"You were spying on me?!"
"Kind of..." Chester shrugs, feigning indifference. "But please know that we didn't use it to crash your privacy, yeah? We attached it in your house to keep track of your safety."
"That was still inappropriate, dude! What if I'm doing something...let's say, private? Don't you think you guys are intruding my personal space?" I complain with a frustrated tone. Still clueless on how to reconcile the fact that a handful pair of eyes has been observing every move that I make.
Chester seems to understand what I'm trying to imply. He bobs his head, his appalled face crawls into an errant smirk, winking at me afterwards. “Yeah. Sometimes boys do stupid stuff when they're alone. I totally get you, mate. That's pretty normal."
"No! " I shriek. "I mean, yes, sort of, but no, that's not my main point."
Alynne stands up from her spot and cleans the mess on the table, stacking our plates before stowing it in the sink. She retorts, “It's not like you were in a reality show. No, we did not watch you for entertainment, Cole, rather it's for your security."
"Okay, point taken but how did you even enter my house without getting detected?"
Chester lifts a finger at Morgana in the same way a spoiled kid would be pointing at their siblings who happen to commit something wrong. What an upfront reaction. Morgana doesn't deny it though, she shows off her calm composure instead. It turns out, the device that Chester has been fixing early this morning is the same device that they've planted in my house. A nearly undetectable surveillance cam. That’s what it is.
"You remember the day that you stole a pod?" Morgana asks with a rough, nasal voice. "I knocked at your door and told you to immediately present yourself in the place of execution–which you actually did. That's when I sneak up a camera on your property."
"That was you? I thought it's my neighbor,"
"Tell us, when was the last time you got out of your cave? For all I know, you live in a sector where all the settlements are occupied by males." She spits back, staggering my body with her words. I have completely forgotten about that.
Moron, you're a moron, Cole, the voices in my head acting up again.
"When the Officials came back to capture me, was that also you who came banging on my door?" I remember that day, the turmoil of emotions. Panic is above it all. If it isn’t for that voice, I wouldn't have been able to snap myself back to my senses.
"Yup, that was her," Alynne interjects, "When you saw the tracking device in that pod, we saw it too. We sent Morgana to help you out while Chester and I were thinking of a plan."
"We exchanged your bags! The genius sitting in front of you suggested that it would be the best plan," Chester joyfully blurts out. A swish of awe and disbelief protrude through my head, my mind is in shreds now. Unbelievable, but not impossible. How can these mere defectives have the guts to commence this kind of action? Taking a risk to expose themselves in the field to rescue someone they barely know? Pathetic. I wouldn’t have done that if I were in their shoes. Thankfully I wasn’t. Their selfless act has saved my life and I deeply appreciate it.
"I couldn't imagine how much struggle you've went though, guys. Thank you– really but how did you pull it off? If I did not stumble on the ground, your plan would fail. You wouldn't be able to exchange the bag."
"No worries, I made sure to bump you really hard so you'd fall on your knees," Morgana giggles, a proud and exultant one.
"T-that w-was you?! Again??!”
"With her color-changing hair, Morgana can perfectly blend in to any environment. Just a touch of make up and clothes, she can become another person." Alynne pokes the bridge of her glasses and adjusts it so it won't fall off. She throws another smile to ease up the tensed atmosphere.
"Damn..." is all I can say.
That's right, her defect, the artificial hair, it must have slipped my mind. Instead of simply using it for style, she has exploited her defect to turn it into a perk. The thought of it astonishes the defective within me and opens up new perspectives to delve into. The way they treat their defect as a special gift is astoundingly brave, something that my anxious, insecure brain refuses to overcome. Who would think of such thing?
"So," Chester pulls me back from zoning out. "what is it gonna be?"
I want to say 'yes' but my words falter in its way. Is this really where I'm supposed to be? What's gonna happen to me in the future will depend on what I’m going say. One word can change my entire life. It’s terrifying to think of it. Do I really have to choose right now?
"We are not just a family. In here, you'll also be guided on how to put your defect into good use, on how to accept it. Together, we don't need to be labelled by the Bureau as 'perfect' to be truly perfect. Ourselves will be our own standards this time." Morgana closes her distance and places her hand on top of mine. She clutches our hand together, tightly intertwined, wrapping my flesh with her warmth of reassurance. I'm slightly taller than her but our eyes still find its way to meet at one point. It has no language but our glimming orbs seem to understand each other.
With one final glance at them, I gulp with determination, "Okay, I'm in." With their hands in the air, everyone rejoices upon hearing my decision. An overflowing glee prompts them to storm off towards my spot and almost squeeze the air out of me when they decide to throw a group hug. Chester demands a fist bump after the brief hugging session. Alynne starts to blabber again, continuously spitting idly and thoughtless words that are somehow leading nowhere. We all just laugh it off. Feeling embarrassed, she instead beckons me into her room so she can show the computer that they're talking about. She says my bag is in there too, waiting to be claimed.
When we reach the room, the first to welcome us are the monitors, five in total, but connected to only one keyboard and mouse. Three of it are affixed on the walls, hanging above the other two. On each side stands a black, rectangular speaker with the processor unit firmly dwelling under the table. The set-up looks perfectly neat and modern as if we aren't in Scarville anymore. Last time I've seen something like this is back when I'm still in the Nursery. Our school uses it to make learning more conducive, or so we thought.
I let out a repressed grunt when Alynne hits my face as she tosses my bag at me, but simply didn't take it as a big deal. I gape open the bag and rummage through the mess in it–only to be disappointed. I haven't found what I've been seeking for.
"Alynne, did you keep the pod? It's not in here," I ask, digging through the heap of clothes inside the backpack.
"About that..." she pauses for a couple of seconds to think of the right words to say. "We needed to detract the guard’s attention from you so we jammed the signal and slip it inside someone’s bag before it could even reveal your location. A simple misdirection."
"You mean, the guy who died for a crime he didn't commit? The poor man that was supposed to be me?"
"If I were you, I wouldn't stress myself about his death. He's a murderer, killed kids under the Official's radar. He deserve it, trust me," hearing her say that, I feel relieved, finally able to breath with less guilt. If it happens to be an innocent citizen, I will totally lose my shit. I hope she's telling the truth.
"Losing the pod also means losing the map of the whole Paragon. I almost died stealing that thing for nothing..." I mutter under my breath, voice filled with disappointment.
"Don't worry, Cole. I memorized it."
"Alright...was that supposed to be a joke? ”
Alynne chortles, "I haven't told it yet, have I? My defect?"
I shake my head. Now it makes me wonder. Her physical appearance doesn't seem to showcase her enhancements.
"I used to be very forgetful as a child."
"We all are, aren't we?"
"No, you don't quite understand. It's a disease, hutington's disease to be exact."
"I'm not really familiar with that. So were you fixed inside of your brain?" I ask and she nods.
I knew it! At first glance, you will not be able to tell that she's a defective preferably because her cybernetic augmentation is done internally unlike the rest of us which have been fixed in a much more exposed part. It may also explain how she attained the title of being a genius.
"When the scientists grafted my brain with a series of chips, my memories are now more accessible than ever," she says.
"So you're trying to say that you memorized the entire map of Paragon in a second? All of it?" My jaw drops at how ridiculous it is. I don't think it's even possible.
"Yup, detail by detail. Crazy, right? It works like a photographic memory. You don't have to worry about the pod, I got it all in my head." She leans forward to the table and splays her hand an inch above the keyboard. For a second, Alynne becomes oblivious to her surroundings, then an imaginary cue hits her, like a surge of fuel in a machine, her fingers begin to type vigorously. Satisfying ticks clicks in the air like a beat of a song, enrapturing my ears with frolic relaxation, then it stops. Blank monitors flicker into life, files and codes emerging on the screen.
I've never been this up close to a computer and that may explain why I'm dumbfounded with the sight of it. The feeling of astonishment swell to a greater degree when numerous footages appear on the screen, containing an exhibit of city's different sectors displayed in all angles.
"You got cameras all over Scarville?!" I hiss, completely thunderstruck.
"Not that many, that's why we have this routine every night, the term we like to use is to 'patrol'. You gotta learn that too."
I raise a brow, "And what exactly do you do when you patrol?"
Alynne takes her glasses off and inclines her body on the table, arms crossed and smiling.
"You'll know."