Ghost Species

by James Bradley

  ‘Not. Or not yet?’

  ‘This one is in Davis’s wheelhouse.’

  ‘Surely you have some sway. Or aren’t you two messenger buddies anymore?’ As the words leave her mouth she regrets the edge of bitterness in her voice.

  Jay glances around. ‘The only reason he didn’t send the police after you was because I talked him down.’

  Kate looks out at Eve. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.

  ‘Are you?’ he asks, a tremor of anger in his voice. ‘Really? Because you don’t sound it.’

  She begins to answer but he lifts his hand to stop her. ‘Don’t. Just don’t.’ For a second or two she thinks he is going to continue but instead he just shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he speaks again his voice is calmer.

  ‘Jesus, Kate. Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?’

  ‘So you could talk me out of it?’

  ‘Obviously. But perhaps we could have found another way, one that wouldn’t have had such drastic consequences.’

  ‘I didn’t plan it. It just happened.’

  There is a moment of silence.

  ‘I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.’

  Kate doesn’t reply. Finally Jay looks at her, his dark eyes liquid.

  ‘What about us? Didn’t it occur to you I might be worried? What you just disappearing might do to me?’

  There is a moment of silence.

  ‘That was what you were doing, wasn’t it? Leaving me?’

  Kate nods.

  ‘Are you sorry?’

  She doesn’t reply.

  Jay looks away for a few seconds. When he turns to her again his face is harder. ‘I suppose at least I knew you weren’t dead.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Jay laughs. ‘You don’t think we didn’t know where you were, do you? Davis found you within days. We’ve been monitoring you ever since.’

  Something goes cold in Kate’s stomach. ‘What?’

  ‘Come on, Kate. You must have realised. Hiding is impossible these days.’

  For a brief second something in Jay’s stance, his expression, reminds her of Davis, his contempt for the idea he might not be entitled to behave exactly as he chooses. Remembering this is about Eve and not her, she does not retaliate.

  ‘Where is Davis?’ she asks. ‘Is he here? Does he know we’re talking?’

  ‘Of course.’ He steps away from the cupboard on which he has been leaning. ‘I have to go.’

  Kate’s legs tremble. ‘What? You’re not going to take her.’

  Jay looks at her. ‘No. We’re not. But you can’t stay here either. Tomorrow you’ll both come to the facility and we’ll work out what happens next.’ He takes a phone from his pocket and places it on the table. ‘This is for you. We’ll use it to call you.’ Turning back to the window he glances at Eve a last time.

  ‘And Kate? We’re going to leave a security detail outside, so we know you’re safe.’

  After Jay leaves, Kate stands in the kitchen. She is cold, in shock. Outside in the yard Eve is digging with a stick: on another day Kate might have gone out and joined her, but instead she just stands, staring, not really seeing her. The house is silent, still, the light almost emptied out of it. She walks through to the front room and looks out; through the leaves she sees the roof of a black car and knows Jay was telling the truth.

  At the other end of the house the door bangs.

  ‘It’s dark,’ Eve says from behind her, her words hesitant, clumsy.

  ‘I know,’ Kate says, turning to face her and forcing a bright smile. Eve’s vision is better than hers in low light, her large eyes more receptive.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Kate asks. But Eve is already moving ahead of her, through the living room and back to the kitchen.

  Eve draws while Kate cooks dinner. Sometimes Kate wonders at the way these routines both sustain and entrap her, the way their daily sameness is itself a kind of love, a kind of being. This house, their life together. Now, though, their presence here seems freighted with sadness, an awareness this is the last time they will be together in this place.

  Perhaps Eve senses her mood, because she is difficult to settle, insisting Kate read not one or two but three books, then getting up repeatedly to follow her back through to the living area after her light is turned off, and clinging to her, her body like a tiny seal, when she tries to leave.

  In the quiet of the kitchen Kate sits at the table and stares at the phone Jay left. The only noise comes from the occasional car or a truck on the road outside. Had Jay been serious when he said they had known where she was since the beginning? The idea makes her feel sick. And angry. Yet still, it doesn’t make sense. If they knew where Eve was, why not come to find her? She stands up, stares out into the darkness. The past two years have not been easy for Gather. Although the company’s influence is largely undiminished, it has been rocked by a series of scandals involving its use of private data, failure to regulate hate speech and extremist groups, and violation of lobbying and donation laws in countries around the world, including revelations Gather executives knowingly misled a Parliamentary Committee in the UK and lied under oath to lawmakers in Denmark. To some extent Gather’s travails are just one part of a larger story about the growing public anger about corporate power and its abuse, but the company’s woes have been compounded by Davis’s increasingly bizarre public appearances. Kate has seen the most notorious of them, an interview on an American chat show in which Davis talked in messianic terms about re-engineering human consciousness; watching him laugh abruptly and perform what he had clearly mistaken for charm, Kate was not surprised by the stories the company’s board are working to sideline him. At the time she wondered whether this sort of behaviour was an aberration or whether this was the same Davis she had known. Was it simply that he had allowed himself permission to stop pretending? And what did that mean for the project, for Eve?

  On the road below a glimmer of light is visible from the car Jay left. She stares at it, wondering how many guards are down there. She mentally reviews her escape plan. All she needs is the bag that sits, ready-packed, under her bed, the envelope of cash sewn inside the lining. She could wake Eve, walk out into the night, begin again.

  Yet she knows it would not work. If they found her once they will find her again. And more importantly, any chance she has of holding on to Eve would be lost. From the kitchen she hears the phone ping as a message arrives, but she does not check it, not yet, preferring to stand, staring out at the stars over the dark silhouettes of the trees, the shivering presence of the night.

  The car arrives at nine o’clock. Kate has dressed Eve in tights and the burgundy jumper with yellow bobbles she loves. In Eve’s room that morning she had considered what to pack. Taking out the rucksack she bought in the charity shop in town a few months ago, she had looked around, her eyes resting on the plastic owl lamp by the window, the stuffed lion on the bed, the patchwork blanket Eve could not sleep without. Sitting on the bed, she picked up Lion and turned his blue-eyed face to hers. The past three years suddenly seemed like a kind of fantasy, an intense dream that was only real in her mind. Squeezing Lion, she thought of Eve’s face that morning when she woke, the smell of her hair, and had to close her eyes in order not to cry.

  When she hears footsteps outside, Kate picks up the bag and takes Eve’s hand, uncomfortably aware of the way the child jumps at the knock on the door. Eve does not fully understand where they are going or why. All Kate has told her is that they are going to visit some people at the place she was born, information Eve seemed to receive and then immediately move past.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she reassures her as she opens the door. A man in the neat black uniform worn by the Foundation’s service staff is waiting outside. He tells Kate the car is ready, his manner carefully neutral.

  Eve does not struggle as Kate lifts her into the booster in the back seat, submitting quietly as the buckles are clipped and tightened. But when the car star
ts she whimpers, and Kate takes her hand. Nobody speaks. Out on the road the car is almost silent, its electric motor barely audible over the sound of the wind against the glass, the hum of the tyres on the asphalt. All morning she has been worried Eve would be afraid of the car or, possibly worse, fall asleep, leaving her confused and ill-tempered when they arrive, but that does not happen. Instead Eve sits quietly in her booster, staring out at the passing scenery, her face unreadable. As Eve has grown, Kate has come to understand all children are unknowable in this way. Perhaps Eve is unbothered by the idea of visiting the place she was born, perhaps she is bothered but does not know how to articulate or conceptualise her concern. Perhaps it is irrelevant to her, or simply not of interest.

  As they pull up Eve glances around, and for the first time a look of concern creases her forehead. Kate touches her face.

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ she says, forcing herself to sound positive.

  Jay is waiting when they step out, one hand behind his back. Although Kate knows Eve recognises him she does not show it, instead hanging back warily. Jay approaches and kneels down.

  ‘Do you know what I have?’ he asks.

  Eve keeps her face averted, unwilling to meet his eye.

  ‘Eve?’ Kate prompts her.

  Eve shakes her head.

  ‘Would you like to see?’ Jay asks.

  Eve gives a small nod, and smiling, Jay produces a white stuffed dog and holds it out to her.

  ‘Would you like it?’

  Eve looks at Kate for permission, her face full of wonder. Kate nods. Fighting the desire to clutch Eve’s hand tighter, she instead releases it. Eve reaches out tentatively and takes the dog.

  Jay stands and looks at Kate. The day before, she had found his simultaneous familiarity and strangeness disconcerting; today he seems less like the Jay she knew – sleeker, more guarded – and she has to remind herself to be wary around him.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asks.

  Kate forces herself to smile.

  ‘Of course,’ she says, and Jay takes Eve’s hand and leads her up the stairs.

  The facility is almost precisely as she remembers it: quiet, stately, more like some kind of international hotel or upmarket university building than a lab. In the foyer Eve looks up in amazement.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Jay asks.

  Eve’s eyes dart towards him in a way Kate knows means she is listening, but she does not answer. A door in front of them swings open and Mylin appears. She stops and stares at Kate with barely concealed hostility.

  ‘You remember Mylin?’ Jay asks.

  ‘Of course,’ Kate says. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ Mylin says coldly.

  ‘Mylin’s going to take Eve up to the lab,’ Jay says. As he speaks he directs Eve towards Mylin.

  Kate’s stomach gives a lurch. Although Jay assured her no decision has been made about removing Eve from her, the idea of handing her over to Mylin fills her with sudden foreboding.

  ‘Perhaps I should come as well?’ she says, her voice wavering.

  Jay steps forward. ‘I don’t think that’s necessary. You’ll be fine, won’t you, Eve?’

  Eve stares back at Kate, her eyes wide in her pale face.

  ‘Kate?’ Jay says.

  ‘You go,’ Kate manages to say. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  One hand in Mylin’s, Eve is led away. As the door closes behind them Jay gestures towards the lift. ‘Let’s go to the conference room. I assume you remember the way.’

  Jay leads her to the conference room in which they first discussed staffing with Davis. Kate remembers how cold that day was, her fingers and cheeks aching from the wind and rain, her sense she was only half-present in her body, that some essential part of her had been lost. As she takes a seat she wonders at how far away that self feels, how close.

  ‘No Davis?’ she asks.

  Jay shakes his head. ‘Some kind of crisis back at the hive.’

  Relieved an interview with Davis can be postponed, Kate smiles at the reminder of their private term for Gather’s Oakland campus.

  ‘I see the Siberian initiative is moving ahead.’

  Jay nods. ‘Davis has a lot invested in it. And some of the initial data has been encouraging.’

  ‘They’re your animals?’

  ‘Some of them.’

  ‘I’ve seen the chat-show footage as well.’

  He regards her, levelly. ‘Davis has been stretched very thin.’

  ‘So, what now?’ Kate asks.

  ‘We need to assess her. See what the tests show us.’

  ‘And what part do I have in that process?’

  ‘We need to get your perspective, obviously, but our priority is ensuring we’re able to study her effectively.’

  ‘She’s not a lab animal,’ Kate snaps.

  Jay glances at her. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘This is why I left in the first place. You want to observe her, study her, but nobody’s interested in her. What happens to her as she gets older? Is she going to go to school? Get a job? What about friends? She’s a child; she deserves a normal life.’

  ‘And you were giving that to her? You of all people should understand what it’s like to grow up isolated and afraid.’

  Kate falls still. All the air seems to have gone out of the room.

  ‘You know it’s not like that.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Then tell me what it is like. You stole her, Kate. Your actions put her in danger. And for what? Some fantasy she could grow up like a normal child? What were you intending to do? Enrol her in the local school? Let her join the band?’

  ‘Of course not. But she deserves to have normal social relations with other children.’

  ‘Human children.’

  ‘Sapient children.’

  ‘She could have had that here,’ Jay says.

  ‘You mean she could have played with the other pet Neanderthals. And how long would that have taken?’

  Jay looks uncomfortable.

  ‘What?’ Kate asks.

  ‘I should have told you yesterday. After you left, the project was wound up. Davis had us redirect our efforts into the Siberian initiative.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Exactly what I said. There were questions being asked about cost and reputational risk, especially after the British election. Davis thought we’d done what we set out to do. We had proof of concept.’

  ‘And you were okay with that?’

  Jay stares at her. ‘I didn’t really have a choice. And besides, my partner had just left me, and there were more than a few people around here who thought I wasn’t telling the whole truth about where she’d gone.’

  There is a moment of silence. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yes. So am I.’

  ‘She’s really the only one?’

  Jay nods.

  A profound sadness grips Kate. What has she done?

  ‘What will you do with her?’ she asks at last.

  ‘I want the best for her, Kate. We all do.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  Jay shrugs. ‘Professional support, structured learning. It will be good for her.’

  ‘And what about when she’s older? What happens then? Are we going to tell her where she came from? What she is?’

  ‘I think some of those decisions are probably best left until we know more about how she’s going to develop. But she’ll be supported financially whatever happens.’

  Kate takes a breath, imagining Eve at twenty, at forty, at sixty, still living here. Who will care for her when she and Jay and the others are gone?

  ‘And me? Do I have a part in that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Would you like to?’

  Kate stares at him. She knows this is the test this has been leading up to. ‘Of course. More than anything.’ She falters. ‘I know I went about this all wrong, but what’s done is done. I’m her mother, at least in her mind. She shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes. Or no more than she a
lready has.’

  Jay regards her carefully. ‘You’d need to agree to some conditions.’

  Kate stares at him. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Access would be one. And we’d need a guarantee you won’t disappear again.’ He watches her for a few seconds.

  ‘I’ve already told you I won’t.’

  ‘I think we’d need more than verbal assurances. There would need to be some kind of monitoring.’

  ‘What? Like an ankle bracelet?’

  Jay regards her levelly. ‘A subcutaneous chip.’

  ‘You’re kidding me?’ Kate says before she can stop herself.

  ‘No. The chip is non-negotiable. We’ll also need access to your online information so we can monitor it.’

  ‘And what do I get in return?’

  ‘You get to remain a part of the project. To be a part of her life.’ His voice cold.

  After the interview, Kate is led to a room separated from the lab next door by a one-way window. Taking a seat she watches as Mylin and another woman she does not recognise run tests on Eve.

  When she arrived the technician in attendance told her they had already taken blood, and conducted a full physical exam; now they have moved on to cognitive tests. While the other woman takes notes Mylin bends over Eve, watching as Eve traces her finger across the screen of a tablet. Eve’s mouth is open, her tongue twisted sideways as it often is when she is concentrating, accentuating her heavy brow and jaw. Kate aches at this small reminder of her difference, her vulnerability, the feeling like a yearning, a knowledge of loss. But Eve seems untroubled – no, more than that, she seems happy; at one point Mylin leans in and touches the screen as well, and Eve glances sideways at her and smiles, full of shy delight.

  Kate is surprised Eve is so relaxed with Mylin, but it is obvious they have struck up a real rapport. After another half hour or so Mylin stands up, and points Eve towards a door. Mylin ushers her through and then pauses to glance towards the glass, and Kate.

  Out in the hall Eve launches herself into Kate’s arms, almost knocking Kate off her feet. Kate grips her tight, squeezing her to herself, grateful for the weight and warmth of her.

  ‘What did you do?’ she asks, lifting her up so they are face to face.