What I found out for the first (not last) time was that it was possible to tire of being afraid. Bone-weary with the weight of dreadful expectations, waiting for judgment from others, finally became—in a word—boring. Different ideas started percolating in my mind and a sundry of questions were spoken in the still of the night—such as, did I really care? It clearly mattered to Asher, but did I have an equal emotional investment in a different process for the same result? Who would know if I didn’t tell them, not that it was anyone else’s business anyway. Slowly I talked myself around finding every reason to make Asher happy. Stealing something from the Naturals that they considered to be theirs alone did have a powerful attraction, a little historical payback.
We were having lunch at a pick-and-sit, easy to get to from both work locations. Tellager, a natural colleague of Asher, approached us pushing a baby carriage. Asher introduced me and we exchanged pleasantries before turning to the smiling infant. He appeared content, but Tellager told us not to be fooled by appearances; the baby was a full-time tyrant. He asked Asher how she was doing on the current contract and they chatted a few more moments.
“Let’s have a baby,” I said as we watched Tellager wheel his son along the walkway. Tears trickled down her cheek and she rose, pulling me to my feet and wrapping her arms around me. Softly she told me how happy I’d made her.
The whole process of the pregnancy was both mundane and obscure. Asher became pregnant quickly and that was that. I noticed changes in her; she became a bit more unsettled and often asked if I was sure we were making the right decision. As soon as the pregnancy was confirmed Asher took me to the fertility clinic that her insurance had approved for use. It was a discreet building deep in a medical complex that served bottle born and natural patients. The medical staff at the clinic was all naturals, the patients were all bottle born, a detail that I paid no attention to until much too late, long after the damage had been done. No one expressed any surprise or curiosity regarding the fact that Asher was pregnant, they took the pregnancy for granted and therefore so did I. All successful frauds rely on the victim doing most of the heavy lifting, they take the bait and then do the rest by themselves. We went for weekly checkups, I was reassured about the progress of the pregnancy and unobtrusively supported in my unexpected role.
There was a scare three months in, Asher had a severe fall at work and was badly bruised. The baby was fine; Asher spent two days at the clinic and returned in rather subdued form. She made some offhand remarks about the weight of history and the importance of duty and loyalty. They did not appear to tie to anything in particular and I just let the flow by as part of the consequences of pregnancy. I was conscious of being locked out of the process in a way that I would not have been if we had brewed our baby. I wondered how natural fathers coped with it, all the key decisions were being made by the body of another, hidden from view.
The day finally came and, at Asher’s demand, the birth took place in our own space. The clinic had offered space, but Asher stood firm. It was horrifying; no wonder Naturals made such a big deal about it (my most savage nightmares afterwards involved the process of one body bursting forth from another). Then she was there. Petra, our daughter. We had agreed, after several “discussions”, to call her that and whose choice it had actually been was anyone’s guess. Love enfolded my heart and soul as I touched her tiny, perfect hand. And Asher switched from looking like a set of spare parts to a happy woman to a glowing mother.
The clinic had sent over a staff member to see if all was going well. Asher refused to have them in the room for the birth or to touch Petra, which was all normal according to my information, so the medic simply scanned Petra with a hand-held device and announced that all was well and left.
The next seven days were which consisted of blurs—holding Asher, cuddling Petra, and understanding how life had changed. Petra cried, slept, fed, and smiled … and changed colour. This seemed strange. There was no mention of it in any information I could find, nor was it listed as a symptom for any known illnesses or conditions. Slight changes were listed, but not changing from pale white-pink to bright orange, to red to silver, and then back to pale white-pink. Asher wouldn’t allow me contact the clinic to ask and assured me it was entirely normal and natural. Given the breadth and depth of my ignorance I believed her.
On day eight, Asher got out of bed, washed and dressed, and announced herself ready for living, but not ready for work. She wanted to spend more time with Petra before any arrangements had to be made. The lifeform from the clinic who had been at our space for Petra’s birth had given me details of a qualified nanny. Over the next weeks I realised the full of Tellager’s comment, Petra was the absolute ruler of our lives. I felt like someone had sliced off the top of my head and poured in a mix of happiness and bone tiredness, filling up my entire body. I worked during the day and returned home to take over salve duties from Asher who slept while I was awake. I am sure we were both awake at some times in this period, I would not swear to it. Three months after Petra was born, a weekend, we were all together awake at the same time. Asher had the morning shift and I emerged from the bedroom and caught her request for breakfast as I crossed the living room to the kitchen.
Through the door, I heard the sounds of mother comforting a daughter; I was overwhelmed with happiness. Grabbing the tray, I entered the room to find Asher sitting on the small couch with a low table in front. Petra was lying on her back, kicking her legs at Asher and smiling. I stepped around and picked up Petra, and held her to my chest.
Petra snuggled in my arms, yawned, and fell asleep with a whisper of a sigh. I burst into flames and comprehended three things simultaneously. First, Petra was the source of the fire. Second, the flames felt comfortable and familiar (I was a FireDrake, after all). Third, Asher wasn’t remotely surprised.
She stood quickly and hastened to the door, listened, then beckoned me. I walked over, the flames having subsided to a delicious heat beneath my skin. Asher put a finger to her lips and motioned me out. Once I was in the common area, Asher closed the door and keyed a re-set for the space before walking off, clearly expecting I’d follow … which I did.
Every space in Thingler has a re-set facility, which deleted and recreated the space so no trace of the former occupant remained. This was important if you didn’t know what charm residues the previous occupants left behind. It also wiped out trails and traces for anyone trying to track the occupant, a staple of crime and thriller content on the lines. I followed Asher with nothing of my former life left, except the child I carried in my arms.
She halted at the entrance of a space a little way down, keyed in the code and entered. Petra and I followed. Still silent, Asher entered the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and pulled a tiny lever. A section of the wall opposite swung open. When she stepped into it I followed her hearing the click as the door closed behind me.
Everything was mechanical, not charmed. A very dim light emanated from a source. The path was only wide enough for one person, so we walked in silent single file, which gave me far too much time to think. After walking in a straight line for what seemed a short forever, Asher stopped and raised her hand. I halted. Amber light flooded the tunnel from a nearly identical kitchen to the one we’d just left. It was a regular living space, noting out of the ordinary. It appeared to be lived in, no one else was present at the time. Asher motioned to remain silent and lead us out of the space and down out of the building.
There was a small square with a Labrossa tree in the centre and tables under the large spread of branches. Staff delivered drinks and snacks to lifeforms at the tables. It was quiet and ordinary . . . yet alien . . . and jarring.
Asher walked to a table away from the others. Drawing a calming breath, I gathered myself and joined her. Catering staff brought a sleeping seat for Petra and coffee and luscious cakes. After placing Petra carefully into one of the chairs, I took a sip of steaming coffee and began the confrontation calmly and amiably. “Please don’t lie. I wo
n’t know if you are but I think I deserve the truth.”
“They’re called Action Group 5.” Asher fiddled with the cup as she spoke. “Their mission is to develop an autonomous energy-rich lifeform, one with access to a full range of energy that comes from their baseline and isn’t constrained within the rules of a charm. The energy is free to be directed according to the will of the lifeform and can be used for any purpose. They’ve been trying to do this for over a thousand of years and are ready to continue for hundreds more—until they succeed or are overtaken by unforeseen events.
“There’s a threat on the fringes of time and space that will become urgent. This threat is all-consuming, so there’s no room for compromise. It’ll either emerge or be locked out. I don’t know more details and I only know this much because I’m an HPO like you.”
“HPO like me?”
“High Potential Opportunity, the breeding program established to develop HPOs … lifeforms with a high potential of producing offspring that generates an autonomous energy-rich lifeform.”
“What? Like me? How like me?”
“You’re part of the program,” Asher said matter-of-factly, as if this were obvious and didn’t require further explanation.
In the face of everything that had just happened I still had room to be shocked and stunned. Asher was claiming that I was part of this insane conspiracy story that she was telling me about. I did not doubt her and I did not want to believe her, there was no part of my life to date that was not a lie, not part of a huge practical joke being played on me. “I came from a commercial bottle farm, part of the Asher-Brooke Consolidated complex. Are you saying that the third biggest industrial conglomerate in the systems is part of this Action Group?”
“I’m saying that you’re part of the program. There’s no need for the entire company to be part of the plan. You just need a cooperative Brewmaster willing to accept suitable payment for a minor adjustment to a lifeline. The results affect a group small enough to get lost in the ordinary margin of error if anything goes wrong. If you have a lot of time, you can set up hundreds of thousands of experiments, each one a one-off with that Brewmaster and the results, whatever they are, are data for the next round of experimentation. A few lines of code add to the lifeline instructions and they look innocuous enough, because they’re a teeny part of a bigger plan.”
She waited until a server stopped by with more coffee, waved him off curtly, and scanned my face as she thoughtfully sipped. “At private bottle farms, evaluated results are directly applied directly to measure outcome. Slowly, options are narrowed; over time, the path to producing HPO specimens becomes clearer. An unlimited budget of time makes everything possible … if spent with care and attention. Every dead end is a positive result, because it eliminates mere possibilities and provides clues re the next steps to pursue.”
I had to know, “You—Bottle or Natural?”
Asher sighed softly. “I was born naturally to a bottle-born mother and a natural-born father. It’s a known fact the best process has been to mix the two, so for generations there have been lifeforms who’ve had one of each as parents. Crossing baselines doesn’t work—the energy patterns are different and not compatible—so the lines are always within the original groups.”
Curiosity started awakening—in droves. I wanted to know everything. An image flashed in my mind—me sinking my teeth into Asher’s neck, her information-filled blood gushing and quenching my burning thirst. I wasn’t angry, not at that moment, but detached and rational, an explorer in a new territory seeking to understand the geography.
“How did they know this would work?”
“Every bottle-born lifeform is a transplant, from one form to another. They adapt and fit together. Every Bottle-Born has sensitivity to energy, which no natural lifeform has, and it’s this sensitivity that’s the basis for the work. Developing and expanding it within a natural-born form increases the fit and the access to energy. Sometimes a lifeform can be too sensitive and dies from toxic poisoning emitted by charms. Sometimes they have no sensitivity at all. The variations excite them, because that implies a range, which can be explored and developed. A natural birth is necessary; processes rely on interactions between baby and mother that can’t be replicated at a farm.”
Asher appeared increasingly tired, as if giving information were draining her. My thought was that shock was wearing off and circumstances were beginning to press in on her. I, on the other hand, felt suddenly energized, rage was building and sending pulses through my body.
“You and me?”
She smiled faintly. “I knew I was an HPO from the get-go. I’d been told that I had a special part to pay in the mission and was trained for it. I was never allowed to be proud of this—it wasn’t because of anything I’d done, but the work and sacrifices of others. I was a High Potential Opportunity, emphasis on potential and opportunity. This prevented divisions. And the relevant parents could be any female and male couple. Odds were better with an HPO pair, of course, but a lot of experience with the unexpected made everyone very humble.
“I had an utterly mainstream upbringing. My parents worked, I schooled, and the project was a minor part of our lives. I was never directed to do anything or go anywhere; I was simply aware of my responsibilities and they influenced my choices. On my eighteenth birthday, my ‘body clock’ woke me up and I looked for a partner. There were other HPOs out in the world, some aware and some not. I wasn’t seeking either in particular.”
She sipped tepid coffee and grimaced. “I visited every Thingler meeting-arrangement service that had FireDrakes on their lists and sent details to my project contact. They ran checks and identified the HPOs on the lists. Lanken’s Tears, there were a lot. Every now and then, I’d encounter someone in the same situation as myself and we’d have a sympathetic dinner where we compared scars and disasters. I was under no obligation to have a partner. I could have gone to a fertility clinic and been sorted … or found a non-HPO partner. Being a willing participant is important to the project; it increases the odds of a successful outcome.”
I clicked my tongue, not knowing what to say and waited patiently as she regarded tables, eyed Petra, sighed, and finally chose to speak again.
“I visited the True and Only Meeting Services because there was a hole in my schedule and they were around the corner from a place where I’d finished a meeting. I saw you come out of the office looking defeated … then you glanced at me and straightened your shoulders and left.” Asher hesitated and scanned my face. “Are you sure you want no lies?”
Of course I wanted them, comforting untruths that wouldn’t slash me or grind the remaining shards of my heart. I could think of nothing I wanted more at that point than lies.
“No lies” My hunger said.
“I got your details from Mrs Kenouly. She told me you were no longer a client. I think she felt sorry for you and wanted to help. You came back as an HPO. All HPOs are developed with cues that support unforced attraction. If a spark is there, they’ll amplify it. I could see you had a spark for me and I had one for you. You were sweet and charming, and clearly falling for me, which was very flattering. I grew to really like you.
“The project ran numbers on us, as they did with everyone, and they became really excited. For the first time in my life, I was called into the project offices. Significant compatibility showed between us. We were moved into the ‘possible’ group. I was given an option to withdraw and wasn’t pressured at all. While the odds were that I’d not be the relevant parent, they wanted to ensure I was aware that I could be.
“I never hesitated I was just filled with joy. The first step was easy. You were so hungry for a partner, I only needed to provide an opportunity, so when I kissed your hand, that informed project observers that all had successfully commenced. The second step was harder. Because 90% of potential partnerships failed at this step, there had to be a natural birth to make it successful. I saw your face when I asked looking like you had stepped out the entra
nce into the deeps of space instead of the common area you were expecting.”
Asher hesitated; she seemed to be thinking about how to say what came next. I had frozen inside while I waited to discover just how big a fool I had been.
“I wanted to persuade you, to bring you round to the idea. Everything seemed so close. I was told step back and let you process everything in your own time and fashion. You never said anything and I struggled not to demand an answer from you. Whenever we made love, I thought you’d say something. My body clock was ringing so loud, I was afraid I’d go deaf and not hear you. Finally, you spoke at the most unexpected moment. I wanted to throw you to the floor and fuck you then and there wring every bit of juice out of you and into me so that I would have a baby. The Baby. I wanted to be the relevant parent; I wanted to be the one. The hero of the project, be the reason the universe was saved from destruction”
Asher smiled wryly. “The project was very happy. Each visit to the clinic gave positive results, still they had similar results before and it lead to nothing. I was told then that I was in a direct line of births that had good results and the general expectation was that the relevant child would come from a line like mine. I was very happy, I was fulfilling the goal of my life and when I had a child I would be free to go off and live with you. Our child would join the project in turn and at some point in the future the historical necessity would be achieved. I would have contributed to saving the universe. So would you, you would understand everything when I explained it to you. We would be happy forever and ever. As the birth approached I started to think differently. I did not want to be the relevant parent; I wanted to be a mother with you the father and our baby. When it came to it I could not bear to have anyone from the project near me.
Bottle Born Blues Page 19
