Disruption

by Shirvington, Jessica

  The obvious come-on was a surprise. I didn’t see it myself, but girls seemed to find Gus’s genius rebel look a turn-on. Even more surprising was Quentin’s complete lack of care. He actually looked slightly amused. Either way, it gave Gus what he needed to get his mojo back.

  His shoulders loosened and he gave Ivy a lingering look, which had her turning pink. ‘I see no reason why I should. Do you?’

  Oh, poor Ivy. She was so out of her league.

  Ivy’s pink blush turned red and she shook her head, suddenly finding her shoes fascinating.

  ‘Let’s get this done then. Miss Stevens?’ Gus prompted.

  I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry, and followed Gus out of the cafeteria.

  Five

  Once we were halfway down the hall, he glanced at me with an are-you-sure-about-this look. I raised my eyebrows in a don’t-make-me-hurt-you response. He shrugged and kept moving into room 212, positioning himself behind the desk where his computer and M-Band equipment were already set up.

  ‘I see our testing group is missing a person,’ Gus said slyly.

  I shrugged. ‘Poor Thomas. Must be something in the water.’

  Gus grinned even as he shook his head. Having five people in the room would’ve made things considerably more difficult, not to mention Thomas was altogether too opinionated and forthright. He could’ve ruined everything.

  ‘You look like a nerd by the way,’ I threw at him, giving his navy blue suit the once-over. Gus had a particular style – a unique expensive yet somehow thrifty look that I’d never admit worked for him – but this suit was not part of it. At least he’d kept his haphazard hair.

  He tugged at his sleeves, scowling. ‘Blondie out there liked it enough.’ He flashed a brief smile. ‘M-Corp policy when representing the company. Baggy suits with pillow-sized shoulder pads should be outlawed.’

  I refocused my attention as I closed the classroom door and stood in front of the plastic tray holding the four small inhalers. Everything around me faded away as I studied the small vials, taking slow steady breaths.

  Pheromones are released through our glands, and we register them via a receptor located between our nose and mouth. If there was a blockage to a receptor then a pheromone reading could theoretically be faulty. The inhalers, taken through the nose, were intended to cleanse and ensure there was no interference.

  Reaching into my pocket, I extracted the tiny vial I had carried with me for the past two years. It was all I had left of my father. Dad hadn’t even known I’d taken it. I swallowed, thinking back to that day. I was only just sixteen and didn’t understand. Dad and all his crazy experiments were nothing more than fun times to me. It had been our secret. Our special time together. I wished I’d paid more attention, or at least told him how much I admired him.

  I often wondered what Dad would tell me to do if he knew I still had the vial. Given what it was capable of, he’d probably expect something sensible, like delivering it to the Pre-Evo’s. But I couldn’t part with it. Especially when I knew it could make all the difference.

  I picked up the inhaler labelled Quentin Mercer, opened the top and dumped the contents into a nearby flowerpot. With a deep breath and a glance towards Gus, who had turned a pale shade of grey, I poured in the vial’s contents and resealed the lid.

  Gus groaned. ‘We’re going to burn bad for this.’

  I licked my dry lips and tried for a smile. ‘You worry too much.’

  He shook his head, turning back to his keyboard. ‘Sometimes I think I would’ve been better off taking the jail time than getting into bed with you.’

  Now my smile turned spiteful. ‘The day you and I get into bed together will be the day I’m buried in the ground.’

  ‘Gives us both something to look forward to then,’ he hissed. ‘Turn off your band.’

  I did as he instructed and heard the ensuing beeps as my new band uplinked with my M-Chip.

  ‘Here.’ Gus tossed my new M-Band at me. ‘It’s up and running. Put it on.’

  When he saw my hesitation, he smirked. ‘Nervous you might be the one to test neg?’

  It hadn’t been what I was thinking, although it wasn’t as if the idea hadn’t crossed my mind. With all the choices I’d made lately, the things I’d done to people, wouldn’t I be the perfect candidate for a neg rating?

  Instead of answering his question, I eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re inactive?’

  He scoffed, looking like he was on the verge of laughter. ‘Baby, trust me when I say, I don’t need a pheromone reading to know you and I are never going to be compatible in any way. Inhaler.’ The last was an order.

  I grinned. ‘True.’ I picked up the inhaler labelled as mine and breathed it in, following protocol. It was important I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary – other than what I’d already done, that is.

  We heard footsteps and then the door opened. Quentin Mercer strolled in, super suave. Guess knocking isn’t required in his world.

  ‘You ready for me?’ he asked Gus, his voice as smooth as his walk.

  Gus nodded. ‘Just activating your band.’

  Quentin moved in, giving me a wide berth, which gave me confidence. I sat on the edge of one of the classroom desks and studied my new band. It looked exactly like my old band, but the touchscreen had more accessories. I cheered myself internally when I noticed that my heart rate was cruising exactly where it should be.

  There was a beep from Gus’s direction; Quentin’s new M-Band was online and attempting the uplink to his M-Chip.

  Gus’s brow furrowed and he looked up at Quentin. ‘Have you still got your other M-Band turned on?’

  Quentin nodded.

  ‘Turn it off, please.’

  While Quentin followed Gus’s instructions, I opened up my new Phera-tech zip for the first time, noting the side diagram resembling a thermometer. It provided the visual gauge of any rating, while the dial in the middle offered additional information such as gene types and health data. Phera-tech didn’t automatically entitle you to have access to other people’s medical history and gene typing, but if authorised by the individual, it was all there for the taking.

  I shook my head at the thought and heard another beep; Quentin’s M-Chip linking correctly with his new M-Band that was resting by Gus’s computer.

  This was it. The moment of truth. Two years of planning. Two years of doing things that would forever haunt my dreams. If this failed …

  Out of nowhere, my band flashed and released a three-beep blast. Startled, I looked down at the screen. The air left my lungs in a rush and another series of beeps sounded. Heart rate, blood pressure – I was going off like a freaking fire alarm.

  Feeling faint, I grappled to turn off my Phera-tech while out of the corner of my eyes I saw Gus reach for Quentin’s band, which had also beeped.

  I took a breath and dug deep for equilibrium before looking up. Both Quentin and Gus were staring at me suspiciously. I swallowed, reassuring myself that now that I had deactivated my Phera-tech any data would be erased from both of our bands.

  I’d almost ruined everything.

  ‘What?’ I said, my voice too pitchy for comfort. I took another breath and pulled it together. ‘I’m nervous and my heart rate spiked.’ I tilted my head towards Quentin, recovering my mask. ‘Surely you know what that’s like,’ I mocked, referring to his heart rate beep-off earlier.

  Quentin kept watching me, again with a curiosity that seemed to unsettle him. Gus was flat-out staring at me. Hands on hips, I narrowed my gaze on him until he looked away.

  Gus turned his attention back to Quentin and pointed to the inhaler. ‘Inhale.’

  Quentin picked up the inhaler and I could feel the blood pumping in my chest and rushing to my head. I had to work hard to control my breathing so my M-Band didn’t go off again. With a fast snort, Quentin inhaled the small dose. This had to work.

  ‘All set,’ Gus mumbled, looking back and forth between Quentin and me.

  Quentin took off h
is old M-Band, handing it over to Gus and replacing it quickly with his new upgrade. He used the touchscreen to check a few settings, seeming anxious to make sure everything was correct. Then, as if surprised, he looked up at me. ‘Your Phera-tech’s off …?’ It was a statement and question in one, though I wasn’t sure exactly what he was really asking.

  I shrugged, unfazed. ‘I’ll turn it on for the testing.’

  His brow furrowed, and then he surprised me by tapping his screen. ‘Me too, then.’

  Before I had a chance to wonder about his response, Ivy pushed open the door. ‘Ready?’ she asked, smiling at Quentin excitedly.

  Gus motioned Ivy in and followed the same process, setting her up and linking her M-Chip to her new M-Band, and then again when Nathan entered.

  Our records were uploaded and codes for our new M-Bands were scanned into the system to hook up our GPS and health history. Then, as the privacy act stipulated, Gus cleared all of the old M-Bands. Each one of us had to fingerprint-sign on his computer screen that the band was now inactive. When I signed mine, I used the opportunity to give Gus a wink, reminding him why he was here, why he had no choice. It was his fondness for rebooting discarded M-Bands and selling them on the black market that had given me the perfect leverage against him.

  I felt more than saw his seething hatred.

  ‘Your new M-Bands will be on factory settings,’ he told us. ‘Check your heart rate and other health monitors are operating as per usual, ensuring that if you have any prescribed medicines these are picked up through the link.’ Everyone complied, nodding when they’d checked.

  Gus took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Let’s turn on the Phera-tech and run a test. Please stand within a two-metre radius of one another. It’s easiest if you form a small circle. When you are ready, if you haven’t done so, turn on your new tech.’

  Nathan moved forwards first, surprising me by his eagerness. His angsty attitude always made me assume he was a Pre-Evo, or at least against the technology. But for the first time he actually appeared to be … excited. Willing.

  Huh. I’d had Nathan Bennett all wrong. He wasn’t against it. He was one of the quiet hopefuls. There were a lot like him, teenagers who’d never been much more than average and hoped their new rating potential would open doors. Until now Nathan had done a good job of keeping his desires hidden.

  Ivy scooped up Quentin’s hand and they moved into their positions. ‘This is it, baby,’ she said excitedly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

  He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I wondered briefly if anything ever made him really smile.

  Once in position, we all turned on our Phera-tech. Everyone watched their bands with eagle eyes. Everyone but me. I was watching Quentin. Within a matter of seconds his M-Band registered one, then two, then three people in his immediate proximity and the colour drained from his face and his shoulders rolled forwards.

  I glanced at Gus, who was also watching intently.

  You see, this was never about changing Quentin’s pheromone signature. Changing his signature would achieve nothing. What really made a difference was changing the way he received the incoming signatures.

  It was called disruption.

  Thanks to Dad’s chemical cocktail, Quentin had just read all three of us as negatives. And because readings are mutual and a negative reading overrides any other, all of our readings had reacted the same way towards him.

  ‘Can I get you to call out the ratings, please, as I name the pair,’ Gus powered on, remaining professional. ‘Please note that I may at any stage request visual verification. Miss Knight and Mr Bennett?’

  Ivy, who’d also turned a ghostly shade, blurted out her response. ‘Sixty per cent.’

  Nathan concurred, looking pleased he’d just rated as lust-match potential with the hottest girl in school.

  ‘Mr Bennett and Miss Stevens?’ Gus asked.

  ‘Forty per cent,’ Nathan responded, sounding comfortable that this put us in the non-compatible category.

  ‘Miss Stevens, you’ll need to verify,’ Gus said, barely containing his smile at the rating.

  ‘Yes, forty per cent is correct,’ I said.

  Sure, I was no prize, but I could assure Nathan the feeling was mutual.

  ‘Okay.’ Gus tapped a few keys on his computer. ‘Mr Bennett and Mr Mercer?’

  Quentin swallowed and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  ‘That’s a negative response from me,’ Nathan responded wearily. A neg rating was always uncomfortable. I suspected the only reason he’d said it aloud was because he’d already had the two other acceptable ratings, assuring him that he couldn’t be a neg.

  Ivy was looking at Quentin, who seemed to be ignoring her.

  Yep. Suave had left the building.

  When it became apparent Quentin wasn’t in a hurry to verify, Gus used the opportunity. ‘Mr Bennett, could you please bring your band over here for visual verification.’

  The Privacy Act prevented ratings from being recorded on any kind of government mainframe. Except in the case that your Phera-tech registered four or more negative ratings in a month. If that happened, a flag was activated and privacy became non-existent. If an investigation proved the person was a neg, removal was immediate.

  Technicians like Gus were authorised and expected to make random visual checks when they felt the need.

  Once Gus had verified the reading and sent Nathan back to the circle, he proceeded. ‘I need Miss Knight and Miss Stevens.’

  ‘Forty-five per cent,’ Ivy said, sounding distracted.

  Girls tended to rate quite low with one another – unless they were gay – averaging between twenty-five and fifty per cent. Boys had higher averages, ranging between forty to sixty per cent. This reading put Ivy and me in the compatible friend category. Strange.

  I verified the result.

  ‘Thank you,’ Gus said, entering some more data. ‘Miss Knight and Mr Mercer?’

  This time, it was Ivy who appeared to be speechless. ‘I … I …’

  Gus looked up, eyebrows raised inquisitively as if he didn’t know exactly what she was about to say.

  ‘Negative,’ Quentin said, his tone low, lost.

  When Ivy remained speechless, Gus took a visual verification from her before returning to his computer, entering the numbers. ‘Mr Mercer and Miss Stevens?’

  My M-Band gave me the exact same reading for our compatibility as it did for Quentin. He knew what the answer was just as much as I did. In my peripheral vision, I could see Ivy watching, mouth agape, and Nathan looking increasingly smug. I was glad Nathan and I were incompatible.

  Quentin looked up and was about to say the word when I jumped in. ‘Eighty-two per cent.’

  Ivy gasped. I had to refrain from shaking my head at her. Instead of being relieved for Quentin, she looked disappointed. By rating so well with me, it meant she couldn’t blame their neg result on him.

  Quentin’s eyes cut to mine, overflowing with fear and questions. I held his gaze, challenging him once again. He needed to corroborate the rating.

  Seconds felt like an eternity as he looked at me, wondering what game I was playing. If only he knew …

  Finally, and slowly, Quentin nodded and cleared his throat. ‘Eighty-two per cent,’ he confirmed.

  My insides flipped. Hooked.

  ‘Right,’ Gus said quickly, entering the data into his report. ‘Well, unless you want to stay behind with any questions, we’re all done here.’

  Nathan was out the door in a flash. While it was going to be impossible for Ivy to keep her rating with Quentin a secret, I could tell Nathan wouldn’t be advertising his one neg rating.

  Ivy looked longingly at the door and then back at Quentin. ‘I should … you know, get back to class,’ she said, avoiding his eyes.

  Quentin nodded distractedly. ‘Catch you later.’

  Wow, was that their way of breaking up?

  When it was just Quentin, Gus and me in the room, Quentin took a nervous
step in my direction. ‘Can we talk, outside?’

  Instead of answering him, I turned my attention to Gus. ‘Mr Reynolds, could you please confirm for me – is a history of our ratings kept on file anywhere?’

  ‘Why is that, Miss Stevens? Hoping not to leave an electronic trail of lust-matches?’ Gus replied, working hard to suppress his smirk.

  ‘Not at all. Just wondering if there is some tech-perv sitting in a room somewhere, watching over my relationship status.’ I threw him a tight-lipped smile.

  His eyes narrowed, but this time he stayed on script. ‘There is no history recorded anywhere. The Privacy Act guarantees that your results remain your business, unless of course you trigger four or more negative readings in any one-month period. Then, well, it’s a different ball game,’ he replied, reminding Quentin that if he received one more neg rating this month he would be up for investigation.

  Investigations didn’t end well.

  ‘Anything else, Miss Stevens?’

  ‘No. That’s it.’ I made a show of adjusting my M-Band to turn off the Phera-tech and finally glanced at Quentin, who’d been listening to the exchange. ‘You might want to do the same,’ I said quietly.

  He nodded and followed suit.

  Gus glanced up at Quentin. ‘Sorry about your neg ratings, man. I mean, with your girl and all. You have money riding on that?’

  Quentin was still watching me as he shrugged and mumbled. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  Gus glanced at me one last time, his sparkling eyes saying enough. Yeah, it was a mega payday for us. I’d put almost all of my savings, plus a big contribution by Gus, against Ivy and Quentin being compatible. And the odds had definitely been in our favour.

  Not wanting to delay anymore, I headed for the door. ‘See ya round,’ I said, smiling when I heard Quentin hurrying after me.

  ‘Wait, we need to … Can we talk? What you did back there … I mean …’

  I slowed and looked at him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he rasped. ‘If Thomas had been there …’ He rubbed his hand over his face as he considered the dire result. Yes, if Thomas had been there, he’d already be under investigation.