Adaptive Consequences Page 8

  Fan finished his call. Replacing his phone in his pocket, his hand found hers and gave it an apologetic squeeze.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said.

  ‘They’re arranging a regroup session on a project I’m leading.’

  Jun couldn’t be bothered to explain that she was referring to them walking down a mysterious corridor.

  They finally came to a single door, and Fan gave a bashful smile. As he went to open it, Jun realised where they were.

  He stood aside for her to walk through the door. The beauty in his beast – the crystal formations.

  ‘Oh, Fan!’ She brought him to her and swung her arms around his neck. He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her, gently sucking her lips, so the blood underneath tingled, just how she liked.

  ‘Happy anniversary,’ he whispered in her ear.

  She had completely forgotten to chase up the holiday sanction. Between Odgerel and the PSAs, it had slipped her mind. ‘I,’ she started to explain, but Fan smiled, and she knew she didn’t need to carry on.

  The room, though no bigger than their lounge at home, was like a crystalline rainbow, filled with lavenders, blushes, ice-whites and Oz-greens. Jun’s eyes feasted on violet, pointed clusters like interwoven fingers, and powdery-white geometric bubbles.

  She walked to her favourite, a sea-urchin of emerald greens, sitting on a milky-crystal bed.

  ‘Beautiful,’ she said.

  Fan’s hand went to reach for something, just as his work phone sounded again.

  It was a surprise then, what he said next, with his phone buzzing in his pocket as he fiddled to pick something from out of the crystal.

  ‘Jun, will you marry me?’

  CHAPTER 6

  7th May 2062

  A familiar song came on the Intuimoto sound-system. Jun hummed along distractedly, the staccato beat gliding to a crescendo as she arrived at her old department base. A slight breeze whistled through the woodland’s trees; their leaves seemed to wave at her in cheerful reception. The Nian beast of a building, however, stood firmly rooted. In Chinese mythology, the Nian lived in the mountains and came out of its hiding place once every year to feed, mostly on men and animals. That was how she thought of the United Adaptive buildings, a group of Nian beasts, lurking to be fed. Jun would receive no warm welcomes from them. But like finding an old dress and wondering if it still fits, she was curious to try it on. But there was no privacy of a changing room. Digital arms would scan her chips and car, recording every moment. Technically, she wouldn’t be going inside the building. Who was to say she was doing anything wrong? But like their anti-PSA group partnering with Mikhail all those years ago, her presence was a sign of intent.

  She and Fan had left the renegade eyes and dissenting smiles at the Ghetto. She had been naive to go there. That was so obvious now. She had spent most of the journey back trying to write Solo a mail, to say all the things she hadn’t managed to, or that had come out wrong. She’d arched the phone screen away from Fan and tried to write something heartfelt, but she kept getting stuck on ‘I’m sorry.’ She had always been much better with analyses and evaluations.

  Fan crossed his arms and legs tight like a pretzel. ‘Draw a line under it. It’s for the best,’ he’d said.

  But she couldn’t draw a line under it. There had been a time when the only thing she had drawn a line under was anomalistic data and results. She’d looked out of the Intuimoto’s window, and in the distance could just about make out the apexes of the mountains, skimming like stones across the Baikal-blue of the sky. As they sprinted through the flat stretch of mustard grass, a crow swooped across their path, a bullet-of-hematite, and pierced the ground snapping – a beetle? – with its beak. It darted off. She’d made up her mind then – she would need to go back to the lab and look through her old files to remind herself about the Odgerel Zaye study. Something rushed inside of her. It felt like waves breaking, and she relished each one as they frothed and bubbled as lies out of her mouth. She casually said she needed to pick up something from the University; Fan had seemed content enough. He’d asked her to drop him off at work too, though it was a Saturday. She marvelled at how easy it had been to lie, a proper lie, to him. She’d mailed Delphine to ask her to look for Odgerel’s observation notes, saying that as Solo had been in touch, she wanted to review them again.

  As they journeyed, Jun told Fan about the girl, Kodi, who’d helped her and turned out to be braver and stronger at sixteen than she herself would be at sixty. Jun wished she could have done more to help. Perhaps she could come back and check on Kodi. Maybe Solo would be willing to see her again too, when she’d calmed down, and depending on what information she could find today.

  Delphine had suggested to meet her by security in a few minutes’ time, in the eatzone. Three Ai-ssistant guards stood to attention at the security desk, their artificial smiles hard wired and hard stuck. Their skynthetic and look were more elegant and sophisticated than they used to be.

  From a distance, the tableau was like when Pav and the team watched over them, when the department’s preference was the conscious human mind over the detached and literal. They sat behind pristine white desks, disrupted by a band of the UA’s signature orange, another new development. The Jun who came to this building every day felt like a lifetime ago. Memories jostled within her, a dance between sentimental nostalgia and a sharp repulsion.

  A sting rose in the back of her throat. The dress didn’t fit her anymore.

  Delphine rushed out from security and dove towards her. There was that smile, the same unassuming smile when unassuming had been Delphine’s method of survival. Now, it looked worn and weathered; there was a tiredness behind the eyes, which Jun recognised only too well. Delphine draped her arms around her and gave a warm squeeze, prompting Jun’s deluge of questions – when had Delphine become Head of Department, and when had Dr Wei, retired? Markov surely would have been his natural successor, but Delphine deserved it so much more.

  For all her smiles, Delphine remained tight-lipped and guided Jun back towards the exit. Her head bobbed and darted around like a bird plunging back to its nest. ‘I would love to be able to talk properly,’ Delphine dropped her voice and cradled her face closer to Jun’s. ‘And we shall, but not now. I’m afraid there have been a few…peculiarities,’ she pressed them both out towards the door. ‘I wasn’t able to get you the files from the archives that you asked for.’

  Jun’s excitement at her bold spontaneity had been in vain, and she hadn’t expected their reunion to be so short and perfunctory. A weighty ache began in her chest and climbed to her neck. Her face must have betrayed her disappointment.

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. Literally within the last hour, we had a UA task force commandeer the lab for a special project – they wouldn’t tell me any details. They’d made mention of the potential need a few weeks ago – absolutely nothing since – and then suddenly, twenty of them just descended. You can imagine the chaos.’ Delphine looked at the guard Ai-ssistants, who were staring at them. Likely the digital cameras were focused in their direction too. Every movement would be captured; every word recorded and woven into a narrative. Jun shifted uncomfortably.

  Delphine spoke barely louder than a whisper. ‘It wouldn’t usually be a problem you being here, but security has heightened. We can’t log on to our hyperframe without a specific security clearance. I’m HoD for goodness sakes!’

  Jun shuddered; whatever level of security went beyond the Head of Department’s jurisdiction, it couldn’t be anything good.

  ‘But don’t worry, I bought those old datacarry files you asked me to keep, so hopefully, you’ll have what you need on there,’ she whispered.

  Jun had asked for the observation notes from the archive, what did she mean, datacarry files?

  ‘I assumed you wanted those as well? The ones you left in a capsule in my locker, just before you left?’ Delphine’s puzzled face softened realising that Jun obviously didn’t remember. ‘I’ve kept them a
ll this time… especially with what happened with Subject Zaye. It felt like the honourable thing to do. It has your ID number, see?’ Delphine discreetly passed Jun the drawing-pin shaped datacarry. Sure enough, its thumbprint-sized head was inscribed with Jun’s old number. Only she was able to access the files on here.

  Jun struggled to take it all in. She couldn’t remember giving any files to Delphine, but at least she had some relevant information; it hadn’t been a wasted journey, after all. ‘It was a long time ago, and my memory’s not what it used to be. Thank you for keeping the files,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll take these and stop distracting you.’

  Delphine arched her neck to check if anyone could hear them. ‘Why didn’t you come back, Jun? After you gave birth to Kau…even to say hello?’ Her tired eyes glassed over; tears sprung, turning the brown in her irises, to hazel. ‘I missed you. Dr Wei said we weren’t to contact you and that you were too upset with what happened with Zaye…that you blamed yourself…’

  Jun’s stomach twisted like hands wringing; a heat flushed across her face. It was like earlier with Solo, when she couldn’t articulate her words. The feelings were there; the concepts were not.

  ‘Which was ridiculous,’ Delphine said. ‘The Neurological Counsel concluded that, “Zaye’s capabilities manifested into imbalances that had the propensity to…’ Delphine seemed to look for the most appropriate words. ‘Support suicidal tendencies”.’

  Everything had been such a blur. Odgerel’s death, her and Fan’s wedding, falling pregnant with Kau. It was like she had been sleepwalking. A light breeze sighed between them and carried away the last of Jun’s energy. Perhaps she’d never really woken up.

  ‘After that,’ Delphine carried on. ‘Dr. Wei was invited to work for another department in the UA – the Adaptive Strategies team – dedicated to human evolution through all the scientific disciplines. Partnering Microbiology, Neurology, Geology, Meteorology, Astronomy and such. He took Dr Markov with him and Dr Yeung too – they all still work there if you can believe it.’

  Jun could, the toxic trio that couldn’t be parted.

  ‘It’s the Adaptive Strategies team that commandeered the lab today. They have the same arrogant approach as their Dr Wei, and he still blusters on, though I don’t know how he has the energy.’

  ‘The sheer will of vitriol…’

  Delphine laughed. ‘My Department ultimately ladders up to them, but we still answer to the Counsel. I’ve found myself being more two-faced to get by, more than…’ her shoulders sunk like she was carrying the weight of the lab on them. ‘Seeing you, Jun, it reminds me that such a great deal has happened. Please, let’s not leave it so long. I’d love to see you again. Soon. Talk properly,’ she whispered.

  They said their goodbyes and as Delphine walked away, Jun felt awkward and out of place without her. She looked at the doors. The last time Jun walked through them was when she’d got the call about Odgerel. It was the middle of the night, Fan had woken her, and she came to the lab to talk to the Police. It had felt like she was sleepwalking then; less of a daze, more of a nightmare.

  Jun walked back to the car. The spontaneous energy of earlier had seeped away. She thumbed the datacarry. Would there be anything useful that could help explain Odgerel’s motives?

  Since Solo had contacted her, a mist of fear and the forgotten had slowly circled her, feeding off her thoughts and feelings. It spread and thickened, drawing the ghosts and spirits of the past, whether she’d wanted them or not. Now, it was unstoppable; gaining density and mass, blood and bone.

  Jun opened the Intuimoto door, and felt a tap on her shoulder, and jumped. She turned around, expecting to see a smiling Delphine, perhaps with the files after all. Instead, there was Solo and a glare that made Jun shiver even in the heat.

  ‘I followed you from Ghetto,’ Solo shouted, her mouth tensed, baring her teeth as if ready to attack. ‘I wondered if you’d come here to warn them…and you did. You’re a liar!’

  Jun showed Solo the datacarry. ‘I spoke to an old colleague who brought me these files from your mother’s observation. I wondered if rereading them might…shed some new light. That’s all,’ she sighed, too tired for Solo’s vehemence.

  ‘If you’re looking at the files, I want to see them too.’

  Solo’s determination said she wasn’t backing down. Jun had witnessed the extremes that Solo was willing to go to be heard. Though she didn’t like the idea of it, it didn’t look like she had much choice.

  The ghosts and spirits were ready to talk. Now Jun needed to prepare herself to listen.

  CHAPTER 7

  15th September 2037 – Week 2 (day 14) of the study

  It was the second Sunday they’d worked in as many weeks. Usually, Sundays were for relaxing, the stress of the week shaken off, perhaps the foreshadow of the next already creeping in. Jun knew how the faces around the table would be as she walked into the departmental meeting. Eyes would be hollowed like the undersides of mushrooms, and skin patchier than a dozen colour swatches. Fourteen consecutive days of work would have depleted their cells and diminished their concentration. But their ears would prick up when she and Markov went through their evaluations.

  Jun walked into the conference chamber. Its positioning meant you could directly see the central lab, the heart of the department, thanks to the one-way glass. Now she was standing in its nervous system.

  Dr Wei and Markov were huddled together, their reflex response of late. Dr Yeung walked over to join them, but Markov shook his head and Yeung, affronted, backed away. The rest of the room was portioned into similar pockets of people. Yeung joined Krupin doubled around a phone; a few others kept to themselves, laconically typing as if the world depended on it. Delphine seemed to be going through some data with Jiazhen but smiled in Jun’s direction.

  Looking through the one-way glass to the central lab, Jun saw Zaye sat on a stool, her legs swinging where they didn’t quite reach the rung. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes boring into the glass. Delun stood by her side like a Terracotta warrior.

  ‘What’s going on with Zaye?’ Jun said, louder than she’d intended. All the eyes in the room fell on her.

  ‘Being efficient with time,’ Dr Wei said, pulling his chair out to sit down. ‘If we need to take some immediate readings.’

  Markov sat next to him, a dog at the heels of his master.

  ‘And if we don’t, Zaye just sits there like a fish in a bowl?’

  ‘The fish doesn’t know we’re looking,’ Yeung said to Dr Wei and pulled a sly smile.

  ‘Of course not. The woman with the most evolved Pre-Emptive Perception hasn’t got a clue why she’s sitting there,’ Jun said and walked to the front in preparation for her and Markov’s presentation. Yeung’s eyes stalked every step.

  Dr Wei spun a piece of liquorice root between his fingers, before bringing it to his lips and clamping his teeth around it. ‘We’re all very keen to hear your results,’ he said, the root debilitating his enunciation. ‘But let’s not make it longer than we have to.’

  Jun and Markov presented their evaluation, though they very nearly didn’t. As Jun had tried to open the file on her digiscribe, it had read that the file had been corrupted. There was only one way she knew how a file corrupted itself – if someone tried to access it and failed the password twice. How had it been possible? That was the worry’s first point of entry, biting into her nerves with abandon; as the meeting carried on, the bites got bigger.

  They all agreed the next priorities around Zaye’s diagnosis were to understand the practical application and time parameters around the Pre-Emptive Perception. Jun wanted to adjust the observation timings to ensure Zaye was comfortable and maintained responsivity; Dr Wei preferred to maximise the opportunities. After sparring back and forth, Jun was forced to hold her tongue. Dr Wei was in an argumentative mood, and there was usually only one winner. There was to be a biopsy tomorrow. Jun was to tell Zaye. She was to lead, and there was no more to be said about it.
>
  Jun’s eyes wandered to Zaye. Her grit of earlier had eroded to dust. Her legs no longer swung, one toothpick-thin limb folded over the other, her usually rich cocoa-skin, sallow.

  ‘While the results seem to be going in the right direction,’ Dr Wei cleared his throat, ‘I’d like us to do a Synapticotomy. See her brain responding in real-time to the P-EP challenges.’

  Jun’s consciousness snapped back. Did he want to do a S-otomy? Jun looked at Markov in disbelief, but it didn’t seem to surprise him. Yeung gave an odious smile. Delphine caught Jun’s eye. She was equally as shocked as Jun. A few of the other doctors tut-tutted between themselves. Even Krupin looked surprised; she was usually unflappable.

  To do a S-otomy from a live subject was risky. The team was still assessing Zaye’s cellular heterogeneity. It was far too advanced a procedure. ‘We don’t know how Zaye’s neural tissue will react at this early stage,’ Jun interrupted.

  Markov shot her a warning look.

  Dr Wei played with the liquorice root between his fingers, before tapping it on the table like a judge. ‘We need to extract as much information as possible while the Subject’s here.’

  Jun jumped up from her chair. ‘We need to make a case to the Counsel first, and that could take months.’

  Dr Wei gave her a look which said shut the fuck up, but instead, he replied, ‘careful of your tone. I already have their approval, pending the full backing of our department, but I’ll extend the study for as long we need to!’

  Jun leant forward appealing to judge and jury. ‘You can’t do that – she hasn’t agreed to it. Her family hasn’t agreed to it!’

  Dr Wei stamped his root down on the table. ‘I won’t warn you about your behaviour again. Besides, it was included in the waiver she signed.’

  Jun shook her head. She had taken Zaye through the waivers herself; a S-otomy hadn’t been included.

  ‘I took her through an updated version,’ Markov said quietly. He’d gone behind her back again.