In a futuristic society where people are differentiated and valued based on the purity of their genes, can a person define for themselves who they really are? Or does The Gene Test provide the answer for them?
Depression... Addiction... Criminality...
"I-I'm so sorry, man! I didn't know she was your girl..." the burly man stutters, appearing nervous under Sterling's piercing glare. Does he know these guys?
"Yeah, well now you know, so let her go." Sterling's simple answer shocks me — the fact that he didn't correct the man's statement. But it does prove to be effective, as the man raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back away from me.
"I haven't seen you around lately, Stephan," says the man. "You haven't come down to The Pit for a while." Why does this guy call him Stephan? He seems to respond to the name, so it's not a case of mistaken identity.
I guess Sterling is leading more secret lives than I thought. I always find myself getting caught in the middle of his intertwined identities, much to my chagrin, and reluctant intrigue. I have enough identity crises of my own; I don't have the time or effort to be curious about his.
I notice Sterling sneak a glance at me from the corner of his eye, as if reminding himself of my presence so as to be careful about what he says next.
"I probably won't be going there for a while."
"Aww, come on, Stephan, don't be like that. The Pit calls for you! The roaring of the fans, chanting your name, the glory of the win... Don't you miss it?"
"I don't go to The Pit for those reasons."
"The Pit?" I echo, as it registers in my head. That grey building with the pink sign on the front which he pulled me away from earlier... He used to be a regular customer? I really wonder what that place is, it sounds marvelously anarchic in there.
"See, Stephan? Even your girl is curious now."
"No, she's not, Marco."
"I am, actually," I pipe in, a hint of challenge in my eyes.
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Who is he to speak for me? I'm not... his girl. I'm my own person, with my own opinions. Though, judging by the way Sterling's eyes flash at me, maybe this opinion wasn't the best to voice out in front of this sketchy gangs of thugs.
"No, you're not," he repeats, sending me a warning through his widened grey eyes. "Look, Marco, it's been a sweet reunion, but I have better places to be. Don't expect to see me coming to The Pit anytime soon."
"If that's the case, I'll have to keep hounding you until you do. We all want to see you again, it's been too long. I miss my apprentice..."
Sterling puffs out an exasperated breath. "Haven't you found another apprentice yet?"
"Come on, Nite. Just one match. One match, and I'll get off your back, then you and your girl can go off on your romantic date without me and my boys bothering you." That leader guy, Marco, has keen negotiation skills, and he knows its working, because the left side of his face lifts in a crafty smirk. "What do you say?"
