Synthetic: Dark Beginning Read Free

wet. 
    He unstuck one arm at a time and squiggled backward so he could get a full view of the container that resembled a space capsule.  He tilted his head to the side and shrugged with four of his arms. 
    “Are you serious?” said Kora.  “I can't get you into my swimming pool but you're going to ride in that thing?”
    Ishmael lifted several arm tips and waved them in the air before walking them toward Kora.
    “Too many dirty people? Randall and I are the only ones who use it, and the staff cleans it every morning and evening.” 
    Ishmael shot her a look she could recognize from a mile away.  By
dirty people
he meant Randall.
    She gave Ishmael's side an affectionate slap; she loved the solid feel of him.  Despite her teasing, Kora was relieved he was going tomorrow.  Ishmael was her anchor.  His eyes were the first she saw looking down on her when she woke up at Mirafield, and the idea of life without him was unbearable. 
    “Randall told me you think this trip is a bad idea. May I ask why?”  Ishmael squiggled over to a nearby drawer where he fussed with some glassware.  Kora knew he was avoiding the question so she leaned over to inspect his work.  “Are those completely clean? I see a spot on that beaker.” 
    He rolled his huge eyes and yanked the drawer out so he could carry it to the washer.  He dumped the glass into the sink, set the drawer down, and signed, “You won't like anything you learn from going home. It's not a good place for you. Forget about your lost past and look to the future.”
    “And my marriage to Randall?”
    Ishmael's whole body slumped. “You don't have to marry that loser. He won't do anything to you because you're the only one in this stupid company who does any work.”
    Kora knew he was right, but she couldn't take that chance. Without her job at Mirafield, she was nothing. And what would happen to Ishmael? They'd probably dump him out in the filthy ocean where he'd contract some terminal illness, get picked on by the other sea creatures, and have no idea how to fend for himself. Kora prepared his meals of organic fish herself, and carefully monitored the purity of his tank water so he stayed healthy. “Could you give me some idea of what it is I won't like if I go back home?”
    “Nothing I say will make you understand.” He poked at a filthy test tube. “I've tried and you never listen.”
    Kora shoved his arms aside and loaded the glassware into the chemical washer.  She didn't trust Ishmael to have it done before they left. Dirty equipment in the sink all week wouldn't bother him, but she wouldn't be able to sleep at night.  “I would listen if you told me something that makes sense.  The fact that you've refused to tell me the truth is the whole reason we're going.” She slammed the lid shut and pressed the start button.  “I love you more than anyone, but I wish you were straight with me.”
    Ishmael ran a tentacle delicately down her cheek.  “Unlike Randall, I've never lied to you. But I know you, Kora, and the only way you're going to believe anything is if you find out for yourself.”
     
     

Chapter 2
     
    The parts of Santa Monica that sat outside of Mirafield's walls were surprisingly squalid.  Ragged children played in the streets and people on the sidewalks waved their fists and threw trash at their limo. “I didn't realize the rest of the city was so poor,” said Kora.
    Randall held out his glass and Alex refilled it with champagne. “These people are out here for a reason.”
    “And what's that?” asked Kora.
    “They lack either talent or motivation. In many cases, both.” He gazed languidly out the window as he sipped from his tall glass.  “If they were worth their salt, they'd be on the inside of Mirafield's walls instead of the outside.”
    Kora stared at a six-year-old girl on the sidewalk, her tattered pants hung off of her lean body as she trailed along behind her mother. She'd heard her maids complaining, once, that