Revealing Eden

A
LSO BY
V
ICTORIA
F
OYT

The Virtual Life of Lexie Diamond
www.LexieDiamond.com

SAVE THE PEARLS PART ONE

a novel by

VICTORIA FOYT

2012 · S
AND
D
OLLAR
P
RESS
, I
NC
.
S
ANTA
M
ONICA
, C
ALIFORNIA

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

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

E
DEN 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 underneath 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.