by D. S. Murphy
“You’ve done enough,” I said, slamming the door.
***
I wore dark sunglasses to school the next morning. None of the teachers told me to take them off. People whispered as I walked by. The nude pics at Halloween. The viral video. And yesterday I’d gotten into a fight with Melissa. An actual fistfight. But they didn’t know the half of it. They didn’t know I’d put my sister in the hospital, because I’d hacked her DNA with stolen government tech. Dad said I was always trying to fix things; I’d always considered that a strength, but now it felt like a curse.
My jaw was still a little sore and there was a bruise on my left eye from one of Melissa’s knuckles, but that wasn’t the reason for the sunglasses. I couldn’t let whatever happened to Melissa, happen again to someone else. I didn’t know how to control it, so I was afraid of looking anyone in the eyes.
I didn’t even want to go to class and see the others. I didn’t want to talk about the project, that had ruined my sister’s life and got us into this mess. But I couldn’t be at home alone, either – Dad stopped by this morning on his way to work but didn’t even say hello. I’d be with Megan if I could, but I knew skipping school would just piss him off even more, and I needed him to calm down. He had to forgive me. Eventually.
Amy sent me a link on my way to school.
“Your sister made the news,” she said.
I tried scrolling through the article on my phone but nearly crashed the bike; so I asked Gloria to read the note to me.
Yesterday evening, at 6:54pm, a young woman named Megan Hartmann was rushed to the hospital after a traumatic medical incident, permanently blinded. After losing her mother to cancer earlier this year, Megan aged 9 is one of the first patients to benefit from the NHS’s new therabot program. After making nearly miraculous progress and being told her retinoblastoma was in remission, Megan suddenly lost all vision in both eyes. Was it just a terrible accident, or perhaps an early warning sign that Dr. Kastler’s therabot program is not as safe as it seems? Alice Tan here, with the Daily Report.
Something about hearing my mother’s voice refer to herself in the third person was unnerving. For the first time I realized how weird it was; immortalizing my mother on my smart phone. I was Dr. Frankenstein, trying to create life out of corpses, and creating unholy creatures. First my mother, and now my sister.
First period was quiet. Greg was weird because I’d kissed him. Apparently he’d broken up with Melissa, for good, after she attacked me. It was all over school. David was weird because I yelled at him last night, for enabling me. Even though I knew it wasn’t his fault, I wasn’t ready to apologize, at least not in front of everyone. And Amy looked like she was trying to keep the smug look off her face. Her pained expression said, “I’m so sorry about your sister and I told you so.”
“We need to keep our heads low for a few days,” I said finally. “It’s getting too much heat right now, and since Megan – I heard there was going to be an investigation.”
“They won’t get the program, the app, our code. All they’ll know is the bots went haywire for some reason,” Brad said.
I bit my lip. “I already told them,” I said. “They know it was me.”
“Why would you do that?” David asked slowly, his palms on the table.
“It could be my sister’s life, okay? Don’t worry, I kept your names out of it. As far as anyone’s concerned, I did it all myself.”
“Todd knows the truth,” Brad said. “He knows about three of us.”
“But he’s not going to say anything. Not until he gets what he wants.”
“What about the interview?” Greg said. David must have filled in the others. “The announcement?”
“We have to hold off, until we figure out what happened to Megan,” David said. “And also... we need to talk about Brianna.”
I shot him a look of gratitude for siding with me, but dropped it when he changed the subject back to me.
“What about Bree?” Amy said suddenly.
I sighed, but the others needed to know.
“I’ve been having… adverse side effects, since the dance.”
“And you told David, instead of your BFF?” Amy frowned.
“I thought it was a fluke, until yesterday. During the fight, with Melissa. It was like I Jedi-mind tricked her. She just, stopped. Shut down, like I’d turned her off. It was creepy.”
David explained the science of what he thought was happening.
Amy looked worried, but Brad’s smile kept growing.
“You have superpowers,” he said. “Do you have X-ray vision? Can you light stuff on fire with your eyes?”
“Cool it, Dude,” Greg said. “Her sister’s in the hospital.”
“You were right,” I said to Amy. “We were playing with stuff we can’t understand. Maybe some things are better off the way they are.”
“That’s bullshit,” Brad said. “What we created, it’s going to be huge. It’s going to get out there. If we sit on it, Todd will figure out a way to do it anyway, but we’ll get nothing. Plus it works, like, really well.”
“Except with Brianna and her sister, and we don’t know why.” David said. “You saw Tan’s article this morning, right? If we announced SelfX right now, all anyone would talk about is Megan’s accident. Wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together; they’d know it was us. We don’t want to get mixed up in that.”
“But Breena’s hot right now,” Brad said. “I mean, like ten million views hot. If she does an interview right now it will be everywhere.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I said.
“Maybe we should just take the deal,” Amy said. “Let Todd worry about all the press and stuff. Wash our hands of it. A million bucks is pretty good for a high school science project.”
“A million each,” Greg said.
“Plus, Todd’s right,” I said. “They’ll connect the dots. They’ll know we stole the files from the government. We could be facing jail time.”
“You stole the files,” Amy glared, crossing her arms.
“Actually,” Brad said, rubbing his jaw, “I leaked those already. I thought we talked about this before?”
“But we didn’t all agree,” David said, pushing up his glasses.
“Better to ask forgiveness. Don’t worry, it was anonymous. I just shared the government files in a torrent file. They’re out there, now. It’s just information, but it won’t be long before other people start building creative applications.”
Brad grabbed his notebook from his backpack and flipped it open so we could see the screen.
“People have been using it too, since the video. Everybody we invited, and dozens more want in. The leaked instructions on how to recycle bots are getting mad traffic. Other kids are joining too, kids from other schools. This is about to blow up, huge.”
“They’ll still figure it out that it was us,” Greg said.
“They can’t prove anything,” David said. “What if we just set up an anonymous profile on the Arcana store and mask the IP? Get the app out there first, without taking credit.”
“We’ve already passed out about twenty of the vials,” Brad said. “People are accessing our private network but nobody is posting results or data yet.”
“Free therabots,” David said. “You know the hackers in this school are going crazy with them; they’re probably just reluctant to run tests. Nobody is going to download some .exe file from the Internet and infect their own system with it. But if it was on the app store, with proper branding and reviews, it would boost the trust factor.”
“Plus, we won’t be the ones responsible,” Brad said. “I mean at least not directly. The government put this tech out there. We’ll have a checkbox or warning with a disclaimer. We’re not actually putting the therabots in people’s bodies, or forcing them to risk a 3rd party application – that’s their decision.”
“You’re not serious,” Amy said. “Of course we’re responsible – if we put out a buggy
product that we know could have dangerous side-effects.”
“Have you never watched a commercial on TV?” Brad snorted. “Half of the ad is a list of all the horrible side effects you might experience, and people can die from an overdose of any medicine. It’s all about moderation. But other people’s self-control isn’t our problem.”
“If we were going to do it, health applications should be free,” I said. “Immune boost, anything that cures sickness or disease; all the stuff we got from the government files. It’s safe, proven, stable. But we make it open source, we can’t profit from people’s misery.”
“The cosmetic features would be paid,” David said, nodding. “That way, everyone gets help, and those who can afford to play around with their appearance pay more. It’s fair for everyone.”
“Except whoever can’t afford to get the therabots,” Amy said darkly.
***
We tabled the discussion, unable to agree on anything concrete. There were still too many variables. It felt like a tidal wave of shit was about to crash, and I didn’t see an out. But we started all this; we could either grab a surfboard and ride the wave, or wipeout early because we were afraid to stand up.
On the other hand, Megan. The therabots could heal, but they could also do harm. We had to figure out what really happened. Maybe Megan was playing around with the app or something. Maybe David or I had calculated wrong. We had to make sure it would never happen again, but that meant we had to find the source of the problem and really understand it. I was in over my head.
I rode my bike the hospital after school. No chance of sneaking in now; all the staff knew me already. I was so distracted by my thoughts, I walked past Megan’s room at first, but inside it was clean and empty. My heart started to pound as I raced downstairs to the main desk.
“Megan Harmond,” I breathed, catching my breath. “She’s not in her room.”
The nurse coughed and looked up.
“She’s stable,” the nurse said, “so she’s been moved to recovery. In a private room.”
She wrote down the room number, but then caught my arm when I turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “They came last night, there was nothing we could do.”
My eyes widened and I raced towards the other end of the hospital. This wing was practically empty, most of the lights were off, and the floors were so polished they shone. I almost passed my father in the small waiting area, asleep in the corner, his chin on his chest and his arms crossed.
I decided to let him sleep, but when I walked towards the room at the end of the hall, it was blocked by two guards. Men in black suits, with a bulge on their hips I was pretty sure were from guns. Past them I could see a man working at a desk. He looked familiar, but I didn’t stick around. The room was half-covered in plastic and what looked like a crisis center had been set up against the far wall, with expensive equipment and med supplies. Through another doorway I could see a bed and what looked like my sister’s foot.
“This area of the hospital is off-limits,” one of the guards said as I approached. They were wearing blue paper masks, like there was some kind of viral outbreak, like whatever Megan had was contagious.
“Sorry, wrong room.” I said, ducking back out into the hall.
This time on the way back I noticed the huge standing basket near the waiting area. It looked like a large bouquet of flowers, the white lilies gave off a sickly sweet smell. But deeper in the basket, there was a cornucopia of gifted tech. The Arcana symbol caught my eye from almost a dozen white boxes; a few new aPhones, an aPad, a 13” and 15” Arcbook, and even some new tech that hadn’t been released yet. My eyes grew wide at a pair of brand new VR goggles and a haptic glove. I might have only been a casual gamer, but that was partially because I could never have afforded a quality setup.
I reached into the basket to pull out a thick card that read get well soon. Inside the note was a handwritten message in blue ink.
Arcana is the leader in assistive technology; grab one of our devices and noise-canceling headphones to listen to music, movies, podcasts or audiobooks. We’ve also included a lifetime memberships to aFlicks, where you can stream an unlimited amount of content. You may have lost your vision, but don’t let that keep you away from your passions.
I frowned at the signature. How had Todd even found out about my sister so quickly? I mean, yeah she was on the news today, but to have this note and basket delivered immediately? I guess nothing is impossible for a tech billionaire.
The basket seemed tone-deaf somehow, but it was probably written by an intern anyway. Back in the waiting room, Dad was awake and talking to Dr. Jenkins. I froze when they both turned to look at me, but I was tired of walking on eggshells.
“What the hell is all this?” I asked. “Megan’s in quarantine? I can’t even see my own sister?”
“They’re sending some people down from Washington,” Dr. Jenkins said. “There’s going to be an investigation. I could lose my job.”
I scoffed but resisted the urge to roll my eyes when Dad frowned at me. I felt a little bad for Dr. Jenkins, but I didn’t give a shit about his job security when my sister was being watched by armed guards.
Dr. Jenkins excused himself and went to do his rounds.
“You should go home, Dad,” I said, as the silence drifted for a few moments. “You’ve been here since last night. She’s stable, and the government will take good care of her.”
“I just,” he said, looking exhausted, “I hate not knowing what’s happening.”
“I’ll stay,” I said. “Seriously, I can catch up on homework. I’ll call you the second anything changes. But you need to shower, eat and take a nap, you’re no good to Megan like this.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, or even get angry, but then he rubbed his eyes and nodded his head.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, grabbing his coat.
After he’d left, I opened a few of the Arcana boxes to set up Megan’s accounts. I was throwing the packaging away when a receipt with my Dad’s signature caught my eye. It was from a pawn shop, for two gold wedding bands and one diamond solitaire. I squeezed the paper in my fist. If we’d just taken Todd’s offer, we wouldn’t have to worry about money at all. I decided to sell half the load from Arcana – we didn’t need that much tech. On the other hand, it was a nice gesture, and Megan must be going crazy from boredom in there. If only there was a way to give her this stuff.
I heard a door close, and I ducked down as I saw a tall man with grey hair and a white labcoat stroll down towards the vending machines.
He looked familiar, but it took a moment to place him.
Ted Kastler, from the NHTC. He was on the phone, hitting the buttons and then bending down to retrieve a packet of chips while he finished his conversation.
“I promise sir, this won’t derail anything, we’re still 100% on track. We’ll just spin the story. We’ve isolated the threat. Just some meddlesome kids. We’ll begin the procedure tomorrow.”
Was he talking about Megan? What were they going to do to her? I peeked down the hall, but the main door was shut and the guards were still outside the room. I don’t know why she had to be guarded.
I grabbed my backpack and headed towards the main exit. I waved to the night nurse on the way out, and made sure she saw me leaving. Then I swung around back and cut through the bushes. Quarantine be damned. I had to see my sister. I scrambled up a drainpipe to reach the third floor ledge. This high, the ground was dizzying below me, but it was dark enough I probably wouldn’t be seen. I crept along the ledge until I found Megan’s room. It was dim except for the lights coming from the array of machines surrounding Megan’s bed. I looked to make sure the room was empty before gently pushing on the window. It was locked. I carefully reached into my backpack and pulled out my small tools, then slid a thin razor through the crack to push the latch off the hook. The window blew outward, and I grabbed the ledge for support. I’d have to hack my balance
later if I wanted to continue doing this kind of stuff.
Megan’s whole head was in some kind of helmet, but it was bulky and functional. Government tech, not like the sleek gear Arcana made. Blinking blue and pink lights twinkled from the shadows. I sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed Megan’s hand.
After a few moments, she squeezed back.
“Brianna?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” I said. Her bandages had been removed, but she was wearing some kind of blue-light visor. Monitors set up next to the bed kept track of her vitals.
“How’s it going?” I asked, cursing myself for the stupid question.
“The food mostly sucks,” she said. “It’s so bizarre, eating without looking at your food. Things taste differently. I was sure I was eating chocolate pudding, before a nurse told me it was strawberry. How is that even possible?”
“I guess it’ll take some getting used to,” I said. “Are you in any pain?”
“Not really. Dr. Jenkins and dad were keeping me busy at first. Dad was reading me books. Dr. Jenkins brought chocolate and doughnuts. But then all these people showed up, and they moved in, and this one guy was asking me all these questions. They took samples, blood, pee, everything. Kind of gross trying to do that stuff without being able to see what you’re doing.”
“I can’t imagine,” I said.
She lifted the visor and blinked. I gasped as I saw her face in the dim glow of the machines.
“Is it that bad?” she asked in a small voice.
I lifted my fingers and brushed her cheek carefully.
“No, it just surprised me,” I said. The bandages were gone and her skin was clear. But her eyes – they were all white, practically iridescent like clear ice, and with no pupil. She looked like a ghost, like she was possessed. Beautiful, in a way, but haunting.
“Are you going to get in trouble?” she asked. “For this?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “But it seems like the NHTS want to cover this whole thing up, so maybe not. Hey, want to hear something crazy? I got a message from Todd Brieker.”