UnWholly

“None of those things,” says the woman. “I’m here to help you. And you, my dear, are going to help us.”

“I doubt that.” Risa rolls away, although she can’t roll very far. The woman doesn’t get up from her chair. She doesn’t even move; she just sits there comfortably. Risa wanted to be in control of this situation, but this woman keeps control with her voice alone.

“My name is Roberta. I represent an organization called Proactive Citizenry. Our purpose, among other things, is to do good in this world. We seek to advance the causes of both science and freedom as well as to provide a sense of spiritual enlightenment.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Roberta smiles and pauses a moment, holding her smile before she speaks. “I’m going to have the charges against you dropped, Risa. But more importantly, I’m going to get you out of that wheelchair and give you a new spine.”

Risa turns to her, filled with more mixed emotions than she can sort right now. “No, you will not! It’s my right to refuse the spine of an Unwind.”

“Yes, it is,” Roberta says, way too calmly. “However, I firmly believe you will change your mind.”

Risa crosses her arms, her belief more firm than Roberta’s that she won’t.

•   •   •

She’s given the silent treatment again—but they must be getting impatient, because it’s only for two days this time instead of a week. Roberta returns and sits once more in the chair designed for people who can walk. This time she has a folder with her, although Risa can’t see what’s inside.

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” Roberta asks her.

“I don’t need to. I already gave you my answer.”

“It’s very noble to stand on principle and refuse an unwound spine,” Roberta says. “It does, however, represent a wrongful mind-set that is neither productive nor adaptive. It’s backward, actually, and it makes you part of the problem.”

“I plan to keep my ‘wrongful mind-set’ as well as my wheelchair.”

“Very well. I won’t deny you your choice.” Roberta shifts in her chair—perhaps a little irritated, or maybe just in anticipation. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Then she stands and opens the door. Risa knows that whoever it is has been waiting in the other room, watching through the oneway mirror.

“You can come in now,” Roberta says cheerfully.

A boy steps in cautiously. He seems sixteen or so. He has multicolored skin and multicolored streaks in his hair. At first she assumes it’s some sort of extreme body modification, but she quickly realizes it’s more than that. There is something profoundly wrong about him.

“Hi,” he says, and smiles tentatively with perfect teeth. “I’m Cam. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Risa.”

Risa backs away, her wheelchair bumping the wall. Now it strikes her exactly what she’s seeing—exactly why this boy seems so “off.” She has seen a news report about this creation. Her flesh starts to crawl. If it could, it would crawl right through the air vents to escape what she’s seeing.

“Get that thing away from me! It’s disgusting! Get it away!”

His expression mirrors Risa’s horror. He backs away and hits the wall as well.

“It’s all right, Cam,” Roberta says. “You know people always have to get used to you. And she will.” Roberta offers him the chair, but suddenly Cam doesn’t want to be there, he wants to escape just as much as Risa does.

Risa looks to Roberta so she doesn’t have to look at Cam. “I said get it out of here.”

“I’m not an it,” Cam insists.

Risa shakes her head. “Yes, you are.” She still won’t look directly at him. “Now get it out of here, or I swear I will rip every stolen part out of its body with my bare hands.”

She tries not to catch his gaze, but she can’t stop herself. The thing has begun to cry tears from someone else’s stolen tear ducts, and it just makes her angry.

“Dagger plunged deep,” he says. Risa has no idea what he’s talking about but doesn’t really care.

“Get it out of my sight,” she yells at Roberta, “and if you have any decency in you at all, you’ll kill it!”

Roberta looks at her sternly, and then turns to Cam. “You can go, Cam. Wait outside for me.”

Cam quickly, awkwardly, leaves, and Roberta closes the door. Now she’s fuming. If Risa can take anything positive out of this, it’s that she’s gotten the better of Roberta.

“You’re a cruel girl,” Roberta says.

“And you’re a monster to create a thing like that.”

“History will be the judge of who we are, and what we’ve done.” And then she puts a piece of paper down on the table. “This is a consent form. Sign it and you can have a new working spine by the end of the week.”

Risa picks it up, tears it to shreds, and throws the pieces in the air. Roberta must have been expecting this, because she instantly pulls out a second consent form from her folder and slaps it down on the table.

“You will be healed, and you will make up to Cam for how badly you’ve treated him today.”

“Not in this life, or any other.”

Roberta smiles like she knows something Risa doesn’t. “Well then . . . here’s hoping you have a sudden change of heart.” Then she exits the room, leaving the pen and the consent form on the table.

Risa looks at the consent form long after Roberta has gone. She knows she won’t sign it, but the fact that they want her to intrigues her. Why is it so important to them that her broken body be repaired? There’s only one answer to that: For some reason Risa is much more important than she ever dreamed she was. Important to both sides.

29 • Cam

He sits in the observation room. He’s been there more often than he’d like to admit, spying on Risa—although when it’s officially allowed through a one-way mirror, it’s not called spying. It’s called surveillance.

On the other side of the glass, Risa stares at the contract Roberta put before her. Her face is stony, her jaw clenched. Finally she picks up the page . . . then folds it into a paper airplane and throws it at the mirror. Cam jolts in spite of himself. He knows she can’t see him, but still she looks into the mirror at almost the right spot to make eye contact. For a moment Cam feels like she can see not only through the glass, but through him as well, and he has to look away.

He hates the fact that she hates him. He should have expected it, but still, her words hurt him deeply and make him want to hurt her back. But no. That’s just the reaction of the various Unwinds in his head; kids who would lash out at the slightest provocation. He won’t give in to those impulses. There are enough sensible parts of him to balance things and allow him to control those parts that threaten to disturb the peace. He reminds himself that, as Roberta has said, he is the new paradigm—the new model of what humanity could, and should, be. The world will get used to him, and in time revere him. And so will Risa.

Roberta comes into the room behind him and speaks quietly. “There’s no point staying here.”

“Jericho,” he says. “She’s a wall, but she’ll crumble. I know she will.”

Roberta smiles at him. “I have no doubt that you’ll win her over. In fact, I suspect she’ll change her mind sooner than you think.”

Cam tries to read between the lines of her smile, but she reveals nothing. “Cat that ate the canary—I don’t like when you keep secrets.”

“No secret,” Roberta tells him. “Just an undying faith in human nature. Now come, it’s almost time for your photo shoot.”

Cam sighs. “Another one?”

“Would you prefer a press conference?”

“A sharp stick in the eye? No thank you!”

Cam has to admit that this new approach to the media is far better than press conferences and interviews. Roberta and her friends at Proactive Citizenry have cooked up a first-class advertising campaign. Billboards, print ads, digital, the works. All just photos, but even so, the ads are powerful.