unarmed kids. What did he want with us? We didn't even know how to fight or kill. We're more than Manticore."
She bit at her lip. Awkwardly, she patted my arm.
"And... and I know this sounds crazy and stupid and weak but my mom, she's got weapons at home, guns, and I was thinking of, you know... ending everything. Taking the easy way out."
She breathed out. "My parents were killed when the Pulse came. I didn't have any brothers or sisters. I grew up in a Children's Home. I didn't get much schooling- I sleep up here at nights. Tell me about your dad."
"My dad's name was Splint because he was accident-prone. He was a bit of a fool, he was allergic to practically everything, he was always tripping over his own feet or accidentally having his gun go off and shooting someone in the back of the leg. But he was a hero. He was a really good dad. He was weak sometimes, scared, but everyone always expected him to fail. And he died defending the City against the Ordinaries."
She whistled. "Cool."
I glared at her.
"Don't freak out. I meant it must've been cool to have such a brave dad. Listen, kid, I have one thing to say to you."
"What's that?"
"It's not always going to be this way. And kid- Manticore gave you transgenics one good thing. They made you fighters. You've got the knowhow and the spirit to get as far as you want and when you get there, you'll be the greatest kinds of human beings. No matter what you look like or what you can do."
I nodded. "I'll think about that."
She looked at me curiously. "Do you have a barcode and shit like that?"
"Nope. Those went out with first-generation X-series." I giggled, realising that for the first time in a week I'd made a joke. "I have to get home."
"Bye," I heard her call as I left.
I walked into my home and heard someone clear their throat behind me as I stood still, catching my breath.
"Free?"
"Hey, Steel. Where's Deon?"
She walked to stand with me. "He went home. He doesn't LIVE here, you know."
"So..." I took a deep breath. "Want to do sparring in the living room? I'll kick your ass, show you how a real fighter wins."
"We'll break stuff."
"That's the fun part!" I insisted, and Steel giggled.
"I'm glad you're here."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh. You're my soul sista."
I raised my eyebrows. "And where did you get that?"
"Deon's big sister Gemma said it to me. Think it's corny or somethin'?"
"No. It's just right. Soul sista. I like that, my sista. Now, let's go kick ass," I said.
"Then we can listen to the radio. Pre-Pulse Top Thirty comes on in half an hour."
I groaned. "I stayed out that long? Well, we'll have to kick ass quickly, then."
"Yeah. Best of three?" She linked as arm through mine.
I thought about my sweet little sister Steel's best three- Justin, Deon and me. And right then, I felt like the best of those three.
"Absolutely," I said, and we went to go have fun.
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. Not me. So don't sue.