Human Error

BOOK 2 // NINE: Fresh Air

With the water now approaching my shoulders, I was almost submerged, and everything below had turned slightly numb. It was an odd feeling, but one I kind of welcomed after feeling so much in a short period of time. We were onto something with the slow descent. My body was growing accustomed to the temperature, and despite the part that was still screaming in protest, it was becoming easier to handle.

In a strange way, perhaps this was what I needed.

When the water lapped over my collarbone, I stopped, figuring we were deep enough. I thought Jace would do the same, but he continued wading through – and when he noticed I was no longer beside him, looked back.

"You're not coming?"

"Coming where?" I called back. "I'm not trying to drown."

"That's not what I had in mind," he said. "I was actually thinking more of a proper swim."

My next words, whatever they might've been, caught in my throat. "Oh."

He noticed my hesitation; even from some distance away, I could see the frown furrowing his thick brows. I knew what was coming before the words were out of his mouth. "You can swim, right?"

In any other situation, I probably would've bluffed, but I didn't have that luxury here. It was kind of embarrassing, but swimming was a skill I couldn't claim to have mastered – and in truth, I'd never really attempted. There had been a pool back at the academy – an Olympic-sized one, at that – but it was filled with the type of athletic kids that would've taken one look at me and sneered. Sporting success was engineered, not worked for. I knew I wouldn't be any good at swimming even before I stepped in the water – and therefore there wasn't any reason to bother.

Back at school, we knew what we were good at, and we stuck to it.

My silence served as answer enough. Jace looked incredulous. "You can't swim? Really?"

A ripple caused by his movement lapped under my chin; the instinctive reaction was for my heart to skip a beat, suddenly primed for danger. There wasn't any, of course, but I couldn't stop my body's physical reaction. "Why do you sound so surprised?" I asked indignantly. "It's not that big of a deal."

"I don't know," he said, which was followed by a pause for thought. "I guess it's not a big deal. It's just... not what I expected."

Now I was confused. "What did you expect?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out on the first try. "I don't know," he said again. "I guess I just kind of assumed... the way you were brought up... you'd be good at everything, you know."

"Because of the modification?"

"Well... yeah." He sounded uncomfortable, like he was trying so hard to get his point across without offending. "I mean, I know I can't say much anymore, but I've spent my whole life not knowing. You've always known you had this advantage. I thought you would use it for everything."

"That's not exactly how it works. We each had our specific thing. Mine is my memory, which means I pretty much aced every test I've ever taken. The athletic kids were those in the pool. I'd have embarrassed myself if I went near it."

Jace didn't say anything. It looked like he'd retreated deep in thought, turning this over and over in his mind. It was odd to hear the misconception: what people thought when they weren't up close and personal with modification, when it wasn't part of their daily life. We weren't a breed of super-human, powered to succeed in every way. It was more like our paths had been chosen in advance, which in turn made every step that little bit easier.