by David Moody
#
It’s late when I get back, but Gill’s still working. I was hoping she’d have stopped and spent the time with Joe, but I know she hasn’t. She barely looks up when I say hello. I strip and shower, then make us both some coffee. ‘Thanks,’ she mumbles, barely lifting her eyes from the computer screen.
‘We need to talk,’ I tell her.
‘What about?’
‘About Joe. About us.’
I’ve been dreading this all night. At least now she’s listening. She takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes. ‘I knew this was coming.’
‘Doesn’t that make it worse?’
She’s still distracted by the numbers on the screen. I switch the monitor off and she slumps back.
‘Gill, stop. Listen.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I was talking to Joe before work. He’s struggling.’
‘I’m struggling too…’
‘You’re thirty-two, he’s eight. Did you talk to him tonight?’
‘Didn’t see much of him.’
‘Is that because he wasn’t in here, or because you were too busy to look?’
‘Both… Shit, I don’t know. What am I supposed to do, Si? I can’t stop working. We don’t know how long we’ve got left before the money runs out, and if I stop now it’ll all have been for nothing. I can’t give up on this… you know what’s at stake.’
‘I know, I know. Believe me, Gill, I know exactly where you’re coming from.’
‘So what are you asking me to do? Make a choice?’
‘No… yes… Christ, I’m not sure. Something’s got to change, that’s all I know. Joe’s our responsibility. He should be our priority.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
There’s an awkward silence. I sense she wants to get back to work but it’s late. Too late.
‘Come to bed, Gill.’
She reluctantly gets up and I hold her. At first she just stands there, then slowly she melts. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers.
‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s an impossible situation. We all know how important what you’re doing is.’
‘I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Damned if I don’t, damned if I do.’
‘It’s not as bad as you’re making it sound.’
‘Isn’t it? From where I’m standing it looks that way. From here my ultimate choice looks simple. I have to choose between my son and everyone else. You’re asking me to make an impossible decision.’
#
Some days it’s hard fitting everything in, other days it’s a breeze. Thankfully, today is one of those days. I dropped Joe at school first thing, then worked the cleaning job through until early afternoon. That’s me done for the day now. I’ve got a night off, and I’m going to convince Gill to take a break too.
I have to slam on the brakes and give way when a car races out of the mouth of the alleyway alongside the lab. Was that Alfie? He’s gone too fast for me to see, but I ask Gill as soon as I get up to the top floor.
‘Yes, it was Alfie.’
‘What did he want?’
‘To confess his sins.’
‘What?’
‘The little bastard jumped straight into bed with the General and Jenkins, didn’t he.’
‘You thought he might.’
‘I’d hoped he wouldn’t.’
Something’s not right here. Something’s seriously wrong. Gill’s seething.
‘So what’s happened?’
She sweeps her arm across the desk in rage, sending papers flying, then kicks her chair across the lab. She thumps the wall, and manages to trigger the containment protocol in her fit of temper. She panics when she realises what she’s done, but she’s too angry to think straight. Warning lights flash and the alarm starts to sound. The secure doors slide shut and bolt themselves and air hisses, sealing off one of the inner labs. She shuts it all off quickly enough, thumping her PIN into the override keypad, then leaning against the panel so the system can scan her retina. She leans against the wall as everything slowly resets, breathing hard.
‘Talk to me, Gill.’
She’s still too angry to talk. Then, finally, she speaks. ‘Alfie came to tell me he’d walked out in protest. The fucking idiots have launched.’
‘Launched? Launched what?’
‘What do you think? The military have triggered the ADP.’
‘ADP?’
‘Airborne Defence Program. That’s what they’re calling it now.’
‘And does it really matter? They beat you to it, so what? You can just keep working on your research and—’
‘But they can’t have fully tested it. They haven’t had time. Alfie’s no fool, he tried to warn them, but they still went ahead and did it.’
‘It’s early days though. Can’t you just—’
‘It’s self-replicating, Simon. They’ve engineered a variant that’s self-replicating. Jesus, in a couple of days it’ll have spread everywhere. It’ll be all over the fucking planet.’
‘And will it work?’
‘Probably. Alfie seems confident.’
‘But you knew they’d do this eventually.’
‘You’re missing the point. Everybody will be breathing their stuff in. It means all my work is wasted now. None of it’s worth a damn anymore.’
‘I don’t understand. How can that be?’
‘Don’t you see? Christ, Simon, think about it. The stuff they’ve pumped into the air is based on pretty much the exact same principles as my airborne vaccinations. By the time I’m ready to go public, the ADP will have such a hold it’ll neutralise the vaccines before they’ve even had chance to start working. I’m fucked. They have total control over the air we breathe. All of this was for nothing.’
#
This stuff was Gillian’s life’s work, but it wasn’t her life and I needed her to see that. We’d both lost sight of what matters and had let everything get out of balance. In a strange way, I thought the loss of her research might help us get things back on track. I convinced her to take some time away from it all, that maybe things weren’t as bad as they looked. Whether she genuinely agreed with what I was saying or just wanted to shut me up, she left the lab and came with me to get Joe from school. Once I’d got her away I said we should make a night of it. She instinctively found a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t, but I wasn’t listening. It’ll all look different once you’ve taken a step back, I told her.
The expression on Joe’s face when he pushed his way out through the school door was priceless. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d picked him up after class together. Come to think of it, apart from sleeping, I struggled to think of anything much we’d done together as a family for months.
We’ve been out for a couple of hours now, and Gill seems a little more relaxed. We walk home together through the park, taking the long route back to the lab. Joe runs on ahead, kicking through the first fallen leaves of early autumn.
‘Money’s not an issue. Seriously. I know it’s been tight, but once the lab’s been broken up, we’ll be back on an even keel again.’
‘Who said anything about breaking up the lab?’ she says.
‘Sorry, I just assumed.’
‘Assumed what? That I’d roll over? That I’d just give up on all that work without a fight?’
‘No, that you’d be ready to move on. That you’d come back to your family. We need you, Gill.’
She stops walking and I stop too. Joe looks back, a huge smile on his face. Her shoulders slump.
‘Okay. You’re probably right. I have a few loose ends to tie up first.’
‘Cool.’
‘Do you remember Grant Jefferson?’
‘Think so.’ I don’t, but I tell her I do to keep the conversation moving.
‘I spoke to him last week. He said there’s a teaching position at the university if I want it.’
‘Sounds good.’
We walk again, taking a pathway which branches
right and runs between two football pitches. There’s a junior match in progress on one of the pitches. We walk behind a row of parents all screaming encouragement at their kids. Joe stops to watch.
‘You like to play football one day?’ I ask him.
‘Sure,’ he says before running off again.
‘This could be us,’ I say to Gill. ‘This should be us. We should be enjoying our time together. Enjoying our son. He’s taken second place for too long.’
‘I know, but you have to believe me, it’s not because I didn’t want to be with him. I love him more than I can tell you, it’s just that…’
‘Just what?’
‘Just the responsibility. You know, I thought I was doing something that would make a real difference. Christ, how naïve was I?’
‘Not naïve, just honest. Genuine.’
She takes my hand – first time she’s done that in ages. ‘It really hurts though, Simon, and I don’t think you can understand how much. I had such an incredible opportunity, a chance in a lifetime to make things better, and it’s all gone so horribly wrong. All I’ve done is help create something that’s put everyone at risk, you, me and Joe included. We’re probably breathing it in right now. Our son’s lungs are probably full of the manufactured shit that I helped create.’
‘Some things are bigger than us though, Gill. Hate to say it, but it’s true. Since they first heard about what you were doing it’s been you on your own against the whole damn government. What hope did you really have? You’re a person with feelings and emotions… a wife, a mother, a daughter. Them? They’re just power-hungry, emotionless bastards. It’s time to forget about the rest of the world and focus on us. Focus on Joe and me.’
‘You’re right,’ she says, wiping a tear from her eye, thinking I haven’t noticed. ‘We’re just little cogs in an overcomplicated machine that’s going nowhere. I was stupid to think any different.’
‘So you’ll take a break from all of this?’
‘I’ll take a break. Like I said, just give me a few days to tidy up the loose ends.’
#
Gill picked up through the course of the evening. Her mood steadily lifted, and she once again became the woman I fell in love with and married, not the high-profile, world-changing scientist she thought she had to be. It was good to have her back.
Joe settled quickly once we got home. Once he was asleep Gill and I drank wine and fucked on the floor of the lab, exploring each other’s bodies with a ferocious excitement I’d started to think we’d lost forever.
#
On Sunday Joe got sick. Just a twenty-four hour stomach bug which had been working its way through his class, nothing more serious. He asked his mom if she could use some of her ‘air medicine’ to make him feel better, then spent most of the day either throwing up or sitting on the toilet. We’ve kept him home today, just to let him get it out of his system. He’s keeping Gill company as she starts packing stuff away. It’s just another day at the office for me: the cleaning job first, then on to the burger bar around noon. Days like this will be few and far between soon. Once things are back on track I’ll be able to cut down. We’ll find ourselves a new place and settle down again.
I spoke to Gill on my way between jobs to check how Joe was doing. She sounded genuinely happy. I think a major part of it is relief now she’s severed her ties with the military. She was even talking positively about her research again. She says she thinks she might still be able to adapt the vaccination dispersal technology. To be honest, I don’t care. As long as she’s okay, that’s all that matters.
The burger job turned into a double-shift when one of the stupid kids who works there called in sick. It’s late now, and dark. I can see the lights of the lab even from a distance. The other buildings in the neighbourhood are in darkness, and the top floor of our building stands out against the gloom of everything else. We definitely need to get away from here. I pass the construction site and wonder how long it’ll be before they come knocking at our door to pull the place down. That’ll force Gill’s hand if nothing else.
I park the car and jog to the door. The dark plays tricks on me here and makes me feel nervous. I’m thankful for the layers of security which keep the lab isolated from everywhere else. I check no one’s watching, then slip inside.
I’m getting paranoid. I’ve been thinking all kinds of stupid thoughts all afternoon. It’s only now she’s stepped away from them that I’ve realised what a risk Gill was taking by continuing her humanitarian research while she was working for the military. They could make things really unpleasant for her – for us. It wouldn’t take much to seriously piss off the wrong people and make enemies of those she reluctantly accepted as friends. All they’d need to do is dig up something one of us did in our student days, one of the many rallies we went on, the marches against capitalism and corporate greed… A few words to the people in the know, maybe a cash bung to someone who used to be close, and before you know it Gill’s a terrorist: a threat to national security, no longer the future Nobel winner I still believe she is. She’s been walking a fine line. I want her away from all of this.
The heavy door swings open then shuts behind me, blocking out the last of the traffic and city noise. In its place is the familiar quiet of this old building; the creaks and groans, the low machine hum coming from the top floor.
It would be quicker to walk but I’m tired and I call the lift. I wait for it to work its way down to ground level, then get inside and slide the metal lattice door across. It judders into life again and I lean back, thinking of bed. It’s been a long day. Hopefully tomorrow will be quieter.
I step out onto the landing, then stop. It’s dark. Darker than it should be. The corridor is quiet. I enter my PIN, scan my eye and let myself in, then stand in the small lobby area. There are fewer lights on in the lab than usual. Is something wrong with Joe? That seems a far more likely explanation than Gill having switched everything off to get an early night. I can hear the TV.
‘Gill? Joe? Where are you?’
I head straight for the cramped living area we’ve claimed as a home, flicking on more lights as I go. The TV’s on, but neither Gill or Joe are there. I go further into the lab, and as I approach the main area, it immediately becomes clear what’s happened. One of the inner labs has sealed itself off. Shit. Gill must have tripped it. It’s always been over-sensitive. Damn, I bet that’s exactly what’s happened: the containment protocol has triggered and they’re both stuck inside. I go to the small window and look in but I can’t see either of them. I rap my knuckles on the glass but it’s too thick and they can’t hear me. Stay calm. I can deal with this.
I sit down at the control desk, trying to remember the log-on details Gill gave me for when I helped her document her work. I shake the mouse and tap the space bar and the terminal immediately comes to life. Gill’s still logged in. There are windows open all over the screen. I can’t make sense of most of them.
Between this computer and the next is the mic I’ve seen Gill and Alfie use to talk to each other when one of them is working in the inner lab. I drag it over, press the button on the base, then cough, not wanting to startle Gill or Joe. Then I speak, and I can hear my muffled voice inside the lab. ‘Gill? Gill, are you in there?’
No answer. I try again. Still nothing.
Don’t panic. I can sort this out. We’ve talked about this happening before. She’s shown me where to find the emergency instructions and troubleshooting guides. I tell myself over and over that it’s probably just a system fault… just a malfunction.
There are CCTV cameras controlled by another computer. I fluff my password twice, then manage to get in on my third attempt. The dark screen flickers into life. The display is split into quarters – different CCTV images of what’s happening inside both of the inner labs. I scan each of the pictures, and in the lowest corner of the bottom right image I see her. Oh, Christ, it’s Gill. She’s sprawled across the floor, and she’s not moving. I get up and run over to
the glass again and strain to see more. I can see one of her feet sticking out at an awkward angle to the rest of her body. What the hell happened here? Some kind of accident? I hammer on the glass but I know it won’t do any good.
My hands are shaking with nerves as I sit back down at the keyboard and try to sort out this mess and get into that lab to help my wife. I find the camera controls and manage to zoom in on her face. The black and white images are pixelated, hard to make out… is that blood? I click the intercom button again. ‘Gill! Answer me, Gill!’
The static hiss of an empty channel. No reply. Then finally something.
‘Daddy?’
Joe’s voice sounds huge through the loudspeakers. I cycle through the CCTV images again, desperately looking for him. ‘Where are you, sunshine? Come to the window.’
Then I see him. He’s been hiding in the corner behind a cabinet, and he only becomes visible when he starts to move. He stands up slowly, then runs across the room, giving his mom as wide a berth as possible and knocking over a tray of instruments which fill everywhere with ugly, distorted noise. I look up as he slams against the glass, face ashen white with terror, standing on tiptoes so he can see over the sill. I carry the mic over to the window. Joe’s hammering against it now, tears rolling down his cheeks.
‘What happened, Joe?’
His amplified voice fills the room. ‘All the doors locked on us, Daddy. I couldn’t get out.’
‘What about Mommy? What happened to Mom? Did she have an accident? Can you try and get her to talk to me?’
His whole body judders as he sobs. He gives his mom a sideways glance but he can’t bring himself to look straight at her.
‘She’s not moving, Dad. The doors all shut and she couldn’t get them open again. She got angry and started shouting at me to get out of the way. She was on the computer, trying to make something happen, then…’
‘What, Joe? What happened?’
‘She started coughing. It got really bad, real quick, Dad. I didn’t know what to do. She started bleeding. She threw up blood on the floor, Daddy.’