The Fractured: Maggie (Fractured #2) (Blemished Series) Page 2

  A curiosity drew her in, no matter how hard she tried to resist. The GEM created life. Perhaps her father was right and it was a good thing. Imagine what it would be like for women with careers, never having to take maternity leave but still able to have children. Maggie’s dad showed her the stimuli centres where children spent their first three years in specialised areas. Scientists created alternatives for breast milk with the mother’s DNA. Speech, athleticism, intelligence and maternal bonds were strengthened under perfect scientific conditions using the mother’s voice and image on feeders and comforters. They even used her scent. With scheduled visits from the parents, the GEM was able to speed up the effects of the maternal bond.

  It was all so clever. She watched scientists use the DNA sequencing machines and choose the perfect genetic traits for the children. There would no longer be people with addictive personalities, doomed to spend their lives fighting drug addiction, or people pre-destined to die of cancer in their youth. It really did seem perfect. She couldn’t argue against it anymore. Why shouldn’t humans make the world a better place? Why shouldn’t they want to live with beauty surrounding them and illness a distant memory? Why shouldn’t she want to help it happen? Maggie took the job after three weeks.

  The security guard pointed her in the direction of lifts that would take her to the eighth floor, DNA sequencing and Embryo construction. Her first real job in genetics, and she would be helping to create life.

  That day she walked along the white corridors with a bounce, rippling the long waves of her hair. She wore sensible clothing – black jeans, flat shoes and a white shirt. She would not be going to see Daddy on her first day, although his reassuring presence would be welcome. She didn’t want to be “Maggie Powell – daughter of John Powell” – she wanted to be “Maggie Powell”. Or better yet, what she had always dreamed of: “Maggie Powell – Scientist”. She inhaled the smell of the Genetic Enhancement Ministry, thinking about how new everything smelled, even down to the faint carpet glue scent. She was becoming a pioneer of science – one of the few people who would help to re-shape the world and make it a better place. As she thought about that for a moment, and smiled to herself, she collided with a man walking in the opposite direction, almost knocking Maggie to the floor. The man managed to grab hold of her hand and stop her from falling, pulling her upright and almost directly into his chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, with a hurried and hushed voice. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m such an idiot! Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

  Maggie’s face warmed as she saw his face for the first time. He was handsome – very handsome, with dark hair and olive skin. He looked at her with large brown eyes. Maggie had a sudden surge of nervous energy when he smiled, and fiddled with her hair.

  “I’m fine,” she said. Her voice sounded strange – breathy and high-pitched, like those annoying teenagers in soaps. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”

  “Good,” he said. He let go of her arm. “Hey, I’ve not seen you around here before. Are you the new starter?”

  Maggie gulped. “Yes. I, umm, started today. Just now, in fact.” She held out her hand for him to shake, hoping it would look professional. “I’m Maggie. Maggie Powell.”

  He took her hand and shook it. He had firm, warm hands with a slight rough feel. “I’m Ethan Moore. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie.”

  Chapter Three

  Maggie Powell loved her life, and loved her job. The Ministry sheltered her from the outside world, and the chants of the anti-GEM protestors – now calling themselves the Resistance. The lab was that bubble; a place to get on with her work, distanced from the decisions made by her employers. Decisions like bordering London from the rest of the Country to drive out families who couldn’t afford to buy one of the designer babies. Because of their lack of contribution to the new world, the poor were forced out into the Areas beyond the border wall. Ministry workers were sent into the Areas to begin compulsory gene tests. She didn’t see the results of these tests, or how those with slight genes defections were labelled the Blemished. She didn’t open her eyes to any of this.

  Instead she worked with Derek, a mild mannered man in his thirties. He was on the edge of becoming fat and had a growing bald patch at the back of his head. He was the supervisor on Floor Eight and everyone joked behind his back about his stutter. But the truth was that he was a brilliant scientist, one who worked all hours. Maggie suspected he was involved in some sort of secret project because he kept most of his work quiet. He never left his laptop unsupervised and his computer required three passwords to log in.

  “Are you coming to the pub tonight, Derek?” Maggie grinned at him, crinkling the young skin around her eyes. They sparkled like large, blue marbles.

  He never could quite meet her eyes; instead they focussed on a spot on the wall behind her head. “N-no, I-I don’t th-th-...” he paused, his stutter getting the best of him, “think so.” He smiled and dropped his eyes to the computer screen. “Not tonight.” He coughed, as though the effort of speaking without stuttering had physically exhausted him.

  Maggie nodded. She’d invited him out of politeness, and then had a panicked moment that he might say yes. He was her boss, so that made it weird to hang out in private, but more than that – he wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to go drinking with. Sure, he was a nice person. He seemed kind, and had trained Maggie with patience. He was a fair manager. But he just wasn’t fun.

  “You got a big night planned?” She smiled, looking up from the sequencer.

  Their eyes met and Derek’s cheeks turned pink. “N-no.” He gave a small, apologetic laugh, something he did a lot after stuttering. “No, just staying in and w-working... researching.”

  “That top secret project you’re working on, huh?” Maggie’s eyes twinkled.

  Derek looked alarmed. “Wha-what do you mean? Th-there’s n-no––”

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She winked.

  Maggie heard a knock at the door and turned around to see Ethan in the hallway, waving frantically. He wore a green turtle-neck, which deepened the brown of his eyes. He smiled, and Maggie found her smile widening into a huge grin. When their eyes met it was as though the lab melted away. All Maggie could see was Ethan. He pointed at the door and Maggie gestured him inside. Ethan opened the door a crack and leaned in.

  “All right gorgeous?” he said. “And you, Maggie.” He winked at Maggie and laughed at his own joke. Maggie looked down at his bright red feet and laughed. Ethan had a habit of wandering around the GEM in his socks.

  “Y-you’re not w-wearing shoes, Ethan,” Derek stuttered. “Tha-That’s a––”

  “––health and safety, blah blah. Chill out Derek, old friend.” Ethan flashed Derek another smile and turned back to Maggie. “Ready for the Queen’s Head, Maggie?”

  “Sure. Let me change. I’ll meet you there in ten.” She glanced over to Derek. “Unless you need me to stay?”

  He shook his head. “No, you g-go.” He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. There was a dull look in his eyes, one of slight resignation or sadness.

  Ethan disappeared from the room and Maggie removed her gloves.

  “Are you okay, Derek? You seem a little…”

  He looked up from his work and blinked. “I’m fine.”

  Maggie stepped forward and brushed his arm with her hand. “Take care, Derek. And if you change your mind about tonight, we’ll be in the Queen’s head on Green Lane.”

  Derek swivelled his chair and propped himself up against the desk with his elbow. He looked very intently at Maggie. He was quiet for a moment, just looking deep into her eyes. “Sure.”

  *

  “C’mere, Maggie. What’re you having?” Ethan wrapped an arm around Maggie’s shoulder and pulled her closer to the bar. He puffed on an electric cigarette and blew the vapour up into the air.

  “Vodka tonic, please,” Maggie said to t
he barmaid waiting for the order.

  “Am I late?”

  “Fashionably so,” he said with a grin. “But you look bloody gorgeous for it.”

  He still had his arm around her and Maggie’s heart fluttered. He was so good-looking, the most attractive man she’d ever met. But goodness did he know it. The rest of Floor Eight joked about him flirting with anything in a skirt. He flounced around the place like he owned it, as though he was the manager and not Derek at all.

  “Twelve fifty, mate,” said the barmaid, interrupting the moment between Maggie and Ethan. He passed her the money. “Cheers.”

  “Can you give me a hand with these?” Ethan asked.

  “Sure.” Maggie took her drink and balanced two others between her fingers in a triangle, whilst Ethan did the same. They made their way through the after-work Friday night crowd and found their table. It was a big crowd of lab techs and scientist – even the work experience girl. Maggie felt as though all eyes were on her. She’d been there a few months now, but this was the first time they invited to the pub. The same group had been going every Friday night for ages, so she felt a bit like an invader. She placed the glasses down in the centre of the table so people could reach for them.

  “You lot know Maggie, don’t you?” Ethan said after putting down the pint glasses. He placed an arm across Maggie’s back and her skin warmed where he touched. The work experience girl, Cathy, who had a blatant crush on Ethan, narrowed her eyes. She was very pretty and young. Maggie didn’t care for her. Cathy seemed like the kind of girl who didn’t play well with other girls. She’d walk into a room, flick her hair, and make eye contact with the guys first.

  A few people budged up and Maggie found a spare stool from another table. It was tight but they just about fit. Maggie found herself pressed up against Ethan, with Cathy giving her daggers on the other side of the table.

  “So, how are you finding the eighth floor?” asked a bald guy to her right. She’d seen him work with Derek on the mysterious project. She was pretty sure his name was Lee.

  “Good,” she said with a nod. “I like the work, it’s really interesting. You work with Derek sometimes, don’t you?”

  His smile faltered. “Nothing gets past you.” He laughed but it didn’t sound natural.

  Maggie tried to ask him about his work with Derek but Lee turned away and talked to a woman on his right.

  “I hope old Derek hasn’t been boring you to death,” Ethan said.

  Maggie turned around to find him taking a long gulp of his beer. “No, no. He’s really not that bad.”

  “Wh-wh-what d-d-d-derek?” Ethan said with a harsh laugh. Some of the table joined in. Maggie smiled along but shifted in her seat and looked away. He was her boss and it felt wrong to laugh at him behind his back.

  “C-c-clean th-th-those p-pipettes,” said another lab technician, a woman in her thirties called Andrea.

  “It-its’s a h-h-health and s-safety vi-viol-a-tion.” Cathy joined in. The others laughed even harder, their faces red from alcohol and exertion. Maggie stopped smiling and crossed her arms.

  “All right that’s enough,” Ethan said. “The poor bugger, he can’t help it.”

  “Poor Maggie, she has to work with him all day,” said Andrea. “In’t that right?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said. She didn’t want to agree but she also wanted to make friends and fit in. “It can get a bit annoying.” The others seemed to lose interest and turn away. “I-I s-s-say ve-very a-an-oy-ing.” She bit her lip afterwards, her cheeks bright red.

  Andrea slammed her drink down and laughed again. Ethan giggled and patted her on the shoulder. Cathy’s eyes narrowed and she folded her arms, but in general the atmosphere relaxed and Maggie felt as though she was finally fitting in.

  The conversation turned to work. The group talked about new procedures making it even easier to assemble DNA sequences. By working with the GEM, parents could pick and choose traits: a predisposition to being slim, higher metabolism, immunity to many diseases and allergens, symmetry of the face and so on. There was even talk of a way to heighten parts of the brain to make certain senses extra sensitive. Maggie was very interested in this, and Andrea talked about the possibility of fine-tuning vision to such a high degree that a person could sense waves and patterns in the world so they could actually predict the future. Maggie leaned closer, straining to hear over the background noise of the pub, but then Lee changed the subject back to genetic pre-dispositions to cancer and the conversation never tracked back.

  *

  “Shouldn’t it be last orders?” Maggie slurred. Several vodkas and hours later the room looked rather blurrier than usual.

  “Nah, this pub is 24 hours,” Ethan replied. He had his hand on her knee and Maggie giggled. “We have all the time in the world.”

  Maggie could get lost in his eyes. She stared into them. They were kinda out of focus, but she didn’t care. “Hey, where did everyone go? When did they go?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Huh? I don’t know. They must’ve left while we were talking. I could talk to you for hours and not notice the rest of the world.” His hand caressed her knee and Maggie’s stomach tingled. It was a nice but scary feeling, one she hadn’t felt for a long time, not since school when the rugby captain she’d had a crush on kissed her at the school disco.

  “You could? You… I mean, you want to talk to me?” She sounded like a gushing teenager but she couldn’t help it. That was how he made her feel.

  “Sure.” Ethan leaned in and their noses touched. A second later he was kissing her and that warm feeling spread throughout her body. He broke away and Maggie almost fell forward. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Four

  Maggie squinted as the sun broke through the threadbare curtains. She turned away and reached for Ethan, but he was gone. She sat up and looked around her. She was in Ethan’s apartment, a ten minute walk from the GEM and the pub. He was messy, with piles of clothes hung over the back of his chair. There was a musky, man scent. Despite the surroundings she was happy. It’d been a magical, albeit blurry, night with Ethan. But she didn’t know where he was.

  She grabbed her clothes and dressed before straightening out his bed. Then she padded through to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, trying to ignore the pile of dirty dishes stacked in the sink. More sun filtered through the slats of the blinds in the kitchen, and Maggie’s head throbbed. She rubbed her temples and turned away from the sun. A folded piece of paper lay on the kitchen table. It had her name scrawled on top in a loose, loopy hand. She grabbed it and read out loud.

  “Thanks for the great night, Maggie. Had to leave early. Didn’t want to wake you because you look cute when you’re sleeping. Left you some taxi money by the key bowl. Let yourself out. Will see you soon, darling. Ethan.” Maggie smiled and clutched the note to her chest. She grabbed a pen and scribbled her own reply.

  Ethan, I enjoyed our night together. I can’t wait to see you again. Here is my phone number. Call me or text me! Maggie

  It was short. Maybe it was too short? Should she make a joke? Maggie groaned. Forget it, she wouldn’t stand here agonising over a damn note. She replaced the paper and left, not taking the taxi money. It was a clear morning and she felt like walking. With such a spring in her step, she couldn’t help herself.

  *

  On Monday morning Maggie stomped through the reception, frowning at the security guard. She hadn’t heard from Ethan all weekend, despite checking her phone every few minutes. She even rang the network to check it still worked. Now she felt awkward about what happened and there was a part of her dreading seeing Ethan again, although there was also a part of her heart that soared at the thought of seeing his bright smile. Maybe he just lost her number. Maybe he was just trying to play it cool. Or maybe she had put out too early and now he was bored of her. Stupid Maggie –– stupid, stupid. She entered the lift and pressed eight.

  “Hold th-the d-doors.”

  Great, now she had to make
chit-chat with Derek for eight floors. She pressed the button to open up the doors, and Derek stepped inside. He was sweating from running for the lift, and what was left of his hair stuck limply to his forehead.

  “M-morning, Maggie. Y-you look n-ni-nice today.” He didn’t meet her eyes and found a fascinating patch of wall instead. For some reason it annoyed her more than usual.

  “Morning, Derek.” She gave him little more than a twitch at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t manage a full smile today.

  “Are y-you okay?” he asked.

  Maggie nodded, but didn’t say anything else. One of the less annoying things about Derek was that he could take a hint, and he was quiet until they reached the office. Maggie set her things down and turned on her computer. She half expected to find an email from Ethan, but instead her inbox was full of dull work related emails and something from her dad to say hi. How could he leave her hanging like this? She shook her head. She had to get a grip.

  “D-did you h-have a good time at the pub… on Friday n-night?” Derek asked as they both settled into their office chairs. He’d already clicked on the kettle for their morning cup of tea and it hissed as the water began to heat.

  Maggie looked up, drawn out of her thoughts. “Sure. It was fine.”