CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #3
Dinner was quiet. Gemma and Jacinta were out with Bri.
I sat at the table, my leg bouncing beneath it while I watched Grandfather read his vintage-style newspaper.
Production houses had gone bankrupt years ago, but he still had his assistants print articles in the outdated format.
He liked the feel of the world in his hands.
He couldn’t know, I decided. Grandfather was the one who’d advocated for Lucille B.
Anarcha to receive recognition. He’d petitioned to have the south end of Sunrise Avenue renamed.
He’d campaigned to include her history in textbooks across the United States of the West. He’d worked with mayors, governors, presidents to enforce philanthropy requirements for corporations above certain revenue thresholds.
He’d grown up in the outer limits of South Alta.
‘I can feel you staring, Castor,’ said Grandfather, without looking up.
I cleared my throat. ‘Sorry.’
‘What’s on your mind?’
I hesitated. This was my opening. I could ask now or swallow it – and I felt close to bursting. ‘I heard something about Dominion. About us falsifying research around pain tolerance screenings.’
He set down the newspaper. ‘Go on.’
I bit my lip. ‘Well, some sources are claiming Pain Carriers feel helical disease the exact same way I did – and that Dominion is covering it up.’
He started to speak but I cut him off.
‘I know – that sounds like a conspiracy theory. But could there be any basis for it? Could a researcher or screening tech have made a mistake and tried to hide it? I was thinking maybe we could run a new round of tolerance trials – to quiet the protestors. It would rebuild trust, help with the new medicine rollout – and Mayor Whit’s re-election.
’ It was the opposite of what Pua had asked of me. But I couldn’t stay silent.
‘Your mother mentioned you said something this morning. She should’ve been more forthcoming in her response to help you understand.
But you know how she can get a little defensive of the Fox name.
She’s proud of her roots in that way.’ He picked up his newspaper again.
‘There’s no need for new trials. The falsified research isn’t a lie. It’s a misunderstanding.’
I froze. How could any of this be a misunderstanding?
‘About three years ago last May, we had a scientist attempt to sabotage Dominion – a disgruntled employee. She tried to publish fabricated findings, but your mother’s team quickly uncovered the wrongdoing, and the woman was fired for gross misconduct.
All of her work was discarded, and we had to restart the project – at great expense, unfortunately. ’
‘Was the project about pain tolerance levels?’
Grandfather shook his head. ‘Not completely. It began there and became something bigger than that …’ His voice trailed off.
‘I never discovered her motives. The woman, Dr Anand, died shortly after – a drunk truck driver going the wrong direction down a one-way road. Even after everything, it was still heartbreaking. We paid for her funeral expenses and set up her son with a small trust. I think he’s just a year older than you, over at NorCal Dominion, in their medical school.
Too smart for his own good – just like his mother. ’
‘Oh, wow.’ I sat back in my seat, uneasy.
‘I’m assuming someone in the Legacy Party found remnants of her unpublished report.
You know how rumors grow like wildfire. That’s why I was so quick with the incident at Starshade.
This new rumor, the protestors – they’re clinging like weeds.
Maybe you’re right. A new research trial could quiet things.
Let’s discuss it more after we finish with the election activities and the oxin rollout.
Nice to see you showing some initiative, grandson. ’
I tried to smile. I’d gotten what I wanted, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d been handled like a child – brushed off and given something shiny to hold on to for now.
It still didn’t explain how Nova could feel my pain.
What would Grandfather say if I told him she could feel my disease with the same intensity I did?
Would he believe her? How could I make them see there had to be false positives in the tolerance-level testing without risking her?
Jacinta had already mentioned defamation charges.
I don’t know what to do.
‘You know, you’ve been out of the house so much practicing for your competition, I haven’t had the chance to invite you to accompany me on one of my business trips in October.’
‘You know those aren’t my thing.’
‘To O‘ahu’s North Shore,’ he continued. ‘I thought we’d stay a few extra days, and I could watch you surf the Banzai Pipeline. See how you do on the proving grounds.’
My brows shot up. ‘What do you know about the Pipeline?’
‘Well, I might’ve found a reality show I’m somehow now three seasons into. My assistant thought it’d be good for me, since I still have my fingers crossed Dominion will have a sponsored surfer at the AB Cup coming up.’
Grandfather’s eyes twinkled. Our previous conversation had come to an end.
I couldn’t do anything else here – at least not without speaking to Nova and getting her consent.
I never went through a tolerance screening, so I could start there.
I could look at my mom’s published research.
But none of that was something I could do tonight.
‘Tell me, Castor – what makes that surf spot so special?’
I grinned at Grandfather.
I spent the rest of the dinner answering his questions and basking in his genuine interest. I let my worries leave my mind, if only for a few hours.
I didn’t want to ruin this rare moment of us connecting over something I cared about.
We walked together through the halls afterward, and I didn’t even realize we’d made it to his office.
‘It was nice talking to you like that,’ I said.
‘I’m always here to talk,’ said Grandfather. ‘I know you’d rather your father was at your surf competitions, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to come more often. And I can always be your official sponsor – no family-obligation strings attached.’
I opened my mouth, then closed it. There were always strings. ‘I’ll think about it.’
I turned away as he entered his PIN into the keypad, catching an eight and a four. I’d seen the random numbers over the years and hadn’t thought much about them. Eight and four. I committed them to memory.
Downstairs, Grandfather’s solisTablet lay on one of the sofas in the sitting room, unlocked.
He always left it around the house, preferring all his memos and emails to be printed out for him.
I stood over it, contemplating. An app for the Freedom System database sat in the top right corner of the holoscreen.
I tapped it. Clicking around, I pulled up the name search bar.
Marco Fredericks.
‘Pain Carrier not found,’ droned Centaurus.
I frowned and tried again – then again, using the name Marq. Pua wouldn’t lie to me.
Staring at the blinking message, I couldn’t tell whether it meant Marq was never in the system … or if he was, and he was missing – just like Pua said.