I didn’t know how to act normal when I was terrified or with Greer holding my hand.
Right before the station was a small park with public bathrooms. Greer pulled me into one of the family bathrooms and locked the door. He placed his bag on the counter, opened it, and took out a small spray bottle. “We have to cover our DNA.”
I held my breath, prepared for the burning pee smell, so I was happily surprised when it didn’t smell at all. Greer read my expression. “It’s a lot better when you don’t have to pretend to be an animal. Train agents scan people; they don’t scrape DNA.”
“Open your mouth.” The mouth spray tasted like fake strawberries. “This lasts 48 hours. That should be long enough for us to find the professor, get our answers, and then catch a train back north.”
“If you have this stuff, won’t they be expecting that we’d cover our DNA? And what about facial recognition? I mean, we have that in my world and we’re years behind this place. And my eyes.”
“I have things covered. Let me worry about it.” Greer took a pack of contacts from the bag. “Can you put these in?”
I nodded, happy at least I had once worn colored contacts for a play in school. After a minute, I had the lenses in. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror, and I admired my altered reflection and brown eyes. Besides being a little gaunt from all the hiking, I was the old me, like I could have stepped out of my house after recovering from a bad stomach bug. Greer walked in behind me. This is what we would’ve been like in my old life, and for a second, I imagined us going out to a nice dinner, perhaps a picnic at the Watkins Glen. I wished I had the stylists from the L’Autre Bête. “I wish I had makeup.”
“You look nice,” Greer said.
“Better than the uniform, I suppose.” I turned around, bitterly remembering the night with the chocolate.
Greer moved in front of me and slipped a stray curl behind my ear. “I like your freckles.”
“You do?” I asked and swallowed nervously.
Greer nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Church bells rang out the time, noon. “We’ve got to be going. Here.” He handed me a card. “Your ID.”
My name was Hannah Osborne, and the picture was me for sure. It looked identical to my driver’s license except my eyes were brown. “How did you get this?”
“We’ve got connections.”
Back in L’Autre Bête, some part of me assumed that my uncle had thrown out my bag and then Enzo scrambled to find my stuff. I had never thought the Galvantry had stolen it. The Merrics had no idea how infiltrated they were.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
Greer gave me his card. I had to admit; it wasn’t the best picture. It was undeniably him, but it lacked any of his charm, as if the photo was snapped after Greer stayed up for three days straight. I noticed the name. “Andrew Osborne? We have the same last name?”
Greer took my hand into his. “If anyone asks, we’re going to the beach for a vacation to Pea Island.”
“Pea Island. Got it.” I felt my anxiety rising. I wondered if Greer chose brown so we could look like family. “Brother and sister going to Pea Island?”
“No! Not siblings, if you don’t mind.” Greer let go of my hand and put it around my waist instead. I jumped, and he laughed. “No one in their right mind would think we’re family. We’re pretending to be a couple, so try not to jump or scream when I touch you, okay?”
“Okay.” My stomach twisted. Oh, how I wished this situation were anything but what it was.
Greer must have misread my face because he dropped his hand from my waist. “Don’t worry, this is as bad as it gets.”
“No, it wasn’t—” I stopped what I was going to say because I didn’t want to admit how much I wished we were a couple.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just... um... any last-minute advice?”
“Let everyone else do the talking. People have a way of letting you know exactly what they think if you sit and listen.”
“I wish we weren’t doing this.” I leaned back against the sink. “I wish we were anyplace but here.”
“We’ll be fine.”
Greer went over the details of his train plans several times. We were a couple going to Pea Island on vacation together. We’d have to check our luggage. The scan would include breathing into a cubox. The whole time, we’d have to watch everything we said, both at the station and on the train, because you never knew who—or what—was listening in.
Men, women, and children crowded into the little station, which to be honest, looked like any regular town train station.
The train wasn’t there yet, but people were already forming a line to get on. Two young men stood at the front, scanning the people with cuboxes and patting them down.
As we got closer to the agents, people complained.
“Stupid Libratiers,” a man hissed. “Never had these lines before.”
His wife jabbed his rib. “Shush and let the people do their jobs.”
Behind us was an even longer line, and some were pushing forward. Greer took my waist to keep us together.
Both agents opened up at the same time, and when they saw me, they had leering, unprofessional smiles. They both signaled I should come over to them. Greer looked up at them from under his eyebrows. If looks killed, they’d both be dead men. I’d watched the protocol for the last ten minutes, so I understood what to do. I put my hat and sunglasses on the table, and the agent held up the cubox, and I blew out the flame. My face popped
