Adaptive Consequences Read online

  Seeing her reaction, Dr Wei laughed. ‘Dr Xie, 95% of the team here didn’t know about it.’ The jury-heads nodded obediently. ‘We kept it as restricted as possible until we knew we were in a position to act.’

  She was supposed to be co-leading the study, but it was a farce, she wasn’t leading anything at all. ‘I’d like to discuss this separately with you please, Dr Wei.’ She knew the consequences and was happy to take them; she held his eye to prove her commitment.

  ‘We’ve acted within the Counsel’s framework so far, and the S-otomy is up for discussion. No decision has been made, yet. If we don’t agree as a team, we won’t go forward with it, but I hope,’ Dr Wei gave a stern look to the faces around the table, ‘that we do.’ He rose from his chair and gestured for Jun to sit down.

  She hesitated for a moment, but she knew she had pushed it as far as she dare.

  Dr Wei seemed satisfied. ‘There’s no time like the present. Those in favour of proceeding with a S-otomy raise your hand.’

  * * *

  Jun kicked her foot against the table in her office. The static symmetry of her room was usually a sanctuary. With everything in its place and arranged just so, it helped her to think objectively.

  A tapping sound from behind startled her, and she turned around to see Markov’s face slope towards the window. What did he want? She reluctantly waved her hand for him to come in.

  He stood awkwardly by the door frame, and she noticed that the angles and edges of his body had dullened. The punishing schedule had affected him too.

  ‘My grandfather used to say, if you’re afraid of wolves, don’t go into the woods. Have heart; you know what Wei is like.’

  Jun raised an eyebrow. Markov referring to Dr Wei by his surname was unlike him.

  It was too late for Markov to try and play like he was on the same side as her. ‘A S-otomy? It’s too soon, and you know it. And then Dr Wei saying he’ll extend the study? I’m tired of you going behind my back to advance your agenda. We’re supposed to be working together, but from the get-go, you’ve been leaving me out the loop,’ she said.

  ‘Come on, what am I supposed to do?’ he sighed. ‘Go against my superior’s orders? You know that’s professional suicide.’

  She inwardly sighed. They needed to play as a team, otherwise, they both lost. This was the second time – that she was aware of – that Markov had kept crucial information from her. ‘We need to have open dialogue. I don’t want you going behind my back again. Are we agreed?’

  Markov smirked. ‘Yes, sir! Besides, the S-otomy is still some way off yet as today’s vote of against shows, though I’m surprised. I didn’t realise so many of them had a backbone,’ he laughed. ‘We’ll need to wait for the results from the biopsies in any case.’ He looked to tempt a smile on her face with his own.

  If she could help it, she was determined not to work with him again after this. But sadly, most of the Doctors were cut from the same cloth, except for Delphine. Markov had wasted enough of her time already. ‘I’m going to see Zaye about the biopsy …’ Zaye would welcome the news like a hole in the head.

  Markov fumbled as he opened the door and seemed hesitant to leave her office. She pushed past him, locked it with her chip and dashed off. His long strides stretched after her.

  ‘I wanted to ask you,’ he stopped. ‘How do you think your file got corrupted?’ He moved closer to her.

  Jun took a step backwards and crossed her arms. ‘Why do you want to know?’ He didn’t get to double-cross her one minute then try and grill her for information the next.

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not the enemy, Dr Xie. I’m concerned. It’s not just your study, your Subject. Whatever you may think of me, we’ve got to work together.’

  ‘Give me a reason to trust you and my opinion might change,’ Jun said and stepped back again.

  He sighed and backed off. ‘The reason I ask is, Stefania…?’

  ‘Esposito. What about her?’ Jun’s voice clipped.

  ‘I’m just curious that’s all. Do you think we have another Esposito on our hands?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said and carried on walking. She thought about Esposito, and like the spores of a fungus, something unpleasant began to germinate.

  As they walked through to Zaye’s living quarters, Markov pulled Jun inside the observation room.

  ‘What are you playing at?’ she said, wrenching his hand off her. ‘Don’t ever touch me like that again!’ It whipped out her mouth so quickly that Markov needed a moment to decipher what she had said.

  His bulky frame swamped the small space. ‘Don’t think Zaye doesn’t have ulterior motives – she’s a clever woman. Not just clever, superior. You,’ he pointed his finger at her, ‘are already on Dr Wei’s radar. Don’t fuck up your career over-’

  ‘Who says I’m fffffffucking up my career?’ she said through gritted teeth.

  He loomed once again, the room shrunk around her. ‘This woman holds the secrets to the future of human development. If you’re that ignorant and naïve not to understand the consequences of every action, you’ve no place in this Department.’ His face edged closer to hers, and she felt his warm breath on her lips and the stale, musty tang of his sweat. She took a few steps backwards away from him towards the door. ‘You’ve been manipulated before, don’t let it happen again.’

  He looked through the glass at Odgerel who had been shuttled back post the departmental meeting. She was sitting on her bed, seemingly staring directly at them both, but it was impossible. Jun looked at Markov. It seemed to have spooked him too; his face had lost all its colour.

  He brushed past Jun to get to the door. ‘Just remember which side of the observation glass you belong, Doctor.’ He took one last look at Zaye before stalking out. The door slammed behind him.

  Jun threw her head back and took a deep lungful of air. Damn Markov, damn Odgerel and damn the United Adaptive.

  She stood up and turned around to face the observation glass again; Odgerel was still looking in her direction. Jun shivered.

  What good was one-way glass if the person you were watching, appeared to be watching you as well?

  CHAPTER 8

  7th May 2062

  ‘Good evening Ms Xie and Solongo Batkhuyag, a new guest to the Li home. Welcome.’

  Jun gave Solo a brief smile. The idea of Solo being a guest was a lie to which they were both complicit. Welcomed guests didn’t threaten their way into your home, but as Solo’s mother had tolerated the lab’s demands, she could be forgiven for making a few of her own. Solo’s eyes wandered around Jun and Fan’s home, as the two stood beside each other, static like Ai-ssistants.

  Qin had been busy preparing supper. Smells of peppery bok choy, citrus-spices and fresh ginger suffused the hall. Jun closed the kitchen door so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

  ‘Should I send the Intuimoto back to Mr Li’s office?’ The home-comp asked brightly.

  Jun flinched in anticipation of Fan coming home earlier than she expected. Him seeing them both, and her being forced to explain what she’d done. But he expected her to send the car back for him. Though it was a risk she was reluctant to take, there would be more at stake if she didn’t send it back.

  ‘Connecting to the Intuimoto’s Interface …co-ordinates set… estimated arrival time will be in nineteen minutes. There are no foreseeable delays. Would you like me to notify Mr Li when it arrives?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ She might have to send the car back, but she didn’t need to draw more attention than necessary.

  The house fell silent, and in the absence of any more distractions, there was no other choice than for Jun to focus on the relative stranger she’d brought into her home. But the home-comp had recognised Solo. Her presence had been recorded for better or worse. It struck Jun that Solo must still have her chips intact. Otherwise, it couldn’t have identified her. Solo must be more of a casual visitor to the Ghetto than she had previously thought. She remembered Kodi’s
warning when Jun had first arrived: “Solo and her husband are having problems….” What sort of double life was Solo living?

  Jun offered her a drink or something to eat, but Solo shrugged off both suggestions. It felt she like she was in a stalemate, but in reality, she’d lost either way. Jun moved towards the living room and her arm brushed against Solo’s. They both flinched. This was no good.

  ‘Come in, please,’ Jun said softly. ‘Sit.’ She picked up her Interface and sat herself down and waved for Solo to sit on the other couch.

  Solo’s eyes seemed to scan the room, measured and slow, taking everything in; probably wrapping a judgement around whatever she saw.

  It had been a while since Jun had any new faces in her home. Looking at herself and her things through Solo’s eyes felt like walking on fault lines, with unexpected shifts and slips underneath her. It was sentimental and silly really, keeping her favourite of Kau’s old swimming trophies on display. Was it a mother’s vanity to still have the ornamental duck out that he’d bought her as a child, but didn’t go with anything else in the room? She smoothed down the creases in her linen dress. ‘The décor is old-fashioned I know, it needs-’ Jun started.

  ‘It looks like a home,’ Solo said and took a deep breath as if drawing it in. ‘Is that your son?’ she pointed to some Pix on the wall beside her, which were spotlighted by the sun’s early evening glow. Looking at Kau’s face and without waiting for an answer, Solo sat down. ‘We didn’t have many family Pix in my home, and those we did have of my mother were surrounded by candles and lit every day. It was like a shrine,’ Solo said, in a tone that wouldn’t have been out of place in a research lab.

  Despite herself, Jun was nervous. She summoned her resolve to switch on the Interface and swiped the datacarry across the screen. Her stomach flipped as she opened the files, resurrecting her old routine and processes; it flipped again when Solo appeared over her shoulder.

  Jun inspected the screen laden with files, before clicking on one of the dossiers called ‘Dr. Markov analyses.’ Her breath caught in her throat as she opened one of the reports and scanned through it, reading each word was like a shot of oxygen. In a way, it felt like coming home. Reading the data, she remembered Odgerel Zaye’s exceptional Pre-Emptive Perception. They had been on the cusp of unlocking something extraordinary, but it had left them, Odgerel had left them, all too soon.

  Jun kept scrolling through the folders and saw a dossier named ‘Pavel.’ He wouldn’t have been involved with the observation, and certainly had nothing to do with Odgerel’s results. She opened it and saw it contained transferred motion and oral memories. She clicked on one of the motion memories and the player loaded the extract. She saw Markov running to the security gates, the very same ones where she had been earlier that afternoon. Some of the security team were checking him through, and then he continued in a rush. It looked like the point of view was from the eatzone.

  ‘I don’t understand?’ Solo said, shaking her head. ‘Where’s my mother?’

  ‘These are memories downloaded from Pavel… one of our security guards for the department,’ Jun said, distracted by the unexpectedness of what she’d found. It was strange for them to be in the folder. She saw no relevance to Odgerel’s study.

  Jun heard what sounded like a car pulling up outside; she froze. If Fan was home, she didn’t know what she’d say, or how Solo would react. Willing herself to look outside, she was thankful not to see their silvery Intuimoto – it must have been a neighbour returning home for the day. She skipped back to the screen and her heart skipped with it. There were files under her name, as well as ‘Delun’ and ‘Odgerel Health Chips.’ She clicked on Delun’s dossier. It was all memories in there – oral, motion and diagnostic ones. It didn’t feel right. They rarely collated memories as part of a Subject’s analyses, but then, she wasn’t sure what she had expected to see in the first place.

  ‘Click on ‘Odgerel Health Chips,’ ’ Solo said and pointed at the screen.

  Jun clicked on the dossier and saw a downloaded report, one diagnostic and one motion memory.

  ODGEREL_ZAYE_HEALTH_CHIP_DATA_REPORT_15.05.37.doc

  JUN_XIE_16.05.37_01.30AM.MM

  The motion memory was from Jun herself, but the timings were odd – pulled at 1.30am? She looked at the date – it was the night Odgerel died. She patted down her dress and brushed for a loose thread and locked it around her finger, winding it tighter till she felt her fingertip swell under the pressure. Something didn’t feel right.

  Her finger hovered over her motion memory, lingering for just a second before she opened it. As the motion memory jumped to life, she immediately wished that it hadn’t.

  CHAPTER 9

  7th May 2062

  The faint tang of whisky lingered underneath Kau’s nose. As subtly as possible, he nudged his hand to his mouth and checked his breath. He couldn’t smell anything, but it had to be him. After Celeste had left and before Anton had arrived, he’d stalked back to their table, and downed his Manhattan and Celeste’s drink in one swoop. Now his head felt light and fluid, like a buoy gently bobbing on water. Looking at Anton, who was as excitable as a puppy, he wasn’t sure if his floating mind was a help or a hindrance.

  Anton had arrived with a convoy of IntuimotoTrucks to collect him from The Ends, their bands of orange underscoring the landscape like dot-dashes. Elusiveness wasn’t Anton’s strong point. He blustered and gusted his way through everyone and everything. A few of the bar’s management came out as the ten-or-so trucks descended, chuntering down the access road, spitting sand and dirt as they went. The Ends wouldn’t see many convoys just passing through, and there wasn’t anything else for miles till you hit Omsk CMCD in the Sarato Province.

  The guitar stopped strumming and cocktails went untouched, and instead decorated hands like ornaments. Anton had called at him like a master to its dog. After he’d jumped in, and the convoy pulled away, Kau heard the music start up again; the swell of laughter and chatter and imagined the chinking of glasses. At least some people were still in the mood to celebrate.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Kau tried to muster some enthusiasm. He should feel encouraged that he was already a ‘go-to’ guy for Anton, but there was babbling in his head that sounded a lot like his mother, telling him he should have stayed with Celeste. It was all too late now.

  ‘If I gave you all the answers, how will you ever learn?’ Anton said, and a smug smile curled on his face. Anton’s security Ai-ssistant gave an absent-minded chuckle. Kau resented its pre-programmed validation. ‘Knowledge is power, remember?’

  There was only one reason that Anton would be this excited. He hoped it wasn’t true, but it had to be the Chirchirs. Chirchir, rather. There was only one of them now. ‘So, you’ve found Kodi?’

  Anton threw Kau a woman’s shoulder bag, which rattled as he caught it. Inside, there were things that a girl might have in her room. A stuffed toy, some trinkets and Pix.

  ‘I need you to get her to co-operate,’ Anton said, his face had lost its vigour; he wanted Kau to know he was serious.

  Kau’s stomach plummeted to his ankles. If it were anyone else, or the stakes were different, he’d have laughed them off. It was ridiculous to think Kodi would co-operate, after everything that had happened. Even if Anton and his team hadn’t killed her parents, whatever had happened in between when they had last spoken and now, it was unlikely she’d trust anyone, least of all him. With his ten-truck convoy whipping up the Earth to find one girl, it seemed impossible that Anton hadn’t been responsible for her parents’ death.

  ‘What happened to the Chirchirs? Was it anything to do with …us?’, you, he thought.

  ‘Target destination in two minutes’ the car’s Interface chimed.

  ‘You knew what you were letting yourself in for.’ Anton’s glare thundered like galloping horses.

  Kau’s mind tripped back to his initial conversation with Anton. It had only been six or seven weeks ago, but it felt like longer. It had been lik
e any other day at the Province Governance migration department. Slow. Meandering. More time spent clock-watching than doing. His work had been dwindling of late, the calendar of migrations had eked out, with just one left to oversee. It was his and the Province’s last, and the prep had already been done. He’d been working on it since he first joined the migration team, fresh out of University. That was over three years ago. But funding had been cut, and the deadline had been pushed back and back and back. It was only a matter of time before he was made redundant, but he had bigger hopes, superior ambitions. He’d been applying for migration roles in other Provinces – he had to go where the work was. But then he’d received a call from Anton’s Ai-ssistant. A car was sent for him, and an interview arranged inside the building that he’d only ever seen from the outside.

  ‘There’s an opportunity in my team for someone with your experience,’ Anton had said. His voice had echoed around his office. He’d seemed like a God, behind his walnut desk, thick with carvings of people labouring and worshipping, the likes of which was alien to Anton, Kau was sure. His larger than life telescope behind him; his numerous accolades and distinctions on the wall. Anton’s office had been big, but it felt lived in. Worked hard and played hard, but always had a good time. Kau hadn’t ever been to his father’s UA office to compare, but he imagined it was organised like at home; self-contained to Anton’s larger than life.

  ‘We’re working on a project that mitigates the effects of climate change on humanity in the most fundamental way. Hundreds of men and women would kill to be in your position… but we don’t want them.’ Anton leaned back in his chair, ‘We want you.’

  At the time Kau had been bowled over. Love-bombed. The thought that someone like Anton wanted him, him, for this role, well, it was everything he’d striven for. He was ready for it. This is what he’d been working towards.

  ‘Your colleagues speak highly of you, and after all, you are Fan Li’s son. Your father and I have a lot of history, but that’s not why I called, though he and I agree this would be a great opportunity for you.’