Genosimulation (A Teen & Young Adult Science Fiction): A Young Adult Science Fiction Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page B

beneath the heavy legs of the grocery
store owner and her mysterious ally, leaving in their place a different kind of
vibration which began in the belly of Zomy, and raided every little organ of
his. Like his father, so the cats. Like his father.
    Years later, on a casual summer day, the grocery store owner
found that all her money had been withdrawn from her bank account, her house
had been sold to an international company, and her grocery store owed millions
to different suppliers (of which about five hundred thousand shekels was to a
particular rat poison manufacturer). As she turned to the police for help, the
police computer remembered an urgent detention order against her name for the
extreme avoidance of income tax.
     
     
    4/4/01. MSN chat
    Nucleotide: Interesting name you chose this time.
    Mr fate: I am trying. And you are...?
    Nucleotide: The one from Bnei Brak
    Mr fate: Ah. What does your name mean?
    Nucleotide: Nucleotide is a small piece of DNA.
    Mr fate: Ok...
    Mr fate: I must ask you something.
    Nucleotide: Ask away.
    Mr fate: You really ruined her life like that?
    Nucleotide: Yes.
    Mr fate: Ok… it's a bit risky to upset you… isn't it?
    Nucleotide: LOL!
    Nucleotide: I'm not as evil as you think.
    Mr fate: Not evil… just vindictive. Dangerous.
    Nucleotide: Only to those who I have a really good reason to
take revenge on.
    Mr fate: And there was a reason? Not that I don’t love
animals, I’ve had a dog for years, but still - what had she done to deserve
this? Overall, the cats were a nuisance.
    Nucleotide: Cats are a nuisance… even people can be a
nuisance… but is it right to kill them with rat poison?
    Mr fate: We both know it's not because she killed the cats.
It's because she killed your dream.
    Nucleotide: I thought about it a lot, and I consulted with
Rabbi Eligad. He said - and I think he's right - it's both.
    Mr fate: Who is Rabbi Eligad anyway? You mentioned him
before.
    Nucleotide: Rabbi Eligad… a holy man. Amazing man.
    Mr fate: I thought you’re Exrel.
    Nucleotide: I am… nothing to do with it. Rabbi Eligad is an
occultist. A Kabalah man. He's a truly a holy man, a special man.
    Mr fate: Explain.
    Nucleotide: He's a prophet.
     
    *
     
    "Rabbi Eligad want to see you."
    The thin voice surprised him. At thirteen-and-a-half, and
being a real "Shababnik" (a street resident) Zomy's voice got to the
point in which one moment it could be squeaky and a moment later – deeply
mature.
    The special thing was, Zomy knew to play with his voice at
will. When he was with the other "Shababnikim", meeting other
children thrown into the street, he preferred to use the new-found
authoritative bass voice. In other cases, such as when he asked, with awe, half
a shekel from a passerby, or a slice of bread, he made use of the thinner,
babyish voice.
    That was very similar to the sound that called him from
above.
    He looked up the stairs. There was a beautiful girl, about
16, dressed with proper modesty, her cheeks freckled, her hair light brown and
crystal blue eyes shining. Eyes that were focused on him.
    Still he looked around, not sure who she meant. After all,
he was playing a hot game, and around him were quite a few children, all
refugees, like him, proud citizens of the lane.
    "Excuse me?" he said.
    "You. Rabbi Eligad wants to see you."
    "Are you sure? Do you know who I am?"
    "Yes. Come with me."
    With a graceful wave of her blue dress she turned on her
heel, leaving Zomy no more than one second for hesitation.
    This was the first time Zomy realized how one second, just
one second, can be long. And fatal. At the beginning of that second he was still
a child, in the world of children, in the midst of a fateful bet, chained in
brutal rivalry with another child. His past, his future, his present - they all
had one particular shade, childish.
    But in that instant he saw as for the first time, the exposed
ankles of her maturity. Slender, shiny ankles. And above them a feminine dress,
blue, waving, hiding