The Girl Who Chases the Wind

Chapter 18: The Future

I had a few quiet moments of calm before I started freaking out.

The notion of being a Feldon had gone from absurdity to finally making sense. My body had always felt wrong, warped, distorted. I accepted some aspects of gender. I called myself a girl. Perhaps it would be different if I had different people raising me but being force-fed the gender notions of my morally-ancient family had me fighting even more.

So yeah, it made sense but, at the same time, I’d been to a family general-practitioner more than once. I had my first period at a brutal time in my life, but I’d had it and no gynecologist batted an eye when they examined me. And these weren’t myopic physicians who talked in folksy platitudes. They were as knowledgeable as any doctors I’d ever met. Of course, I was in no position to fact-check them, but they’d never raised any alarms to me about my health.

I’d done casual readings about intersexuality and the genes involved. A chimerical mixture of Xs and Ys. There were obvious physical traits, there were gonads where they shouldn’t be or extra ones. There were motor problems and neurological issues. Again, I didn’t trigger any red flags. Sure, I had an androgynous build and a neutral voice but that was as far as things went.

I dipped my phone down and sighed. I ordered the car back on its route and the connection ebbed away. Greenie still mimed her sleep cycle on the backseat. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head.

I got up for a bit and sat beside where Greenie lay. Touching her, I never really thought about the warmth of her skin. I imagined it had to be done automatically so she wouldn’t feel eerily-cold like a corpse. I cupped her fingers and muttered, “Granddad…” I knew the words wouldn’t rouse her, but I hoped in some way it would comfort her to hear them. I even did my best to sound like a normal girl.

It was sundown by the time we arrived back at the ranch. I checked Greenie’s pockets, but she didn’t have the signaling device from her accident in the morning. I hustled inside and framed the situation as, “Greenie collapsed.” It was an exaggeration to be sure, but I figured that would get people coming quickly, which it did. Three nurses sprinted out the door ahead of me at nearly Greenie-level speed. I left my car unlocked. Before going back inside, I checked the memory drive on my audio recorder and adjusted my video recorder, so it looked like a bit of an earring. I hadn’t been diligent with either of them since the big bombshell. But it was time to fix that, just in case.

I felt bad about taping Feldon, but I was still a reporter. No matter if nothing came from my work, I wanted personal records. Back inside, things were stirred up like seabirds on the old pier just off the promenade where I grew up. People kept scampering around with no inkling of what they were supposed to do. Like a stoic, methodical pelican with gray spread across his crest, Feldon was waiting at the back of it all.

I approached him with the same sense of reserve. I told him promptly, “Greenie passed out, but she looks like she's sleeping.”

He gave a little nod, the feeling of worry on his face was but a shadow of what it had been when we left. He answered, “I anticipated it. I assume she had dinner.” I confirmed as much along with mentioning what she’d eaten. I added, “She wasn’t actually breathing when she was sleeping…”

Feldon nodded quietly and folded his arms. “Understood. So…how did the testing go?” He didn’t ask urgently, but I could tell it was foremost on his mind, even above his father-in-law’s condition.

I held up my phone with the file saved. I zoomed to the government confirmation and then to the genes which had caught my eye. He gazed at the screen, leaning closer. I watched his expression. It seemed like he was expecting this result but at the same time, there was a wave of relief in his undulating lips. He looked me in the eye and said simply, “Rachel…”

I answered back, “I guess so.”

He took a deep breath and let his lips curl. Softly, he whispered, “I knew you survived. I just knew it…I knew it…”

It was hard not to get caught up in the feeling of his words, but I just nodded and kept a respectable distance. His arms didn’t rise with any expectation of a hug, but he clasped his hands, coughed once, and surmised, “You have more questions. Of course…I want to tell you all I can…”

I gave him a quiet nod and followed where he led me. It wasn’t back to his office nor back to the conference hall for more family pictures. Instead, we went into the isolation ward I’d seen the day before. He picked a locked door that I’d originally taken for a maintenance closet, but it opened up into a darkened room. It was larger than any of the other patient rooms and had a good view of the racetrack outside, even at dusk.

Despite wide closets and an adjacent kitchen, it was still easy to tell it was a hospital room. Valves and slots for medical equipment lined the far wall. There were no beds. The bathroom and shower both appeared wheelchair-accessible with a plastic chair still sitting alone over the rope that turned the faucet on and off.

I was confident in my next words, despite merely guessing, “This was Aura’s room.”

Feldon leaned back and stared at one of the empty spaces. “Yes, though she invited her grandfather over so often that we had to put in a second bed for…well, 'sleepovers' she called it.”

I looked around and noticed there were stairs and an elevator opposite the closets. Feldon smirked and noted, “And yes, there is more to this room. Come along…”

He walked and explained, leading me past the closets and to the elevator I’d glimpsed. “I had it put in so Aura could have treatments privately. In the basement level.”

I hadn’t considered a basement. Bad reporter. But then it was obvious from the outside that the facility was modeled after a ranch. How many of those had basements? I hadn't seen any elevators, which meant they were disguised. Feldon confirmed as much as he continued.

“We had it from the beginning as a speedy way of moving freight and supplies between the buildings on campus, especially when it was Memetic or otherwise sensitive. There’s even a small shipping bay to the west which allows trucks to come and leave with shipments.”

It was strange he hadn’t mentioned this before now. I mean…if it was mainly for shipping. He pressed the button on the elevator. The doors hissed open and sucked at the air around us. Negative pressure, enough to make my ears pop. There were the standard buttons on the elevator but also two main ones. The first was labeled ‘mantle’ and the other was marked “air”, which he pressed. Ironically, ‘air’ led us downwards as the doors hissed closed.

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The trip was slow but not long. I didn’t feel like we’d traveled much more than a story or two underground. I wasn’t sure what I expected when the doors finally hissed open again. Perhaps something like the bottom of a missile silo or a secret laboratory. Instead, the lower level didn’t look all that different than the upper one. The only difference was everything was partitioned off into its own sections. One area was filled with clear, heavy plastic, and others were covered in thick metal. The doors to each section looked like they’d be difficult to open manually.

Corridors led through the area and out of sight. Feldon anticipated my next question, “The tunnels run under the entire ranch, under every building.” I frowned and had to wonder why. That certainly seemed excessive. I mean I knew that many hospitals had basement levels for support services but usually that just meant those areas were not open to the public and allowed workers to move about freely. You had to add Memetic Crystalline but that hardly seemed worth all this. Still, I held my tongue.

After a ways in, I had to change clothes like in the lab area behind the ranch. I begrudgingly slipped off my coat to reveal some of the curve of my shoulders. I swallowed and looked away from Feldon as I put on what reminded me at first of a biohazard suit, only lacking the faceplate and mask. It was all white and loose enough to make me feel comfortable. It was bulky with all my other clothes on, but I wasn’t ready to undress further in front of anyone.

The hood tightened to hide my hair but everything else remained the same. My shoes were completely covered. Feldon put on a pair of blue gloves but told me I’d be fine so long as I didn’t touch anything. I raised an eyebrow and he assured me, “It’s to prevent contamination of sensitive materials.” I nodded with that but still kept in mind the underground was negative pressurized, which suggested keeping stuff from getting out.

The first room he led me to stopped me in my tracks. Along the wall was what appeared to be a series of realistic human parts in sealed, clear containers. They were held in a transparent medium which made me think of congealed saliva.

Feldon gestured with a blue hand. “Spares. Orders have already been placed for these. Made of Cellular D and its related cousins threaded with Memetic Crystalline. More than mere prosthetics. These can replace a lost part or replace an inferior version.”

I paused to look at the assortment of eyes, parts of faces, jaws, arms and legs of all shades and shapes. It wasn’t much of a surprise to me with what I’d seen topside, but these were even better. They looked like the test cases of cutting-edge labs in faraway countries which only worked in the short term.

“Who orders them?”

He gave a little snort and commented, “Anyone who can afford it.”

I leaned back on my legs. I felt disappointed. Top-side the ranch was a clinic for any and all who needed help, but its underbelly was a market for those with money to buy new pieces of meat to keep their decaying flesh going. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Feldon was an idealist who trotted out his little kids and his miracle cures and long-term care like some kind of Albert Schweitzer plus Santa Claus. But there were also financial realities.

I guessed he couldn’t fund all this on just the patents he retained alone and putting out MC related products. He seemed to notice the quiet disappointment on my face. He still cracked a smile.

“This area is also for those who crave discretion for their medical procedures. Besides some minor aesthetic qualities, the best we can offer shows no differences from any normal biological component. I’ve met more than one president here.”

I frowned and wondered where he was going with this. It seemed out of tune with all he’d told me before. Perhaps all the before was for show and this was the bitter pill. He didn’t seem ashamed of it though. Selling out his top-tier products to the wealthy and powerful.

Clearing my throat, I inquired about Mari. He gestured towards the frosted clear walls to the right and told me, “She needed a refuel and went into what they used to refer to in old computer lingo as ‘sleep mode’…appropriately in her case. Originally she had a very advanced fuel cell inside her which needed a regular battery recharge. Now, it’s a magnesium-based nanoparticle system which does a little bit with biomass…what she eats and drinks. It can be a closed system for months, if necessary. However, the drawback is she can hit a…brownout…I guess you call it, when eating, due to how she’s composed. Nothing to be done but we’re working on making it better.”

I stated what I already knew, “She’s entirely synthetic…and she’s your father-in-law.”

Feldon cocked his head slightly. “She really opened up to you. The other day she was ranting to me about how it was impossible you could be Rachel and today she spilled out her heart to you. Quite a change…”

I did note that there were certain things she didn’t want to talk about, and he quickly remarked, “Of course there are. As there were so many things I have yet to tell you. That I would not share outside of family. Ah…and if you please, could you transfer your genetic file to uh…this computer over here should be compatible.”

I pointed the phone at the computer and just authorized it to send over the file. I was actually a little surprised it was compatible because it was about as old as my own back home. I leaned over and watched my genetic information, all that I was or would ever be, laid out like a holographic map.

Feldon stroked his chin and muttered to himself. He stretched out his fingers and manipulated the interface. When he was done, he leaned back and let me observe the information on the screen. It still showed my genetics, but areas were highlighted or darkened all over.

Stretching, Feldon casually remarked, “Ideally, it would’ve looked like this. Replication genes with an expression towards cell longevity instead of mutation with just a touch of improved healing. Little touch-ups here and there. And everything else cleared up.”

His eyes gazed at the screen with what seemed like frustration. I’d seen it before but more wistful, my parents wishing I’d had better memory genes or been more obedient growing up. But those were the kind of things parents wished for, even adopted parents…I guess.

Then, Feldon said, “You were tested in the womb you shared with Aura. She was fine but you needed some help to suppress your unnecessary genes.”

I paused and looked over the areas Feldon had blacked out on the screen again. I flipped back to my phone to check. They were in the areas which would’ve expressed male or masculine traits. I stared there with my mouth hanging open slightly as I realized, “You…you turned me into a girl…”