by Amy Cross
Caroline Jones
Fourteen days ago
"Well," says Ms. Hobbs as we walk along the corridor, past a large glass window that overlooks what appears to be an empty laboratory. "It looks like Mr. Lydecker might have stepped out for a few minutes."
As the glass door slides open and we step into the lab, it's clear that the place isn't properly operational. There are plenty of machines around, but they all seem to have been switched off, and it's as if the place has been tidied and abandoned. My first instinct is that this must be part of some attempt by Ms. Hobbs to distract me, but there's a look in her eyes that makes me think she's not quite as on top of the situation as she'd like me to think. In fact, she looks deeply concerned by Lydecker's absence.
"So he's not here?" I ask cautiously.
"Apparently not," she replies curtly. Reaching into her pocket, she takes out the I.D. badge that I brought with me, and she places it against some kind of scanning device on one of the benches. Moments later, a computer screen flickers into life, showing a welcome screen. "I'm sorry," she continues, "but you'll have to give me a moment or two. I'm just going to see if I can determine exactly where we might be able to find Mr. Lydecker. He's supposed to be at work today, and I'm sure you'll understand that I take unauthorized absences very seriously."
"Maybe he's vanished again," I suggest.
"Maybe," she mutters, clearly lost in thought as she opens a series of documents.
Watching her work, I can't help but realize that she seems to be the only one who's actually in charge around here. Even small companies usually have multiple leaders, as well as security teams and various different members of staff. From what I've seen so far, however, Compidome appears to be more or less a one-woman operation, with Lacey Hobbs running the entire show. I guess there must be shareholders and other people involved somewhere along the line, but for now Ms. Hobbs appears to be Compidome.
"Huh," she says quietly, still going through the contents of the computer. "Ms. Jones, do you mind if I ask you a question that might sound a little strange?" She turns to me. "Are you thirsty?"
"Not particularly," I reply. "Why?"
"No reason."
"Chloe Atkins was thirsty before she died," I continue. "She was desperate for water in the minutes before she collapsed."
"But you're not feeling the same symptoms?" she asks.
I shake my head.
"Give me a moment," she says, grabbing a phone from her pocket and scrolling through a list of contacts. The phone flashes for a few seconds, and it's clear from the look on her face that she's not getting the result that she wanted. "Pick up, asshole," she mutters under her breath, before glancing over at me and - realizing that I heard her last comments - flashing me a nervous smile.
"Someone not answering?" I ask, starting to feel as if she's losing control.
"I'm sure it's nothing," she says. "I'm sure -"
"Hello," says John Lydecker, his face suddenly flashing up on the computer screen and causing Ms. Hobbs to step back with a panicked gasp, dropping her phone in the process. "If you're watching this video," Lydecker continues, "I can only assume that you're attempting to gain access to the files stored on my office computer. I can assure you that even as I speak, those files are being automatically deleted. There's nothing you can do to stop that process, which in fact has already been completed." He smiles. "All those notes and unfinished ideas, down the drain. I know how much you value ideas, Lacey, and I'm quite certain you must be horrified by everything I'm telling you. Unfortunately, it's about to get much worse. As I'm sure you can imagine, this isn't the work of a moment. I didn't just decide to rig up a stunt overnight. I've been planning the whole thing for so long, and the final trigger was set to be activated when you come looking for me. Great timing, huh."
"This is -" she starts to say.
"It's been more than ten years since I started working for you," he continues, with a knowing grin. "Ten years of invisibility. Ten years of being ignored, of having my achievements absorbed into this bloated blob of venom you call a company. We both know that Compidome would never have amounted to anything over the past decade if it hadn't been for me. Your father might have been a visionary, Lacey, but since you took over, his legacy has been squandered. Most of the good people left. Didn't you ever wonder why I stayed, even though I was obviously too good for this sinking ship? I could see the failure in your eyes every time we spoke, and that's why I'm taking control." He pauses. "This might come as a shock, but some time ago I activated the Shades."
She opens her mouth to say something, but it's clear that she's in shock.
"Then I died," he continues. "You know me. It's not my style to sit around, waiting for pancreatic cancer to take me. I decided to end my original life and use the Shades to transfer my mind, atom by atom, to another body. A few other bodies, actually, just to be safe."
"No," Ms. Hobbs says, "this can't be happening."
"I left a little pause there so you could gasp," the recording of Lydecker says. "The only reason I ever kept you in the loop regarding the Shades is that I want you to understand, now that this moment has arrived, that you're absolutely, utterly screwed. You know the Shades can't be stopped once they're loose. They're everywhere, on a microscopic level. I'm sure you can guess whose D.N.A. they're running on, too. I've already used them to convert several unfortunate souls, so there are half a dozen versions of me already, although they won't last long. The first wave had a flaw that limited their lifespans. Don't worry, though... There'll be more soon. It's a marvel of genetic engineering, really. Why grow a whole new clone from scratch, when you can just take an existing person and hijack every cell in their body? Why try to save one fragile human body when you could hijack another and reconfigure it? The potential is enormous, but I'm damn well not going to put it in your hands, Lacey fucking Hobbs. You're nothing more than a -"
Before he can finish, Ms. Hobbs reaches out and switches off the monitor, before standing in shocked silence for a moment.
"Don't you think you should let him finish?" I ask, trying not to panic. "What's happening here? What are the Shades?"
"Nothing," she mutters.
"What are they?" I ask again, before hurrying over and hitting the power button on the monitor.
"- is about control," Lydecker continues, his face reappearing mid-sentence. "It's about John Lydecker deciding he's mad as hell and he's not going to work for this stinking company any longer. Your father was such a good man, Lacey. He built Compidome up from scratch and he had the vision to ensure that the company kept its profile low. When he died, I knew it was all going to turn to crap. I could just tell that you lacked the ability to maintain your father's vision. That's why I've been planning this moment for so long. The Shades were always a private project. Now that things seem to be coming to a head, I guess it's time for me to sign off. Don't worry, though. You'll be seeing me again. Lots of me. Maybe even when you look in the mirror." He pauses. "Are you feeling thirsty yet, Lacey? It's only a matter of time before everyone's infected."
As the screen goes blank, I turn to see that Ms. Hobbs is backing away from the screen with tears in her eyes. Since I first met her, I've felt that there's a huge amount of fear and tension in her soul, and now it all seems to be coming out at once.
"What are the Shades?" I ask again.
"They're..." She pauses, as if she can't believe that this is happening.
"What are they?" I shout.
"Nano-technology," she says, her voice filled with terror. "The idea, and I only understand this at a basic level, but the idea is that they infect a living organism and then re-engineer it from the inside out. They work on a sub-atomic level, using the building blocks of life. There are three stages. First, the host organism is killed. The Shades work faster without oxygen, so they bio-engineer the host's body to seal off every orifice. Then the second stage begins. The host's body changes. I saw a prototype. It looks like mush, like..."
"Like
it's decomposing?" I ask.
She nods. "It's not decomposing, though," she continues. "The Shades are just doing their work. They have to liquefy every cell before they can start rebuilding. The process lasts a few days, and then gradually the body begins to assume whatever form the Shades have been programmed to create. The body, the mind... everything is changed. When it's over, the new body is an exact replica of whatever or whoever supplied the original D.N.A. sample that the Shades were using."
"So you're turning one person into another?" I reply, starting to understand what has been happening all this time. "That's where all the versions of John Lydecker came from?"
"Each Lydecker was originally someone else," she explains, "but the Shades infected them and..." She pauses, before a horrified expression crosses her face. "Oh God, what if they're inside me? What if I'm next?" She runs across the lab and starts frantically searching through various drawers and cupboards. All I can do is watch in stunned silence, unable to believe that any of this could be real. Finally, she finds some kind of small device, which she presses against her wrist for a moment.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
Ignoring me, she stares at a screen on the device, and finally she lets out a gasp of relief.
"What's happening?" I shout, feeling as if I'm in the middle of someone else's insane nightmare.
"I'm not infected," she says, dropping the device to the floor. "Not yet, anyway. I will be, though. We'll all end up with those things crawling through our D.N.A. They travel slowly from host to host, because they have an inbuilt aversion to oxygen that Lydecker was never able to overcome. I have to..." She looks at me for a moment. "I have to get out of here. I have to get as far away from here as possible!" As she turns to run, I hurry toward her and grab her arm. "Get off me!" she shouts, trying to pull free. "They might be in you!"
"Where are you going?" I ask, refusing to let go. "You can't just run! You have to fix this!"
"How can I fix it?" she replies, clearly in a blind panic as she continues to try to get loose from my grip. "I should have seen this coming! I should have known that Lydecker was insane, but I thought he was loyal! My father always said he could trust Lydecker with his life! I gave him so many resources! Even when he got sick, I told him not to worry about anything!"
"He was sick?" I ask.
"Cancer," she replies. "He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was terminal. I thought he'd try to find a cure, but he said he had more important work to complete. Now I see why. He didn't want to save his existing body. He wanted to take over hundreds, maybe millions of others."
"Show me how to use this thing," I say, hauling her forcefully back across the room before I pick up the device she just used to scan herself. "I need to know if I'm infected."
"Fine!" she says, finally getting free. She grabs the device and places it against my wrist, and then she waits for a moment as the screen flashes a few times.
"Well?" I ask.
"Hang on," she says, "it's..."
I wait for her to continue.
"What?" I ask, with fear rising through my body. "What does it say?"
"They're in you," she says, taking a step back. "You've been exposed. It probably happened when you were trying to help your friend, when she suffocated. There's a colony of Shades in your body already, and there's nothing I can do to get them out."
"No!" I shout. "I'm..." Before I can finish, I realize that something is wrong. I'm starting to feel thirsty, as if my body is craving water. Reaching out for Ms. Hobbs, I try to grab her arm, but she pulls away. The desire for water is getting stronger and stronger, and my whole body is starting to feel strange, as if somehow every atom is starting to move.
"I'm sorry," Ms. Hobbs says, with no hint of emotion. "You're past the point of no return. Nothing and no-one in the world can save you from the Shades now."
Dr. Stef Grant
Today
"Forget it," I say, keeping my eyes on the doorway in case this thing, whatever it is, comes back. "I don't care what's on that U.S.B. drive, it's not worth risking our lives."
"Believe me," Lacey snaps back at me, "if I thought for one second that I could just turn and walk out of here, don't you think I'd be gone by now? Don't you think I'd have stayed away? Just keep watching the door and make sure she doesn't come back! The last thing I need is to have to face..." Her voice trails off.
"Face what?" I ask. "What did you do to this woman, Lacey? Why would she hate you so much?"
"I didn't do anything," she replies, "but she might not see it that way." Pulling open another cabinet door, she takes out a pile of papers before letting them fall to the floor. She kneels to start gathering them up again, before stopping for a moment, as if she's about to explode with rage. "Why is he doing this to me?" she shouts. "It doesn't matter to him! He's dead! I did everything within my power to make sure that he had the resources he needed, and how does he thank me? He tries to destroy everything I've worked for, everything my father built! That man has no understanding of the damage he could cause!"
Looking down at the gun in my hand, I realize that I don't need to stay here. I've indulged this angry, mad bitch for long enough, and it's time to stop this insanity. Realizing that we're both likely to die if we stay here much longer, I aim the gun directly at her.
"What the hell are you doing?" she sneers.
"We're leaving," I say firmly. "I don't care what's on that drive. I don't care if it's a message from God or a cure for cancer, we're leaving it behind. We're going back to the boat and we're getting the hell out of here. If you're not willing to come, I'll go alone and I'll leave you behind to rot in this place. I don't owe you a damn thing, Lacey, not after everything you've done. If you'd been honest from the start, maybe the others would still be alive. Maybe Cooper wouldn't have died."
"Good luck with your little plan," she replies, with obvious contempt. "I'm the only one who can call back to base and have the storm stopped. Compidome has some very ingenious patents on weather control technology, Ms. Grant. If you want to leave me here and run back to the boat, I'm sure you'll have a lovely time as you sail off to your death. I can assure you, that rickety little thing will be ripped apart by the waves before you've even got out of sight. I'll make sure to look out the window and try to catch sight of the boat being destroyed."
"You're coming with me," I tell her.
"Not a chance," she says firmly. "This drive is everything. Do you understand? It's my father's legacy, it's my legacy, it's everything in the world. It's life and death itself." She pauses, and I can see that she's starting to get desperate. "Help me," she continues after a moment, "and I'll cut you in. I'll make you rich. I was planning to go public with this technology anyway. John Lydecker's work was brilliant. He found ways to nano-engineer existing bodies. Do you understand how valuable the Shades can be? No-one ever has to die again! They just switch to a new body, which can be genetically engineered to fit whatever desires they might have."
"And where do the new bodies come from?" I ask.
"We farm them," she replies, as if it's the most natural thing in the world and somehow I'm dumb for not figuring it out sooner. "I'd really rather not go into the details right now, but the point is that each person can just move from body to body. Their conscious mind can be replicated precisely by the Shades. This is the grail, Dr. Grant. The Holy Grail was never real. It was a myth, a legend, but thanks to technology we've managed to create something just as powerful. Something better, something real. Those who can afford to live forever, will be able to pay for the privilege. And those who can't afford it, can -" She pauses, as if she's worried that she might have been about to say too much.
"What?" I ask. "What can they do? Donate their bodies?"
"It's a perfect deal," she continues. "We stand to make a fortune by giving the world a new piece of technology that takes away the prospect of death. If we don't find the U.S.B. drive, which is the one place where Lydecker left his explanation of the Shades prog
ram, we're back to square one. It might take two decades to reverse engineer the samples we've got from his earlier work. With the drive, we can be back up and running in a couple of weeks."
"And then -" I start to say, before suddenly I start to work out what's really happening here. "Where did everyone else go?" I ask. "It wasn't a coincidence that the entire population of America died just as your plans were going wrong, was it? You're responsible."
She opens her mouth to argue with me, but I can see that she's scared to admit the truth. "Stop pointing that gun at me," she says eventually. "You look ridiculous, Dr. Grant."
"Where are they?" I continue, stepping toward her with the gun still aimed at her head. "Tell me where all those people are, or I swear to God I'll kill you right here and now. Believe me, after what happened to Cooper, I'm in the mood for some proper revenge. What did you do to those three hundred million people? Where did they go?"
She stares at me for a moment. "Nowhere," she says finally.
"Nowhere?"
"They're still here," she continues. "They were all around is when we arrived. They never went anywhere. They're probably sheltering from the storm right now, but as far as they're concerned, they still exist. I'm sure they're scared, and I'm sure they're wondering why the rest of the world has started ignoring them. It's a perception filter, but on a grander scale than we ever attempted before."
"You made it so that the rest of the world wouldn't notice them," I reply. "The same way you hid this building. You put this filter, or whatever it is, over them, and now you're going to wait until you can sell their living bodies."
"The next stage will start soon," she continues. "The world will forget all about them. No-one's going to care that the population of the U.S.A. disappeared. The perception filter will simply erase all their memories. It's just a shame we couldn't move to that stage sooner, but apparently the technology wasn't quite ready."