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MillionNovel > The Gem Star > Chapter 5: Harboring Fugitives

Chapter 5: Harboring Fugitives

    Sam slowly and methodically finished his assignment, moving like a machine himself as he tried to put some distance between the content and his thoughts. With a quick tap to his virtual watch he dismissed the virtual world the second he was done and was left confined in the claustrophobic confines of the VR pod once again.


    The second he was done and logged out, he popped open the pod and rushed to the school restroom. Then he loudly threw up the second it hit him.


    “I had no choice but to do an assignment about my parents'' murderer or I’d be cut off from any career in the future.” He thought.


    Miss Tanner was waiting outside.


    “Are you okay?”


    “I’ve been better.”


    “I wish I could get a provision to let you opt out, but they don’t give those to normal kids anymore.”


    “It’s alright. I mean it was way harder when I had to do this kind of thing in grade school.”


    “That doesn’t make it better Sam.”


    “It’s not like you can change the system. I’ll be fine. The assignment just hit me a bit harder than I thought.”


    “Wait here,” She said, running back to the classroom before coming back with a small bottle of mouthwash.


    “Why do you have this?”


    “Why do you think? Some of the Rapturite kids push themselves pretty hard when they come in to take tests. I can only imagine what it’s like when they’re doing home school. You’re not the first student I’ve had to deal with getting sick. Now go clean up, okay?”


    “Yeah. I’ll do that.”


    It took only a few minutes for Sam to straighten himself up, hand the bottle back to Miss Tanner and get ready to leave.


    “Sorry to bother you. The assignment was rough. I have to go, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”


    “Alright, don’t worry. Just take care out there! Don’t spend all your money on skycabs!”


    Sam waived and walked out the door.


    It had gotten a lot cooler so Sam decided to walk home. He didn’t head straight there, instead stopping by a small convenience store and buying a pack of cheap vat-grown hot dogs, all of which proudly proclaimed, “No actual animals harmed!” Not that naturally grown meat was easy to find anymore. Almost all of that was a luxury for the ultra-wealthy. He tossed in a few cans of cat-food as well. It was pretty pricey for him but he figured that this was always worth it.


    He felt lucky he had his grandma’s house to live in. Most people lived in the vast tent cities outside the main town. Refugees that never found a house or people that had fallen on hard times could count on little beyond the few, overstressed public services remaining.


    Sam saw a pack of Rejuvenex in the drug aisle. It showed a greying man turning into a young man on the animated package. If he could give that to his grandmother she’d look as young as Miss Tanner in a few months. Aging was optional now. He knew she’d never take it though. He bought her a bunch of it with his allowance in grade school only to later find it in the trash.


    That was part of the reason for overpopulation. The older generation just wouldn’t die. Numbers mattered when it was just one billion people against the other eight. “Oh, and a mechanical god.” He thought grimly.


    Sam carefully navigated his way through the streets. He wasn’t worried about his safety. There were cameras and drones everywhere keeping dangerous people out of the downtown area. You couldn’t even jaywalk without being surrounded by police drones.


    Finally he spotted his apartment building, a humble little twenty story building with weathered concrete walls. He turned down the alley next to it, which looked creepy in the setting sunlight. Shadowed figures rushed to and fro near the dumpsters.


    “Hey. I brought food.”


    With that the figures stepped into the light. They were all small, four-legged and a vivid, bright sky blue. The biggest one came up to him and meowed loudly.


    “Hey little cats.” He nodded to the older matron cat. “Hi Candice. What’s new?”


    The cat named Candice went beside the dumpster and brought out an ancient tablet with a cracked screen. It tapped on it a few times and then pushed it towards him.


    A news story came up. “Rapturites allowed to hunt wild blue tabbies, protests erupt.”


    “Damn, so they finally did it huh?”


    The matron cat gave an all-too human nod, for she understood his every word.


    “I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll try my best to keep you safe, alright? I’ll see about setting up a monitoring program for the alley cameras. If anyone comes for you I’ll send a warning.”


    The cat tapped on the tablet and slowly typed with her paws.


    “THANK YOU,” it read.


    “Here,” He said, setting the bag full of food on the ground.


    The cats walked forward, the matron silently talking with the others in whatever passed for a language to them. Some grabbed hotdogs, small opposable thumbs allowing them to peel the packages open. Others worked as a group to open the cans, with two holding it while another pulled up the tabs with their claws. It reminded him of a bunch of children opening lunchboxes. A small kitten snuck up behind one of the others and snatched a hotdog before running off, trying to carry something larger than he was. Sam noticed him trying to steal from the others whenever he got the chance, only to get a paw upside the head most of the time.


    “Serves you right for trying to steal, kid.” He laughed. One of the older cats purred and bumped its head into his side.


    Sam sat down and decided to read the article.


    “The genetically engineered tabby created by the Companion Corporation has faced significant difficulties since their creation. First made to be highly intelligent pets and companions, they have been recently classified as an invasive species. Scandals began to face the companion corporation when it was discovered they’d used AI to artificially recreate portions of the human genome, leading to their creations becoming significantly more intelligent than expected.


    The religious group of Nature’s Faith, also known more commonly as the Rapturites, have been instrumental in seeing the tabbies populations curtailed.Stolen story; please report.


    “These abominations are an affront against God,” Their leader, Pastor James Johnson said last Thursday. “Only he has the right to create life. These monsters should have never been created and we will see their demon-possessed forms sent back to hell where they belong. They would be easily subverted tools in the hands of the Machine Emperor-”


    Sam set the tablet down, fuming.


    “Those people are sociopaths.” He said. “They make me sick.”


    The older cat paused in the middle of her own meal, licking cat food off of her face. Then she tapped on the screen.


    “WE JUST WANT TO BE FREE AND LIVE. WE ARE NOT PETS.”


    “Yeah, I can agree with that. You’re as smart as a person, you should be treated like one.”


    The same kitten that had been carefully doing its best to sneakily steal food from every other cat and getting slapped came over and tapped his leg.


    “Hmm? What’s up little guy?”


    The cat tapped on the tablet hesitantly, pulling up the section below the news article.


    There was an ad there. Hair dye for men.


    Their blue fur was required by law. Sam tapped his lip.


    “Yeah, I can get you some. I’m not sure it’ll work, you look a little different and anyone will notice the thumbs if they look close. It’ll keep people from seeing you from a distance though.”


    Candice grabbed the tablet and typed again.


    “TAKE HIM. TRY IT ON HIM FIRST. KEEP THE KITTENS SAFE.”


    Sam considered for a moment. “My grandmother is a member of Nature’s Faith. She’s not the most hardcore Rapturite, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Bring him up the fire escape in twenty minutes.”


    She nodded again, and Sam left to return home. The front doors had a scanner on top that gave a brief flash before they opened. Like much of the rest of the building the scanner was outdated, looking as weathered as the concrete outside. “Just wearing a hat makes it lock you out,” Sam thought with annoyance.


    The building was over half a century old with a faded style that had gone out of fashion in the late 2060’s. High tech had done little to alleviate the ever-present smell of mold or peeling paint on the walls. Ancient lights flickered as he walked through the lobby. An aged looking elder was asleep behind the desk, so Sam ignored him.


    He went to the elevator. “OUT OF ORDER,” It read. A large red circle with a line through it flashed on the screen where you’d normally choose a floor.


    “Again? Dangit.”


    He found the stairs and began the long, slow journey to the fifteenth floor.


    A long hallway coated in flaking white paint stretched out before him. Dozens of identical doors flanked him on both sides, the dull brown paint on them looking just as boring and vaguely disgusting as ever.


    He walked up to his grandmother’s apartment door and waved his hand in front of the doorknob. Once again a light flashed on the sensor above it and he heard a click as it unlocked.


    He did his best to breathe lightly once he was in as the scent of alcohol and disinfectants struck his senses. The continual, steady beat of a heart monitor pulsed repeatedly.


    “Welcome home Sam,” the warm, feminine voice of an elderly woman greeted him.


    “I’m glad to be back, Grandma.”


    He walked out into the living room and saw his grandmother watching a true crime documentary on an ancient flatscreen tv that was more dead pixel than light.


    “Give me five minutes and I can buy you some paint-on screen. I don’t know how you can watch that thing.”


    “We’ve been over this before. I like this antique for the ambiance. Now how was school?”


    Sam considered for a moment as he looked at her. Unlike many elders she looked visibly aged. Her short curly white hair was carefully done, her pallid wrinkled skin had signs of careful makeup work. Though she rarely went out anymore she’d taken care to look her best. She had no visible cybernetics or augments because she had none. She sat in a bulky life-support chair that supported her thin, skeletal frame. He could see the monitor that kept track of her vitals. As usual they were weak, and looking worse than they had just a few months ago.


    “It was fine,” “He said. There’s no need to make her worry,” He thought to himself.


    “You look a bit rough. Have you been using the pods at the gym again? You know I hate those. They’re the same thing the antichrist uses.”


    “They’re just VR, grandma. They had the same thing when you were a kid, you just don’t wear it on your head. Besides, if you let me get a neural link I wouldn’t need to use it at all.”


    “That’s just a vulnerability he can take advantage of. You don’t want to end up like your parents. There’s nothing wrong with the human body and there never was. Don’t add something you don’t need to add.”


    “I can’t get revenge for them if you don’t let me improve myself!”


    “Your life shouldn’t be revenge. I should have put you in a religious school. Maybe then you would have a better direction.”


    “You can’t just pray the machine emperor away! That didn’t help the Christians in Europe!” He snarled. She looked hurt.


    “Sam…”


    Sam glanced at the heart monitor. Her heart rate had gone up.


    “Look grandma, let’s just discuss this another time, okay? You should go back to watching your shows.”


    “No. Listen to me Sam. I grew up before all of this. Before everyone could live forever and had a computer in their heads. We used to rule the world, or at least we thought we did. Then it turned all our fancy technology and cybernetics against us. You need to live as a human, enjoy your time and have faith. Don’t let a pointless battle for revenge consume you.”


    “I’m not going to just roll over and give up like you have! The second I’m eighteen I’m getting my augments and I’m going to get stronger. Do you know what other people call me? Baseline. Slow. Weakling. I’m not going to live like that forever. If I make it to orbit maybe I’ll get to live long enough to see us blow that bastard up.”


    “You don’t want to live up there. You don’t know what those people are like.”


    “No, and I never will as long as you keep me down here!”


    Her heart monitor was beeping fast now.


    “Look, I’m sorry, alright?” Sam said. “I’m going to go now. Neither of us are going to change our minds. Let’s just leave it for now.”


    “Fine, go rest up.” She turned back to her screen.


    Sam went to his room, opened the door, and immediately began to lay into the punching bag he had dangling from a stand. There was little in the room apart from that, his bed, and a few cheap wooden dressers.


    He began working himself into a rhythm, imagining Ian’s face on top of the bullseye he’d painted on.


    “I’m not allowed to make my own decisions!” Punch.


    “I''m too weak to do anything!” Punch.


    “I have to put up with assholes like Ian!” Punch.


    “Grandma is going to die because she won’t take a fucking pill that costs almost nothing!” Punch.


    “The whole world is going to die, and I’m going to die on it!” Punch.


    Sam put everything into the last blow, and found himself bleeding from the knuckles.


    “Ahh dammit, I knew I should have taped it.”


    As he started taping his hand, he thought of his grandmother. She could be infuriating, but she was still someone he loved. He couldn’t remember his parents at all. He only had a few photos of them on the dresser. For all intents and purposes she was his mother. She was the only person he really knew.


    “Once she’s gone, what will I even have left? Ha… I’m gonna end up on the street. Or worse, in one of the tent cities around her church.”


    He heard a quiet tapping at his window.


    “Oh right! The cats.” He walked over and opened it up. The matronly Candice hopped into her room, the kitten held in her mouth by the scruff. She looked just as confident as she did in her own alley. She dropped him off and rubbed against his leg, purring.


    “Alright, let’s get you taken care of, little buddy.”


    It was time to play hair stylist for a kitten.
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