30

It became very clear to us on the revolutionary council that the Corporate-induced lifestyle of conspicuous consumption was not sustainable for our planet, that man could not keep usurping the resources of the Earth without consequences. Others had warned of this before us, but we carried the banner of environmentalism into battle.

—Chairman Rahma, in an interview with The Green Times

ACCORDING TO THE wall screen it was midday, with bright, sunlit clouds on the horizon, east of the hills and tall buildings of the Berkeley Reservation for Humans. Joss stood in front of the projected image, cursing it for not being a real window view. For all he knew, it might not actually be midday; it could be nighttime. At the moment he loathed the SciOs and their technology, and felt an overwhelming desire to be free and breathe whatever gasps of outside air he could, for as long as he could.

Looking up at a surveillance cam, he said, “I’m not going to be your lab rat anymore, Dr. Mora, so I issue you fair warning. Stay out of my way and no one will be hurt.”

A woman’s voice came over an intercom, the synthesized one he’d heard before. “Don’t try anything foolish, Mr. Stuart.”

Ignoring the computerized warning, Joss rose to his feet and strode to the thick door that led to the hallway. He wondered if he was the only human awake in the research facility this early.

He corrected himself. The only sentient. With the altered, darkened color of his skin, and the green, vinelike scars on it, along with the odd powers he had acquired in the explosion, he wasn’t sure exactly what to call himself, other than this.

Joss felt the gathering roar in his pulse, and wove a small force field between his fingertips. Then, enlarging the field, he wove a protective net of black light around himself—leaving small openings in the energy field at his fingertips.

Through the gaps he fired controlled blasts of Dark Energy. The heavy door melted away, and he strode through it into the corridor.

Alarm klaxons sounded, and through the net he saw white-uniformed security officers running toward him. “Stop!” one of them yelled.

To demonstrate his power, Joss blasted a hole in a wall near the officers without hitting them, and walked toward them because the exit was in that direction. Looking terrified, they moved out of his way.

As he marched past an open doorway, a medical technician appeared suddenly and fired a sedative gun, a volley of red, whisper-silent projectiles. All of them bounced harmlessly off Joss’s threadlike shield.

Dr. Mora emerged ahead of him and stood in the middle of the hallway, his arms outstretched in a halting gesture. Medical attendants stood behind him. “We must work together!” he shouted to Joss. “Don’t do this! We’ll make a new arrangement!”

Joss ignored him and continued on, with his energy field repelling them, knocking them aside. He went past them, shouting, “I’m making my own arrangement.”

More people appeared, along with robots, but the energy barrier knocked them aside without the necessity of Joss taking conscious actions, or even sending mental commands. It was a repellent field, a disturbance area around his body that prevented anyone from getting too close to him. They couldn’t penetrate the field to inject him, tie him up, or shoot projectiles through. The field prevented every attempt.

Defiantly, Joss marched out of the bleak gray building and onto the streets of the Berkeley Reservation for Humans. As he strode down the shaded sidewalk, he saw white-uniformed SciO security officers following him, and other people pointing, beginning to take notice of him.

Joss didn’t understand what had happened to him in the explosion of the ReFac building, but his powers were obviously more than the “cute little talents” mentioned in government reports about him. He wasn’t sure what to do with his paranormal skills, or what the purpose of his life was from this point on. He only knew that he would never return to SciO control again.

Then he shuddered, remembering that he had SciO technology immersed in his cells.