She kept Dunmore, though, and he’s old guard through and through. He’ll know all about this place.
The thought gave him an extra frisson of caution, though the basement seemed deserted. Dim lights brightened as he moved into their ambit.
So there is a control system down here. Isolated from the building’s main datastream, self-contained. But they kept the emergency door isolated from that too. Which means the system could never be used to lock you out, you could always get in via the stairwell.
Interesting.
Now if I were a quarantined server running an illicit underground lab, where would I be?
He turned slowly, thinking. The lift shaft ran from where he was standing straight up through the core of the building, creating a spine that supported not only the structure itself, but all its services: the stairwells, wet and dry risers, ventilation and communications. And this was deep underground, too deep for normal streaming. So there would have to have been a satellite hub down here once, boosting the signal from the building’s control centre far above. It would have been located close to the main shaft; somewhere optimised to relay a strong signal throughout this subterranean labyrinth. For that reason it would make sense to have located the new hub in the same place.
In other words, close by.
He found it in a spacious closet off the main corridor, just a few steps away from the door through which he had entered: a small, hi-spec unit encased in crystalline bioplastic, hard-wired into its power source. No integrated input screen; no one without a tablet of their own could access the thing.
Also interesting. So you can’t just stroll up and start tapping, and it’s probably got a preregistered list of the tablets that it’s allowed to grant access to. Wonder if they still bothered to tell it not to talk to strangers?
It did and they had, but the identity safeguards were no harder to crack than the stairwell door had been.
And the beauty of a sequestered server is that it can’t tell anybody it’s being breached.
The directory read like a smaller, more focused version of the many gemtech datastreams he had hacked: endless iterations of protocols and parameters, reams of experimental data, obscurely titled reports. A messaging platform, unknown to him and heavily encrypted; project and financial management apps that he recognised.
Genetype archives and inventories of genestock. KAG, and Phoenix, and others.
A glance through those sub-directories told him that easily half of them were, or were derived from, the files he’d spent the past few days working with. The rest were new to him, but he felt his pulse quicken as his fingers swept the list up his screen. He and Gwen were in here somewhere, he knew it. But there were hundreds of files. It could take hours to find what he was looking for.
Priorities, Rhys.
His own signal was weak, too unreliable to support transmission to the surface; but strong enough to wake the disused relay circuits, piggyback his tablet, and send a message to Herran.
I’m in. I found it. Can you help?
The response was almost instantaneous. Yes. Show me.
He swiped in the permission, thinking wryly that Herran could have bowled over his own defences, taken control of the signal and looked at whatever he damned well liked within a few seconds. As it was he watched the data zip lightning fast across his screen, morphing subtly as machine code overlaid output; mirroring what Herran was doing on his own tablet a dozen storeys up.
The message panel popped back to the surface.
Plenty lists. Genetypes, genestock. Need time to find yours.
They don’t just have mine, he tapped back. These are the people who stole the genestock Sharon questioned you about. There’s something very bad going on here, Herran. Someone has already been killed to try and keep it secret. We need to preserve this datastream. We can’t risk them getting rid of the evidence.
Barely time for a breath before the patterns of data changed again, streaking less swiftly but somehow more purposefully up his tablet screen.
Okay. Slow link, take a little time.
Do you HAVE time? Then, after a moment’s thought: Are you secure up there? No one can know what you’re doing. We don’t know who else is part of it.
Okay here. No one know unless tell them.
Don’t tell Callan, please. He’d just worry. Promise?
Promise. Not asking, not telling. You safe.
The reassurance made him smile. Herran onstream was a different being: direct, fluidly communicative, completely confident. And more in tune with normal cares and fears than most people would credit. Rhys watched the datastream spin away to whatever safe haven he had devised for it, and breathed a sigh of genuine relief.
It would take another ten minutes or so, he calculated, and wondered that there had still been no hint of any other life in this place. Perhaps they had already cleared out, called off whatever experiments were being conducted here, destroyed the evidence? The datastream was incriminating, true, but without the genestock it would have less potency. Sharon would no doubt have told him to leave any further investigation to those qualified to conduct it, but he had already well and truly ignored her orders. He poked his head out of the door and listened to the silent passages beyond, considering.
His situational sense was still quiet, but there was a scent on the air that troubled him. It had a hint of the hospital about it, and of something else as well – something older and deeper, like the memory of fear, and other emotions he could not name. He hesitated, reluctant to leave his tablet behind. But Herran needed the link, and did not for now need him; so he left it running, and went to find the source.
27
‘I’ve been thinking about the excellent progress we’ve made,’ Mikal said airily, ‘and it occurs to me we may be lacking in ambition somewhat.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Bel’Natur is so clearly ready. And with the Festival’s closing ceremony only a few days away, I believe there’s no time to lose.’
‘Time for what, Councillor?’
‘To end with as big a bang as you began.’
Zavcka Klist glared at him from the far side of her vast desk. She had consented to this impromptu meeting as much to maintain appearances as out of concern for how close DI Varsi’s investigation was getting. But, if they had learned anything to link that fool Nance back to the firm, surely the wife would have told her husband to keep his distance? Put an end to all contact, run no risk of a taint to his reputation? Instead here he was, sitting relaxed as a lord in one of her leather armchairs, halfway across the room. She had been greatly surprised to see him there when she turned to take her own seat; she wondered if he had not understood that he was supposed to follow her, and sit where she indicated. Nothing else about the conversation so far was making much sense either.
‘I don’t follow.’
‘Bel’Natur’s reputation is in a delicate state at the moment, Ms Klist. Despite our best efforts,’ he smiled at her gently, ‘things could turn out quite badly, if an impression forms that the company is being less than ethical, or equitable, in the pursuit of its current goals. But it seems to me that all the ingredients are in place for the very opposite conviction to take hold in the public imagination.’
Caution prickled along her nerves. ‘You’re worried about our reputation? That seems … unlikely.’
‘On the contrary. I’ve been impressed by your response to the concerns I raised when you made your announcement two weeks ago. Since then our priorities seem to have become more and more aligned.’ He crossed one impossibly long leg over the other, and spread his bizarre hands for emphasis. ‘Not only do you now have gems working closely with your own staff, you’ve committed to providing us with reproductive therapy, possibly for a great many years to come. Anything that damages Bel’Natur has the potential to harm that relationship, and deprive us of its benefits. I am very, very keen to ensure that doesn’t happen.’
‘I see.’ A hint finally, of what th
is was about. And so obvious she could have kicked herself for not understanding sooner. ‘Do you mind me asking, Councillor Varsi, if you have a personal interest in this at all?’
His smile was munificent now, as though she had just won a prize.
‘Indeed I do. It’s something,’ he said with elaborate casualness, ‘that my wife and I have discussed.’
She sat back in her chair and repressed the urge to heave a sigh of relief. A straight-up mutual-interest negotiation, couched in terms as subtle as she could wish. And he had come to her. This was so much better than blackmail.
‘I believe I’m beginning to understand you, Councillor. You’re worried that any – concerns shall we say – could undermine the Herran compensation package?’
‘Indeed. And if not the package itself, then certainly Sharon’s and my ability to take advantage of it. Given our positions we have to be very careful about what we allow ourselves to be associated with.’
‘Naturally. Tell me, do you have any thoughts on how to mitigate those concerns?’
‘I do.’ He looked as pleased with himself as any other two-bit politician she had ever met.
‘You said the opposite outcome was possible,’ she prompted. ‘That suggests something that enhances our reputation, instead of diminishing it.’
‘Something that enhances your reputation, and improves your balance sheet even further.’
‘What would that be?’
‘Your commitment to absolute fairness, to ensuring complete parity between gems and norms. The thing is, Ms Klist’ – he leaned forward conspiratorially – ‘there’s no question that what Herran is gifting to the gem community in exchange for his assistance to you solves an immediate problem. However in the longer term it has the potential to present us with several more. An accusation of unequal treatment is quite possible – inevitable, the more I think about it.’
‘Unequal?’ Her temper flared as she recalled what access to Herran had cost. ‘Aryel Morningstar and Jeremy Temple negotiated over a million credits in Bel’Natur human genome expertise! Exclusively for gems!’
Mikal was nodding sagely. ‘So they did.’
‘The credit line is going to run and run until it runs out. It could last well over a decade. Compounding the unexpended value over that time will triple the total from what it would have been if we’d just paid Herran what we were prepared to. At least. Plus a share of profits from the products we develop as a result … It is an enormous amount of money!’
‘Perhaps over the long term,’ Mikal murmured. ‘The present value is slightly less enormous. But my concern is who and what that credit line will be paying for.’
‘Bespoke reproductive engineering – not just enough for embryo viability, full-on compatibility analysis and design. Available to any gem who applies. How is that unequal?’
‘Because it’s not available to norms.’
She stared at him in disbelief. He let his dangling leg swing gently and pressed his hands together, steepling the four thumbs and six fingers and pointing them at her for emphasis.
‘Ms Klist, you made that deal under a certain amount of duress and we all know it. The fact that you made it at all tells me you think the value of Herran’s involvement will more than merit that enormous amount of money over that extended period of time. But the deal also means Bel’Natur needs to maintain its human gemtech expertise in order to hold up your end of the bargain. Now that’s a fairly big investment, and I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to find more ways to leverage it. In the meantime, norms are going to be aware of what’s on offer to us, they’re going to be aware that instead of the numbers of gems – or at any rate our peculiarities – diminishing over the next few generations, our population is going to grow. The Reversionists will, if you’ll pardon the pun, completely freak out. And will gain popular support, because people who do not share in an entitlement are more likely to turn against it.’
‘Why would norms want to share it? They don’t have trouble reproducing, and when they do systems are already in place to help.’
‘Yes, but they don’t get to have special kids, do they? We will. They’re not going to appreciate the fact that we get all the help we need to have ever more extraordinary children, and they don’t. Haven’t you noticed how glamorous we’ve become? People are enchanted by the thought of having a child like Lyriam. Or his lovely friend Gwen. Perhaps not another me, but certainly another Aryel. There’s a boom in children’s stories about living under the sea with gillungs or up in the air with flying people. The popular imagination has already gone there.’ The fingers jabbed at her. ‘And why shouldn’t they be able to realise it? Under the tightest controls, of course, the very highest ethical and welfare standards.’
‘And,’ she said slowly, still not quite able to believe what she was hearing, ‘for a price.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Those tight controls and high standards,’ she mused, ‘will be affirmed by our ongoing association with gems. Which will serve as an endorsement.’
‘Precisely.’
This was too good to credit. Time to be blunt, and see if he would backtrack. ‘Councillor Varsi, you are proposing a way back in to human gemtech.’
‘Ms Klist, you are already doing human gemtech, and if all goes well you are going to be doing it for a long time to come. I want to ensure that everything you engage in is aboveboard, and that it doesn’t backfire on gems. You want to make money. I’m suggesting a way to accomplish both our goals, and I’m suggesting you announce it at the close of the Festival. It would be proof of the new ethos of partnership and equality between gems and norms, it would put paid to any lingering doubts about Bel’Natur. Not to mention being an elegant bookend to your earlier performance.’
She sat in stunned silence for well over a minute.
‘Out of curiosity,’ she managed finally, ‘do your associates in the gem community share this view?’
‘Some will, some won’t. The view that matters most to me is my wife’s.’
‘Your wife is – on board?’
‘Completely.’
*
The black tower reared above him like a missile, its blunt, bullet-shaped tip threatening a sky now heavy with storm clouds. Not even on their first day here had it seemed so menacing. Eli affected a nonchalance he was far from feeling as he crossed the gleaming lobby, reminding himself to make eye contact and smile as he passed the girl on reception. He recognised two young men from the coding team exiting the lift as he entered it, and he managed to return their nodded greetings without, he thought, any hint of the knowledge that now pressed down on him like a weight.
Alone in the lift, he leaned against the wall, feeling the weariness that had descended under the apple trees of Maryam House wash over him again. I should be used to this by now, revelation piled on revelation. But there was no preparing for such moments.
He checked the time on his tablet. Late afternoon already. A couple of hours at the most, and he could usher Callan and Herran home to the safety of the Squats; hopefully innocent of the day’s developments, quite possibly never to return. He glanced around, eyed the tiny slits of air vents up in the ceiling panel, and wondered how Nance had been infected in the first place. Another cup of coffee, taken casually from the hand of a trusted colleague years ago, nanites inhaled with the steam? A packet of biowipe tissues left on a desk, perhaps, or a ride alone in the lift?
If they want me, they’ve got me. It’s not like this is the first chance. The opportunities and possibilities spun out in his memory, increasingly lurid, and he was grateful when the lift came smoothly to a stop and the doors slid open.
Callan met him at the entrance to the lab, tablet in hand and green eyes troubled. Eli read the look and sighed inwardly. He let himself be redirected towards the sound-dampened seating area. As soon as the air went dead around them Callan spoke.
‘I’ve had a message from Aryel. Looking for Rhys.’
‘She still hasn’t f
ound him?’ That was bad. Eli had left her pretending to be less perturbed than she was at the emptiness of the flat, and her inability to raise Rhys on his earset or tablet. ‘She thought he might have gone to be with Gwen … she’s recording today, apparently, he’d have had to switch everything off …’
‘He’s not with Gwen, or Reginald either. Aryel spoke to the studio, but I could have told her that. I don’t know where he is, but I think it has to do with something he and Herran have cooked up. They said it was a secret.’
Eli stared at him, then twisted round to peer in at the open door of the lab, where another test was being run. Herran was sitting up this time, clutching his own tablet to his chest as he read text off the angled screen that was part of the experiment’s apparatus. Sevi stepped into view by his side, asked him something, and one of his hands came away to jab at the screen. That was evidently not fast enough, and he tucked the tablet securely into his lap and used two hands, working with astonishing speed. He looked up at Sevi a moment later and they could see his mouth form the word Done as he swung the screen away. She looked startled, glanced at a monitor, and then nodded and smiled and said something to him as she stepped away. Herran’s nose was already buried back in his own tablet.
‘What’s he doing?’
‘I don’t know. He’s been weird for the past hour or so, ever since he got Rhys’ message. He’s usually quite placid about the tests, he doesn’t mind how complicated they are or how long they take. But this afternoon it’s become – urgent, as though something critical is happening somewhere else that he needs to attend to. I almost thought he was going to refuse this last one, but while Sevi was explaining he interrupted her. He never does that. He was doing something while she was talking – you know what he’s like, tapping away no matter what else is going on – and then he just said, “Okay. Five minutes. Quick quick.” And he meant it. They had to scramble.’
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