Текст книги "Accidental Creatures"
Автор книги: Anne Harris
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“No thanks,” said Helix. Orielle offered an ampule to Hyper, but he refused under Chango’s insistent glare. Orielle turned to Chango.
“No thanks,” she said.
“Ah that’s right, you’re the little pothead who doesn’t do drugs.”
Chango scowled, “What’s a little reefer? It’s mixed with tobacco anyway.”
“Oh and tobacco isn’t a drug?”
“No, and neither is pot in my opinion, they’re plants. The stuff you sell, it’s all synthesized chemicals. Man made substances the human body was never designed to handle.”
Orielle chuckled softly, “Whatever. Anyway, I haven’t seen your friend Benny here tonight. Tell him I’ve come into a quantity of blast in liquid form. If he’s interested I can give him a good price.”
Chango wrinkled her nose. “What would Benny want with liquid? He’s not a shooter.”
“Of course not. Some people like to make their own blends. He was into it a few years ago, so maybe he’d be interested now.”
“Maybe,” said Chango, “but I’m not doing your pushing for you. You want to sell him something, you talk to him.”
“She’s quite cantankerous, isn’t she?” Orielle said to Helix. “Is she taking good care of you?”
“Oh yeah,” said Helix, “She licks my teeth.”
For a moment, silence reigned, and then Orielle's face split apart, shattered and dissolved and reformed itself into laughter. Her voice pitched through the bar in earsplitting peals, and the crowd, perhaps in self-defense, raised their voices in whoops and shouts. She looked at Helix closely. “They say you are the strangest sport since I came along,” she said. “Some even have the umbrage to say you are stranger than I am. But-” she smiled a broad thin smile, like a crack in a windowpane “-I think they may be right. What ever shall I do?" She shook her head sadly.
"Why do you want to be the strangest?" asked Helix.
"Well, I must be something, mustn't I? Especially since I won't be anything for terribly long."
"It seems to me you're pretty accomplished without the goofy chromosomes," Helix said, nodding at the broken ampule laying on the table.
"Yes, but without the chromosomes, without the strangeness, I never would have had the initiative to do any of it. It wouldn't have mattered. Oh, how I pity those unfortunate creatures whose differences are invisible, and no less deadly,” she nodded at Hyper.
"You say creatures..."
"It is a more noble term than sport. Sport, as if we were someone else's amusement."
"Maybe we are," said Chango.
"Maybe some of us are," said Orielle with a pointed look. "I know I’m not. A creature is its own being. It exists on its own terms. Others may attempt to enslave it, but it will always thwart control. Haven't you seen the movies?"
Chango stood up. Helix glanced at her, and then at Orielle. “I guess we’re going to go now,” she said.
“Very well. It was nice to meet you. Just remember, Helix,” she leaned forward, her red eyes staring. “If you’re going to be a freak, you might as well be a freak show.”
oOo
Back at the bar Chango sipped at her beer, sullenly watching the conclusion of a transaction at Orielle’s table. Vonda stood up and walked towards the bar, staring at Helix. She walked right up to them, ignoring Chango as usual. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” she said to Helix, “so I’m going to tell you. Sports have no business vatdiving, and if you try it, you’re going to find that out.”
Chango felt as if someone had poured ice water over her. “What are you talking about, Vonda?”
Vonda glanced at her. “You don’t know?” She nodded her head at Helix. “She went in and took a physical today, and filled out an application.”
“What? That’s bullshit.” She turned to Helix, “You didn’t.”
Helix looked at her levelly, not smiling, not protesting. She spoke with a calm that reached into Chango and twisted her stomach. “I did. I need a job.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” said Vonda. “I’ve heard all about you. You don’t need a job. Your daddy works at the big office. He can get you a job. A better one than this, believe me. What are you doing down here anyway? Slumming? Go back where you belong.”
“You don’t know where I belong,” said Helix.
“Helix, you can’t dive,” said Chango choking on the words.
“Yes I can, and I will. Watch me.”
“I can’t believe this. We talked about it.” Chango took Helix’s upper hands in hers. “I told you how bad diving would be for you.”
“I know. I know you did, but-”
“But what then? Listen, don’t worry, if they accept your application, just tell them you changed your mind.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
Chango released her hands, staring at her. “Why?” she asked, because it was the only thing she could think to say.
“Because I haven’t changed my mind.”
“You’re going to wish you had,” said Vonda.
“She’s right,” said Chango.
Helix turned from her to Vonda, an odd impassive expression on her face. She looked at them both the same way, like obstacles. “You can say what you want,” said Helix, “but if they want to hire me, I’m taking the job.”
“Okay,” said Vonda. “Okay, but you’ve been warned. Remember that.”
“You can’t stop me from working.” Sudden anger glinted in her eyes.
“No,” said Vonda, stepping closer, “but we can make it hard for you, and we will.”
“Vonda. Vonda don’t worry. She won’t dive,” said Chango, moving to stand beside Helix. Helix turned to her, and put both sets of hands on her shoulders. “Chango, I know you mean well, but this isn’t any of your business.”
“What?”
“Well it’s my business,” said Vonda, “The only business I and the other vatdivers have. And you working means one less job for somebody who needs one, who can really do it. You know they’ll pay you less, and classify you as temporary so they can get out of giving you health benefits. You’re just playing along with them. You’re helping them lower hiring standards. It’s a dangerous job, we depend on each other in there.”
Helix leaned towards her. “Then you’re going to have to depend on me.”
Vonda bared her teeth and stiff armed Helix in the chest. “I’m not depending on you. Not only are you a freak, you’re insane.”
“What she is,” said a voice made of crystal and rain, “is none of your fucking business, you little goon. All you need to know is that she is a far more fabulous creature than you could ever hope to be, even on your deathbed. Now why don’t you go croak off.” It was Orielle. She had materialized beside Helix as if made of vapor.
Vonda looked sullen now, instead of enraged. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Why? Because you say so? What if I decide it does? What then? Would you like to shove me, too?
Why don’t you just throw a punch? Go ahead, shatter my jaw.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Orielle.”
“No, I didn’t think so,” her mouth pointed in a wicked smile, and she turned to Helix and Chango and Hyper, encompassing them with a sweep of her gauze draped arm. “Shall we, children?” and she guided them through the slowly parting crowd of onlookers.
Outside the bar, Chango turned on Helix. “Vonda’s right, you are insane,” she said.
“Chango-” Helix touched her cheek, her hand was cool. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you I was applying. You would have tried to stop me.”
“Damn straight I would have. Forget all that crap Vonda laid on you. The reason you shouldn’t dive is because it will kill you.”
Helix shook her head. “I just don’t believe that.”
Chango looked up at the sky and laughed, “No, that’s right. I’m just making it all up!”
“Maybe she’ll be okay,” said Hyper.
Chango stared at him. “What? Are you nuts too?”
Hyper shrugged. “It’s her life, you know.”
She nodded. “Yeah, yeah.” She stared at Helix, and there were tears in her eyes. “I guess I’m the fool here. I thought maybe you had something to live for,” she said, and walked away. oOo
They sprawled on blankets and cushions around the artifact: Orielle's 36" television set with laser disk drive.
"These old laser disks are much better in their original format. I can't even stand to watch the holographic ones. The framing is all wrong." she said, sliding a well-preserved disk into the slot with nimble fingers. Helix gnawed at her lower lip with one of her fangs. She'd lived a goodly portion of her life in modest affluence, with pretty close to the latest in entertainment technology, but this, this was evidence of a different type of wealth altogether. A rare and highly specialized piece of equipment. Extremely expensive and of no practical use whatsoever. Just to find disks in playable condition would cost a small fortune. It was a remarkable achievement, this television set, a monument to disposable cash. Orielle folded herself onto a cushion and reached beneath the coffee table for a lacquered box. It was glossy and black, inlaid with mother of pearl in abstract geometric shapes. She drew from it a glittering chrome blast pistol, its fittings and chamber rendered in curving lines like ripples of water. She fitted a white, ceramic capsule into the chamber and twisted it shut. “Would you like to go first?” she asked Helix, the gun resting in her outstretched palm like a pool of liquid metal. Helix hesitated, and then lifted the thing in her lower left hand, cradled it, and slipped her index finger through the trigger guard. She opened her mouth and rested the muzzle gently against the roof of her mouth, squeezed the trigger and jerked her head back at the cold burst of gas against the roof of her mouth.
“Inhale,” said Hyper, but Helix gagged against the rush of pressure released gas, and coughed. In defeat she withdrew the pistol and wiped it on her sleeve. “Sorry,” she said, handing it back to Orielle. She felt a mild tingle at the base of her skull, nothing more.
“You have to be ready for it,” said Orielle. “Here, watch.” She replaced the spent cartridge with a new one and drew the barrel into her mouth. She exhaled deeply, and then pulled the trigger, breathing in at the same time. Her eyes closed momentarily and then she put another fresh cartridge into the pistol with automatic motions. When she handed it to Helix, her eyes were glistening and unfocused. “Now try it again,” she whispered.
Helix held the pistol in her hand. “What does it feel like?” she asked. Orielle smiled and her eyes closed again, “Only one way to find out.”
This time when Helix squeezed the trigger she breathed in, and felt her sinuses flooded with icy gas. It made her eyes water, and she shook her head, and then shivered as the tingling at the base of her skull spread up and out, across her face and over her skin to the tips of her fingers and toes. She felt like a glass of water vibrating with the frequency of some distant chime. She saw a temple, gleaming white on a distant, sunlit mountaintop. Below, in the valley, a river flowed by. When her eyes refocused, she was left with a lightness in her body. The chime still vibrated in her cells, thinning her physical form, turning her more into sound than flesh. Hyper was taking the cartridge into his mouth. She watched him release the gas and lean back, eyes closed.
His skin looked very fine and bright. She leaned closer, because she thought she could see gold in the hollows of his cheeks. Her face was inches from his when he opened his eyes – glittering with the reflection of the river. She could feel the sound emanating from his body, to ring against hers, and she leaned closer to sharpen the pitch, to touch his vibrating skin and tune her cells to his. oOo
Chango climbed the steps to Hyper’s house in the bright morning sunshine and let herself in the front door. She knew right away the house was empty. If Hyper’d been home he’d be moving around somewhere, and if Hyper wasn’t home, Helix wouldn’t be here either. They’d spent the night then, at Orielle’s. Chango shook her head to try and rid herself of a headache. She’d gone to sleep on Mavi’s couch last night with a hard lump of anger in her stomach. It had climbed into her head while she slept. It was like a ball bearing rattling around in there, and every time it bounced off her skull, she thought of another angry, hurtful thing to say. She pulled one of Hyper’s bench stools into the archway, sat down, and waited.
They came up the stairs together, and as soon as she saw them, she knew they’d made love to each other. She’d been all ready to read Helix the riot act about diving, but this distracted her. It was an easier thing to be mad about than Helix’s inexplicable death wish. If there was anything she’d learned from Pele, it was how to throw a jealous fit.
“You slept together,” she said, as they stood in the doorway, staring at her owlishly. “My girl and my best friend.”
“You’re girl? Good gods!” exclaimed Hyper.
“Well, it was too late to leave,” said Helix.
“No, I mean you had sex.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah we did,” said Helix. “It was different than with you. What’s the matter?”
“Was it better?”
“What?”
“Chango please,” said Hyper.
She ignored him. “Was it better, Helix? Do you like him better?”
“I like both of you.”
Hyper spread his hands, “Can’t argue with that, can you? Don’t tell me Miss Free Love Michigan is going to claim ownership of her lover’s body.”
Chango put her face in her hands. “I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.”
“The shoe hurts when it’s on the other foot, doesn’t it?” said Hyper. “But that’s not really what you’re upset about. I mean maybe you are, but what’s really bugging you is that Helix is going to be a vatdiver.”
“I can’t believe you support her in this. Don’t you care if she dies?”
“Of course I care,” Hyper approached her, and put his hand on her arm. “But let me show you something-”
“No!” Chango recoiled and jumped off the stool. She started gathering her clothes from the front room, stuffing them heedlessly in her back pack. “I don’t want any more explanations.” She turned to Helix.
“You’re going to dive in the vats and you’re going to die.” She looked at Hyper, “And you’re helping her. Well, I’m not going to stick around and watch it happen. I’m out of here,” she said, and she left, banging the screen door shut behind her.
oOo
Helix arrived at the gates to the vat yard at a quarter to eight the next morning. About twenty vatdivers congregated on the street in loose clusters, talking amongst themselves. A tall, broad shouldered woman looked up as she approached the gate, and muttered something to her companions. They all darted glances at her, their conversation becoming more animated. "Must be crazy," Helix overheard as she passed, and "What makes her think she has the right?" She quickened her pace, entering the vat yard and searching among the domed vat houses for one labeled nine. Before long a security guard spotted her and ambled up. "Employees only, ma'am," he said.
"I am," she said, "that is, I will be. I'm here for orientation, Vat 9." He looked at her dubiously, "What's your name?"
"Helix Martin," she told him.
He switched on his transceiver, scanned through a list of names, and found hers. "Okay," he shrugged,
"It's the one over there, second from the end," he pointed to the opposite end of the yard.
"Thanks," she said, and made her way across the cloncrete towards it. Inside, the vat house was astir with end of shift activity. Divers filed towards the detox shower, a pair of porters went by, lugging a plasmic barrel marked "Grow Med. Batch 1234-9896," a supervisor shouted instructions to a team in he vat, her voice ringing clear above the general din and murmur of voices bouncing off the polished cloncrete floor and the glass dome above. It was bright inside, lit by halogens and the morning sky. A balcony ran along the second story, with catwalks connecting to the upper rim of the vat which filled most of the room.
An ample woman in white coveralls approached her, glancing at a clipboard. A badge above her left breast said April. "Helix Martin?" she eyed her impassively.
"Yes."
She nodded. "You're early. Come on, there's some forms for you to fill out." Helix followed her to a small office on the ground floor, where a stoop-shouldered, smiling clerk handed her waivers and contractual agreements and tax forms, and she signed them. When she was done, April took her to the locker room. It seemed a vast sea of tile and steam, with rows upon rows of lockers, and divers in all stages of undress. April took her down one long aisle, a narrow bench running its length down the middle, to a locker at the far end, near the wall. "This is yours, number 302," she said and opened it. "Take off your coat, I have to measure you for a suit." A small throng of divers hung out at the other end of the aisle with an expectant air. She glanced at April, who stared back with patient indifference. She swallowed and reached for the buttons of Hector's overcoat with trembling fingers. She adjusted her position to put as much of April between herself and the divers as possible, and slowly, with economical gestures, she unbuttoned her coat.
"Na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na," someone sang the tune to The Stripper, and someone else hooted, and there was general laughter among the audience. Helix's face burned, and she stood there, her coat hanging open, her hair standing on end, sweat breaking out under her armpits and she glared at April, who pretended not to have heard anything.
"Well," she said, "C'mon, you can't dive unless you've got the gear." There was silence as Helix removed the coat and hung it up in the locker. She turned back to face April and the divers again, her limbs revealed in the polyweave bodysuit and tunic she wore. April pursed her lips and whistled softly. "I don't know," she said, loudly, turning to one side so everyone could get a good view. "I don't know if we have a suit that'll fit you," she cast a winking, sidelong glance at the divers, who snickered. "Follow me, we'll have to see what we can do."
The vatdivers dispersed as they approached, wandering off in muttering clusters to the showers or their own lockers. April led her out of the locker room, back onto the vatfloor, and then to a room crowded with suits and tanks and face masks. With a sigh she began taking suits off the rack and holding them up to Helix, squinting and frowning. "They're supposed to be skin tight, but you're gonna have to take a larger size." She nodded her head, gazing at Helix's lower arms, "You'll have to keep them inside. Less'n you want to forfeit your first five paychecks for a custom job, that is," she added with a smirk. "and I'd recommend against it, seeing as how you may not live that long. Might as well spend the pay while you can."
Helix stared at her. April stared back, with blank, implacable hatred. "What do you care?" she asked, finally.
April shrugged, "Only that you're a damn fool on a suicide stunt, that you're liable to endanger my divers, and that you're keeping this job from someone who deserves it. I guess they're looking for cheap labor. They want to see how long you last, see? If it's long enough, and they can convince more of you to sign waivers on medical coverage and future compensation, why then, they've got fresh, cheap, labor to replace the rest of us with.”
Helix nodded with sudden comprehension, "You think I'm a scab." April snorted, "Shit yeah. Ain't yah?"
She shrugged. "If I am, I don't mean to be. But I am going to dive. And you are going to show me how. Besides, if all of what you say is true, then I'll croak in a month and I'll be out of your hair. Right?" April raised an eyebrow and a slow, sly smile slid across her mouth. She voiced a single crack of laughter, and shoved a suit at Helix, "Try it on, smart ass." By the end of her shift Helix felt as if her suit had fused to her body, and her lower arms were painfully cramped. She trudged wearily to the locker room, found her locker and sank onto the bench. She unfastened the seals of her suit and extricated her aching arms. Propping her upper elbows on her knees, she let her lower arms dangle between her legs, her fingertips grazing the tile floor. They tingled with pins and needles, the pain increasing sharply as blood rushed in and circulation resumed. Helix was blinking back tears when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see four vatdivers sauntering down the aisle towards her. “So how was your first day, sport?” said Vonda, a narrow, sarcastic smile across her face. She threw one leg over the bench and sat down, the others ranged themselves behind her, leaning against the lockers and smirking at one other.
“It was alright,” said Helix, sitting up and reaching for her clothes.
“Yeah? Is it everything you dreamed it would be?” said one of the others, a man with brown skin and dark hair curling on his chest.
“I hope so,” said Coral, still in her divesuit, the hood pulled down to reveal her straight dark hair.
“‘Cause it’s going to cost her plenty.”
“Mmm-hmm. What would you give her, Vonda? Six months?” asked the fourth one, a fair-skinned guy with a broad face and blue eyes.
“Oh, if that long,” answered Vonda. Her eyes took in Helix's body with ravenous curiosity, “With a mutation like that, I’d say four months, tops.”
Helix fumbled for her bodysuit. She got the limp thing in her hands, only to realize that she still wore her dive suit over her legs, and she'd have to get completely undressed in order to get dressed, and she'd have to do that, apparently, with an audience. She clutched the body suit to her breasts and turned around, brandishing her lower arms. "Look," she said, "Get a good look, all of you, because next time, it won’t be a free show."
They glanced amongst each other, and giggled. “‘Fraid not, honey,” said the fair skinned man. “You’re on our dive team. We’re all going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
“If you stick around, that is,” added Coral.
“And I’d advise strongly against it,” said Vonda, standing and putting one hand on Helix’s shoulder, pushing her, gently but firmly into the locker behind her, “Because we don’t want you here, and we can make you not want to be here too.”
Helix stared into her hazel eyes and then laughed. “Fuck off.”
Vonda’s eyes flashed, and she tried to punch Helix in the stomach, but Helix caught her arm with her lower two, and grasping her fist, bent it back against the wrist. She gave it an extra twist before shoving her away hard with all of her arms. The bench hit Vonda on the back of the knees, forcing her to sit down suddenly, nearly falling backwards.
“What’s going on here?” said a new voice. It was Benny, down at the end of the aisle, his hands on his hips. At the sound of his voice, the others started drifting away, all except for Vonda, who still glared at her, nursing her wrist, daring her to tell him what happened.
“Vonda and her pals here were just welcoming me to GeneSys, that’s all. She was trying to teach me the secret vatdiver handshake, and I must have got it wrong.”
Benny stopped the others. “Wait a minute, since you guys haven’t been properly introduced, allow me. You already got Vonda’s name, and I think you know Coral. This is Val,” he gestured towards the blond guy, “and this is Claude. Everybody, this is Helix.”
“Helix?” said Claude, “her name is Helix? What a joke.”
“Yeah,” said Helix, “pretty hilarious.” She turned her back on them and got dressed.
“Don’t you guys have something to, you know, do?” Benny said, and she heard them walk away, their footsteps slapping against the tile floor.
When she turned around again, he was still standing there. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“Why should you be sorry? You didn’t do it.”
“No but, I could have warned you. Obviously they aren’t too happy about having you here.”
“Plenty of people warned me already, I don’t care. I’ve had worse.”
He shook his head at her and smiled. “This is really important to you, isn’t it?”
“Naw, Benny, it’s just kicks, can’t you tell? I’m sorry. Yes, it is, and I don’t know why.”
Chapter 10 – Ancestor Eyes
Nathan Graham took a candicane lozenge from the dish at his bar and sucked it in frustration as he returned to his desk to sort through the mail. He had neglected it during the two weeks it took him to settle the Wichita affair. He was behind on his real work, and now there was that out of control project of Dr. Martin’s to contend with.
He had a message from Brea Jeffries, the lead personnel clerk for production. He remembered Brea. She was diligent, conscientious and had a fine eye for detail. He’d always had trouble with her. She questioned anything that did not follow strict hiring protocol. He skimmed her letter in annoyance. She was enquiring about some missing application records for a recent hire.
“I’m not in production anymore, dammit,” he growled and deposited the letter in his low priority stack. He checked his watch. It was ten o’clock. In another hour, Colin Slatermeyer would make his weekly pilgrimage to the Belle Isle Aquarium.
oOo
Nathan’s maglev parked itself beside the aquarium and he got out, admiring the delicate glass structure of the arboretum on the side of the building. He’d been here once before, years ago. They hadn’t gone inside the aquarium; they just wandered around among date palms and banana trees inside the arboretum’s domes. He remembered the heady musk of orchids and the aridity of the cactus room. It was a strange place to come to alone, he thought as he ascended the steps to the brick archway above the entrance, but then, you probably didn’t get out of ALIVE! without being a little strange. Inside, the aquarium was cave-like, with black and green enameled brick walls, the mortar between them dark with age. Reflections from the display windows in the walls lent the dim light a greenish, watery cast. The air was cool, and his footsteps echoed on the floor with an odd, hollow sound. The place was nearly deserted. In fact, except for the jaded attendant who took his admission fee from him, it seemed that he and Colin had it all to themselves.
He hadn’t seen Colin yet, but he didn’t need to. He’d seen his maglev in the parking lot. Nathan strolled slowly along, looking into the tanks in the wall beyond the railing. Everything about this place, including the fish, had an air of the forgotten to it. He paused to stare at a huge gar, grey-green and ancient, its narrow, pointed nose nearly as long as his forearm. It floated there in the softly glowing water, barely moving, contemplating eternity, until he walked past and one eye swiveled to follow him.
He found Colin at the far end of the aquarium, gazing at blind, white little cave fish. He stepped up behind him quietly. “You can still see where their ancestors had eyes,” he said. Colin jerked around, his already wide eyes bulging further when he saw who it was. “Mr. Graham!” he said in alarm, and then quickly feigned pleased surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Nathan waved at the tanks, “Same as you, looking at fish.”
He laughed nervously, “That’s weird. I’ve never seen you here before, I come here all the time and-”
“I know.”
That shut him up. He closed his mouth, his expression one of studied neutrality; waiting.
“You think I came here to talk to you. You’re right. You’re a very talented young man, Colin. I’ve been meaning to tell you how pleased I am to have you on our research team at GeneSys. We’re very excited about your doctoral thesis, ‘Recombinant Percolation of Basic Proteins in Eukaryotic Sheeting’. I’ve been discussing it with the people in departmental and we think it could be big. A whole new direction for development at GeneSys. And since you’ve done the groundbreaking work on it, well, naturally...” he broke off, and shook his hands in front his face. “Let me just say, for now, that I think the folks back home would be durn proud, that’s all.” He stopped and smiled, watching him. Colin stood there, his arms limp at his sides, his mouth open. Slowly he shook his head, his brows knitted together, “What’s this all about?”
“You’re from downriver, aren’t you Colin? That’s what I like, a good local boy. Did you know I was born in Detroit? I was. Grew up in Oz, later Roseville. I remember after high school, everyone talking about where they were going to go. It never occurred to me to move away. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“Yeah?” Colin shrugged cynically. “Well, the only thing I miss about home is having Sundays off. That’s why I come here; to observe the day of rest.”
“You’re part of that religious community down there, aren’t you?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah. ‘Religious community’, that’s putting it politely. Cult is more like it.”
“Mmm. I take it then that you would not welcome an opportunity to return.”
His nostrils flared in alarm, “No, I would not.”
“That’s good, that’s good. We need you here. Doctor Martin needs you, I’m sure. He’s very tight-lipped about this tetra project and I sense that things are not... as they should be.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on, Colin,” Graham put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him conspiratorially.
“Why were you demonstrating biopolymer properties to me in connection with a project to lower production costs? Why haven’t I seen any agule density ratios on the test vats? Why haven’t I seen the test vats?”
Colin stepped away from him. “Dr. Martin is very particular about laboratory conditions. Any outside influence would taint the results of our research.”
“And the density ratios?”
Colin stared at him. Graham could see him trying to think of something to say. “If you ask Dr. Martin, I’m sure he’d be happy to provide you with those figures.”
“Sure, after he’s doctored them to show me what I want to see. No. I want you to tell me – how bad are they?”
Colin was shaking visibly now, unable to make eye contact with him. “I can’t give you any information on that,” he said, and started walking away.
“That’s too bad,” said Graham, raising his voice until it echoed off the walls. “Personally I think you have way too much talent to waste away in that downriver Bible cult, but then, it’s your funeral.”
That got him. He turned around. “I’m not going back there. I’m never going back there.”
“Really? Well, when you lose your fellowship here, and you can’t get another job anywhere in the industry, what else will you do? And when ALIVE! learns about how you’ve been holding out on them, they may take matters into their own hands.”