Part 6 (2/2)

They traveled toward GlobalHelix without talking any further. At one point Grace spied Mfumbe, Kayla, and Katie riding ahead of them. Eric flew up and buzzed them from above before speeding past.

After twenty minutes, they turned the corner toward GlobalHelix. Grace looked at Eric directly for the first time since learning the truth about their relations.h.i.+p.

”What?” he asked.

”I didn't say anything,” she pointed out.

”That scowl on your face did, though,” Eric countered. ”What's wrong? Is my driving making you sick?”

”No,” Grace replied. ”You lied to me. Why didn't you tell me what was going on?”

”I wanted to, Grace, but I couldn't. I wouldn't have been doing my job if I had. You can understand that, can't you?”

”Yes. You were just doing your job. How could I not understand that?” Grace replied. ”Still ... I thought we were friends.”

”We are friends,” Eric insisted as he slowed the swing-lo in front of the Global-1 headquarters. ”I'm going over this gate so I can park the swing-lo inside, then your code will get us in the front door.”

”If it works,” Grace said.

”Yeah. If it works.”

Once more the swing-lo rose and easily sailed over the wall before descending on the lawn outside the headquarters. Low amber lights glowed from the lobby. There was no sign of activity inside. They left the craft stashed behind some forsythia bushes and headed for the front entrance.

Grace ran her new bar code tattoo across the front door scanner.

ACCESS DENIED.

”Maybe it's too soon. I'll try the eye scan.”

ACCESS DENIED.

”You've been wiped clean. They're not admitting you anymore. Can you think of another way in?”

”There's a door on the roof that isn't scanner protected, but it's usually locked.”

Eric's eyes darted to the swing-lo and back to Grace. ”Want to try it?”

”Can it go that high?”

”We'll find out.”

Grace gazed up at the huge spiral sculpture on the roof. Looking up was vastly preferable to looking down. She had never been frightened of heights, but as the aircraft rose, it began to s.h.i.+mmy, first just slightly. But the higher they went, the more violent the shaking became.

”Don't worry, Jack has landed on this roof before,” Eric said, though his expression was not confident. ”And that was with the first swing-lo.”

Grace kept her eyes fixed on the twisting sculpture and remembered what she'd learned in biology: the double helix represented a spiral polymer of nucleic acids held together by nucleotides that base-paired together. It was how genetic information was stored and copied. Genetics was what Global-1 was all about. It had started as a company that made hybrid food and grew to one that made animal clones for meat production. Now it was trying to make hybrid people. And it was doing everything in its power to control the population, just as they had cornered the market on the world's food supply. We're just a product to them, like cattle, Grace had seen Ambrose Young quoted as saying in a recent article - the image had stuck with her, even though she'd thought at the time it was overblown. Now she considered it in a different light as the swing-lo rose ever higher.

What's Genetics Got to Do with It?

Article by Allyson Minor Reporting from the California Inst.i.tute of Technology GMO: genetically modified organism. All your fruits and vegetables are genetically modified. As far back as the early 2000s Global-1, acting under the company names of its subsidiaries, was granted patents on its hybridized foods. In the 2010s, it filed for and received patents for its cloned sheep, cattle, and pigs. These were then used not only as meat for consumption but also as living tissue for its organ cloning programs. Maybe you've seen the famous photo of the rat with a human ear growing from its spine. And then Global-1 turned its attention to you.

That's right: you. And all your human friends and family. How would it be if you could fly? Or see in the dark? It might be cool. It might save lives.

The problem is that Global-1 thinks that since it is going to such huge expense to develop these technologies that could improve you - just as they believe they've improved the tomato and the pig - they should also have a patent on you.

Put simply, Global-1 wants to own you.

And it practically does.

It has already branded almost all of us who are seventeen and over with its bar code tattoo. I resisted for a while but gave in so I could enter college. I was suspicious but even I didn't know that my genetic information was being studied and stored within the lines of the Bar Code or that nan.o.bots introduced into my bloodstream during the tattooing process were adding a machine component that could be manipulated by Global-1 at will.

The brave individuals who have been able to resist the bar code tattoo and who have exposed these outrages to the public are not convinced that the danger has been resolved. Despite calls for his resignation, Loudon Waters, the Global-1 p.a.w.n, is still our president. The bar code tattoo continues to be the law of the land.

”We're just a product to them, like cattle,” Ambrose Young has told the Senate.

But why would the government listen to resistors? If we are cattle to Global-1, then the government is a herd of sheep.

Decode remains committed to guarding your freedom. Support them in any way you can. When you meet a Postman - the Decode organization that works to keep you communicating off the grid - ask how you can help.

Eric and Grace sped lightly down the dimly lit top floor of the GlobalHelix offices. The roof door had been locked, but luckily it was an old-fas.h.i.+oned lock, and among the few items Eric carried in a backpack was a lock-picking kit.

Once they were inside, they headed down a flight of stairs to an executive suite of offices. It was strange for Grace to think that just this morning, she worked here. She pointed at the line of light emanating from under the door of Dr. Harriman's office. She'd never been inside it, but she knew where it was.

”He's still here,” she whispered to Eric.

Or at least she hoped so. It could also be a trap.

There was only one way to find out.

”Dr. Harriman?” Grace inquired as she opened the door.

Dr. Harriman looked up sharply from the laptop on his desk.

He did not look happy to see her.

”Grace! What are you doing here?”

”I need to talk to you. You're the inventor of the bar code tattoo. Do you know why there is a priority file on me?”

”Well, you're certainly a direct young woman.”

”I have to be. My family is missing. I'm trying to find them and I can't afford to wait.”

It was as if Grace could see his scientific mind weighing the options. ”Maybe I do know something about it,” he hedged. ”Who is your friend?”

Eric stepped forward. ”My name is Eric Chaca.”

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