Future Shock

4

My pen hovers over the blank line. Everything she said is true. I am desperate, and they’re offering a lot of money for one day of work. More money than I could ever expect to make on my own in a lifetime. Especially since no one is willing to hire a freak like me. If I turn this down, I’ll regret it forever.

There might be risks involved—but what other options do I have? No one else is going to help me. I’m on my own. And my time is running out.

I sign my name on the line.Thursday

A fancy black car picks me up early in the morning. I ride in the backseat in silence, like all the times I was chauffeured from one house to the next by one of my social workers. He always had me sit in the back too, like I was a criminal in a police car. And I always felt the same mix of uncertainty and fear swirling in my gut, along with the slightest trace of hope. Just like I do now.

We travel over an hour east of Los Angeles, to where civilization begins to give way to the desert. When there’s nothing around us but rocks and dirt, the car approaches a five-story building surrounded by a high fence with a security checkpoint. It’s the only thing in sight for miles and looks like a generic office: light gray exterior, shiny tinted windows, and perfectly trimmed trees breaking up the concrete sidewalk.

The driver drops me off in front of the glass doors, where Lynne is already waiting. She wears another smooth, black pantsuit, and her highlighted hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail. “Welcome to Aether Corporation, Elena. Please follow me.”

The lobby is bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows and light-colored hardwood floors, probably bamboo or something expensive. A frizzy-haired receptionist sits at a modern desk made of the same wood as the floor. The wall behind her displays the Aether Corporation logo in silver letters.

Both Lynne and the receptionist stare at me with wide smiles while I sign in at the front desk. We’re the only three people in the room, but I feel like I’m standing alone on a stage with an entire audience watching, waiting for me to screw up.

The receptionist hands me a badge with my name on it, which I attach to my shirt. Lynne leads me into an elevator with walls so shiny I can see our reflections in them. “We’re excited for you to get started,” she says. “But first we have to do some quick, routine medical tests.”

I say nothing as we ride up to the third floor. My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my jeans. I still have no idea what I’ve signed up for. As I tried to fall asleep last night, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a big mistake. But every time I thought about backing out, I remembered the money. No matter what the research project involves, it only lasts a few hours. I can survive anything for a few hours. It will all be over by the end of the night—and I’ll be a whole lot richer. No more worrying about where I’ll live or if I can get a job or whether or not I can afford to college. I’ll be set for life.

We get off the elevator, and I follow Lynne into an exam room, complete with a hospital bed and a tray full of medical equipment. “Please wait here,” she says. “A doctor will be with you shortly.”

She shuts the door behind her and I stare at the bed. It has one of those pink hospital gowns on it, the kind where your ass hangs out the back. No way am I putting that on.

Someone knocks on the door, but it opens before I can answer. A dark-skinned man in a lab coat enters the room and closes the door behind him. His hair is black with little tufts of gray above his ears. “Ms. Martinez? My name is Dr. Kapur. Please, sit down.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, the paper cover crinkling under me, and fight the panic building inside my chest. The door is right behind me. I can run if I need to. And just because he’s an older man and we’re alone doesn’t mean he’ll do anything to me. This is just a routine medical exam, nothing more.

He looks down at his clipboard. “I’m going to ask you a few questions before we start the tests. First, are you on any medication?” I shake my head. “Have you ever taken any drugs?”

“No.”

“What about alcohol?”

I stare at the linoleum floor and push back the memories that threaten to flood my mind. “No.”

“No, I suppose not, with your history.”

I glance up sharply. He knows. He probably has my entire life story there, written on his clipboard. I’ve never felt so naked before.

He eyes me like I’m a specimen he’s about to dissect. “Have you ever had any migraine headaches or blackouts?”

“No.”

“Have you ever had any suicidal thoughts or tendencies?”“What? No!” What kind of questions are these? Do they really need to know this kind of stuff?

“I’m going to check your blood pressure now.” He opens the cuff with a loud Velcro rip and places it on my arm. I try not to flinch at his touch. He smells like the overpowering fake lemon of cleaning products, and every instinct tells me to get away from him. Logically, I know he isn’t going to hurt me. He’s a doctor and Aether Corp wants me for their “project.” I agreed to this exam. But that still doesn’t stop the familiar terror from rising up.