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Chris Gladstone
Desktop Publishing by Acrux/Wordright
2018
© Copyright 2018 Chris Gladstone
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced by any process, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the copyright holder. Enquiries should be made to the author.
First edition published: 2018
Gladstone, Chris
ISBN: 9780463454879
Dedication
In memory of my father who died in 2018, aged ninety-seven. I will be forever grateful to him for passing on his passion for nature, science and science fiction to me and my daughter. His legacy will live on in the memory of all those who knew and loved him. He touched so many people's lives with his care and compassion.
Contents
Start of Upload
Glossary
About The Author
Acknowledgements
Sincere thanks to Ion Newcombe, editor of AntipodeanSF, for his invaluable advice, editing and mentorship over the last seven years.
Acknowledgements to Geralt on Pixabay for the use of the perfect illustration for my book cover.
Thanks also to my family for reading my stories and encouraging me to continue my writing endeavours. Love and gratitude to my husband for his diligent proofreading and helpful suggestions.
Part One: The Past–2055
Chapter 1
For some reason, the opening lines of an ancient Charles Dickens novel kept running through Kiera's head: something about 'the best of times' and 'the worst of times'. If she'd known her future, she would have realised how prophetic they were.
She sat on the white plastic chair and fiddled with her rucksack; she needed something, anything, to take her mind off the waiting. She dumped her bag on the floor and stared down the right-hand corridor. Bluish light bounced off its surfaces, giving it an icy glow. Kiera shivered, wrinkled her nose and sniffed, catching the faint odour of robot lubricant. There had been no sign of life during the half-hour she had been waiting. Just as she turned away, movement caught her eye. A swisper-bot zipped around the nearest corner and zigzagged from one wall to the other while moving rapidly towards her. God, she'd never seen one travel so fast. She froze as the little cleaning robot swept past, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees and avoiding her legs by millimetres. It vanished around the next corner, and its sound faded leaving her immersed in silence.
She picked up her small rucksack again, rummaged around, and pulled out her V-pad. She started to scroll through her diary to distract herself from an urgent need to go to the toilet.
As the minutes ticked by, Kiera became mesmerised by her watch. Her impatience and edginess crept up a notch with each flick of its second hand. Just as she made the decision to leap up and dash for the toilet, the door sprang open.
The previous candidate, a dark, plump woman in her forties stalked past without a sideways glance and disappeared down the hallway, muttering. Logan Williamson's voice boomed from inside the open door. Kiera sniffed, stood up, and slipped her V-pad back inside her bag. She hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and strode through the door.
"Please sit down, Ms Proud." Logan Williamson smiled warmly as he indicated the chair in front of his desk. Kiera had seen him in numerous newsfeeds. He'd displayed the arrogance of a man who, conscious of his good looks, used them to his advantage at every opportunity. Today, in person, she had to admit, he certainly made an impression. Tall and slim, with jet black hair and eyes almost the colour of coal, he was dressed in an expensive navy suit fitted to perfection. She sat down and watched as he opened her file and displayed it on the embedded desk screen in front of him.
While waiting for Logan, Kiera filled the silence by surveying the room. Logan's desk and their chairs were sitting on a deep blue, flat pile carpet. The rest of the floor, finished in speckled polished cement, flashed with red colours reminiscent of varnished Jarrah. In the right-hand corner behind Logan was a small antique drinks cabinet, and a bookcase occupied the entire wall to her left. She came to the conclusion Logan Williamson must be even more eccentric than she'd thought. Nobody had print books these days unless they were collectors. It hadn't been mentioned in any of the information she'd seen about him. What an archaic way to read. But the worn state of the covers indicated they were well used, so they weren't just for show. She would have loved to have been near enough to see their titles. You could tell a lot about people from what they read.
A quick glance right took in a multitude of photographs of robots and androids that plastered the wall surrounding the door.
Logan Williamson smiled. Kiera shifted in her seat under his unwavering, penetrating gaze. A sudden image of herself sitting there naked flashed into her mind, forcing her to clear her throat. Where on earth had that come from? She sniffed.
"Well, Kiera. May I use your first name?" He placed his elbows on his desk, and steepled his fingers in front of him.
"Yes, absolutely." She'd answered a little too quickly. She had to stay composed.
"Your qualifications and experience are impressive. Tell me why you applied for this position, Kiera."
She pulled herself erect before replying, "I've always been interested in taking AI to the next step, and you are the world's top researcher in the field." She held his gaze, convinced he was one of these people that never blinked. She desperately wanted to work with him, in spite of the unsettling effect he had on her. "I would feel privileged to be able to work with you." Flattery would appeal. She smiled, hoping she had stroked his ego enough to secure the position.
"Are you able to work with minimum direction?" Logan leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk.
Kiera paused. What did he mean? She'd understood she'd be part of a team. She guessed and said, "Yes." God, I hope I've given him the right answer. She held her breath.
"Mmm." He refocused on the desk screen, his face remaining inscrutable. Minutes passed before he looked up.
A vision of herself hanging naked on a meat hook in some Middle Eastern market flooded into her mind. Oh, for God's sake get a grip, Kiera. Get a grip. She could feel her face becoming hot.
After staring at her for a few more seconds, Logan finally said, "Well Kiera, the position is yours."
It took several moments for it to register. This had to be one of the most bizarre interviews she'd ever been to. She couldn't believe there were to be no more questions. He was giving her the job on the spot. Her heart quivered. "That's zinging, absolutely zinging." Recovering and trying to regain some semblance of dignity, she asked, "When would you like me to start?"
"Straight and to the point; I like that. How does next week sound?" He turned off the display and leant back in his chair, fingers steepled and thumbs resting on his chest.
"It would suit me fine. Will I be working exclusively with you, or am I part of a team?" She'd have to learn to deal with his disconcerting stare, so she might as well start now. She held his gaze while waiting for his answer.
"There are three of us altogether, plus the tech team. I've just hired another brilliant recruit named Luke Masters. I'm sure the three of us are going to get along well, extremely well," Logan smiled, before adding, "Meet me here at half past eight sharp on Monday. I'll take you both for a tour of the facilities. We can sort out the paperwork afterwards, and I'll take you down to security to organise your biometric passes. A word of warning, please don't stray from your designated work areas. It's a rabbit warren in here and e
asy to get lost. I don't want to be spending time extricating you from other parts of the complex. There are many independent research groups working here, and they don't take too kindly to people wandering into their areas. I'll see you Monday."
Williamson sat back clasping his hands behind his head. With the discussion obviously over, Kiera stood and walked to the door. When she turned, Logan sat unmoving, with his eyes still fixed on her. "I'll see you on Monday." She stepped into the hallway and eased the door closed. Buoyed by exhilaration and relief, she turned left and headed for the exit and, the toilet. When she emerged, she waved at the Greetbot by the entrance and it obliged by opening the exit doors. The building's security had to be high because of the nature of the research carried out there. To enter the facility she'd had to buzz from the outside and be cleared by the Greetbot in reception before being allowed admittance into the main complex via another set of security doors.
Kiera stepped out into dazzling sunlight and her spirits soared. Welcoming warmth flooded into her, a dramatic contrast after the cold interior inside the complex. She hurried on past the trees and shrubs hiding the trans-terminal. Once there, she startled several onlookers by jumping up and down and dancing a little jig. She called out to the nearest person, "I've just landed my dream job."
The older man, dressed in a grey suit and carrying a briefcase, nodded in acknowledgement before boarding the autonomous, electric trans-bus that had stopped in front of him. The door closed, and the bus slid silently away. The other onlooker, an elderly woman in a floral suit, chose to ignore her completely. Kiera didn't care. Nothing could dampen her excitement and elation. She'd celebrate by travelling home in style, so she pressed the call button for a single person e-car. After she had keyed in her destination and swiped her embedded wrist credit chip, she sat down on one of the seats lining the platform and waited. The car soon arrived. She lived in the Wembley sector, only fifteen minutes away. When she'd settled in for the trip home to her apartment, she thought about Monday. And this time, her heart jigged in her chest. It couldn't come soon enough.
Chapter 2
On Monday morning Kiera arrived ten minutes early. She tapped on Logan Williamson's door, only to be greeted by silence. The two white plastic chairs were still in place, so she sat down to wait.
Kiera heard a squeaking sound. Faint at first, it grew louder as whoever, or whatever, approached. She visualised an army of mice marching towards her. Presently, a tall, slim, young man with dark red hair strode around the corner. Blue must be his favourite colour. All his clothes were various shades of it. He wore a light blue top, a light blue denim jacket, dark blue jeans and a pair of light blue, fluorescent sneakers. A blue bag, slung over one shoulder, made him look slightly lopsided. She couldn't help giggling as he strode up to her.
"Well, at least I'm not going to sneak up on anyone." He flashed her a wide, mischievous grin as he flung his bag onto the floor next to the vacant chair and sat down.
"It sounded like…" Kiera dissolved into laughter.
"Mice!" He laughed as he flicked a stray strand of hair out of his eyes with one finger.
"Are you the other team member?" Kiera said, suppressing another giggle.
"Sorry—yes. I'm Luke." He held out his hand.
Time momentarily ceased as she gazed into eyes iridescent with the colour of the Esperance Ocean on a summer's day. For a nanosecond her breath caught in her throat, and something inside her clenched. She realised she'd been staring. She recovered and extended her hand. "I'm Kiera."
He smiled and gave it a firm, but gentle shake. "Enchanted, Kiera."
"Pleased to meet you too, Luke—and the mice."
Luke laughed.
Kiera found it soft, open, and somehow endearing––the kind of laugh you didn't encounter often. She watched, amused, as he bent down and took off his shoes.
Logan Williamson materialised around the corner from the opposite direction and purposefully strode up to them. Kiera and Luke stood up simultaneously, looked at one another, and burst out laughing.
"What's the joke?" Logan Williamson asked with an expression of faint annoyance.
Luke cleared his throat. "It's just my shoes, they squeak dreadfully on this floor and it sounds like…"
"Mice. An army of mice," Kiera said, giggling.
"Mmm, I should have warned you about our floor," Williamson said, sourly. "You'll have to put your shoes back on Luke; you can't go into the lab in socks. We'll just have to put up with the noise. You will be putting on booties to go into the clean room areas, so it won't be a problem in there. Please make sure you get some non-marking soled shoes as soon as possible. Frankly, I don't find it amusing. Now follow me."
Kiera and Luke dropped in line behind Williamson as, setting a cracking pace, he navigated them through a maze of passages. Kiera wondered how she'd ever remember the route. Almost breathless, she struggled to keep up without breaking into a jog. She turned to look at Luke; he wiped his hand across his brow as if clearing sweat out of his eyes and winked. She smiled. She and Luke were going to get on just fine.
Chapter 3
After what seemed like an eternity they finally reached the AI laboratory. The sign on the door, read: Warning! Class 1 Clean Room. Full Gowns Required - Airlock Inside. Williamson opened the door and impatiently motioned for them to enter. They filed into a small anteroom.
"Jackets and bags go in here." Williamson indicated the lockers.
After stowing their things, Kiera and Luke followed him through the double doors into a small, brightly lit room. On the right were shelves holding packs of white coveralls sealed in plastic, whilst the left held a disposal chute for used garments. There was another door at the end of the room.
"I'm surprised you need a class one clean room. That's higher than hospital operating theatre standards," Kiera said, as she un-wrapped a coverall and shook it out.
"It's entirely necessary Kiera." Williamson sounded irritated. "It's vital to keep contaminants out of our rapid prototype manufacturing areas."
"I didn't realise you manufactured on-site," Kiera said, feeling stupid.
"Our prototypes are manufactured by robots on-site in sealed areas, but our R&D laboratories have to be sterile. Otherwise we wouldn't know if any glitches in the machines are internal or from dust contamination."
"You won't be involved with the research there; it's managed by my tech team. I'll introduce you at morning tea. They mostly keep to themselves, but you should at least know what they look like."
Sounds like one big happy family, Kiera thought as she stepped into the coverall and glanced at Luke.
He looked up. "I enjoy dressing up, but white isn't exactly my colour."
"White isn't my colour either," Kiera said, as she zipped up. "I like the hood and the booties, though."
"They suit you." Luke pulled on his gloves.
"You look like a white rabbit, or maybe a white mouse." Kiera threw him an impish smile.
"Don't," he leaned over and whispered, "You'll start me laughing again, and we can't have that, can we?"
Williamson, already suited up, stood by the door scowling. "Go through the door, step on to the turntable, and when it's finished go through into the airlock."
After being blasted by sterile air in turn, they stood in silence in the airlock until the pressure equalised. The door slid open, and a gust of icy air flowed over them. Kiera shivered as they stepped into a cold, sterile world of gleaming, stainless steel benches and white walls. Imprisoned workers floated around like white ghosts. Nearby, in stark contrast, a tall, beautiful, Asian woman, dressed in a long, flowing, blood red robe, stood immobile. As they approached, the woman turned her head towards them. She targeted Luke by smiling seductively. She held out her hand and greeted him in a foreign language.
Luke reached out and took her hand. "Charmed, I'm sure."
A nearby worker whirled, and his expression turned to horror when he spotted Luke letting go of her hand. He hurried over.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry." He anxiously focused alternately from Williamson to Luke. "I didn't see you come in. I'm in the middle of checking the pheromone program. It's administering too strong a dose, and I'm afraid your gloves don't offer any protection." The flustered man reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of what appeared to be chewing gum. He took out a piece. "You're going to need this. You need to chew it for several minutes, and you need to begin right now."
Luke stared at the proffered gum.
Kiera watched, mesmerised, as Luke's eyes glazed, and an imbecilic smile slid across his face.
"That's all right," he said, dreamily, his gaze fixed on the Asian woman's face.
"No, it's not all right Luke." Williamson snatched the gum and tore off the wrapper. "You need to chew it now." He shoved it directly into Luke's mouth. As Luke chewed placidly, his smile vanished, replaced with a look of zombie-like idiocy.
Kiera observed a noticeable bulge appearing in his coveralls. She turned away and put her hand over her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle laughter.
Williamson, looking thunderous, turned to Kiera. "We are testing a new type of artificial pheromone. It's delivered via touch. The gum contains an antidote. This new prototype is one of our more…umm…exotic models."
"I gathered that, so are they purely for sex? I…I wouldn't have thought you were into that sort of thing. Aren't they illegal?"
"They are extremely popular. The simple fact of life is, Kiera, if I don't make them you can be sure someone else will."
God, just what was she getting into here? This guy was turning out to be a total sleaze.
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