ALL NOVEL 0007 – Adherence to Personality
Zoe Carter emerged from the supermarket, her complexion shadowed slightly, as if she bore an invisible weight alongside the heavy backpack she carried.
Moments earlier, she had discovered something peculiar while perusing the market: her sense of smell had heightened to an extraordinary degree. It was as if she could distinguish every scent with astonishing clarity, an ability she quickly put to use. Standing by the entrance, she effortlessly determined which foods were fresh and fit for consumption, a skill that saved her the hassle of inspecting each item individually. For a brief spell, she became entirely absorbed in the experience, like a sponge drawing in every aroma.
But that gift soon revealed its curse.
The overwhelming barrage of odours—those from bustling crowds, the market’s public lavatories, and all the myriad, unnoticed smells of human metabolism—rushed at her. Sweat, skin secretions, breath. All of it, amplified by her keen sense, engulfed her. In that instant, Zoe grasped the true danger of her newfound sensitivity.
Initially, she had braced herself for the more common human scents, knowing that body odour and breath carried peculiar notes due to the microbial processes at work. But the presence of the restroom? That was a reality she hadn’t anticipated.
Thankfully, as though reacting on instinct, her body adapted. She quickly learned to moderate the intensity of her sense of smell. With some effort, she could suppress the more unpleasant odours, dulling them to what the average person might notice, though never blocking them out entirely. Hastily, she sniffed the remaining food aromas in the market and left, but her expression remained marred by her unsettling ordeal.
Afterward, she stopped by a nearby shop to purchase some fitness equipment—dumbbells, jump ropes, and a yoga mat. This small, mundane task seemed to restore her spirits somewhat. Yet, despite this, the experience had unsettled her deeply, leaving her with much to ponder.
Through it all, one unsettling thought began to take shape in her mind: perhaps her evolving abilities would inevitably set her apart from ordinary humans. Could this be the beginning of a vast gulf that might separate her from the rest of humanity?
As she mulled over the idea, Zoe envisioned a future where humans might appear to her as little more than chattering, bothersome monkeys. If her evolution continued unchecked, bringing further enhancements, she might come to view people with increasing detachment. Even now, the normal scents and chemical reactions of human bodies had started to make her uncomfortable. What would happen if her other senses heightened in the same way? If she could see every minute flaw on a person’s skin, would humans appear grotesque and unworthy of attention?
Such thoughts weighed heavily on her.
Human evolution, after all, didn’t happen in sudden leaps. It was a gradual process, shaped over millennia by social and environmental pressures. Species thrived through cooperation, with social bonds and conformity guiding much of their behaviour. Non-conforming individuals often struggled to survive, let alone pass on their genes. Zoe, like everyone else, was descended from those who had conformed, and the instinct to fit in ran deep.
Now, though, she faced the uneasy prospect of drifting away from that norm, perhaps even becoming something altogether different. Yet, she made a decision as she walked, setting her resolve. No matter where this path of evolution led, she would remain true to herself. She would not allow these changes to alter her core values. Even if she was destined to diverge from the human race, she would do so on her own terms, embracing the distance without losing her identity.
With this resolve, the tension within her eased. She was about to head home to unpack her groceries and record the new changes she had noticed when her phone chimed with a notification.
Glancing at the screen, she saw a message from Hapsburg Station: "Please pick up your package at Building 5, Units 9-10, Wingsgone New Village, 1st District."
It took her a moment to recall what it was about. The package contained teaching materials that her neighbour, Benny, had asked her to order before the New Year Festival. The delivery had been delayed due to the holiday, but it had finally arrived. Benny was likely in the garden near Hapsburg Station now, so it would be convenient to collect the package together.
With that in mind, Zoe made her way towards the station. As she approached, she noticed a group of children gathered around a stone table in the garden. Among them, Benny’s somewhat rotund figure stood out, his appearance a curious mix of Mediterranean and Mexican heritage.
As she drew nearer, Zoe overheard the tallest child in the group, a burly boy, shaking a water gun in his hand. "So, why do you always draw the big cards, huh? Tell me!" he demanded.
Benny, ever the eccentric, spread his hands and replied, "There are many things of which a wise man might wish to remain ignorant."
His words were met with puzzled silence from the children. Benny, slightly flustered by the lack of the usual laughter or applause, scratched his head and added, "That’s what Ralph Waldo Emerson said in 'Speeches and Biographies.'"
Alas, the children, most of whom were still in primary school, had no idea who Emerson was, and the air remained thick with awkwardness.
The tall boy, however, took the remark as a challenge. His face twisted into a scowl as he raised his water gun and aimed it squarely at Benny. "I want to know!" he growled.
Before anyone could react, the child pulled the trigger, sending a jet of water hurtling towards Benny. But in a flash, Zoe appeared beside him, swiftly pulling him aside to avoid the spray. In the same fluid motion, she snatched the water gun from the boy’s grasp, moving so quickly that neither he nor Benny could react in time.
The sheer speed and strength of her movements left the children gaping in stunned silence. Even Benny, though surprised at first, quickly composed himself. He straightened his clothes and, with a slight bow of his head, tipped his bowler hat to Zoe in a gesture of thanks.
The tall boy, now crestfallen without his water gun, stared at the ground, his earlier bravado completely drained. Benny, observing the child’s sulky demeanour, sighed inwardly. His bowler hat might seem anachronistic, but it gave him an air of dignity that demanded respect. He murmured under his breath, "It’s harder dealing with the young ones than the older ones."
While the children didn’t seem to catch his remark, Zoe, with her heightened senses, heard it clearly. Benny’s words carried a deeper truth. In the past, he had spent his time playing cards with the elderly residents of Wingsgone New Village, a community known for its older population. But today, he had found himself entertaining a group of rambunctious children on their winter holiday, a far cry from the calm and reasonable elderly folk he was used to.
Zoe handed the water gun back to the tall boy, her face stern. The boy, who had been about to challenge her again, suddenly felt a wave of fear under her piercing gaze and backed away, wiping the oil from the corner of his mouth. Without a word, he turned and left, and the other children followed suit.
As the garden grew quiet once more, Zoe sighed inwardly, contemplating how far she had come—and how far she still had to go.