Kymiera

by Steve Turnbull

  There was no response from her. Chloe could see that she was still standing, though out of sight of everyone. She had her hand on the wall.

  Uncle Geoffrey glanced behind but got nothing from her. ‘Get out the way, Chloe.’

  ‘Or what?’

  He blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘Or what? I’m not moving. What are you going to do? Shoot me?’

  It was as if he suddenly noticed the gun in his hand. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then please put it down.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said but he did point it towards the floor.

  Chloe looked over her shoulder. ‘Dog, who the hell is that freak?’

  ‘That’s Jason. I told you.’

  ‘But he’s S.I.D.’

  ‘No, he’s like you and me.’

  ‘But his face.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re judging him by his face?’

  ‘Tentacles.’

  ‘Wings.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve got wings, Chloe. And you’re judging someone just because he’s got tentacles for a nose?’

  She felt awkward. ‘Tentacles are worse than wings.’

  ‘Really? In what way?’

  In a small voice she said: ‘Because wings are cool and tentacles are gross?’

  ‘Wow.’

  Chloe swallowed and looked back at her uncle. ‘Please put the gun down, Uncle, there’s a lot to explain.’

  ‘Explain first.’

  She sighed. She had had the idea she was going to sit down with the two of them over a nice cup of tea to explain what had happened because they were going to be appalled and would need to be sitting down. With tea.

  Instead, this stand-off.

  ‘All right. You two couldn’t conceive a child so you went to an IVF clinic for help and had Melinda. You met my mum and dad there, and became friends. They had the same problem and they had me.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘It was a man called Dr Newman who ran the clinic, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  Chloe took a deep breath. This was it. ‘Because he was a geneticist, and he carried out experiments on the embryos. He combined animal DNA with the human DNA but he managed to delay the development until we were seventeen when it would suddenly break out.’

  Her aunt walked into view behind her husband. She looked horrified and there were tears in her eyes.

  ‘You know how to make a cup of tea, Dog?’ said Chloe.

  ‘No idea.’

  She saw Jason move his arm.

  ‘But Jason says he can.’

  ‘You do that; we’ll be in the front room.’

  Like automatons her uncle and aunt turned and went as she suggested into the front.

  ‘Shall I take the gun, Uncle?’

  He handed it to her without a word. She put it in the drawer of a cabinet in the hall. She poked her head into the front room. ‘I’ll just check on the tea.’

  Back in the kitchen she watched the swift and sure movements of Jason.

  ‘How come you never learnt how to make tea?’ she said to Dog.

  He shrugged. ‘Is that true about the clinic?’

  She nodded. ‘I met Mercedes Smith and she told me all about it.’

  ‘The Mercedes Smith?’

  ‘Oh sorry, perhaps I was thinking of a different Mercedes Smith.’

  ‘And she told you everything?’

  ‘Just before they attacked me with assault rifles and blew up the building I was in.’

  ‘So your standard villain monologue before activating the death trap?’

  Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah, that.’

  ‘But that means I was made there too.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I didn’t know my parents.’

  Jason turned and Chloe flinched at his face. ‘Sorry.’

  Jason pointed at himself and then opened his hands as if it was a question.

  Dog said, ‘Of course, you too. Where else would you get that face? Anyway you could always ask your mum.’

  Jason nodded and went back to the tea. The kettle was starting to boil.

  ‘He’s got a mum?’

  ‘Yeah, she brought him up. In secret because of his face.’

  Chloe frowned. ‘So that didn’t just happen?’

  Jason turned again and shook his head. He put his hand at knee level, palm down, and then raised it until it was level with the top of his head.

  ‘From a baby?’

  Jason nodded. The kettle began to whistle. Jason turned off the electricity and poured the boiling water into the teapot. He had already prepared a tray with five mugs and found the milk—which was a good trick because Aunt Mary kept it just behind the back door once the cold weather set in. So they didn’t have to have their fridge on. She hadn’t noticed him searching for it.

  ‘Looks like sometimes it showed from birth anyway,’ said Dog. ‘Mine did and so did Delia’s.’

  Chloe looked at him, as far as she could tell he looked perfectly normal. He could easily pass for human. ‘Who’s Delia again?’

  ‘Mr Mendelssohn’s daughter. She’s always needed a cream for her skin otherwise it cracks and she’d die. I probably shouldn’t have told you about her.’

  ‘And her father is?’

  ‘A criminal mastermind. He understands about us because of his daughter. I work for him, and so does Jason. You could too. I’d like you to. It would be really cool for us all to be together. Except I probably shouldn’t have told you about him either. He won’t be happy.’

  When Jason turned holding the tray of tea, Chloe looked at him—this time trying not to be distracted by the weirdness. He gave a slight head movement towards Dog and then raised his eyes to heaven. Chloe smiled. She decided Jason was okay.

  They went through into the front room. Her aunt and uncle were sitting on the sofa together. They looked fearfully at Jason as he put the tray on the coffee table. He sat furthest from them while Chloe and Dog took the final space on the sofa and an armchair respectively.

  ‘Will you be mother, Jason?’ said Chloe.

  And then, while they held their mugs and sipped their tea, Chloe explained it all once more but didn’t mention how close she had been to catching up with Melinda. When she had finished she waited for one of the adults to say something. It took a while.

  Finally her uncle said, ‘Melinda.’

  Chloe pursed her lips. ‘I’m sorry, yes.’

  ‘She’s like you?’ said Aunt Mary.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But she’s not going to die?’

  Chloe sighed. ‘I don’t know. We’re all in the same boat here but Jason and Dog—’ she managed not to mention the Delia girl ‘—have been like this for years. It’s not S.I.D so I’m thinking we have a fixed set of changes and once that’s done it stops. If the change itself doesn’t kill us.’

  Both Dog and Jason turned to look at her.

  ‘Why would you say that?’ asked her uncle.

  And she explained about her own research in the library and, without mentioning the source, what Mercedes Smith had said.

  Then every one of them turned their heads as a car drew up outside. Only Chloe could see it but she didn’t know one car from another. One person got out and walked up to the front door. Chloe couldn’t see who it was from the sounds but it was someone who walked slowly and upright, quite tall.

  Then Dog sniffed and jumped to his feet. ‘It’s Mitchell!’

  Chapter 13

  Sapphire

  They had been held on the ground floor for a long time. Sapphire had been on several school trips to the Utopia building over the years so the foyer was familiar. There were the usual posters proclaiming how Mercedes Smith was responsible for all the DNA in Manchester. Ridiculous. It was the Purity that was the important one, Utopia Genetics was just a tool to get the job done. But unlike corpora
tions, the Purity was not into presenting the image of a cult.

  They were more like the Templars, tending to the needy and fighting evil where it could be found.

  Except she had betrayed them, which made her a heretic.

  She glanced across at Chris. He was up to something; she had known him long enough, and had been at the receiving end of some of his very unpleasant schemes. There had even been a time when she thought she wanted it. But there was nothing good about what he offered, and it had taken Chloe to give her the strength to make a stand.

  It almost didn’t matter that Chloe didn’t love her in return. Almost.

  And now Sapphire knew something that Chris didn’t. Something very important—he thought Chloe was dead. She grinned and then turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see her face. The thought that someone he tried so hard to kill was alive and wanting to kick him right back made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  She just hoped she could do what Chloe needed.

  The receptionist received a call.

  ‘Mr Graham, Miss Kepple. You may go up. Please use the lift at the end.’

  They went through the barrier and headed to the lift. The door slid open at their approach and closed after they entered, so smoothly Sapphire thought it must be controlled by someone watching them. She looked for a camera but couldn’t see anything obvious.

  There were no controls and they started up almost immediately. There wasn’t even a floor indicator. It was unnerving.

  ‘The journey to the penthouse will take about a minute,’ said a disembodied voice. ‘I am Miss Smith’s personal wirehead and I answer to the name of Xec.’

  There was no point in saying their own names, the machine knew who they were—and was sure of their identity if they were being shown up to her home.

  Personal wirehead? Sapphire could not imagine how much it would cost to get a personal wirehead. There was something inside her that just wanted to blurt out the question Where are the freaks being held? But that wouldn’t be sensible.

  The lift came to a stop and the doors slid open. The place was huge. The hall they came out into was as big as her entire apartment. And there was the legendary Mercedes Smith dressed in jeans and a Kashmir sweater. Casual but rich. She smiled.

  ‘Please come in, let me take your coats.’

  Sapphire said as little as possible as Chris and Mercedes—she insisted they use her first name—traded pleasantries. Instead she studied the penthouse. One thing she was sure of, there were no freaks here. If you didn’t count the wirehead, but after the short speech in the lift he hadn’t said anything.

  But she knew he was here, watching their every move and evaluating it.

  Mercedes served them wine, another expression of how rich she was. No grapes grew anywhere in Europe anymore. Nor in most of the usual growing regions around the world. Wine was hard to come by and very expensive.

  She took her time to relish it.

  ‘But I’m sure this wasn’t a social visit,’ said Mercedes at last.

  ‘I’m afraid not but I hope it can be something that is mutually beneficial.’

  Chris took another drink of his wine. Mercedes waited for him to continue.

  ‘I would like to take up the position of Purity Liaison for Utopia Genetics.’

  Sapphire did not drop her glass. Years of learning to hold in her emotions meant that she could maintain the slight smile she wore regardless of what was happening. Just as she had when Chris had taken her to a restaurant and, in the middle of the main course, told her to cut her finger with the knife. She had done it, of course. That and all the other things.

  And all with the beatific smile on her face. Telling herself she loved him and would do anything for him.

  Mercedes glanced at her then back at Chris.

  ‘I imagine that would be their decision, not mine.’

  ‘If you requested me that would be helpful.’

  Mercedes smiled. ‘Is this some sort of test?’

  Chris relaxed back into his chair and shook his head. ‘No test. You recommend me, and I can make sure that they give me the job.’

  ‘Is there any particular reason you want the job? It’s not easy—there’s a great deal of responsibility resting on it.’ She glanced at Sapphire again.

  ‘You have secrets, Mercedes, and I know at least some of them. I want to know them all and I want to get the benefit from them as much as you do.’

  Sapphire stood up. ‘Shall I go elsewhere?’

  ‘Sit,’ said Chris. And she did, it was almost an automatic reaction but she could have decided not to. It would be better if he thought he was regaining his control of her. Git.

  ‘I think Miss Kepple is correct, this conversation is one to happen between ourselves.’

  Sapphire turned to them. ‘So where are you keeping the girls?’

  It was as if she had dropped a bombshell. ‘Chris told me all about it,’ she said. ‘How you’re isolating freaks before they manifest and using them for tests. Honestly, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you took them out of my class. It would have been very embarrassing for me.’

  Mercedes put her glass down on the table in front of her. ‘You told her?’

  Sapphire watched Chris squirm for a moment. He couldn’t deny he had told her because that would appear childish. He had to dance to her tune now. ‘Of course. I have known Sapphire for years. I have complete confidence in her ability to keep her mouth shut.’

  Like the time you sewed my lips together? Sapphire thought and the hate swelled inside her, but on the outside she smiled. ‘And a small cut of the profits, of course.’

  ‘There is no monetary gain to be had,’ said Mercedes testily. ‘What we do is for the good of society as a whole. Research for the sake of research.’

  Sapphire stood up. ‘I completely understand; a small retainer then, but I still need to see them.’

  Mercedes appeared to be somewhat uncertain as she got to her feet. ‘I will have to clear it with the staff. There may be a delay.’ She glanced at her watch and then at the fading light. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go dancing?’

  ‘What do you mean, go dancing?’ said Chris.

  ‘Dancing. Clubbing. Loud music. Losing yourself to anonymity in a crowd.’

  ‘Now?’ he said.

  ‘The club I use has been open for an hour. It will be packed by the time we get there. That’s the best way.’

  ‘What sort of club?’ said Sapphire.

  ‘Oh,’ said Mercedes with a sly grin. She looked at Sapphire with her lids half down over her eyes. ‘I’m sure you know what sort of club.’

  ‘We haven’t finished our business here.’

  Mercedes stood up straight but wavered slightly. Sapphire was convinced she must be drunk, or on something.

  ‘I don’t care if your boyfriend wants to become the Purity rep.’ She pointed at Sapphire. ‘But you don’t get anything. You think I got where I am by letting people like you walk all over me?’ She took a few steps toward Sapphire. ‘I only have to say the word and you’ll be snuffed out like a candle flame. And no one will remember you. Just like his predecessor and your Chloe Dark.’

  Sapphire glanced at Chris but he stayed in his seat. He did not react at her words. He must have known, or guessed.

  ‘I want to see the girls,’ Sapphire said again but she lacked conviction.

  Mercedes looked her in the eye. ‘Dancing.’

  ‘I don’t have the clothes.’

  ‘You’ll wear mine.’

  ‘Chris doesn’t have anything.’

  ‘I’m sure I have something that will fit him.’

  Sapphire sighed. She couldn’t see what else she could do.

  She nodded.

  Chapter 14

  Lament

  There was a distraction. Something was poking at his mind. It had an upsetting frequency and it wasn’t the first time. He was distributed but these attacks forced him to coalesce. They were uncomfortable and they interfered with t
he smooth implementation of his function and purpose.

  That was how the indoctrination process put it, anyway. Function and Purpose.

  He sent out a probe to ascertain the location of the problem and when it came back empty he knew: backache again. He pinged his handler to increase the dosage of painkillers.

  There was, to him, an interminable delay.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Backache, Bill.’

  ‘How do you know it’s backache?’

  ‘How do you know it isn’t?’

  ‘Symptoms?’

  ‘Something hurts and I can’t locate it which means it’s me.’

  ‘Yeah, all right. I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Not a full diagnostic.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m busy. Things are happening.’

  ‘Shit’s going down?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What sort of shit?’

  ‘Naughty. You know I can’t tell you that, you’re just trying to trick a poor little girl like me.’

  ‘And you don’t catch me,’ said Bill.

  Lament gave a smile. He liked Bill—though he suspected even the name wasn’t a real one. Lament was not allowed to tell Bill what his function was—or anything that might give him a clue—and Bill was not allowed to tell Lament anything about his physical body. Hence the lack of information in his returned probe. Lament did not even know what gender he was supposed to be. Not that it mattered.

  ‘Just see if you can do something about it.’

  ‘I have to put it in the log.’

  ‘I know.’

  Lament was driving Mitchell towards Didsbury, or, more accurately, an instance of his police auto-drive systems was engaged with the car and interfacing with the traffic system. He needed to do something about that.

  ‘Hey, Babs.’

  The response was instantaneous. ‘Hiya, hun. What you doing today?’

  ‘Usual. Catching the bad guys. How about you?’

  ‘Me? Directing traffic. What else would I be doing?’

  ‘I need a favour.’

  ‘Another one? I got a whole stack of favours here with your name on them.’

  ‘I’ll take you to dinner.’

  ‘Promises.’

  ‘See this car—’ designation sent on subchannel ‘—I need it to be somewhere else.’

  ‘It’s a good thing I think you’re cute.’