Save The Pearls Part One Read online

  ALSO BY VICTORIA FOYT

  The Virtual Life of Lexie Diamond

  www.LexieDiamond.com

  SAVE THE PEARLS PART ONE

  Revealing Eden

  a novel by

  VICTORIA FOYT

  2012 · SAND DOLLAR PRESS, INC.

  SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA

  Copyright © 2012 by Victoria Foyt

  All rights reserved

  Published by Sand Dollar Press, Inc.

  1301 Montana Avenue, Suite C

  Santa Monica, CA 90403

  www.SandDollarPress.com

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  SUGGESTED CATALOGING DATA

  Foyt, Victoria. Revealing Eden / by Victoria Foyt.

  Series title: Save the Pearls (Part One).

  Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world where class and beauty are defined by resistance to an overheated environment, 17-year-old Eden, a lowly Pearl cursed with white skin, and facing death if she doesn’t mate soon, unwittingly compromises her father’s top-secret experiment and escapes to the last patch of rainforest with a beastly man who she believes is her enemy, despite her overwhelming attraction.

  1. Global warming—fiction. 2. Race relations—fiction. 3. Human–animal hybridization—fiction. 4. Endangered species—fiction. 5. Dickinson, Emily (poet)—fiction. 6. Science fiction. I. Title.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011910826

  ISBN: 978-0-9836503-1-7

  The publisher would like to credit Emily Dickinson’s poems, used in excerpt or in entirety throughout this book.

  Book design and production: Studio E Books, Santa Barbara, California Chapter headings design © 2012 by Christopher Pardell Cover art by Matthew Desotell

  For Christopher, beastly and true

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  They say it takes a village to raise a child. The same analogy may apply to creating a novel, which is another kind of birth. I could never have written this book without the help of many others. Mostly, I’m grateful for the company of other writers, like Martha Michaels, who understands the pleasures and the difficulties of our craft, and who was so generous with her time. I’m particularly grateful to my dear friend and gifted writer, Martha Goldhirsh, who listened to my first ramblings and urged me to begin this book. And heartfelt thanks to Linda Loewenthal for her razor-sharp notes and strong belief in me. Of course, always, much gratitude to dear Henry Jaglom, who may be the world’s best cheerleader. I could never write a word if my giving, efficient assistant, Rachelle Whaley, didn’t keep the machine running. My family inspires me to do my best, and I thank Sabrina and Simon for putting up with their somewhat driven mother. And then there is Christopher Pardell, a true artist, who never ceases to amaze me with his tireless support, insightful comments, and deep understanding of the joys, and the toll, of passion.

  Come slowly, Eden!

  Lips unused to thee,

  Bashful, sip thy jasmines,

  As the fainting bee,

  Reaching late his flower,

  Round her chamber hums,

  Counts his nectars—enters,

  And is lost in balms!

  —Emily Dickinson

  SAVE THE PEARLS PART ONE

  Revealing Eden

  EDEN JUMPED at the sound of approaching steps. They must not see. Hide Beauty Map!

  Her mental command caused the Life-Band she wore to send a tiny white spark into the air. In a flash, the holographic images that appeared in front of her—a blond girl playing on a sunlit beach—disappeared.

  “What’s going on?” a woman asked.

  Eden shot to her feet, her heart racing, as a plump, dark-skinned lab assistant appeared on the other side of the partition. It was only Peach, who wasn’t as cruel as the rest of them.

  Eden’s blank emotional mask slammed into place. Never let them see how you feel. “Um,” she said. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t you monitor the test subjects’ medications?” Peach said.

  “Yes, of course.” Eden couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

  “Then why isn’t the report on schedule?”

  Had Peach forgotten that Eden’s skin only had a dark coating? Maybe she was passing, after all. Wouldn’t that be nice? Eden almost enjoyed pointing out the truth. “I’m not allowed to communicate on Priority One channels.”

  Peach grew flustered. “I know that. Why didn’t you give the report to Ashina?”

  In fact, Eden already had sent it to her supervisor, Ashina. But she couldn’t directly accuse a Coal, even if she was only late from her lunch break.

  “I sent it. But, well, my lunch break started ten minutes ago,” Eden said. To further soften her words, she smiled politely.

  A pair of mallard ducks took flight over a nearby sundappled lake along the far side of the lab. Eden automatically recalled their scientific name, Anas platyrhynchos—extinct birds and animals were her specialty. Of course, the Holo-Images were as fake as her smile.

  “What does your lunch break have to do—” Peach glanced at Ashina’s empty desk, then, seeming to grasp the situation, walked away without another word.

  A voice in Eden’s head, one she had been programmed to receive from the World-Band since birth, issued a gentle warning: Your heartbeat is elevated. Experience something pleasant, my dear.

  Eden slumped back in her chair with a heavy sigh. I’m a stone in a cool, dark cave. The small holographic image appeared in front of her while she repeated this soothing thought over and over. Soon, the constant, jumbled noise of the World-Band that streamed into her head grew distant. In that quiet, treasured space, she allowed herself one small but true thought: I hate them.

  And yet, if only Eden were one of them, she’d be beautiful and safe.

  But, at age seventeen, she was already middle-aged. She’d be lucky to make it to her forties. Despite her rat-like existence in the Combs, a network of dark, shadowy underground tunnels, where civilization burrowed to avoid the deadly levels of solar radiation, Eden undoubtedly would die from The Heat, just like her mother had.

  Most of the population only ventured outside at night when the effects of radiation were at its lowest. Some people—the fairest in complexion, like Eden—had never been outside. Once, when she was little, her mother had woken her at dawn.

  —Come, Eden. It’s your turn to see the light.

  They had ridden several underground hovercrafts until they reached a special set of stairs. The guard on duty had inspected them before letting them climb to the upper level. There, they stood at a special viewing window that was tinted and sealed. The sight of the steaming rocks and an endless sea of pale, tired dirt had saddened Eden even though she’d never known a green Earth. Her mother had pointed to a pile of bleached bones.

  —We must be careful, daughter.

  The message had been clear: this is where you’ll end up if you don’t obey. All Pearls, the racist term for whites, feared the light.

  If it weren’t for Eden’s Life-Band, a simple hoop earring that she wore in her right ear, she wouldn’t last a night. At the age of seven, she had chosen the copper earring—the only personal decision she’d ever made. She thought of it as an appendage, as vital as her heart or lungs. Her Life-Band gave her the freedom to travel in her mind anywhere in the past. It was better than having to face her uncertain future.

  Thank Earth, the Uni-Gov provided her with a Life-Band. They cared about her.

  Everyone had a Life-Band, though most wore it discreetly, hidden in a specially sewn pants pocket or as a locket u
nderneath a shirt. As if they didn’t need it to survive.

  Eden needed hers within easy reach. So she could believe it would never be taken away. So she could escape.

  And right now, she wanted to escape back to the beach, to see the happy blonde. She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she found herself giving the silent command, anyway. The sensors planted in her head at birth, which connected her to the World-Band, where all holographic images were stored, responded with a slight tingle.

  A familiar rush of pleasure, mixed with fear, coursed through her at the sight of the white girl. Images of Pearls in natural coloring were forbidden. If they caught Eden looking, she would be punished.

  And yet, she couldn’t resist watching the pale, slim girl bounce a multi-colored ball over to a young man who was also white-skinned. She wore a polka-dot bikini—all that skin exposed! Nearby, other whites lounged on thick towels or cabana chairs, or played cards at tables out in broad daylight! Sunshine glittered on a blue ocean that stretched across the semi-circular cove like a big happy smile. Children, lots of them, even siblings, chased after the rushing ocean waves, back and forth. Their shrill screams floated on the air—but these were screams of joy, not terror.

  Ms. Polka-Dot Bikini was Eden’s kind, right down to her long blond hair and big blue eyes. And yet, according to the antique Beauty Map, she had been prized for her beauty—which meant, if Eden had been born in an earlier time, she too might have been beautiful.

  Me? Eden Newman, beautiful? No matter how often she studied the precious map she couldn’t imagine it. She was a lowly Pearl, worth nothing in a world ruled by dark-skinned Coals.

  Once again, Eden silently quit the map. She really had to stop torturing herself like that.

  That bitch Ashina was now fifteen minutes late and Eden wanted to take her break. She glanced around the lab, hoping for a sign of the haughty Coal. Large fans whirred in the vaulted ceiling, circulating cooled air, which helped preserve viral stem cell cocktails. Best of all, the light breeze eased Eden’s fiery nerves.

  An operating theater rose above the far end of the room, dominating the space. The real action took place there. Eden saw her father in the middle of it, hunched over a large, empty console. A series of mathematical equations seemed to dance in the air around him. The Life-Band on his wrist flashed with wild energy, emitting a stream of white sparks. His body sagged from some Herculean mental effort.

  That was Father. A brain on a stick.

  Some brain, too. Because of his high intelligence scores, they had overlooked his race and given him the position of lead scientist at Resources for Environmental Adaptation, or REA. He even had secured Eden a plum researcher’s job at the lab. They were the only Pearls allowed to work there.

  Tomorrow night, her father’s momentous experiment would take place. Eden might be powerless, but she smiled at the secret knowledge that she was one of only three people who understood how he was about to change the world, and possibly, even save it.

  With smug satisfaction, she considered the dozens of assistants—gorgeous dark-skinned Coals, every last one of them—who labored in a warren of workstations below the operating theater. They sat trance-like, their eyes glazed over, their bodies slack, working their Life-Bands. Large, spidery formations of DNA sequences morphed at a rapid pace in front of them. Wavering, yellowish solar lights barely illuminated their grim faces. Uniform white lab coats, layered over black clothing, presented a picture of false calm. But it couldn’t hide the thick tension in the room. Even the Mood Scents of fresh grass and wet wood that floated in the air didn’t help.

  Eden couldn’t imagine the immense pressure her father was under. Possibly, that explained why he worked round the clock. Or maybe he’d simply been avoiding her since her mother’s death, seven years ago. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him at the unit they shared in the workers’ quarters. Not that they ever said much to each other anymore.

  As he turned his head, Eden winced at the sight of pale skin peeking through his worn, dark coating. For Earth’s sake, how was she supposed to pass when her father didn’t maintain standards?

  She smoothed a hand over her long black hair to reassure herself. Like her skin, the layers of dark coating—Midnight Luster—she’d worn since birth had turned it dry and crackly. A small price to pay for beauty and for protection. She had to cover her white skin or risk antagonizing the Coals.

  At last, Eden heard Ashina’s brisk footsteps on the concrete floor and stole a glance at her nemesis, envious of the beauty’s easy confidence. Voluptuous, with raisin-colored skin, everything about Ashina screamed ruling class.

  Of course, the dark races got The Heat, too, but not nearly as often. The higher amounts of melanin in their skin protected them from the sun’s radiation. Since their numbers hadn’t been decimated in The Great Meltdown, as the other races’ had, they now ruled the planet.

  Eden bet Ashina had dozens of suitors offering to pick up her mate option. She could afford to choose someone she liked instead of angling to improve her offspring’s genetics, while Eden was assigned to the bottom of the reproductive heap like all Pearls. Good Earth, her mate-rate was an embarrassing fifteen percent. Only Cottons, the derogatory word for albinos, were lower, and they were extinct.

  Time was running out. If Eden wasn't mated in six months when she turned eighteen—the deadline for girls—she'd be cut off from Basic Resources, and left outside to die. But who would want a lowly Pearl like her?

  Ashina took her seat, a nasty gleam in her eyes. Cold, slick fear slid down Eden’s throat. She slowly rose to her feet with her head lowered.

  “I’ll take my break now, if it’s okay with you?” she said.

  “Just a minute,” Ashina said, sharply. “You failed to send me your report on the test subjects.”

  Eden froze. “But I did, I’m sure I did. I even checked my work several times.” While I was waiting for you.

  The bitch pointed to the blank space in front of her. “There’s nothing here. Sit down. I’m not going to be responsible for your screw-ups.”

  How many times had Eden heard it? White people were lazy good-for-nothings with weak genetics.

  “Maybe a solar flare caused a technical glitch?” Eden tried to control the hysteria rising in her. “I swear my report is there.”

  Ashina jumped up and grabbed Eden’s lab coat. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  Eden flinched. One of them was touching her. White-hot light exploded in her head. Before she knew it, she blurted out an incendiary racial slur.

  “Get your hands off of me, you damn Coal!”

  Holy Earth.

  An alarming hush fell over the lab. Then Ashina slapped her cheek, the sound explosive in the deadly quiet. Eden sucked in her breath with a loud gasp. The girl lunged for her, but Eden jumped out of reach.

  “She pushed me!” Ashina cried, falling to the floor.

  The workers jerked to their feet, the screech of chairs against the floor raking across Eden’s heart. She looked around the room in a panic. Even those whom she thought tolerated her presence hurled racial epithets.

  “Earth-damned Pearl!”

  “White Death!”

  The angry mob lurched towards Eden, just like in her nightmares. The Coals were going to kill her. They would drag her outside and leave her to cook in the sun.

  EDEN BACKED towards the laboratory exit, her heart pounding. From the operating theater she heard her Father call out in a shaky voice. “Daught!”

  Daught for daughter. To him, she was simply one of life’s sub-classifications—genus daughter. At least, he’d noticed her. But what could he do?

  Eden lowered her gaze in a submissive gesture all Pearls used. Never engage a Coal. Don’t look a Coal in the eye unless requested. Then she turned and ran.

  She heard the workers running after her. Angry voices hit her like laser blasts. Terrified, she glanced over her shoulder at them. To her surprise she saw them come to an abrupt halt, their fur
ious expressions melting to fear.

  Eden slammed into a wall. At least, that’s what it felt like. She turned to find herself in the clutches of the imperious Ronson Bramford, owner of REA.

  Speechless, she stared up into his dark, gleaming eyes. A glint of light shone down on his black, shaved head, adding to his magnetic effect. Then he jerked away, as if Eden really were poison, and turned his steely gaze on the crowd.

  “Back to work,” Bramford said in a calm but commanding voice. Relieved, she began to leave when he added, “Not you, Eden.”

  She wasn’t sure which was worse: being murdered by a mob or dealing with the arrogant bastard. As usual, Bramford stared at a point just over her shoulder as he addressed her, which made her feel small and dirty. It had been like that ever since they’d met when REA was founded three years ago.

  But why should he bother to look at her? With a stellar mate-rate of ninety-eight and skin the color of storm clouds, Bramford was at the top of the heap. Men had until the age of twenty-four to mate, though Eden often wondered why Bramford waited. She assumed that most women found the twenty-two-year-old Coal attractive even without his riches. In a heartless-monster sort of way.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked her.

  Eden stared, perplexed. Did he really want to know what she thought?

  “Well?”

  She searched for the right words when Ashina strode up beside her.

  “She attacked me, sir,” the bitch said, acting the injured party.

  To Eden’s surprise, Bramford questioned the little actress. “Is that so, Ashina?”

  A Coal’s word outweighed a Pearl’s. Always. And yet Bramford hesitated. He wasn’t a man who hesitated, and Eden wondered why.