Volume 5: Instar

Issue 5: Black Market

Florian Reyes Honeywell

By Roach

I dropped the two history books—The Cold War: Two Superpowers in a Superhuman Ams Race and The Life of Meteora—into the return box by the library entrance. Besides skimming through them on occasion, the books had remained largely forgotten in my locker since I borrowed them—just before Mr. Howells’ death. Maybe they had reminded me too much of that day, or my life had just changed so drastically since then. Maybe it was a combination of the two.

Either way, the books hadn’t been of much help for my history test. I only took it this morning, so I still didn’t know my grade. But I felt less confident in my answers than usual. Mr. Whetter had postponed the test in light of his coworker’s passing, and then once more because of the powerfight on the football field… Which in theory should have given me plenty of time to study, except that those things were the exact reasons I hadn’t been able to study.

But I couldn’t let time become an excuse. As much as I missed sleeping, I could use this aspect of my powers to my advantage. Not being able to sleep meant that I had the entire night to catch up on what I missed during the day. As mentally exhausted as I felt, I couldn’t slack off anymore. Although it wasn’t a problem yet, I risked that my teachers or parents would take notice. And I couldn’t afford to be noticed now.

While a handful of other students had also decided to spend lunch break in the library, I was able to secure one of the computers. Normally, I would hang out with Camilo, but I hadn’t seen him since last night’s party… I hoped that meant he was just busy.

I decided to catch up on my philosophy homework. So here I was, staring at an almost blank document. All I had written down so far was Mx. Lockwood’s essay question: What is the meaning of transhumanism in an age of superhumanism?

I drummed my fingers idly on the mouse pad. Then I started typing:

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The Philosophy of Transhumanism Today

(working title)

Florian R. Honeywell

Philosophy 122

Mx. Lockwood

February 16

After Watson and Crick uncovered the DNA’s structure in 1928, many raised questions about the function of the third helix. Scientists pointed out how superfluous it seemed compared to the double-stranded DNA in most organisms or the RNA of a virus. Why do two thirds of all humans have a triple-stranded structure, a genetic trait which seems to increase every year? This remained a mystery until the Oracle connected the third helix to superpowers in the 70s. Although many questions about the third helix remain unanswered to this day, scientists found themselves one step closer to understanding the origins of superpowers.

Now, what does all of this have to do with philosophy or transhumanism? Transhumanism tells us that science can exceed our biological limits. But the triple helix puts into question what our biology is capable of in the first place. This also leads to ethical dilemmas, with groups like the First Way proposing radical and dangerous philosophies. In other words, transhumanist thinkers must grapple with

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I stopped writing at the sound of a sharp whisper. “Pssst, Florian!” the voice hissed. I looked up from the screen. A few books had been removed from the bookshelf behind the computer. From the other side of the shelf’s gap, a green eye stared at me. Startled, I tensed, readying myself to get up.

But, as I started to process what I saw, I let my shoulders sink down again. “A-Amber?” I squinted at the eye.

The eye disappeared from view. The voice shushed me before whispering, “Meet me in group room C.” Then she disappeared, filling the empty space in the shelf back up with a couple of books.

For a moment, I just stared at the computer screen. I debated whether or not to go with her at all; I had homework to do. But what if it was about last night? About Camilo? Reluctantly, I saved my draft and logged off. I headed to the group room on the other side of the library.

Amber already waited for me inside. She sat with her hands folded together, resting on the table. We were alone.

“What’s… What’s going on?” I said. Although I had no evidence, I felt like I was being set up for something.

“Sit down,” she said.

Slowly, I did.

She continued, “Have you seen Camilo?”

I shook my head.

“He isn’t answering my texts. You weren’t either.”

“You texted me?”

“Yes, great observation.”

“Sorry, my phone was on silent… But you know, you’re allowed to talk to me like a normal person, right?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“The less we’re seen speaking together, the better.”

“Okay, well…” I wasn’t sure how much it really mattered since we had gone shopping and partying together, but I decided against making an issue of it. “So, what do you need Camilo for? Is… Is he okay?”

“I bet he’s fine, probably just moping…” Slowly, her lips formed into a smile. “More importantly, I made a discovery. I would have preferred for both of you to be here… but I guess you’ll do.”

I leaned back into the chair, looking at her suspiciously. “So, what is this about then?”

“Did you notice how Kenny didn’t show up to biology the other day?”

“Umh… Who?”

“Football player, brown hair? Ring any bells?”

I gave her a blank stare.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, there was this exclusive Albatross party last weekend. And ever since then, there’s been this rumor going around that someone ended up in the hospital. But it’s all been very hush hush… because the Albatrosses don’t want it to get out that something happened to one of the guys before the next game.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Oh, Flory-worry. Just pay attention and stop worrying. I’m getting there.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have homework to do, so this better be worthwhile.”

“Trust me, it will be,” she grinned. “So, anyways, Rae’s friend Becky is a cheerleader. Meaning, she got into this exclusive party. Well, Becky kinda owes me a favor, so I asked her about it. As it turns out, Kenny is the guy in the hospital.”

“Well, umh… I’m sorry to hear that, but what does this have to do with anything?”

“He ODed. On H.”

“H?”

“Heroin.”

“Oh…” At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of that piece of information—or, why Amber appeared so smug about the entire ordeal. The world of the Albatrosses seemed so far removed from my own, but their tribulation wasn’t really cause for joy either. “So… What does that mean?” Surely, there was more to the story if she had come all the way to the library to find me.

“Well, after hearing that, I did some more snooping around. And it looks like the drug circulation reaches beyond the football team. Remember Helen?”

It took me a moment to realize she meant the girl we had seen at the mall. “The… shoplifter?”

Amber nodded. “Someone outed her in the Confessional comment section. And, allegedly, she isn’t just doing weed or xanny.”

“Heroin?” I guessed.

“Coke, actually.” Amber grinned. “Looks like there’s a growing black market at Chapel High—a new one, too. It’s not just affecting the stoners, the jocks, or the theater kids. It’s all of them.”

“Wait, the theater kids?”

“Well, who do you think supplied Lucy and Jay yesterday?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“And that’s the big question. If people from different cliques—like Rob, Helen, and Jay—are all involved… There might be an outside party that’s supplying all of them.”

I paused for a moment. “Doesn’t that seem like a bit of a leap?” I said. “You’re making it sound like this big conspiracy… But stuff like this just happens. Right?”

“It does.” She paused theatrically, running her fingers through her hair. “But I know this school. It’s more than normal, and people are seeking out more hardcore stuff. Makes me think that someone is taking advantage of the situation.”

“The situation?” I echoed.

“It’s barely been a few weeks and we’ve had two powerfights and one death. People are scared and depressed, whether they want to admit it or not.”

I let all this new information sink in. It all felt a bit over my head, since I didn’t really know most of the people Amber talked about. But what she said also made sense… And it was worrying. “That’s… not good,” I concluded.

“It’s not,” Amber said. “So I did what I’m best at.”

“Which is… volleyball?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Remember how I found out about you and Camilo?”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“I investigated. I’m best at investigating.” With a sharp, exasperated sort of exhale, she said, “I traced Jay, Rob, and Helen’s connections.”

“So… are they connected?”

“Not to each other. But they all have a common bond with someone else. A bond which only developed in the last week or two.”

“So, who is it?”

Amber leaned over the table. In a whisper, she said, “Ryan from history.” Another name I didn’t recognize. She sank back into her chair. “We should look into it more, but he could be the dealer. Or someone who is connected. Either way, that would explain why the connection has developed so quickly, and why they all have it in common.”

“I see,” I muttered. “We should talk to Camilo.” I didn’t really know what position we were in to do anything about it, but I knew he was concerned about Jay—so maybe it could be of some help.

Amber nodded. “In the meantime, I can do some more digging around. Maybe you can send one of your—”

A sharp knocking interrupted her. We both jumped in our seats. We turned to the source of the sound. The library intern—Holly—appeared in the door opening, wearing a simple black outfit with a silver necklace. I looked wide-eyed at Amber. Had she been listening this entire time? Had we exposed ourselves? Amber, on the other hand, remained composed—her expression a practiced sort of I-couldn’t-care-less.

“Sorry to interrupt… Classes started five minutes ago, so I just wanted to make sure you guys are keeping track of time,” Holly said, smiling carefully.

I relaxed a bit after hearing her explanation. Amber, on the other hand, raised her eyebrows in alarm. “Sh… I have AP lit. I’ve got to run.” She got up, and hurried out.

“Thanks for the reminder,” I told Holly as I passed her by.

“Of course,” the intern replied. I thought that would be that, but once I reached the door to the hallway, I heard her voice behind me. “Hey, Florian…”

I stopped to look over my shoulder. Was I in trouble? Maybe she had overheard our conversation, after all? “Yes?” I said, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible.

“Oh, I was just wondering, umh… How have you been? I haven’t seen you around lately.”

It was true—since I started spending my lunch breaks with Camilo, I hadn’t gone to the library as often anymore. “I’m good,” I said.

“That’s good. Just know, if you ever need anything, we’re here to help.”

She smiled, but it was strained. Her dark brows furrowed slightly. Then I realized what this was really about. When the monster killed Mr. Howells, she had been the one to tell that inspector that I stayed at school late. She must have wondered what became of me, that day.

“Yeah, I know…” I nodded, as if trying to signal that I understood without saying so. “But I should probably get going now.”

“Right. Just… Well, stay safe.”

I waited a moment, wondering how much she had seen that day. And then it occurred to me, because she stayed so late in the library every day, could she have seen the fight with Max as well? But if she knew anything more, her expression didn’t give it away. She just looked concerned. And maybe I read too much into her tone, but she sounded… almost scared. After a pause, I said, “Thank you.”

She nodded back.

I turned away, and headed down the hallway.