The Individuality Gene Page 2

  It was Kidd.

  It had been ages since Will Jr. had seen him last, yet he instantly recognized him. The child-like features. The small frame. Will Jr. felt stupid for not identifying him sooner.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Kidd. “Didn’t I just go visit you and your mother?”

  Will Jr. chuckled.

  “I was three the last time you came to see us.”

  Kidd seemed surprised.

  “Really?” he said, scratching his head. “And how old are you now?”

  “Almost fifteen.”

  Kidd’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Fifteen? Is that why you’re here? Is it time?”

  “Time for what?”

  Kidd faltered.

  “It doesn’t matter. Why are you here?”

  “I need your help,” said Will Jr. He retrieved the memory chip from his pocket and showed it to Kidd.

  “I see Kara finally decided to give you the memory organizer.”

  “Something like that.”

  “So, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be home, reliving your father’s memories?”

  “I can’t,” said Will Jr. “The third memory chip is broken.”

  “Broken? Let me see.” He took the small disc and studied it. “You’re right. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Can you fix it?”

  “Of course.”

  Will Jr. breathed a sigh of relief as Kidd got to work. The process was slow, but Will Jr. chose to see it as an opportunity.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why were you so surprised when you learned how old I was?”

  Kidd hesitated.

  “I’m immortal. Time means nothing to me, so keeping track of it is difficult. I once spent an entire century sleeping. It felt good, but you wouldn’t believe how sore I was when I woke up.”

  Had such a statement been uttered by anybody else, Will Jr. would not have believed it, but he had seen enough strange things to know Kidd was telling the truth.

  “How old are you?”

  Kidd chuckled.

  “I’ve lost track,” he admitted, “but I believe I’m in my eleventh millennium.”

  Will Jr. was stunned. He had always known Kidd was older than he seemed, but he only now realized how truly ancient he was.

  “Does it ever get boring?”

  “Sometimes, but I keep myself busy. You wouldn’t believe the satisfaction of seeing a project come to fruition after a century spent working on it.”

  “You’re right,” said Will Jr. “I can’t.”

  Kidd chuckled. “You remind me of your father.”

  “I do?”

  “You have the same sense of humour. You also look a lot like him.”

  Will Jr. had only caught glimpses of his father. A reflection here. A dream there. An encounter with an older version of himself. The mental image he carried of him was hazy, but Will Jr. cherished it, and the thought that he looked like him was comforting.

  “What was he like?”

  “He was a great man and a good friend. It’s unfortunate things had to end the way they did.”

  Will Jr.’s heart started beating faster. Though he had relived two of his father’s adventures, he still had no clue what had become of him.

  “What does that mean? What happened?”

  Kidd stopped working and looked at Will Jr.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not allowed to tell you.”

  “Not allowed? What does that mean?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Kidd as he went back to work. “I can’t tell you any more.”

  There was a moment of silence before the short scientist spoke once more.

  “Did you know I was the one who created the memory organizer? I designed it for your father so he could store his memories after… well, that’s not important. I used his DNA as a security measure, ensuring only someone directly related to him could access his memories.”

  “Why?”

  “You never know what may happen.”

  “What does that—”

  “It’s fixed,” announced Kidd, and handed over the chip.

  Will Jr. took the silver disc and inspected it.

  “Are you sure it will work?” he asked, staring at the hairline fracture that adorned it.

  “Certain.”

  Will Jr. was impressed. It had been less than an hour since he discovered the disc was damaged and already it was repaired. Kidd truly was a genius.

  “Thanks,” he said. “How can I repay you?”

  “Come visit me every once in a while. It gets lonely here.”

  Will Jr. considered pointing out it would be a lot less lonely if he moved to Sanctuary, but he chose not to.

  “I promise,” he said. “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Say hello to Kara for me.”

  “I will,” said Will Jr. as he made his way toward the exit. “Bye.”

  “See you soon,” said Kidd, but the teenager was already gone.

  Will Jr. retraced his step all the way to the front entrance. This time, the door slid open as soon as he touched it. Stepping into the cool evening air, he hurried down the steps and rushed toward the forest. After a short jog among the glowing trees, he emerged from the forest. Not long after, he reached his house.

  “Hey, Mom,” he called as he entered. “I’m back.”

  “How did it go?” came his mother’s voice from the kitchen. “Did Kidd fix the memory chip?”

  “Yeah.” Will Jr. rushed past the kitchen on his way to his bedroom. His mother was making dinner, but she was still in the early stages of preparation, which meant he should have time to relive his father’s third set of memories before he was called down for the evening meal.

  “I’ll be in my room,” he said as he rushed up the stairs. “Kidd says hello.” His mother’s response was too muffled to understand, but he did not bother asking her to repeat it. He continued up the stairs until he reached his bedroom.

  He did not notice the young man sitting on his bed until the door was closed and the memory chip had been extracted from his pocket.

  “JJ!” yelped Will Jr. at the sight of his best friend. “What are you doing here?”

  JJ seemed nervous.

  “I-I forgot s-something the last time I w-was here,” he stammered. Jumping to his feet, he hurried past his friend and pressed his hand to the door. By the time Will Jr. could think of something to say, JJ was already gone.

  “That was weird,” he muttered. Under normal circumstances, he would pursue his friend and insist he tell him what was wrong, but he had more important things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that he would see him on the parkourball field in just a few hours. He could investigate his friend’s strange behaviour then. For now, he had a whole new set of memories to relive.

  Leaping onto the bed, Will Jr. retrieved the memory organizer from under his pillow and inserted the memory chip into it. The metal barbs folded inward, trapping the disc. Moments later, the triangular flaps followed suit.

  Will Jr. waited with breathless anticipation for the device to come to life.

  A few seconds ticked by. That was normal. It sometimes took a while for the memory organizer to read the chip. But when nearly a dozen seconds elapsed and nothing happened, the teenager started to worry. What if Kidd was wrong? What if the memory chip was still damaged? What if he never got to—

  A dozen metallic legs erupted from the disc’s perimeter. They flailed about for a moment before gaining traction. Flipping onto its stomach, the metallic insect scurried across the young man’s palm and latched onto his wrist. Will Jr. watched as a familiar white light travelled up his arm. Moments later, his father’s memories invaded his mind, and he lost consciousness.

  Memory 1

  I awake to confusion and fear. My heart is racing, and my palms are sweaty. The sheets cling to my body like a drowning victim to a life preserver. I feel trapped and panicked.
My eyes dart left and right, but my surroundings are too dim to make out.

  “Where am I?” I grunt, still struggling to free myself from the tangle of covers.

  “Where do you think?” comes a sarcastic voice from my right. I think it’s Jonn until I notice the high pitch. Kara would never be so mocking, so that leaves only one option.

  Avalon.

  “Release me!” I demand.

  The woman chuckles.

  “Release yourself. It’s not my fault you move in your sleep.”

  I struggle for a while before recognizing the voice. It’s not Avalon. Nor is it Kara.

  It’s Angela, my slumber neighbour from the orphanage.

  What is she doing here? I wonder. For that matter, where am I? It’s not until I manage to escape the claws of my twisted bedding that I finally get an answer.

  I’m back at the orphanage.

  What am I doing here?

  I scan my surroundings but find no useful clues. Rows of beds. Matching nightstands. Sleeping orphans. The sight is both comforting and panic-inducing.

  Why am I here?

  I stumble out of bed, my shaky legs barely able to support me. I bump into Angela’s bed and nearly fall.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I mutter, still struggling to comprehend what’s happening.

  I scan my surroundings once more but find nothing of use. I’ll need to venture beyond the dormitory to find the answers I seek.

  I head off, my legs now stronger.

  “Where are you going?” asks Angela.

  “Bathroom,” I respond. I meant it to be a lie, but the truth is I actually need to use the facilities. In fact, I’m surprised I managed to ignore my overfilled bladder for so long.

  I hurry across the dormitory, speeding past row after row of beds. A few orphans stir, but none wake. Not even the boy whose bed is located next to the bathroom. The light blinds me for a moment, but my vision quickly adjusts. I approach the toilet and take care of business.

  The next few moments are total bliss. My euphoria wanes when I go to wash my hands and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m so pale I may as well be a vampire. My hair is matted and beads of sweat pepper my brow. I also spot a few budding pimples, but I ignore them. It’s not until I begin washing my hands that my elation returns.

  My hourglass symbol is gone.

  I stare at my wrist for a full minute before accepting the image my eyes relay to my brain. As impossible as it seems, the mysterious symbol that has plagued my existence for the past few months is gone. So is my mother’s ring, though that means nothing. I could have removed it. Or lost it. The same can’t be said for the symbol that once adorned my wrist.

  “What the hell is going on?” I mutter as I finish washing up. My first thought is that I’m back in the Virtuality Trainer, but that seems unlikely. My second is that this is a trick, designed to manipulate me into doing something I wouldn’t normally do. But what? And why?

  I ponder those questions as I unlock the bathroom door. Flicking off the light, I reintegrate the dormitory, my eyes once again requiring a moment to adjust. By the time they grow accustomed to the ambient darkness, it’s too late to halt my momentum, and I slam into the individual standing before me.

  A surprised grunt escapes me as I stumble backward. I nearly fall, but a helping hand offers me support. It takes a few seconds, but I regain my balance. By then, my eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, and I recognize the person standing before me.

  It’s Grace.

  I haven’t seen her in what feels like years, and the sight of her fills me with joy. Unable to resist the euphoria that fills me, I leap forward and hug her. She remains frozen for a moment before wrapping her arms around me and squeezing.

  “I missed you so much,” I say.

  “What are you talking about?” she asks. “It’s only been a few hours since we saw each other.”

  It has? Clearly, there’s much I still don’t understand, but I refuse to let that keep me from enjoying the magical moment.

  “What’s up with you?” she asks once the hug ends.

  “What do you mean?”

  She takes a step back and looks me up and down.

  “You look exhausted. Did you have a bad dream?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but I now realize the past few months feel like just that. A bad dream. The thought of Kara and Jonn being figments of my imagination is ludicrous, but it would explain a lot. Nonetheless, I refuse to believe such a thing until I have concrete proof.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  Grace’s frown gives way to a look of giddy excitement.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “You do?”

  She nods.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  I shrug and do as I’m told. Moments later, my friend’s delicate fingers grab hold of my hand and lead me out of the dormitory. I know the orphanage like the back of my hand, but the strangeness of the situation keeps me from identifying our destination. It’s not until I’m allowed to open my eyes that I realize where we are.

  The kitchen is deserted, which is normal given the late hour. Nonetheless, the lights are on and a birthday cake stands on the nearby table. A dozen lit candles protrude from the frosty treat.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, now more confused than ever.

  “What’s wrong?” asks Grace. “You didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, did you?”

  The revelation hits me like a slap to the face.

  “It’s my birthday?”

  She nods.

  “How old am I?”

  Grace frowns.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shake my head.

  “You’re fifteen.”

  I wince. That’s exactly what I was afraid of. While I’m relieved the Avalon threat is nothing more than a figment of my imagination, the revelation that Jonn and Kara are, in fact, characters in a made-up dream world is disheartening. I truly loved Kara. As for Jonn, well, I was starting to grow accustomed to him. The thought of never seeing them again saddens me. The only upside is that the missing symbol finally makes sense.

  None of the things I believed occurred in the past few months actually happened. It was all a dream, a nightmarish blend of pain, sadness, and unforgettable moments that will remain with me for the rest of my life.

  “Are you all right?” asks Grace. I don’t understand what she means until I notice the tear rolling down my cheek.

  “I’m fine. I just can’t believe you did all this for me.”

  Grace gives me a warm, motherly smile. The sight of it reminds me my mother’s note was also a figment of my imagination. That, more than anything else, fills me with sadness. But the future isn’t set in stone. I may yet meet my mother. And my father.

  “What are you waiting for?” asks Grace. “Blow out your candles.”

  I wipe away another tear and approach the cake. The candles are half-melted, and pools of hot wax have appeared on the cake. Staring at them, I inhale and get ready to blow.

  “Don’t forget to make a wish,” says Grace.

  I pause and formulate my wish.

  I want to meet my parents.

  I lean forward and blow.

  No sooner have I extinguished the wicks than the lights flicker and die. Darkness engulfs the kitchen for a moment before the power comes back on and the lights return.

  “That was strange,” says Grace.

  It was. So strange, in fact, I can’t help wondering if perhaps it had something to do with my wish. I never believed in such things, but given the vividness of my dream and the oddness of the past few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if—

  The distant sound of a door opening and closing reaches us. I’ve heard that creaking often enough to know someone just entered the orphanage’s front entrance.

  “T
hat’s odd,” mutters Grace. “I thought I locked up.”

  She glances at me, and I shrug.

  “Stay here,” she instructs. “I’ll be right back.”

  She heads off to investigate the noise. I remain seated for a moment before my curiosity gets the better of me. Standing, I step out of the kitchen and creep down the dark corridor. I soon reach the end and peek around the corner.

  Grace stands by the front door, talking to a stranger. The newcomer’s face remains hidden in shadows, but her delicate features tell me she’s a woman.

  “You don’t understand,” she says. “I’m looking for my son. I was forced to give him up, and now I’ve come to get him.” Her voice sounds familiar, but I can’t figure out why.

  “I’m sorry,” says Grace, “but I’m not allowed to give out private information about our children.”

  “Please,” begs the woman. “I just want to see him.”

  Grace hesitates for a moment before giving in.

  “Very well,” she says. “It’s likely your son was adopted, but I can contact the family and arrange a meeting. What’s his name?”

  “Will,” says the woman. “Will Save.”

  My heart skips a beat. I remain petrified for a moment before stepping out of cover.

  “Mom? Is that you?”

  The woman turns toward me, but her face remains hidden.

  “Will?” she says, stepping forward. She emerges from the shadows, and her identity is finally revealed.

  It’s Avalon.

  Memory 2

  I awake with a yelp. I’m drenched in cold sweat, and my hands are shaking. My heart hammers against my ribcage, begging to be set free. Still disoriented, I scan my surroundings, desperate for a clue. It’s dark, but I catch glimpses of familiar objects.

  A nightstand with a half-empty glass of water and a worn-out letter. A chair stands in the corner of the room. The walls glow ever so softly. The brightness is negligible, but it’s enough to shed light on my current whereabouts.

  I’m in Atlantis.

  I sit, and the walls glow with increased brilliance. I have yet to understand how they know when to glow and when to dim, but at the moment, I couldn’t care less. I glance at my wrist and find a familiar symbol staring back at me.

  I have no idea what the hourglass represents or why it appeared on my skin, but its presence proves my recent encounter with Avalon was but a dream. And it’s wasn’t the first. I’ve had dozens of such nightmares in the three months since the team was disbanded.