by Olga Werby
There were, however, a couple of problems with scent dispersal. First, the animal enclosure was kept cold; the pigs didn’t have sweat glands and providing them with mud pits to cool down wasn’t practical. But low temperatures affect the dispersal of molecules that carry scent. The molecules in the air move slower as the environmental temperature goes down—that’s why odors are always stronger in hot climates. The second problem was the pigs’ rooting behavior. Pigs tend to keep their muzzles, and thus their nostrils, down close to the ground, while the fake chocolate scent wafts in from above. To compensate for both of these problems, Ben had set up a little fan to help disperse the delicious smells of chocolate.
Twiggy and Bricks noticed the scent almost at the same time. Their heads snapped up, the tiny hackles on their backs stood up, and their tails started to twitch. These microbehaviors were the first signs of agitation in the pigs. They swiveled their heads to try to figure out where the scent was coming from.
“How are you doing in there?” Will called over the intercom.
“Fine,” Toby said. Kyle didn’t answer and he didn’t press any of his communication buttons.
Toby and Kyle each had a camera trained on their face. Other monitors in the control room showed a wider view of the riders reclining in their special chairs. Toby looked serene, but her left hand mirrored Twiggy’s twitching tail. Kyle’s face was distorted in concentration, both hands gripping the arms of the chair.
“Vikka? May? How are our riders doing in there?” Will asked.
“They seem fine,” Vikka said.
“Toby’s heart rate is a bit elevated—one hundred ten beats per minute,” Lilly said from the vitals monitoring station. “Kyle’s is one fifty. I’m hoping he can get it down.”
“Kyle, try to lower your heart rate,” Will called over the intercom.
Kyle pressed the “yes” button. Kyle and May had both had meditation training. Perhaps he was applying those skills now.
“He’s down to one thirty,” Lilly said.
“Good. Very good,” Will said. “More chocolate, Ben. Let’s see what our piggies do now.”
The smell of the chocolate treat increased. Twiggy and Bricks rooted around in frustration, looking for the non-existent treat. Bricks/Kyle started to fling his head from front to side and chomp his teeth. A small amount of white foamy discharge appeared around his mouth.
“We’ve got foaming,” Ben called out. “But only on Bricks. Toby’s ride seems calmer.” Twiggy was running, doing laps around the enclosure, but with no head-swinging or chomping.
“Okay. Engage the cog-boost,” Will said.
“The cog-boost is online,” Ben announced.
Will’s hands gripped the edge of his desk. This was it.
Twiggy stopped running. Bricks stopped swinging his head and he started to gently grind his teeth—a sign of relaxation. Twiggy wagged her little curly tail like a dog—another behavioral clue that tension was unwinding.
“Looking good,” Will called out to his team.
Toby smiled at him from the monitor overhead. Kyle’s face was still tight, his eyes half closed.
“I can smell the chocolate, Dad,” Toby said softly. “It smells yummy.”
“How does it make you feel?” Will asked.
“It was disturbing at first, when Twiggy couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.”
“But then?”
“But then I could make Twiggy not care so much about looking for the chocolate and just enjoy the smell,” Toby said, smiling slightly.
Her hand stopped mirroring her piglet’s tail motions and she seemed completely relaxed. Her heart rate dropped to her normal resting rate of eighty-five beats per minute—still a bit elevated for someone her age and size, but cystic fibrosis compromised her breathing.
“Kyle?” May asked.
“Didn’t smell the chocolate,” he said.
“Okay then,” Will said. “Ben? Drop a few Raisinets and some bread. Twiggy and Bricks did well today. We’ll try a more complicated task tomorrow.”
A small panel opened and two halves of a sourdough baguette and a few chocolate raisin treats dropped into the enclosure. Bricks lunged for the treats, but Twiggy took her time ambling over to get her reward.
“There’s quite a difference in control,” Vikka noted, but it was already obvious to everyone, including Kyle. His face, usually void of emotional cues, was scrunched in dissatisfaction. The lieutenant clearly had a hard time simultaneously controlling both his animal’s and his own mental state.
“We’ll try again tomorrow, Kyle,” Toby said to him as her piglet munched on the chocolate-covered raisins. There was a little bit of drool at the corner of her mouth. The candy and the baguettes tasted good and the sensory overload would take time to get over.
“I want to try again now,” Kyle said to Will. “Toby needs less time to assert control with the cog-boost. But I need practice.”
“Bricks is tired,” Will said. “He’s still a very young pig. We all made a decision to go slow with the new feature.”
“But what if the animal needs to be young? What if a more mature pig brain would be harder to train?” Kyle said.
“Why don’t we have Toby try riding Bricks?” Lilly suggested. “Maybe she can break him in for you—”
“Why can’t we just follow the experimental protocol?” Ben said. “We won’t get good data if we continuously change the parameters.”
“But Toby is so good at this that I don’t know if we are even comparing apples to oranges,” Lilly said. “Will, I think we should let Toby train the animals first and then get others to take over. At least then we’ll be looking at the differences in animals as opposed to differences in riders.”
“It’s a good point…” Will started.
Kyle cut in. “The major ordered us to make this work for more than just Toby.”
“I understand what Major Watson wants,” Will said coolly. “But this is still my research project.” He took a breath. “Lilly is right. Let’s try Bricks with Toby and see if she can control him as well as she can control Twiggy.”
“Today? Or tomorrow?” Vikka asked. It was still her job to make sure Toby kept up with her schoolwork.
“I would like to try again today,” Kyle said. His emotions were back under control, but he wanted to push the project forward. The major was coming soon.
“Tomorrow,” Will said and, from his tone, it was clear the discussion was over.
After Kyle and May left, Will turned to Vikka. “Thanks for looking out for Toby. I think it’s hard for Kyle to remember that he’s working with a twelve-year-old girl. There’s only so much I’m willing to push her to do.”
“And there are child labor laws,” Vikka said.
“Precisely!” Will said. “Okay, Ben, Lilly? Shall we go over the data?”
“Are your people getting up to speed?” Major Evans asked. He never wasted time when he called to get Brats updates from George.
“There’s some progress,” George said. “May and Kyle are very good at riding rats.”
“You told me that last time.”
“The cog-boost is a success. The pigs didn’t reject the implant and Kyle gets more control over his pig even when it’s under stress.”
“And May?” Major Evans pressed. He excelled at identifying what George didn’t say. “Can she not handle something larger than a rat?”
“I’m not sure it’s May,” George said. “Animals seem to bond to a particular rider. We noticed the effect with the rats, but it’s more pronounced in the pigs, probably because they’re more intelligent. Toby bonded with one of the pigs and Kyle with the other. Just the luck of the draw. And now, when May tries to ride Kyle’s pig, she says she gets pushback from the pig.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I thought so too. I’d test this more, but Crowe’s lab just doesn’t have the bandwidth.”
“That’ll have to change.”
“It’s in prog
ress. We have mirrors of all his hard drives and the remote facility is trying to get up to speed. But Will is constantly developing new technology, adjusting and making design changes on the fly. Most of his ideas are just in his head. Really, he’s a genius. I can’t duplicate that at another site. And then there’s Toby. I think she’s even more special than her dad.”
“But you are able to manage the situation?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Carry on then.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Eight: +50 Months
“Toby!” Will called from the hallway. “Have you seen my lab coat?”
Toby walked to the lab next door to her office—they all called it “the menagerie.” Toby’s office was too small to hold all the animal cages and toys, so they had been moved to this new room. Toby had wanted them with her all the time, but she reluctantly conceded that it made sense—not just because of space considerations, but because of her health too. She could feel the pressure on her lungs from so many animals in the same small space. The pigs were hypoallergenic—a necessary criterion for any animal she worked with—but she found it harder to breathe nonetheless.
The pigs had built nests for themselves with blankets, towels, whatever they could find. So if a lab coat was missing, it might easily have been pilfered by one of the pigs. Toby had found her hoodie in Twiggy’s nest the other day and Vikka’s purse was dragged away by Twiggy one time. The purse was angular and had big buckles—not very comfy—but the piglet took a liking to it anyway. After that, Vikka started keeping her purse on a hook by the door, high off the floor. Twiggy tried to jump up and get it, but couldn’t reach it. It was kind of funny.
Twiggy had also made a nest in a laundry basket in Toby’s bedroom at home. Ever since the first time Toby brain-linked with Twiggy, Toby hadn’t wanted to be separated from her, so Will had reluctantly allowed her to take Twiggy home. Now Twiggy slept on a nest of old dirty socks, t-shirts, and towels. Toby was happy to sacrifice a few of those to make her piglet comfortable. Like Toby, the little animal didn’t have a mother anymore.
Toby looked under the table in the lab where food was prepared for their drift of piglets and mischief of rats. A group of young pigs was called a “drift”; when they got older, they would be called a “sounder” of pigs.
Bricks had made a nest under the food table—that piglet was far more motivated by food than his sister. And, sure enough, the lab coat was shoved deep into the back of his nest, against the wall. It was also covered with some orange goo—leftover food?
“I don’t think you want it back, Dad,” Toby called out. “Bricky made it his own.”
Will walked in and Toby pointed under the table. “I wouldn’t want it,” she said.
“I’ll requisition another one.” Will didn’t look pleased. This wasn’t the first lab coat mishap.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?” Will turned to face his daughter. She had grown a lot in the last year. She had stretched out, lost some of that child-like look, and started to look more…more of everything.
“I’d like to go to the library this afternoon,” she said. She hesitated, but added, “I have a project and I—”
“Schoolwork?” Will asked. He’d relegated all educational responsibility to Vikka and he felt a twinge of guilt. But Vikka was a trained professional and he had so little time now that the major kept demanding more and more. “Does Vikka know about it?”
“Uh, sure,” Toby lied. She looked him straight in the eye and blanked her mind. It was a trick she’d learned from Rufus. Animals lied all the time, she had discovered, and they were good at it. Toby didn’t like lying to her father, but she needed to do some research at the library and she needed to do it away from the prying eyes of her minders.
“Sure, honey. Go ahead. We don’t have any experiments planned this afternoon. So you’re free until dinner.” Will turned back to the control room, minus his lab coat.
Toby returned to her office and texted a short note to Vikka that she was doing some studying outside. She grabbed her backpack and left the lab. Luckily, she didn’t run into any of the adults on the way out.
“She’s left the lab, so where is she?” Kyle asked Vikka in an accusatory tone. Kyle was far taller and broader than her, and physically intimidating. And he didn’t care that she was his commanding officer’s niece. As much as she didn’t like it, she felt cowed by the lieutenant.
“She sent me a text that she’s studying outside,” Vikka said. “Toby is not my prisoner,” she added, but it sounded weak even to her.
“No, but you are her guardian. You’re supposed to know where she is at all times. Give me your cell phone.”
“Why?” Vikka asked, but she was already handing it over.
“I want to see where she is. You’re tracking her, right?” Kyle asked this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What?”
“Location sharing? The option on your cell phone?” He navigated to Vikka’s text app and looked at the “details” setting for Toby.
“How did you get my password?” Vikka asked. She hadn’t shared it with anyone, even her uncle. In fact, Uncle Geo had told her to frequently change her password and she had been.
Kyle ignored her question. “You didn’t set up location sharing,” he said, handing her phone back.
“I didn’t realize I had to,” Vikka said defensively. “We’re on a university campus. It’s a good neighborhood and very safe. If Toby wants to go sit out in the sun for a bit, she’s allowed. She’s not a little kid anymore, for God’s sakes.” Now she was angry. Why was he barging in on her? Who did he think he was, demanding things of her?
“Come with me,” Kyle said, turning to go.
“Come where?” Vikka asked. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him.
“We’re going to go find her.”
“Why? She said she’d be right back.” But even as Vikka protested, she found herself following the man, doing as he said. Kyle had that effect on people.
“The girl is very sick. She’s only twelve. And she’s the best Brats rider in the world. Do you need more reasons?”
Vikka shook her head and followed Kyle from the building.
The main quad at the center of the campus was a large, concrete open space dotted with benches and trees. At its center was the main library building, four stories high that covered an area larger than half a city block in size. Toby knew an underground level had been hollowed out directly underneath the quad for even more books and archives.
Toby headed right for the library. She hadn’t deceived her father about her destination; her lie was about her reason for going there.
The library was shaped like a donut, pierced in the center with a large open area that was covered with a roof. Toby entered that central area and looked up. She felt dwarfed by its tall ceiling and the rings of balconies on the floors above. Long, two-sided desks radiated from the middle of the room like spokes of a wheel, and students sat everywhere, working on their computers. Only a few referenced physical books. At the very center of the room stood a wooden hexagonal help desk staffed by a student who looked to be busy with his homework. I guess people don’t need much help with reference materials in a physical library anymore, Toby thought.
Toby positioned herself in front of the grad student and waited for him to notice her. She felt awkward and anxious. She was surrounded by all these people she didn’t know and the space smelled unfamiliar. She could detect fear and unease, and she felt like her own feelings mirrored, and were perhaps even amplified by, the emotions of all these students cramming for exams.
When the student finally looked up, Toby tried to repress her anxiety. “Hello,” she said. It came out thin and timid. She tried again, louder. “Hello!” Her voice echoed around the vast room. The student gave her an angry look and she cowed under his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“How can I help you?” he said. He closed his laptop computer, de
monstrably giving Toby his full attention.
“I was…I was…”
“Sent here by a teacher to do a science project?” He sounded like he’d had to deal with other kids today already. But that was good; Toby could use that.
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “I have to do a report on addiction.”
“And you would like me to help you find the books?”
“If you don’t mind.”
He looked like he minded very much, but he got up, slid his computer into his backpack, and motioned for Toby to follow. “Drugs, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your science paper, it’s on drugs? Or tobacco addiction?”
“Oh,” Toby said. “It doesn’t have to be just about drugs. I was more interested in addictive behaviors. Is there a more general category? I was hoping to research brain changes as the result of addiction. Something on neurotransmitters? Dopamine receptor dampening?”
The student led her to the back of the library hall and waved vaguely at the side aisles that contained periodicals. “The latest articles are kept here.” He pointed to a section labeled Neuroscience Research. “But you might have more luck looking this stuff up online.”
“Oh, can I do that?” Toby asked. “I don’t have a computer with me.”
“There are terminals by the wall on the second floor. But you need a university ID.” The student gave her an indecipherable look.
Toby smiled and pulled her ID from the inside of her sweatshirt, attached to a lanyard around her neck. She needed the ID to get around the lab; it worked as a card key to get into secure research areas.
“You’re one of those,” he said. “I thought so.”
