Seneca Rebel
53

TWO DAYS AFTER our arrival back in Seneca, Dom and I began our declassification project under the wings of S.O.I.L. They didn’t want to waste any time, but they also didn’t want to distract us from what we’d originally been brought to do here. We started to meet every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after sessions ended for the day. An empty acoustic carrier would take us on a ten minute trip from S.E.R.C. to the Claytor Lake computer center. We always arrived just three minutes after three and stayed through dinner. Crazy to think that only a few weeks before, we had been on the run from S.O.I.L., and now we were spearheading our own S.O.I.L. operation.

One of the great ironies was that Gregory was obliged to serve our project. Once a week he flew down to Claytor Lake to assist us and make sure we had everything we needed. He definitely bit his tongue a lot and did what he had to do, but I could tell it was torture for him. I wasn’t into causing people discomfort, but there was a sweet satisfaction in seeing Gregory so alienated.

Dom and I were given the privilege of naming the project. We decided to call it The Brooklyn Project both as homage to the New York City borough’s “strength in unity” motto, and to the place where our own triumphant journey began.

Our leader, Magnus, was a S.O.I.L. agent, fluent in both Operation Crystal and Necrolla Carne. He was an Albino Korean, with extremely light blue eyes, the color of purified water reflecting the LA sky and spiky blond hair. Impeccable blue S.O.I.L. attire covered his lean, five nine frame. We knew nothing about Magnus other than his first name, though, come to think of it, it could have been his last name. Oh, and that he was allergic to walnuts. He would track down people’s snacks like a bloodhound, to make sure there weren’t walnuts anywhere near him. It was like his kryptonite. Magnus disclosed everything about Necrolla Carne to us. Well, everything as far as we knew. Meanwhile, each of the fifteen hundred people that worked in the Claytor Lake computer district only knew the tidbit of information they needed to get their jobs done for the project.

Dom and I set up in a domed room that overlooked the vast floor of data analysts and tech staff that worked at computer hubs. We were on the other side of the blue mirror now. I sat in front of a panel that displayed the mainframe data which I had remotely accessed and used to break my own entanglement. The entangled brain of every citizen of Seneca resided there. I know I said nothing could surprise me, but this glimpse into the utter enormity of Crystal proved me wrong.

Our DNA categorized us all. To put it simply, we were

grouped alongside those who were most similar to us genetically. Although we didn’t know it, the specifics of each of our DNA was the fundamental data that had been collected and tested prior to our offers to join Seneca. Elaborate DNA profiling was used to ensure that the entire population abided by the society’s regulations. It was how Seneca’s citizens were protected from disease, both physical and mental, and also how optimal procreation scenarios were projected. Basically, aside from being recruited on the basis of knowledge and skill, it came down to the science of who we were.

On Monday we had gone through one huge lot of DNA profiles and removed the quantum entanglement that had been placed between the Seneca mainframe and their bloods. Nobody felt a thing. They wouldn’t even realize that something had happened. It was the most rewarding experience of my life to pull the trigger and break each entanglement.

On Wednesday we paced our way through the second group of DNA profiles. One by one, Dom pulled up data ports on each Senecan, and then passed them off to me to apply the quantum entanglement break code. We’d store the confirmation record and move on to the next one. Our routine became second nature.

We were able to joke with each other and talk about other things in the midst of our work, nearly forgetting that it was a super confidential, technologically grand application. We grew closer and closer by the day, attached at the hip around the clock. If we weren’t together, we were FigureFlexing. Yep, Dom and I had become one of those sickeningly cute couples.

Something felt peculiar to me that Wednesday afternoon, though. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something in the air. It was kind of like that game where you’d feel a tap on the shoulder, but when you’d turn around to look, there’d be nothing there. I did notice, though, that Dom was staring at me all the time. The only time he’d look away was to double-check his work. I’d gone from trying my darnedest to get this guy’s attention back in September, to December, when he wouldn’t quit looking at me. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”

“Whoever said I was nice?”

I poked him in the side. He hated that. Like I hated it when he would hold my legs down and tickle my feet. Really, I hated anything that had to do with feet. As our poke-and-tickle routine was going on, we didn’t notice Magnus standing there with his arms crossed in a supreme look of displeasure. We both quickly straightened up, and got back to our computers.

“Glad you guys are having so much fun. This isn’t a serious operation or anything.”

“My apologies, Magnus, I just can’t resist this girl. Can you blame me?” Dom was back. My confident, sarcastic, “blue combat boots,” who wasn’t intimidated by the authoritative set. He was so much more attractive this way. I couldn’t wait until the end of today when we could hop on our private acoustic carrier ride for ten minutes alone together before going back to our separate residences.

Magnus couldn’t be bothered. He rolled his eyes, “Just get through the second batch of profiles and we’ll call it a day.” And he left the room.

We shared a grin and got back down to business. It was quiet for all of fifteen minutes, just clicks and taps as the entanglements were dismantled, one by one.

“Oh yeah, now that is one good looking genetic profile.”

I looked over. Dom was biting his bottom lip, looked at me deviously out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing over there?”

“Oh, just checking out some hot chick’s DNA.”

I scanned outside the window to see if Magnus was around.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble!”

“Worth it. Oooh lala.”

“Stop!” But I was curious. What was he doing?

“You sure you want me to stop? I think you’ll want to see this.”

“What!?”

“You, lovely. You...”

I double-checked to make sure Magnus wasn’t watching, rolled my desk chair over to Dom’s. He nodded up to the monitor that contained a DNA profile. It was mine.

“You’re into that sorta thing, aren’t you? Bar graphs, charts?”

“You know me so well.” I checked out the data on me. My name, residential sector location and my DNA profile. It was all right there.

“Sexy profile.”

I nudged him, “Thanks... I guess.”

“While we’re here, we should cross our DNA profiles to make sure we’re not related or anything,” he joked. “What if we have an ancestor in common, like twenty generations ago? Don’t you want to know?”

“Gross. No. I don’t even want the thought in my head!”

And then Dom clicked down one profile below mine on the screen, “Whoa... take a look at that.”

“What?”

He didn’t answer. He just moved in closer to the monitor, his face glowing blue. From the look on Dom’s face, I gathered something pretty astonishing was on that screen.

“What? Tell me!”

“This anonymous DNA profile... is a fifty percent match to you.”

“Huh?” I was completely bewildered, “That’s impossible. Unless they already have my mom’s data in here.” There were only two people who could match me at exactly fifty percent.

My heart rate started to climb.

“Nope. Not your mom. The person with this DNA is in South America. Puerto Lopez, Colombia. And unless your mom is really a man...”

“Dom, seriously, stop playing. This isn’t funny.”

“Doro, I’m not playing.”

“This is impossible. That could only be...” My eyes widened, stomach dropped. My heart plunged into my throat.

“My dad.”

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