ENTRANCE
“Well, well, let me have a look at you. Wow, you really are divine. The pair of you. Even more so than they promised. And did they make promises? Did they ever! On and on they went about your beauty, your flawless faces. Are you really not wearing any enhancers? Amazing. Skin like polished marble. I could almost convince myself I was looking at a modified projection. This is going to be an interview that the viewers will not soon forget.”
The woman in front of me is speaking so rapidly, I find myself struggling to keep up. Her sharp, clipped accent sounds exactly as it does on the Feed.
“Oh, dear me. Where are my manners? I’m Mosima Chan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She extends her hand and shakes both of ours in turn.
I’ve always liked watching Mosima on the Feed, but in person, she’s positively dazzling. Every facet of her. Down to the way her toes lightly tap the floor when she speaks, as though she’s keeping time with the rhythm of her own words.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Chan,” Kaelen says. “Sera and I are big fans of your show.”
I’m still too overwhelmed to say anything original or creative, so I echo Kaelen’s well-articulated sentiments. “Yes. Very big fans.”
She places her hand to her heart. “Well, that just melts me to hear you say that. Just melts me to a puddle. Thank you. And please, call me Mosi. That’s what my friends call me.” She winks. I think it’s meant to be directed at both of us, but I notice how her eyes linger a beat longer on Kaelen.
“So,” she goes on, clapping her hands together once. “We don’t have much time to chat. Gotta save all the good stuff for the viewers, right? So let’s get you miked and synced up. Seres, my segment producer, will help you with that. I’m sure they’ve told you but I’ll be interviewing Dr. Alixter, your humble creator, first. Ha! That’s amusing to say. Creator! And then I’ll be inviting both of you on to offer some commentary about your life, your goals, et cetera, et cetera. Sound good?”
She touches a hand to her ear and I assume someone is talking to her through an earplant. “Up, up. Gotta run.” She gives each of us a quick squeeze on the arm and then she’s gone, zipping toward the stage where she takes a seat in the large red chair I recognize from all of her Feed interviews.
A tall willowy man appears a moment later. His head is shaved and covered in dizzying nanotats. From the looks of it, he’s a big fan of animated shows. The kind I thought were produced mainly for children.
“I’m Seres,” the man says with a thick accent that I immediately identify as Croatian. “I’m the segment producer.”
“Drago mi je,” I say with a smile.
He blinks and freezes for a moment. “You speak Croatian?”
“Govorimo svaki jezik,” answers Kaelen without missing a beat, informing Seres that we, in fact, speak every language.
Seres is impressed. Even so, he continues to speak to us in English.
“Now, remember. Don’t look into the cams, even when they’re right in front of you, yes? Mosi will speak to the viewers. You will speak to Mosi. If you’ve been given any prewritten scripts to memorize, throw them out now. Viewers can tell when you’re reciting a line. Natural and organic is better, yes?”
He secures a tiny orange dot to the front of my dress. I watch, intrigued, as the bright color gradually fades and blends into the fabric beneath it.
Nanoflage technology.
“Your mic,” Seres explains as he attaches a similar orange dot to Kaelen’s shirt. “So the viewers can hear you. And these”—he hands us each a tiny silver disc and mimes positioning it just outside the ear—“so you can hear Mosi and the rest of the production team.”
I watch Kaelen secure his into place and I follow suit. Like the mics, the speaker disc adapts to match the color of our skin.
“Larn, in the booth, should be syncing up your Lenses,” he goes on. “Tell me when you can see the test capture, yes?”
A second later, a fat brown-and-black-striped furry creature licking its paws pops into the corner of my vision. “I—” I start to say, unsure what I’m looking at.
“It’s Mosi’s cat,” Seres says with a roll of his eyes. “Trust me, not my choice.”
“No, if it were your choice, we’d all be watching men take their pants off while we wait for syncs,” Mosima calls from her chair, evidently having heard our entire exchange. Seres turns around and sticks his tongue out. She grins broadly in return.
“Three minutes,” Seres trills. “Okay, Larn says you’re all synced up to our network. If we need to send you any information or cues, they’ll come through your Lenses or your speakers, okay?”
“Where do we stand before we walk on?” Kaelen asks.
Seres glances at Mosima. “You didn’t tell them about the entrance?”
She lets out a giddy giggle and teeters over to us. “I almost forgot. I asked Dane not to spoil the surprise. I wanted to tell you myself as it was my idea.”
I get an inkling I’m not going to like what’s coming next.
“We thought it would be fun—and appropriate—for you to have a big entrance. You know, flash and pomp! To really make an impression on the viewers.”
Kaelen and I exchange nervous glances.
“And we wanted to come up with something that represents your unique origins.”
Definitely not going to like this.
With a capricious flash of sparkly white teeth, she points toward the ceiling. Kaelen and I look up in unison at two giant transparent spheres floating above the main stage.
“How memorable will it be when the two of you arrive into the world—descending from the heavens—in those?”
Memorable? Maybe.
Ridiculous? Absolutely.
I look to Kaelen, who is nodding politely, but I can tell he’s just as put off by the idea as I am.
“When Dane sent me the captures of that fascinating synthetic womb you were grown in, I was struck with an idea.” Mosima is still jabbering away even though the clock projected on the window of the control booth above us says we are live in ninety-one seconds. She makes a large sweeping gesture with her hand. “This is your Unveiling. Your birth into the human race. When you emerge from the glass eggs, it will be like you’re emerging from the womb!”
“Well—” Kaelen begins, but if he’s about to voice his opposition, he’s not given the chance.
Mosima lets out a squeak. “Eek! Eighty seconds! Seres will help you into the eggs.” She blows kisses to both of us as she scurries back to the stage. “See you soon, my treasures!”
I look to the control booth where Dane, Crest, and Director Raze are watching. Dane catches my eye and gives me an encouraging smile. Did he really approve this?
“Right this way,” Seres is saying, and before long, Kaelen and I are following him up a spiral staircase to a platform above the stage. Below us, Mosima is getting comfortable in her red chair while Dr. A sits nearby, looking completely relaxed and at home. As though this is something he does every day.
“After Mosi is finished interviewing Dr. Alixter, we will trigger the eggs to descend. You’ll step out—looking graceful, of course—and take a seat on the couch to her right, yes?”
We nod.
The doors of the “eggs” are already open and Seres motions for us to climb in. I peer at Kaelen, who gives me a surrendering shrug in response.
“¿Qué vas a hacer?” he says in Spanish.
“Nada.” I surrender with a sigh.
I step through the opening and position my feet on the narrow plank that’s been built across the bottom. Seres swipes a nearby panel and the eggs seal shut, locking us inside. I gently run my fingertips across the smooth, transparent surface where the door once was. Not even a ridge or seam. It must be synthoglass. Airtight, soundproof, and nearly impenetrable.
Which means we’re stuck in here until someone decides to let us out.
A small metal canister is secured to the roof of the ball. I assume
it’s producing oxygen because the air in here smells fresh.
The clock on the control booth window counts down to twenty seconds.
Twenty seconds?
Is that it?
My stomach flips and I’m suddenly acutely aware of how momentous this really is. Up until now, being kept a secret was such a huge part of my identity. For so long, I was the girl who could never be seen. Who the world couldn’t know about. But in less than twenty seconds, that will all be over.
Ever since I returned to the compound and Dr. A told me about the Objective, I knew this day would eventually come. But then, it was just an idea. A futuristic fantasy. Now the future is upon us.
There’s no turning back after this, is there? You can’t possibly erase a memory from twelve billion minds.
“He’s figured out how to work the distributor.” Mosima’s effervescent voice drifts into my ear. I look down to see a stylist touching up her hair. She must be speaking to him. “So he just sits around and drinks milk all day. I can’t figure out how to stop him. That’s why he’s so fat.” It takes me a moment to realize she’s still talking about her cat. She closes her eyes so the stylist can paint more powder on her lids.
“Are you ready for this?”
Now I have no idea who she’s addressing. It could be Kaelen and me. It could be the technicians in the booth. It could be Dr. A sitting next to her. Maybe it’s all of us.
If it were up to me, I would say no. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready for this. I wasn’t built for feedcasts and public appearances and changing the world with my mere existence.
But it’s never been up to me. And it’s too late anyway.
The stage goes dark, and I hear Seres call out, “We’re live in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6…”
Hoverlamps and tiny cams start to move beneath me, zigzagging gracefully in the air in a well-rehearsed dance, never missing a step, never colliding. One bulb in particular lowers and twists, pausing just short of Mosima’s head.
Seres’s menacing countdown continues to echo in my skull. “5, 4, 3…”
Three seconds until my anonymity is gone forever.
Three seconds until Kaelen and I become the most unforgettable faces in the world.
In three seconds nothing will be the same.
There’s a hushed, anticipatory silence. I never hear Seres say 2 or 1. Maybe it’s implied. Maybe nobody really misses them.
But I feel cheated out of those last two seconds.
22
FALSIFY
Music plays.
It’s the familiar song that commences every segment on AFC. An electronic five-note chime with a soft syncopated drum line underneath. A hoverlamp illuminates Mosima’s polished face. Through my Lenses, I can see her the way the viewers at home do. The way I’m used to seeing her when I watch the Feed on the compound. I suppose I should be accustomed to the illusion the Lenses project, making it look like she’s directly in front of me, talking only to me. But now that I can see the reality offset below, it’s unnerving.
Her expression is serious, almost grave as she starts the show. “Welcome to The Morning Beat on AFC Streamwork, your number one source for breaking news and real-time world updates. I’m Mosima Chan.”
There’s a pause. The cams zip around her, repositioning themselves.
“Three weeks ago, AFC reported on some of the most shocking and groundbreaking scientific news ever to be revealed in human history. Diotech Corporation, the largest scientific research and development company in the world, released an official statement claiming that they had synthetically engineered two enhanced human beings in a laboratory. Referring to them as ‘ExGens’ or ‘Next Generation Humans,’ Diotech asserts that these two genetically perfected specimens represent the next stage of superhuman evolution, pioneered entirely by science.”
My eyes dart to the control booth. Crest catches my eye and gives me a smile.
“Today in the studio,” Mosima continues, “I have the distinct pleasure not only of welcoming the president of Diotech Corporation and the man behind this historical scientific breakthrough, but later on in the segment, we will be revealing the ExGens themselves for the first time ever, and speaking directly to them. So viewers at home, get your questions ready! I had the privilege of meeting them briefly right before we went live and I can tell you, they are truly remarkable. But first, help me welcome the founder and president of Diotech Corporation, Dr. Jans Alixter.”
A hoverlamp glides in front of Dr. A, illuminating his face. The bulb is so bright, I expect him to cower or, at the very least, squint, but he is the embodiment of poise. He smiles at the floating cam that arcs in front of him, and even gives a little wave.
In that moment, I almost don’t recognize him.
He’s not the short-tempered, grudge-bearing Dr. A who I encounter on a daily basis. This man appears approachable, even charming as he thanks Mosima for inviting him to the interview.
“I’m very excited to talk to you today,” Mosima gushes. “And I’m eager to show the viewers exactly what you’ve created. But first, let’s talk a little bit about the history of this project.” She blinks twice, accessing something on her Lenses. “My notes tell me that you’ve dubbed it the Genesis Project. That’s rather biblical for a scientific research company.”
I cringe waiting for Dr. A’s reaction. Mentions of religion always set him off. Everything that man does is an intentional slap in the face of the Church. He even named the company Diotech because it means God’s science, knowing it would upset all the religious leaders who have ever voiced their opposition to his work.
But his unflappable demeanor never slips, even for a second. In fact, he laughs. It sounds completely genuine. I wonder if Dane has been training him as well or if he’s simply a natural at this.
“You’re right, Ms. Chan. It is fairly biblical. With good reason. When we set out to engineer the first human being ever to be created entirely by science, we wanted to choose a title that would serve to illustrate how connected we still feel to the higher power. We aren’t trying to replace God with the projects we initiate at Diotech. We’re trying to work in conjunction with God. God created Adam and Eve in much the same way that we created Sera and Kaelen.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
How many times have I listened to Dr. A denounce the Church, claiming that God is a fantasy? A made-up entity to explain things that were once unexplainable? He even told me that science is the “new God.” Except smarter and without the jealous nature.
Which means …
He’s lying.
It’s suddenly clear to me. He’s lying right to Mosima’s face. And to all of the viewers watching.
Does that mean I’m supposed to lie, too?
Dane told us to tell the truth. To speak from our hearts. To show the viewers how real we could be.
Dr. A seems to be doing exactly the opposite.
“Sera and Kaelen,” Mosima echoes. “Those are unusual names. Do they have any specific meaning?”
“Of course,” Dr. A says. “We don’t do anything at Diotech that doesn’t have significant meaning. It’s our mission statement to make the world a better place. And to do that, you have to start with well-intentioned goals. Sera is an alternate spelling of the biblical name Sarah. We wanted to give it a modern twist. Sera was created first. She was our scientific miracle. Life created right before our eyes. It was quite a thing to see.”
Another lie.
Sera wasn’t even originally a name. It was the sequence of genetic code that led to a successful life-form. Sequence: E/Recombination: A.
S:E/R:A.
I’m reminded of this every time I walk by that DigiPlaque in the hallway outside my bedroom.
“Kaelen was engineered a year and a half later,” Dr. A continues, “using a similar genetic blueprint as Sera but with some important tweaks made to give him his own personality and unique spirit. I named him after my mother. Her name was Gaelen. She died in childbirth
.”
I never knew the origin of Kaelen’s name. I’m not even sure Kaelen did.
And did Dr. A’s mother really die giving birth to him?
After the last two lies, how can I be certain anything he’s saying is true?
I turn to study Kaelen. The lamps from the stage glow under his handsome face. His mouth is frozen in a slack smile and his aquamarine eyes are sparkling as they stare downward in admiration.
There’s simply no other way to describe his expression.
I’ve seen it on Kaelen’s face in the past, nearly every time he looks at Dr. A. But I’ve never seen it quite so intense before. As though the world could explode outside this studio and Kaelen wouldn’t even blink.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mosima condoles. “It seems natural childbirth is so risky these days. I suppose it’s why many parents opt for alternate methods of bringing life into the world. Methods that I know you at Diotech have been pioneering for years.”
Dr. A nods, wiping hastily at his eyes.
Is he crying?
“It’s been important to me that no child should have to unnecessarily lose his mother the way I did. The artificial wombs that we released into the marketplace have been extremely popular. Far more so than surrogates were in their heyday. Parents can now travel, work, stay out late, eat and drink whatever they want, while the fetus is safely at home, receiving all the necessary nutrients and care it needs to grow into a healthy baby.”
Mosima reaches out to touch Dr. A’s hand. “I can see this topic is a sensitive one for you.”
He nods.
“My reports tell me that Sera and Kaelen were grown, for lack of a better word, in wombs not too dissimilar to those currently on the market.”
“That’s correct,” says Dr. A. “Although, because Sera was gestated to full maturity at age sixteen, and Kaelen at age seventeen, the technology of their gestation chamber is significantly more advanced. The artificial wombs available to consumers gestate a newborn baby in the same forty weeks it would take a mother to carry the infant to full term. On the other hand, the more advanced womb used in the Genesis Project is able to birth a fully grown teenage or adult human in only thirty-seven days.”
Unchanged Page 10
