Eve and Adam
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In the beginning, there was an apple –
And then there was a car crash, a horrible injury, and a hospital. But before Evening Spiker's head clears a strange boy named Solo is rushing her to her mother's research facility. There, under the best care available, Eve is left alone to heal.
Just when Eve thinks she will die – not from her injuries, but from boredom―her mother gives her a special project: Create the perfect boy.
Using an amazingly detailed simulation, Eve starts building a boy from the ground up. Eve is creating Adam. And he will be just perfect . . . won't he?
dishing out fruit cups is invisible. No one notices when I seem to be checking e-mail on my phone, but I’m actually taking a picture or hitting the “record” voice memo button. I’ve got a pretty good memory, and that helps, too. I pause and take a swig from my water bottle. Karen, one of the biochem research assistants, grabs a cheese Danish off my cart. “You get a promotion?” she asks. I shrug, move on, keep my eyes open. It’s hard to steal data here, very hard. But not impossible. My biggest
car starts without a sound. “Do you know how to drive?” I ask. “Do you have six dollars in cash?” Solo asks, ignoring my question. “I don’t exactly have my purse with me.” “Check the glove compartment. See if there’s a roll of quarters.” I dig under some maps and find two rolls. “Good. We have to use cash at the bridge.” I point to the automatic toll-road transponder mounted on the windshield. “Yeah,” he says. “Pull that down and put it in the glove compartment. We don’t want to be
good, solid left jab. Blood explodes from my nose. The guards are worried. They step in to stop him, but he backs away, hands up. “He had that coming. Little punk.” Blood runs from my nose and more streams of it come rolling down from my head, pooling in my eyes. I’m still trying to get my scattered wits back. “Who have you talked to about this?” Tommy asks. I make a mistake. I say, “No one.” But I say it too fast, and he picks up on it. “No one, huh? What’s ‘no one’s’ name, huh?” He looms
nature—trees, I think, flowers, even clouds—but most of the sculptures resemble animals. Next to me, rendered in smooth, white stone, is the suggestion of a ten-foot-tall bear. Near Eve I can make out a tiger in mid-leap—or maybe it’s a lion. No, it definitely feels like a tiger to me. There must be seven or eight of these strange animal shapes. None of them look precisely like anything, but they all manage to tell you what they might be, could be. “I haven’t been here in a long time. Not since
boy, he is in some sense mine. And I want him to know it. You are mine, Adam. Where the hell does that kind of thinking even come from? “You are the one who designed me,” Adam says. “I am your perfect match. Your soul mate.” “You know about all that?” The first hesitation. He isn’t being coy. He’s considering. “I don’t think I know all of anything, Evening.” I want to tell him to stop using my name because every time he does it sends a shiver through me. I don’t want a shiver. I don’t want