CHAPTER TWELVE
Castor
The second Jacinta heard about my surfing accident, she was on the phone with other Dominion executives, demanding they find me a match.
But out of the ten thousand new sign-ups on the east coast, not one was compatible.
I’d gone to sleep, helpless, my hellflares striking like waves between doses of hydromorphone.
Tuesday morning, I woke in a cold sweat from pain-induced nightmares – flashes of a future where I self-medicated and ruined myself, only for the pain to never fade.
Gemma promised me a new tea to try, but I wasn’t betting on it doing anything.
Grandfather fired Jorge as soon as he found out he’d let me halve my dosage.
A feather of pain tickled my palms and I called for Jorge’s replacement. The hydromorphone had worn off, and I’d never say it out loud, but I was scared of the pain. Dosed up, I got dressed and left the house.
The late-afternoon sun blurred just above the glassways.
I could feel its heat, but the UV rays wouldn’t penetrate the sky ceiling.
I walked down my street with no clear direction.
I’d almost drowned yesterday. I couldn’t get back in the water.
Not like this. Would I have to quit surfing?
I had to, right? I didn’t have a choice.
The AB Cup was three weeks away. My chest tightened.
My throat was still sore from choking on the ocean.
I’d been walking for an hour when a car honked. Grandfather was in the driver’s seat of his G-Classe. He collected cars, but I’d never seen him drive one. What was he doing out here? I spotted his tablet on the passenger seat, the solisFind app open. He must’ve tracked my phone.
He rolled down the window. ‘Get in.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to go back home. I can’t – not with everyone staring at me like I’m about to keel over and die …’ I clenched my fists and watched the blue flare scatter beneath my skin. Sure, it wasn’t fatal, but it felt like it was about to take everything from me.
Grandfather nodded. ‘I’m not taking you home. It’s time I shared something with you.’
I hesitated. ‘I don’t think a pep talk is going to help me.’
He took off his glasses, a softness in his blue eyes ringed with the oculsight gold. ‘I’m not going to force you. But I want to take you somewhere I should’ve taken you a long time ago. I thought keeping it from you and Gemma was the right thing to do, but it’s clear now that you need to see it.’
I slipped into the car and buckled my seatbelt.
We didn’t speak. Not as he drove through Crestview and Westlake, not when he cut through uptown and passed Dominion’s headquarters, not when he entered MidCity.
The streets lost their familiarity until we reached the corner that pressed up against South Alta.
The glassways stopped. Sneakers hung from power lines, weeds poked through the cracked sidewalks.
Kids ran around playing tag in a nearby courtyard – mostly gravel, one metal slide – the heat warping the air around it.
A woman covered in sun scars watched over them.
She wasn’t wearing flare shades, and I could see how the whites of her eyes had turned red.
Grandfather parked in the rear parking lot of the opioid treatment center – the one right next to the motel where Jaiden’s parents had OD’d, found side by side with needles still in their arms. I couldn’t breathe. I’d never told Grandfather where that happened. ‘Why are we –’
‘When I was your age, this treatment center wasn’t here,’ he said. ‘It was an old two-story apartment building – small, humble, only seven units. That motel had a diner in the back with the greasiest cheeseburger in Alta Bay. It was damn good.’
I glanced around, then back at him. Grandfather never talked about the past. I knew only what his Dominion biography said online: he grew up in MidCity, won a science exhibition in his junior year of high school, skipped twelfth grade, and earned a full ride to NorCal Dominion – back then, NorCal Tech.
An addict stumbled out of the motel, swaying as he made his way toward the treatment center.
‘You grew up here,’ I said, awe creeping into my voice. ‘In this part of MidCity.’
‘I knew it as South Alta. The neighborhood lines changed forty years ago, in an effort to build the area up. I left on my eighteenth birthday and never came back. This is my first time.’ He paused.
‘I never brought your grandmother here. Your mother and Gemma have never seen it. I meant it when I told myself I’d never return.
No Fox would ever come back here. Eyes forward. ’
He nodded toward the building in front of us, the Dominion logo etched into the glass doors.
‘This was the first opioid center I funded through Dominion’s philanthropy program.
Nearly fifty per cent of the patients here are natural carriers of helical disease with hydromorphone and/or perceta addiction. The other half – pick your poison.’
I shuddered, staring at the patients inside. The addict from the motel shook as he approached one of the nurses, yelling for something, pointing at the veins in his arms.
‘Never going back,’ Grandfather whispered, and I felt like there was more to his story. But him bringing me here – it was as if he knew about my nightmares, about all my fears.
‘I’ve seen the worry in your eyes every time the nurse comes in,’ he said softly.
‘I know what happened to Jaiden’s parents.
Pua reminded your mother and me when she saw you home last night.
I won’t let you grow dependent. I didn’t push myself this far – didn’t make a life for my family and my legacy – only to fail to do what needs to be done when it matters most.’ He wrung his hands on the steering wheel.
‘You have so much ahead of you. So much potential.’
Potential I felt slipping through my fingertips.
I couldn’t surf like this. I didn’t even feel as though I could be around my friends like this – numb just to keep from hurting.
I hadn’t spoken to Nova since she said she needed some time for her family, but I doubted she’d want to keep talking to me if I stayed like this much longer.
‘There’s no match for me. There’s nothing you can do about that. You’re one of the richest men in the world and you can’t fix this.’
Grandfather tapped his solisTablet. My Freedom System file flashed on the holoscreen, a space for my biosig in the bottom right corner.
‘You asked about joining the new pain medication trials. That isn’t an option – it’d be against the rules we have in place.
Though, if you’d let me, there are other rules I can break for you. But you must trust me. No questions.
‘This used to be my future,’ he said, glancing around. ‘I won’t let it become yours. Eyes. Always. Forward.’
My gaze settled back on the motel, room 253. Jaiden hated that number.
I placed my thumb on the biopad and nodded to Grandfather. ‘I trust you. Eyes forward.’
The screen beeped and MATCH FOUND flashed in large letters. I gasped. I had a Pain Carrier. My family had found me a Pain Carrier. I teared up and a laugh escaped me. This was it. Everything I’d worried about drained from my mind. I had a match. The pain would be gone. I’d have my life back.
‘How did you –’ I sputtered. Then I remembered what he’d said. No questions. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered. I didn’t hold back my tears.
Grandfather wiped the corner of his eye and smiled. ‘That’s my grandson. My legacy.’ He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back.
Grandfather set up the transfer before the sun could set.
I tried to relax as Jacinta pushed my wheelchair through the private entrance of the Crestview Freedom System Lab.
I caught sight of the waiting room as we passed the white leather seats, crystal lights, a glimpse of the inspirational posters.
We continued down the hall, passing sterile rooms and a small alcove for taking vitals before we came to two sets of heavy double doors: one labeled soundproof, the other carrying a faint scent.
Lavender and orange incense drifted toward us as we entered the transfer suite.
I gritted my teeth as Gemma helped me into the silk-cushioned patient’s bed.
‘Would you like some tea?’ A nurse approached with an assortment of loose-leaf options, none of which I knew anything about.
I reached for one, but Gemma swatted my hand away. ‘He’ll take this one.’ She pointed to a small tin filled with red threads and dried fruit.
‘Even when I’m laid up in a hospital bed, you’re bossing me around.’
‘One, this is not a hospital. And two, I’m older, so I’ll always be the boss.’ She grinned, and I tried to return it, smiling through the pain shooting across my kneecaps.
Gemma scooped the loose leaves into a mesh infuser and lowered it into the glass teapot while Jacinta paced at the edge of the room.
‘Jacinta – Mom – you’re making me nervous.’
‘There’s no need to be nervous, dear,’ she said, still pacing.
I caught her eye, and she sighed. ‘I know everything will be fine. I can still hate that my son has to go through this.’
‘Thanks for caring,’ I said, and I meant it.
Pan pipes played over the speakers. It was a little theatrical, but also soothing.
I tried to ignore the blue current under my skin and sucked in a shaky breath.
This was it. I’d become a Pain Giver after this.
I wasn’t made to carry my helical disease.
Not everyone could carry pain. Not everyone had the same tolerance or strength.
We weren’t made equal in that way. It was why Grandfather created the Freedom System – for Pain Givers to have a chance at living, and without addiction.
‘Are we ready?’ I recognized the doctor standing in the doorway from Bay General – Dr Orion.
I’d seen her around the Dominion offices too.
Part of Dominion’s policy required its doctors to volunteer a few shifts a week at the MidCity and South Alta hospitals.
Dr Orion’s white-blonde hair was pulled into a severe bun, her lips painted solar-flare red.
I nodded.
Dr Orion snapped on her blue gloves and motioned for my right hand.
‘I’m sure you’re an expert on what’s about to happen, but I find that talking is the best distraction while I work.
’ She swiped an alcohol wipe over the inside of my wrist, followed by a newly patented numbing gel I’d heard Grandfather brag about.
‘Both the Pain Giver and the Pain Carrier are implanted with a small, non-invasive chip. We’ll activate a minimal dose of UV light overhead – just enough to aggravate your disease to spark.
The parasitic current will be drawn to your chip, absorbed by the solradiance technology and transported to the Carrier chamber.
The helical disease leaves your body, but both chips remain in place as anchors for the connection. ’
I tried not to think of the subtle sting where Dr Orion had touched me.
Instead, I pictured myself surfing – winning the last competition of the Qualifying Series and earning a Challengers invitation.
My thoughts shifted to Nova’s smile when she tried to teach me the carnival games.
The feeling of her hand in mine. The way she teased me when I admitted I wanted to kiss her.
I needed to see her again. What would she think of me becoming a Pain Giver?
She hadn’t said much in her text. I would tell her the truth.
I couldn’t handle it. And I didn’t want to depend on an addictive drug.
She believed in the system. She’d understand. She had to understand.
I winced as Dr Orion pressed white gauze over my right wrist.
‘I’m already done,’ she said. ‘The worst part is over. We’ll wait for the Pain Carrier to initiate, then you’ll have your life back.’
Jacinta squeezed my arm and Gemma smiled. I shifted against the pillows.
You have potential. Grandfather’s words echoed in my mind. I tried to think about surfing again, but my thoughts stayed on Nova. I pulled up my messages, my smile slowly turning into a grin. She’d responded.
Castor
We should definitely talk soon, in person. I have news I want to tell you before anyone else.
I settled back. Grandfather was right. Potential.