CHAPTER 8

The four of you manage to make it the rest of the way downtown without encountering any more meatbags. The bustling streets are lined with fancy stores and restaurants, and like the subway platform back at the apartment, everything in the sector is much nicer than you're used to in Zeta. A pair of women walks by wearing beautiful white dresses; their necks and wrists glitter with gold and diamonds, and you try not to gawk. "I feel so unfashionable," Val mutters.

"I feel like I'm going to fall asleep on my feet," Chase sighs. "What time is it?"

"Late," you say. "I wonder if there's anywhere around here we can crash for a couple of hours."

"We can probably get a fancy hotel room for a million dollars or so," Val says with a snort. "But l'd be fine with a cardboard box at this point."

A man walking by nearly collides with your group as he passes. "Watch it, dude," Chase calls to him.

The man grumbles and points to a small black box attached to his ear. "Can you repeat that, Cameron?" he says loudly, continuing on his way. "I was just accosted by some vagrant children and didn't hear what you said..."

"Jerk," Val grumbles under her breath. "Who is he calling vagrant?"

Chase shrugs. "Well, to be fair, you did just say you wanted to sleep in a cardboard box."

"Shut up."

Damien gets out the map and studies it. "We're not too far away from the dot. Let's go check it out first, and then we can decide what to do."

"Fine," Chase grumbles. You look at the others and shrug, a little embarrassed that he's being such a baby. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring him along.

The map leads to a more deserted part of the sector, with fewer streetlights and buildings that aren't quite as nice as before. "This should be it," Damien says, stopping in front of a coffee shop with a "For Rent" sign in one window. The rest of the windows are boarded up, and it looks as if it hasn't seen business for quite some time.

"Now what?" Val asks.

"Hey, look!" Damien points to another sign that is partially obscured behind a row of shiny green recycling bins. Underneath the words Sector Interchange, a red arrow points in the direction of a dim alleyway.

Chase peers into the darkness and shudders. "We're not really gonna go down there, are we?"

"You got a better idea?" Damien asks. Chase shakes his head. "Okay then. Let's go."

You all draw your guns and start cautiously down the alley. After a while, you start to hear a strange, wet smacking noise.

Val looks around in disgust. "What the heck is—oh, crap. Meatbag, nine o'clock."

You all turn to see a dark figure hunched in the corner next to a dumpster. He turns and looks at you, too, and you notice a big smear of red across his face. Strings of gore drip from his bushy moustache.

"It's feeding," Chase shouts, cocking his gun.

"No!" the figure cries. "It's just a rat!" The object in his hands falls to the ground, and you can see that it is, in fact, a plump, four-legged rodent. The figure stands up into a dim beam of light, which makes his gray skin glow nearly silver. His lips are curled back in fear, and his moustache twitches like the whiskers of a rabbit.

Val kicks at the discarded animal with her boot. "Recognize him, Chase? He looks like he could be one of your gang."

"Shut up," Chase says.

"Guys?" Damien says, cocking his pistol. "Let's focus here, shall we?"

"You don't want to do that, son" the VM says, taking a hesitant step forward. There's something very familiar about his voice, like you know him from somewhere.

"Killing me would lead to dire consequences."

"Oh, really?" Damien asks. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Please, just listen to what I have to say."

"I'm so tired of these talky-ass meatbags," Val sighs. "Someone just kill him already."

"Wait," you say. "Let him talk."

The VM bows solemnly in your direction. "That's extremely kind of you, miss. Not many humans are willing to give my kind a chance." You're just about to ask exactly what his kind is when he raises a hand to wipe off his mouth. On his finger sits a jade ring carved into the shape of a dragon. You'd recognize it anywhere.

"Oh my god," you gasp. "It's Uncle Benji!"

"Nuh uh," Chase says.

"It is!" Damien cries. "I can't believe it!"

Every child in the sector system grew up watching Uncle Benji's Cartoon Hour each afternoon, at least until its sudden cancellation in 8 A.Z. In between old animated clips from the surface world, Uncle Benji would sing songs, twitch his moustache, and wave that ringed hand at the beginning and ending of each show. Kids everywhere loved him, and it was a sad day when Cartoon Hour was no more.

"We've missed you so much, Uncle Benji," Val says, and you can tell from her face she's trying to resist throwing her arms around him just as much as you are. "What happened to you?"

He gives her a sad smile and looks down at his blood- smeared hands. "Well, I was infected, of course. After my show was done taping each day, there'd always be a crowd of children who wanted to tell me a joke, or sit on my lap and pull on my moustache. One time, there was a little fellow who asked me to sign his autograph book. When I got down on my knee and reached for the pen, he lunged for my neck. When the other children caught scent of the blood, they followed suit. The next thing I knew, I was in the state you see me presently."

"But what are you, exactly?" Damien asks. "We've seen others like you, and some of them wear makeup to pass as humans. "What's going on?"

"I know who you're referring to," Benji says. "They're bad news. But I'm not like them. The virus has mutated enough to allow for conscious thought and even memory. But it doesn't change the fact that, physically, we're still decaying bags of meat."

"Do you still... eat people?" Chase asks.

"No, no," Benji says. "The instinct and desire are still there, but it can be resisted. There are a few of us who work very hard to develop self-control. I myself stick strictly to non- human prey. The others, though, you really have to watch out for. Human cunning and the bloodlust of the undead is a dangerous combination." He frowns and stares off into the distance for a moment before shaking his head. "It's their fault good guys like me will never be accepted back into normal society."

"We should tell people what's going on," you say. "We can help you."

"Yeah," Damien says. "We know people in the media. If Gloria Goodbody wants ratings, this story would be a goldmine."

"Oh, the media already knows all about us," Benji says. "As well as the authorities. They're the ones keeping the media from alerting the public. Could you imagine the hysteria that would ensue when it's revealed that there's something even worse than VMs out there?"

"My mom's a scientist in Zeta Sector," you say. "If you came back with us, maybe she could study you."

"Oh," he laughs, shaking his head. "I've been poked and prodded enough already. There used to be a team of doctors who monitored our activities. I had a tracking collar, just like they used to put on wild animals back in the surface days. They even had a name for us: HFVMs, or high-functioning victus mortui. But once they collected all the data they could, they just sort of gave up on us all."

"That's horrible," you say.

Benji shrugs. "I'd say it's better than living in a cage in some lab. They probably wanted to forget we ever existed, since they're the ones that caused the mutations with their endless search for a cure. Besides, I'm fine out here on my lonesome. I have ways of staying safe. Which reminds me, what are you kids doing out so late all alone?"

You tell him about the school dance, Toxifarian, and the badges you found at their apartment. "It sounds like you have quite an adventure ahead of you," he says. "I've heard about the VitaLine Lab. It's in Gamma Sector. I could help you get there if you like."

"That would be awesome," Chase says. "But it would be nice to catch a nap first."

"I think I can help out with that, too," he says. "Follow me."

He leads you around the back of the abandoned coffee shop, stepping carefully over a hidden trigger wire along the way.

"I have this whole area booby-trapped," he says. "The others also enjoy causing trouble for those of us who resist the urge to feast. Without the protection that human civilization affords, I've had to learn to wing it."

"Reminds me of Wile E. Coyote," you say. Benji chuckles, seemingly pleased that you remembered one of the cartoons from his show.

Inside the coffee shop, he leads you to a couple of dusty, torn-up booths in the back corner. "It's not much," he says apologetically.

"It's perfect," Chase says, collapsing onto the nearest seat.

The rest of you do the same, and you're asleep almost instantly. In the morning, Benji is still sitting where he was when you drifted off, but now there's a small white box sitting on his lap. He smiles when he sees you're awake.

"I went ahead and rustled you up some doughnuts," he says.

You're not completely comfortable eating food from this man.. Well, he's not exactly a man, anyway.

'If Benji wanted to kill us, he could have while we slept,' you think. Since you're trusting him to guide you to the Gamma sector, there needs to be some minimal amount of trust between you... at least for now.

"Thanks," Damien says, stretching his arms and grabbing a chocolate bear claw. His tousled hair and heavy lids makes him look especially adorable this morning.

"No trouble at all," Benji says.

Benji picks up a small bag from a shelf. "If you don't mind, I'll just put on my face while you eat. Then we can make our way to Gamma Sector."

"Go for it," you say. The thought of watching him apply his human makeup equally fascinates and repulses you. As you eat your bio-apple fritter, you can't help sneaking peeks at the process. Damien gets out the map and looks it over while he eats.

"So the dots on the map-they must be others like you?"

Benji shrugs. "Maybe."

"Well, if that's the case," Damien says, "We've got two of you in our school."

"Who could it be?" Chase asks. "Principal Gupta? Or maybe Coach Bryant?"

"No way!" Val says. "It's gotta be Mr. Nelson. He's always struck me as a little off. And come to think of it, I've never seen him eating anything."

You lean over Damien's shoulder to take a look. The swooning feeling from your proximity to him is quenched almost immediately as you make a discovery. "Oh my god!" you say, swallowing hard to remove the lump that's developed in your throat.

"What?" Chase says, leaning in.

Unable to speak, you point at the solitary dot located in the Zeta Sector residential area. Directly over your family pod.

"Oh no," Chase says. "You know, maybe it's just some sort of enemies list. I mean, your dad is the general of the entire sector system, after all. And your mom is an important scientist. Either one of them could be a threat."

"Or a VM in disguise," Val murmurs under her breath. Chase turns and smacks her in the arm. "Ow," she says. "I was just kidding. Obviously her parents aren't meatbags."

"Of course not," you say. "But this means they're in danger."

"Maybe," Damien says. "But maybe not. Like Chase said, your parents are pretty important people, so they're probably part of the end game. And we've got the badges, remember? I'm willing to bet that whatever they're planning next can't happen without them."

You think it over a moment before nodding. "I guess you're right."

"What about these badges, anyway?" Val asks after swallowing a bite of jelly doughnut. "What could a bunch of VMs want at a human food lab?"

"I can't say for sure," Benji says. "But I've heard rumors."

"What kind?" Chase says, his mouth full of pastry.

Benji stares silently into his small hand mirror and dabs at his face with a sponge. When he finally speaks, he seems to be choosing his words carefully. "Well, some say there's a portal to the outside somewhere in the sector."

"I knew it!" you say, nearly dropping your fritter. "The surface!"

He nods. "The others are always cooking up new schemes. At first they just wanted to take control of the sector system and dominate the remaining humans, whom they view merely as lesser-evolved food sources. But now that plan has ballooned into repopulating the surface and taking their so-called 'rightful place' as its new master species."

"Hey," Chase interrupts. "I just thought of something. Who would win in a fight between one of your kind and a regular old VM?"

"Yeah," Val chimes in. "Would it try to eat you, or do you guys just sort of ignore each other?"

"We see them as nuisances more than anything else," Benji says. "They're kind of like our lesser-evolved cousins. Missing links who have outlived their purpose. They ignore us."

Suddenly, you get a brilliant idea. "Maybe if we find more of the good guy HFVMs like you," you say, "we could all work together to wipe out our mutual ernemies."

Benji smiles. "That's a wonderful idea, Jen."

"Yeah," Val scoffs. "Then we can all sit around together and sing 'Kumbaya.'" She stands up and brushes the pastry crumbs from her lap. "Right now, I just wanna get some killer phone pics of the surface. Think of all the hits they'd get on SurvivorNet."

"Don't forget we've only got two badges," Damien says. "That means even if they actually get us access to the portal, we can't all go."

"Crap," Val says, sitting back down. "I didn't even think of that. So who's going?"

"We could draw straws," you suggest. "There's gotta be some around here somewhere."

"I nominate the Kid As" Chase says.

"That does make sense if Jen and I go," Damien says. "We make a good team."

Chase gives you a quick wink, and you're suddenly happy again that he's along for the journey.

"But what about me and Rat Boy here?" Val whines. "I don't really feel like hanging out here while you guys get to have all the fun."

Damien turns to Benji. "Does the interchange have access to Kappa Sector?"

"Yep. Why?"

"We have an old buddy there." Damien reaches into his backpack and pulls out the Operation Tabletop file. "Val, do you think you and Chase can get this to Sven?"

"Are you kidding?" Val asks, taking the folder and clutching it to her chest. "I'd do just about anything to see him again." She looks at you with a sly smile. "He's the third-year Kid A. So hot." Chase shoots her an odd look you'd swear was jealousy.

"Fine," you say. "It's settled. How's it going over there, Benji?"

"Almost ready," he says. After a few more minutes, he stands up and spins around. "Voila." His face is now a smooth, healthy peach color with just a touch of jolly red in the cheeks and lips. His arms and hands are also painted to perfection. There's no way you could ever tell he wasn't human. You wonder about his breath and you fight the urge to ask him what breath-mints he is using.

"Wow," Chase gasps. "You could teach my mom a few things about makeup."

Val snorts. "You totally took the words right out of my mouth."

"Shut up."

You set off. Your thoughts linger on your parents and that dot on the map, which you immediately push from your mind. It takes less than ten minutes for Benji to get you to the sector interchange. As you bid farewell to Chase and Val and make plans to meet up later, you notice a black car parked nearby. You think nothing of it at the time, but when your friends leave for the Kappa entrance, the electric car speeds away quietly in the opposite direction. Benji beckons you towards the Sigma entrance.

"We'll need to go through this sector first to get to Gamma," Benji says with an uneasy grimace. "But I'll try to make it as fast and painless for you as possible. Just don't speak to anyone."

You wonder what he means by this as you start down the narrow corridor. For a while you don't see much of anyone or anything besides brick wall. But after a while, you hear a dull, rhythmic thumping that gets louder the longer you walk. Finally, you turn a corner and see something that resembles the downtown area of Alpha Sector, but not nearly as fancy. The storefronts all have colorful neon signs that flash names like Leather World and Spankie's. A sign in a nearby window (where the booming bass seems to be coming from) promises "Dancing Girls-Only 40% Fecto!" As you scan the rest of the street, you read quite a few words that you're pretty sure would get your mouth washed out with soap if you said them aloud at home. You look at Damien, but he's too busy gawking at a sign that features a pair of pink neon legs that are alternating between a ladylike crossed position anda not-so-ladylike uncrossed one.

Benji walks a little ahead of you to protect you from the leering men standing outside some of the establishments. "Hey, kids," one of them calls in a loud, jolly voice. "You wanna see a naked lady? She only a Level 9. Not even gray yet."

"Eww," you say, scowling. "Were sixteen years old, you perv."

The man shrugs as you pass. After five more blocks, the environment doesn't seem to be getting any less smutty. Can there really be an entire sector dedicated to creepy VM sex stuff? What's wrong with people? Just as you begin to doubt the core of adult humanity, you hear a hiss coming from a nearby alley. You turn and see an old man who seems normal enough, except for the fact that he's taking a swig from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. He wipes his wet lips with the back of his hand and grins at you. "Hey girlie," he calls, his eyes darting around nervously. "Come here. I got a secret."

"Uh, that's okay," you say. "We're going... somewhere important."

The man snorts. "I bet it ain't more important than what I have to tell you."

"Probably not," Damien says, keeping his eyes forward and picking up the pace.

"You gotta be very careful these days," the man whispers as you pass. "Lots of strange people about. I got some advice for you, though. It'll only cost you a bulet."

You walk right past the man without acknowledging his presence, but it's hard not to react to the heavy cloud of body odor and sour alcohol breath surrounding him.

You manage to make it through the rest of Sigma Sector without any further harassment, eventually arriving at the Gamma Sector entrance. After a long, sparkling white corridor, you find yourselves at the door of an office. Through the window, you can see a receptionist sitting behind a desk. In front of her sits a large computer screen, but all of her attention seems to be focused on the magazine propped up against her keyboard. To her left, there's another door with a black box on the wall next to it.

"That must be the badge scanner," you whisper.

"I can try to cause some sort of distraction while you sneak by," Benji suggests.

"I don't know," Damien says. "That might make things worse. Maybe she won't even notice us if we just act normal. Or we could talk to her and act like we're visiting our parents that work here."

"I hope your performance skills aren't too rusty," you say to Benji. "Because I think we're gonna need your help."

"You don't have to askme twice." His face lights up as much as dead flesh can under an inch of makeup." Just stay out of sight until I give the signal-three short grunts followed by one long groan." He makes his limbs stiff and lets out a horrible growl as he swings open the door and enters the office.

Immediately you hear a scream, followed by footsteps and a loud crash. Then the signal. You and Damien enter the office to find Benji standing with the smashed computer monitor at his feet. The receptionist is nowhere to be seen, but you can hear a soft weeping coming from underneath the desk. He gives you a thumbs up and lets loose with one more terrifying growl to cover the noise of you swiping your badges and escaping out the now-unlocked security door.

On the other side of the door, you immediately find yourself in a small glass booth that reminds you of the elevator from Willy Wonka.

"Please be still," a pleasant female voice chirps from a speaker somewhere above your head. "This will only take a moment." You hear a tinkling chime as a thick fog rises up from the floor and quickly envelops you in a cloud of white.

"Uh, Jen?" Damien asks. "Are we gonna die?"

"I hope not," you say. Though if it is your time to go, you suppose it's not too horrible that Damien's face will be the last thing you ever see.

Suddenly there's a whir of a motor and the fog disappears as quickly as it appeared. Then a click as a new door in front of you slides open.

"Thank you for using the DCON-2020," the voice says, followed by another chime.

You step out of the booth into another long white corridor. There's a sign that reads "LAB" with a left arrow, and "ORCHARD" pointing right.

Since you will no doubt be spotted as immediate frauds in the lab, you decide to go right. You scan your badges and enter the orchard, which turns out to be a vast warehouse lit with long rows of low-hanging fluorescent lights. The individual bulbs flicker sporadically, creating a slightly eerie atmosphere. Under the lights, workers tend to rows upon rows of small fruit trees that stand in large buckets. You peek inside one and see that it's filled with a greenish-brown liquid with an oily rainbow sheen. The smell that emanates from it is indescribable—something between a sewer and your mom's kitchen the time she tried to make an I-Can't-Believe-lt's-Not-Turkey and burned it beyond edible. However, the branches of the tree that have grown up from the horrible muck are heavy with perfect, ruby red apples.

"Ooh, you're here." A woman steps out from behind a row of cherry trees and rushes forward to shake your harnd.

"Hi," you say, shooting Damien a curious look.

"You're the new workers, right?" she continues. "I'm so sorry, but I've forgotten your names. Im Beverly, your new Supervisor."

"Bill," Damien says. "And she's Linda."

Beverly peers at you over the top of her tiny gold-rimmed glasses. "You both look very young. What's your secret?"

"If we told you," you say. "it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?"

"You got me there." Beverly laughs. "Bill, since you look pretty strong, I'm going to put you to work unloading the new shipment of supplies in the shed over there. Frankie can show you the ropes."

"Cool." Damien says.

"Linda, we'll start you out with acid testing," She hands you a small stack of paper strips. "Just dip one of these in each bucket and it should turn bright orange. If it doesn't, youll need to adjust the levels. Any questions?"

"Nope." You have plenty, but you're worried that you may blow your cover if you ask something stupid. You're hoping to work long enough to probe your coworkers for information, or at least hang out until the security situation back at Holly's office has cooled down a bit. So you get to work, hoping you'll luck out and all the buckets will have perfect acidity. The first three strips you check do turn bright orange, but the fourth turns purple. You look around, wondering what to do, when you spot a worker crouching in a nearby row and watching you.

"Excuse me," you say to him. "This one's purple. Do you know what I need to do?"

"Figure it out yourself." He rolls his eyes and grunts as he hoists himself up to standing. "I got my own work to do."

"Don't mind Ricardo," a woman pruning a nearby pear tree says. She has kind green eyes and a red kerchief tied around her head. "He's mean to everyone. Let me see that." She takes the strip from you and nods. "You need to add some N-19. It's the most common deficiency for apples, so you're gonna see this color a lot."

"Thanks," you say. "It's my first day. I'm Linda." You almost say your real name, but you catch it just in time.

"Well, welcome aboard. I'm Gina."

"Do you ever get used to the smell?" you ask.

She laughs. "Nope. It's enough to turn you off fruit forever, isn't it? And you just gotta wonder what all this stuff is doing to our brains."

"You're right," you say. "I never thought of that."

"I wish I was rich enough to eat organic. But what are you gonna do?"

"Organic?" you ask. "What is that?"

Gina gives you a strange look. But she then sighs and looks dreamily off into the distance over your shoulder.

"It's growing food the old fashioned way—without all the chemicals. In real dirt with sunlight and fresh air, just like people did back in the surface days."

"Gina," Ricardo growls, "it's time to get back to work."

"But what did you mean when you said I wish I was rich enough?" you ask as she turns back to her pears. "Is there an organic garden sormewhere in this sector? For that, you'd need access to the surface, wouldn't you?"

Gina glances over at Ricardo, who is now complaining to someone else about something. "I've probably said too much already," she mutters.

With all the commotion Benji caused with reception, this place is bound to be abuzz with security soon and so you'd like to find the surface fast. At the same time, you don't want to blow your cover.

You fish a bullet out of your pocket and wave it under her nose. "Would you tell me in exchange for this?"

She eyes the bullet greedily, then glances quickly over her shoulder. "Come with me to the shed, Linda," she says loudly. "I'll show you where to find that N-19."

You follow her to the small green building at the back of the warehouse. Damien is standing nearby, watching as a short Latino man demonstrates how to use the mechanical lift. He gives you a small wave as Gina beckons you over to a shelf of chemicals. "I'll tell you where the garden is," she says, keeping her voice low. "And yes, it does have access to the surface. But you'll need high security clearance to get there."

"That won't be a problem," you say.

She gives you a curious look. "Okay, well-you'll go past the lab and take the north corridor until you come to a fork, and then go left. After about fifty paces, you'll come to the high security door. Behind that will be the garden. It's a greenhouse, actually, but it's got everything-real dirt, sunlight, and fresh air. No chemicals, and no bioengineering required. Of course, you have to be in a certain income bracket to qualify for what's grown there."

"It sounds amazing," you say. "Thanks."

"Oh, and say hi to Sebastian for me," Gina says. She hands you a jar of N-19 and slips back to her pear trees. You catch Damien's attention and gesture for him to meet you outside. He nods and says something to his coworker as you slip past Ricardo and Beverly and wait for him to catch up.

Gina's directions lead you straight to the door.