by D. S. Murphy
I frowned but David had a point. There was no way I was leaving Dad and Megan. There was a moment as we looked around the circle. The sun was up now and birds were chirping. Finally we agreed. None of us were ready to become fugitives.
“Okay,” Greg said finally. “What’s first?”
“First,” Brad said, his stomach rumbling, “we eat breakfast.”
***
We entered school like a pack of wolves. People were definitely staring this time, and not furtively. They pulled out cell phones and recorded our passing like we were a rare endangered species.
Greg’s teammates greeted him with hoots and hugs for winning the game last night, but I could see a layer of fear in their eyes, like they weren’t quite sure who he was anymore.
We went straight to Mr. Deckler’s office. He stood up when we piled into the room.
“We’ve thought about your offer,” David said. “And we’ll be participating in the science fair after school today.”
“You don’t call the shots here,” Mr. Deckler said, raising his finger.
“The school is already under scrutiny,” David said. “I have a feeling the turnout this year is going to be particularly impressive. You think they’re coming all this way to see some lame science fair projects? What will you do when the star attraction is missing from the lineup?”
Mr. Deckler paled for a second, but recovered quickly.
“We don’t need any more bad press at this school,” he glowered. “I’ve already got the feds breathing down my neck after that little stunt you pulled. I don’t care if a few big-rollers are disappointed. This is my school and I’m going to run it the way I see fit.”
Mr. Deckler’s neck was turning red and he raised his voice.
“Now get the hell out of my office!”
I stepped in front of David and stared him down, locking eye contact until I could feel him respond. It felt like shifting the last piece of a puzzle into place, or magnets snapping together.
I took a deep breath and watched as Mr. Deckler’s chest rose and fell in step with mine.
“We will be participating today,” I said slowly. “You’re going to make sure we get the biggest table, in the center of the display row, and you’re going to require the whole school to attend. If anyone asks, we’re your star pupils, and you’re proud of our research, and you support us 100%.”
Mr. Deckler’s eyes unfocused and a tremor ran through him.
Then he repeated numbly, “biggest table, everyone attends, support.”
I nodded, then broke eye contact. He shook his head, blinking, as if he’d forgotten where he was. Then he looked up and it was like he was noticing us for the first time.
“Oh hey there,” he said. “Sorry I must have wandered off for a minute. See you kids at the science fair this afternoon, really excited to see what you’ve been working on, I heard it’s epic!”
He smiled, then sat down again.
“You literally have no idea,” Amy grinned.
We went to about half our classes, but otherwise hung out in the science lab preparing and keeping tabs on the internet chatter. There was a huge backlash from the removal of SelfX. Some people thought it was a government conspiracy to keep people enslaved to the therabot program. A few lucky souls had used our hacked program to completely heal terminal illnesses before the app disappeared, and were speaking out on talk shows and Medium posts. There was the odd whisper about bizarre side-effects and a few posts about missing kids, but they were buried pretty deep in Reddit subforums.
Greg’s jump had been turned into a meme and spawned a few dozen YouTube videos. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was connected with the app yet, though people were putting it together – I was the face of the movement apparently, after Melissa outed me on local TV, and everyone assumed Greg had somehow used SelfX to alter his jump. An online controversy was raging about whether athletes should have to be tested for bots before competing because it gave them an unfair advantage. NBA players were being interviewed about how a ten-foot jumper would change the game.
After third period, the mood changed; people were no longer staring at me in the halls. Instead, people were pushing towards the front entrance, where a large crowd was standing with their phones out. On my tip-toes I could just see a man getting out of an SUV in a dark suit. When he took off his sunglasses I recognized him. Todd Brieker was here, in the flesh. At my high school. It was so surreal, I forgot to move or even blink. I just stood there stupidly as the crowds parted to let him pass, until he was standing right in front of me.
“Miss Harmond,” he nodded curtly. He looked different in person. More real, somehow, or maybe it was my enhanced vision that zeroed in on his flaws. I could tell he’d nicked himself shaving this morning. And he had one white hair on the edge of his ear. Practically invisible, but it stood out to me against the light behind him. I wanted to yell at him, to accuse him of sabotaging our project and blinding my sister, but I didn’t have any proof, and I was still too star-struck. All I could think was Todd Brieker knows my name.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“It’s no secret I enjoy seeking out talent at high school science fairs.”
“Yeah so you can steal people’s ideas before they know any better,” Brad said, turning up suddenly at my side. David was just behind him with his arms crossed. They must have been drawn to the crowd like I was.
“I believe I made you quite the fair offer, which you turned down. In this case,” Todd continued, “I’ve been invited as a guest judge. I’m very excited to see what you have for us today.” He grinned, waving at the gathered students, before being led towards the main office by Mr. Deckler and two large men in suits that were probably his personal security.
“Shit,” Brad said. “What are the chances he votes against us out of spite?”
“It doesn’t really matter if we win,” David said. “The results will speak for themselves.”
“Let’s hope,” I said. My stomach was in knots, and yet traitorously giddy from being on the radar of the founder of Arcana. Even though I hated him, I’d spent my life idolizing him. Child prodigy, dropped out of college to start a tech firm, now one of the youngest billionaires in history.
The rest of the day was a joke; nobody could concentrate on education with Todd Brieker on the premises. Only half the students even went to class, the others were milling around the halls, socializing on the back lawn or outside the cafeteria, which had been roped off for the science fair. Our team had to get special passes from Mr. Leister just to get inside. Arcana had posted extra security at each entrance, who made the school’s normal security team seem lame in comparison.
And then there were the other visitors: kids from other high schools, even a few from out of state, along with parents, grandmothers, health care professionals. My breath hitched when I saw Megan through the crowd holding hands with my dad. The white bandages around her eyes had been replaced by a slim white visor with three small holes in the center. She smiled in my direction, and I rushed to her, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Thank God, they let you out?” I looked up at my Dad, and realized we hadn’t spoken in days.
“Temporarily,” Dr. Jenkins said, appearing behind my father. I hadn’t noticed him at first without his white lab jacket, he just looked like someone’s dad. “But not without an escort.” He nodded down the hall, where Dr. Tedd Kastler was sweeping down the hall followed by a contingent of reporters and a team of what looked like government officials.
“The therabots healed most of the damage,” Megan said, “and they’d run their tests a dozen times. I might have thrown a fit and threatened to rip out all their fancy equipment if they didn’t let me come.”
“Nice,” I said, punching her on the shoulder. Then I waved my hand in front of her visor, and exhaled sharply when she grabbed my hand.
“You can see?” I choked, a tear running down my cheek.
“Sort of,” she sai
d. “Before, it was just lights and darks, shadows and shapes. Then Todd brought this over.”
“Dr. Kastler still thinks the therabots should be able to undo the damage and restore her sight. He’d love to turn the story around. However, in the meantime, Todd said he’d been working on this special project and he wanted Megan to try it out.”
“It scans the electromagnetic spectrum,” my dad said, “creating visual input, and transmits it into the brain of the wearer via optic nerve cables.”
“Do you even know what all that means?” I asked, smiling.
“Not exactly,” he said sheepishly.
“I can’t see everything,” Megan said, “and it’s fuzzy. But still, it’s something.”
“It sure is,” I said. “You look like a cyborg.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, looking at my dad.
“Me too,” he said. Sometime soon we’d have to talk, about everything, but for now there was too much going on. More and more people were flooding into the school and around the school grounds. Some of them had signs and posters, with slogans like my body my choice, the next stage in human evolution, and implants are life. I even saw someone wearing a T-shirt with my face on it. Apparently I’d become the face of body modification.
David grabbed my elbow and nodded towards the cafeteria doors.
“I have to go setup,” I said, though I hated tearing myself away from Megan. “I’ll see you inside. Maybe we can go for ice-cream afterwards.”
Once inside, we met up with the others at our table, which was in a prominent position near the front stage. Chairs had been set up for the guest judges. David had set up most of the display; we had screenshots of our app blown up into posters and a working model on an aPad – the original version, not the one that had been taken off the store. David meanwhile had binders full of notes and research, and the original tests and the mice, which surprisingly were still healthy and active. We’d given them names to correspond with their looks and styles. It was like we’d invented whole new species. We decided not to show actual human examples, so we could claim that human use was purely theoretical at this stage, even though everyone knew the real app was already out there and being used by people. We wanted the judges to focus on the research, not the moral implications of genetic hacking.
Still, just in case they asked, David had another folder he’d compiled from the anonymous users in our beta program, along with hundreds of comments from app users before it had been removed from the store. Other groups had finished setting up and were milling around looking at the other projects. Brad kept them at bay, while Amy and I took a lap around the room to check out the competition.
A few of the projects were impressive, but most weren’t. The judges included Todd Brieker, woman scientist, and Mr. Leister. When the doors opened, the hall filled quickly with the crowds that had been waiting outside. A few people, I could tell, had been using a modded version of our app. Alien features, brightly hair color, and some were even wearing full costumes to draw more attention to their unique look. They stood out from the parents and regular kids in normal clothes. But I was more distracted by the military uniforms. There were men in suits, shifting uneasily in the crowds, watching the doors. But there were also full green uniforms, with badges and pins and everything. I think I saw a four-star general.
I saw Todd Brieker chatting with Vanessa Briggs. She was whispering something. He leaned his ear towards her, then his eyes caught mine. I wondered how they knew each other. David was repeating his spiel and presentation for a group of onlookers. We’d given the mice a double dose of therabots so the changes would appear more quickly. Gasps came from the crowd as the mice changed their appearance in real-time. Brad and Greg fielded questions. Amy showed off a version of her app on a large screen.
I was standing off a bit to the side, watching the fair. I didn’t want to take the spotlight, and I hated speaking in public anyway. Plus, even though I was the recognizable face of SelfX, we’d agreed I had too much heat on me after Melissa called me out on TV. We wanted to keep people focused on the math and science, not the controversy or scandal. Still, just my presence let everyone know, despite our protests, that our app had already been tested on humans.
“It’s very impressive,” a woman nodded towards the presentation. I hadn’t seen her approach but she was standing at my elbow in a navy suit, with flawless skin and shiny black hair.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Especially, shall we say, the more unexpected genetic changes in teenage users. Almost miraculous, wouldn’t you agree?”
She kept her gaze steady, but I turned towards her this time and studied her more closely.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“It’s no use denying it now,” she said. “After Greg’s basketball performance. And he’s not the only one, you know. SelfX seems to do more than fix cellular deficiencies; it can also rewrite DNA in surprisingly novel ways.”
“Who are you, and what do you want?”
“I’m Vickie. Vickie Chung,” she handed me a white business card, with her name and details. “I represent a Chinese buyer. I think you’ll soon come to find that the United States is a very restricted place to conduct research. If you haven’t been already, I expect you’ll get shut down, blacklisted, shunned from the scientific community. We’d like your team to move to China, where you can continue your research. Fully funded of course, I’m authorized to make a starting offer of ten million dollars.”
Just then the front doors burst open. Dr. Tedd Kastler stormed down the center aisle with at least twelve aides behind him, wearing suits. I could see the bulge of guns under their dark coats.
“Seize it all!” he shouted. “By authorization of the United States Government, I’m confiscating all of this so called-research.”
“Like hell you are,” Brad stepped forward, crossing his arms. He clenched his fists and his muscles rippled. He wasn’t nearly as big as he’d been last night, but he was still impressively chiseled. David and Greg stood on either side of him, blocking our table. The rest of the auditorium was staring at the commotion.
Two of the men stepped forward, flashing portable batons I’d seen riot police use on unruly protesters. A woman with gray hair jumped in their way and stuck a finger in Tedd’s face. She was wearing a T-shirt with the SelfX logo on it. I wondered where she’d gotten it.
“These kids saved my husband’s life,” she said. “Your therabots helped at first, until our insurance wouldn’t pay the claim – we had to choose between a limited range of services and couldn’t afford everything. We were desperate, he was on his deathbed, then we downloaded the app. Today, he’s up and walking. It’s a miracle.” She turned towards me and squeezed me into a tight hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Several other adults came forward as well, speaking over each other with their own stories. Then half the basketball team joined, forming a row protecting Greg.
“Get them out of the way!” Kastler shouted. “Arrest them if you have to. That’s stolen technology. You can all be charged with espionage and treason.”
“They’re in it together,” the woman turned back, shouting over the crowd. “The NHTC and Arcana. The app was gone from the store today. They want to keep us sick and poor, they want to control us.”
The crowd murmured and shifted. The agents looked around uneasily. There were hundreds of people in the auditorium. Two of the guards shoved the woman out of the way. Brad pushed them back, so hard they stumbled into another display, knocking it over. One of them reached into his coat for his gun.
“That’s enough,” a sharp voice cut through the commotion. It was the general I’d seen earlier. He strode between us, glaring at the men in suits.
“Let the kids do their thing,” he said quietly. “We can do this later, when there are less people around.”
Then he turned to Brad, and tapped his shoulder. “Very impressive, Son,” he said
. “Have you thought about a career in the military? We could use more soldiers like you.”
The tension faded as the men backed away towards the walls. Ted Kastler frowned and folded his arms. “You don’t have any authority here,” he said to the general. “The therabots are my program. These kids stole my life’s work and hacked it. It’s dangerous technology. It has to be stopped.”
“Yes,” the general said with a smirk. “It is dangerous. Which is why the president sent me to keep an eye on you and make sure it doesn’t get into the wrong hands.” His eyes lingered for a long time over the Chinese woman. “You can call him, if you’d like.”
“Will the judges please come up to the stage?” Mr. Deckler was standing on the stage next to Mr. Leister, trying his best to look authoritative. Behind him were three chairs and a large screen.
The crowd cheered as Todd Brieker took the stage. The judges conferred with each other, flipping through notes on their clipboards, before nodding in agreement. Todd looked up and caught my eye, he smirked. I wondered if he’d voted for or against us.
“This is my first time judging in Sequim, and I must say I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the quality of projects. Please, before we begin, let’s have a round of applause for all the participants. You should all feel proud.”
After the clapping died down, Todd announced the third-place winner, and then the second. I watched as our classmates went forward to claim their prizes. David reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. I didn’t pull away.
“As you know,” Todd continued, “each year I offer a coveted internship to the team of high school students with the most impressive new use of technology. This year’s project has caused quite a stir, with a novel use of technology that could revolutionize what it means to be human. The first-place winner of this year’s science fair, who will also be getting an exclusive internship offer with my team at Arcana, is the SelfX app.”
There were cheers as David and I went up together on stage. Mr. Leister handed us a large red ribbon with #1 printed on it. People held up their phones and we posed for pictures, holding our award and shaking hands with Todd Brieker. When it was my turn, he pulled me in close and whispered in my ear.
