by Joe McKinney
‘But you’re clever too, right?’
‘Suppose. I passed all my exams. Mom took more exams than me though.’
‘So you got beaten by a girl?’
‘Not beaten. It’s not a competition. And anyway, it’s not a girl, it’s the girl. Your mom is truly gifted.’
‘And she’s going to save the world?’
‘That’s what she keeps telling me, and if that’s what she says, then that’s what she’ll do.’
‘Will we see more of her when she’s done?’
‘I expect so.’
#
It’s gone nine by the time Gill gets home. Joe tried to stay awake to see her, but he’s spark out. She carefully opens the door and creeps into the apartment like a kid back late from a party they weren’t supposed to go to. And the first thing she sees is me sitting there like a parent about to hit the roof. For a second she looks concerned.
‘Sorry, Simon,’ she says, kicking off her shoes and draping her coat over the back of a chair.
‘It’s all right,’ I tell her, and I mean it. She’s under a huge amount of pressure right now. As long as she’s okay I don’t care what time she comes home. There’s a weight of expectation on her shoulders and I can barely imagine how it must feel. ‘You hungry?’
‘Starving.’
I get up and stretch, feeling guilty because I fell asleep in front of the TV just now. I warm her dinner in the microwave, pour her a glass of wine, then take it all through. She’s waiting at the table, her head in her hands.
‘Thank you. You had a good day?’ she asks, yawning.
‘Fine.’
‘Joe okay?’
‘Yeah, he’s okay. He tried to stay up but didn’t make it.’
‘I didn’t know I was going to be this late.’
‘You say that most nights.’
She smiles with resignation, and reaches across and squeezes my hand. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘Tough day?’
‘You could say that. I can’t seem to get it through to those dumb fuckers that if they want results, I need to be left to get on with the work. Interrupting me every couple of days for progress reviews and demanding endless reports won’t help anyone, you know?’
‘I know, but this is the military we’re dealing with don’t forget.’
‘I don’t know which are worse, the morons in Defence or the politicians. I hate them all the same.’
‘You’re getting there though, right?’
She nods her head and drinks more wine. ‘I think so. They want everything delivered yesterday. They don’t seem to understand how long something like this takes. I can’t work any faster, and I’m not working more hours.’
‘There aren’t any hours left to work.’
‘You know what I mean, Si. It would help if I wasn’t surrounded by grunts all the time. If they thought more about the process and less about the end result we’d probably have fewer arguments and we’d get there much quicker.’
‘You think they’re getting annoyed because you’re moonlighting?’
‘I’m not moonlighting. You have to stop saying that.’
‘Okay, but you are using their funding and resources to develop something that’s not for the military.’
‘It’s a double-edged sword. Same overall process, two very different applications.’
‘Try explaining that to your grunts.’
‘I have, believe me.’
‘I can see why they might get pissed off, though. All that cash they’ve thrown your way, and you have the audacity to actually want to help people, not kill them?’
I stop talking when she puts down her fork and glares at me. ‘Are you deliberately trying to wind me up?’
‘Yes. Is it working?’
‘Beautifully.’
‘Good. I love it when you’re angry. Have I ever told you how sexy I think you look in your lab coat? I wish you’d order me about the same way you do poor old Alfie.’
‘Don’t even get me started on Alfie. He drives me to distraction. He’s a stereotypical science nerd, you know? Great ability, fantastic qualifications, but no common sense. I don’t know how he functions in the real world. Do you know what he did today?’
‘No, and I don’t want to. Finish your dinner, drink too much wine, then come to bed with me.’
#
It’s hard to sleep when you haven’t done a lot all day. I used to feel incredibly guilty, but I’m slowly getting used to it. It’s just the way it has to be for now.
It’s late and I can’t sleep. I look across at Gill lying next to me. She was out the second her head hit the pillow. Things won’t always be this way, but I know it’s how it has to be for now. You’re a kept man, she teases me daily. Make the most of it. Enjoy it while it lasts.
#
Joe loves coming to the lab. Gill was gone by the time he woke up this morning. When she called at lunchtime and told me it was going to be another late night, I decided to pick up the kid from school and bring him straight over here so we can all spend a little time together. If the mountain won’t come to Mohammad, etcetera etcetera.
The lab always reminds me of something out of a David Cronenberg movie. This downtown area is ripe for investment and redevelopment, and it looks like something’s finally happening. There’s a lot of construction traffic and signage around that wasn’t here last week. It’s about time.
The building itself looks like little more than a dilapidated shell from the outside, appearing almost on the verge of dereliction, and I guess that was half the appeal. You’d never suspect that anything with the potential to be world-changing could happen in a shit-hole like this. If you asked anyone where the major scientific developments were being made in this city, they’d all point you in the direction of the gleaming glass and metal spires at the high end of town. They couldn’t be more wrong. Those places are filled with bankers and other people who think they’re important but aren’t. This is where the real advances are being made.
We park the car and I walk Joe down the dingy back-alley to the building entrance, gripping his hand tight just in case. With tall blocks on either side, it’s dark here even in daylight.
The lobby of the building smells of piss, stale-beer, and other things I don’t even want to think about. The lift’s temperamental and Joe never feels safe in the rattling metal cage so we take the stairs to the top floor. He runs on ahead, leaving me behind, carrying the pizza. I can hear his footsteps thumping on the steps and occasionally I see a flicker of movement or a glimpse of his shadow so I know he’s okay. There’s no one else here. Three of the four floors are empty, and on the top floor there are PIN codes and biometric codes and good old-fashioned traditional locks and bolts preventing unauthorised access. Gill can’t afford to take any risks. This entire place can be locked down quicker than you can say ‘lock it down’.
He’s waiting for me on the gloomy landing, leaning against the door, waiting for me to enter my PIN. We go through, the four, high-pitched bleeps and the clunk of the locking mechanism announcing our arrival. And here’s where things change. Beyond this corridor and the next strengthened door is another world. The lab cost a small fortune to design and install, and no expense was spared. In effect it’s a hermetically-sealed shell which was dropped into the top floor of the existing building. Within it are office, living and meeting spaces, and two further, even more rigorously sealed inner units. Gill and Alfie sometimes have to handle seriously dangerous shit in there. They can’t take any chances.
A second PIN and a retina scan and we’re almost inside. Light floods through the inch thick safety glass, spilling into the corridor.
‘I saw your number,’ Joe says.
‘You shouldn’t have been looking. Don’t tell Mom.’
He laughs. ‘Can you fix it so it takes pictures of my eye?’ he asks as I lean into the camera.
‘You’re too short,’ I tell him. ‘You’re only just tall enough to reach the handle. You need t
o grow first.’
He punches me and I push him through the door. Gill spots him straight away. ‘Hey you!’ she shouts, and he runs over. He jumps up and wraps his arms around her. I check the doors are locked behind me then go through, passing Alfie who’s working at a desk strewn with papers.
‘Evening, Simon,’ he says, glancing up from his computer screen for the briefest of moments.
‘You okay, Alfie?’
‘I’m fine,’ he replies with his typical, Vulcan-like lack of emotion. And that’s it. Conversation over.
‘You okay to take a break?’ I ask Gill. She’s already sitting on the sofa with Joe in the rest area. I take the pizza over and Joe dives in. ‘How are things? Had a better day?’
‘Much better,’ she answers. ‘No generals or bureaucrats to deal with today.’
‘Generals?’ Joe says, puzzled. ‘Generals are soldiers, aren’t they?’
Gill looks over at me before answering. ‘That’s right, honey.’
‘Why soldiers?’
‘There are lots of people interested in what we’re doing here.’
‘I know that, but why soldiers?’
Sometimes Joe acts older than his years. Most kids would just accept there are soldiers involved somewhere along the line and leave it at that. Not our boy. He needs more.
‘There are some nasty people in the world, you know that, don’t you?’ Gill says.
‘Of course I do. What’s that got to do with it?’
‘Can you remember what I’ve told you before about what we’re doing here?’
‘Not really. A little…’
‘Okay, so you know when you get sick and you go to the doctor, what happens?’
‘Time off school?’
‘That’s not what Mom means,’ I interrupt, and Joe flashes me a quick grin.
‘Medicine,’ he says.
‘Exactly,’ says Gill. ‘Right now, if you need medicine, the doctor can give you a pill or a capsule, maybe even a jab.’
‘I don’t like needles.’
‘I know you don’t. Neither does your dad,’ she continues, winking at me. Joe gorges on his pizza as Gill explains. ‘You know how you sometimes hear about diseases going crazy? It happens in other countries usually. Pandemics. Have you heard that word?’
‘Don’t think so.’
‘You remember last year when half your class was off with a cold at the same time?’ I ask him.
‘I remember.’
‘Well a pandemic is like that but much, much worse. Lots of people getting really sick at the same time.’
‘Sometimes the reason that happens is because we can’t get enough medicine to enough people,’ Gill says, ‘either because it’s too expensive or too dangerous. So what we’re doing here is trying to find a way of giving those people their medicine and making them better without having to give them pills or shots. Does that make sense?’
‘I think so, but how else can you give it to them?’
‘In the air,’ she explains. ‘That’s what we’re trying to do. Just pump it into the sky so it can make everyone better at once.’
He chews on his pizza and nods thoughtfully.
‘Your mom’s pretty smart, isn’t she?’ Alfie says, finally coming over and helping himself to a slice.
Joe nods. ‘I still don’t get why there were soldiers here though.’
Gill looks across at me again. How much do we tell him? How much does he need to know?
‘The world can be a rough place at times, son,’ I say. ‘People fall out and start fighting.’
‘Don’t patronise me, Dad. I know about wars.’
‘Never mind that, when did you find out what patronise means?’
Gill takes over. ‘So our soldiers try not to start these fights, but they have to do what they can to look after people like us, don’t they?’
He thinks about what she’s said. ‘So they want what you’re making so they can spread bad medicine, is that it? To sort out all the bad people who start all the fights?’
‘That’s one option,’ Alfie says with his usual lack of tact. Gill jumps in quick.
‘Sometimes bad people try to use diseases to make innocent people sick. They’re terrorists, Joe. You’ve heard that word before, right? What we’re doing is making something that’ll stop those germs from working. Kind of like a shield. It’ll stop the bad stuff getting through. Understand?’
‘Think so.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yep. I need to pee.’
With that he jumps up and disappears into just about the only other room he can get into here without a PIN code or military-level clearance.
‘You think he’s okay with all of that?’ I ask Gill.
‘Joe’s a smart kid. He can tell when someone’s avoiding answering his questions. Best to tell him straight.’
‘He’ll probably talk at school.’
‘I’ll get him to sign a non-disclosure form.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘So what if he does? To be honest, Si, I bet he already has. Thing is, no one will believe him. He could give them the address of this place and it wouldn’t matter. Anyone coming here would take one look and think he was making it all up.’ She looks up as Joe comes running back over and reaches for another slice of pizza. ‘Did you wash your hands?’
‘Yep,’ he says, though he probably hasn’t. Gill pulls him close and holds him tight.
‘Enough about my boring work, what have you been up to today sunshine?’
#
I drop Joe off at school first thing then run a few mundane errands, trying to avoid going back home because I know there’s equally mundane stuff waiting there that I don’t want to do. I missed a call from Gill while I was filling up the car. I’m in the neighbourhood, so I drive over to the lab to see her. There’s a car I don’t recognise parked in the alleyway next to Gill’s and Alfie’s. Unusual plates. Dark windows. Sinister looking.
‘Who the hell’s this?’ some stuffed suit demands when I get upstairs and let myself into the lobby area of the lab.
‘This is my husband, Simon,’ Gill tells him. She looks flustered and angry.
‘And he has full access to your research and facilities?’ the suit continues, talking about me as if I’m not here.
‘No, though he does have some limited access,’ she tries to explain. ‘Simon sometimes helps out with processing and data entry, and occasionally transcribes my notes. It’s all authorised. He has the right clearance levels and he’s been background checked.’
‘Does the General know about this?’
‘I haven’t made a point of telling him, but he appreciates we need some level of administrative support. Look, Simon and I have a son. Simon looks after him so I can work full-time. I’m here all hours so it just wouldn’t be feasible not to allow—’
‘I’m not happy about this.’
I’m conscious that I’m standing in the middle of this discussion like a spare prick at a wedding. I offer the guy my hand, but he doesn’t react.
‘This is Mr Jenkins,’ Gill says, ‘one of General Nicholls’ team. He was just leaving.’
That explains it. I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe that was why Gill called, to tell me to stay away? I should have checked first.
‘I’ll get out of the way.’
Even from the living space on the other side of the lab I can still hear everything. Jenkins’ voice is naturally loud, and Gill is clearly exasperated. I try to talk to Alfie but he stays focused on his work, not wanting to get involved.
‘This is just symptomatic of the kind of issues we’re having with your approach here.’
‘But does it matter? If you’re getting results then—’
‘We’re not getting results though, are we?’
‘We’re just a few months away from finishing this now, Jenkins. Years of progress and it’s just a matter of weeks before we can give you everything you’ve—’
‘Sa
ve your breath, Dr Huxtable, we’ve been through this before. You know our position now. We’ll talk again tomorrow when you’ve had time to consider the options.’
And with that he’s gone. Gill walks him down to his car. I watch from the window as he disappears, then wait for her to return. She seems to take forever coming back up to the top floor.
‘What was all that about?’ I ask.
‘They’re shutting us down,’ she says, in tears. ‘They’re pulling our funding. We’re so close, Simon, but it’s not good enough for them. They think they have enough experience and data to take the project on in-house.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
She slumps down into the nearest chair. ‘How much did you hear?’
‘Not much.’
‘They’ve given me an ultimatum. I can walk away from all of this, or I can go and work for the General on his terms. Not much of a choice, really.’
‘You didn’t answer my question. Those are the options they’ve given you, but what are you going to do? What do you want to do?’
‘I can’t go and work for the military, Si, I just can’t. The second I sell out and jump in bed with them exclusively is the second the rest of my research dies. The vaccination applications, the humanitarian aspects of what we’re doing here… all that will be forgotten. Oh, sure, they’ll tell me otherwise to keep me sweet, but we both know it’ll happen. I can’t turn my back on what we’ve been doing here, Simon, you know I can’t.’
‘You knew this would happen eventually though.’
‘But we were so close…’
‘So what happens next?’
She sighs and looks up at the ceiling. ‘I’ve only been able to keep working because the military were bankrolling us. Without their cash I’m screwed. I mean, they’ll give me a pay off and as long as they’ve got the research Jenkins says they’ll negotiate on these premises, let me stay a while longer…’
‘So do that. How much longer do you need?’
‘How long’s a piece of string?’
‘Well are we talking weeks, months or years?’
‘Six months maybe. A year at the outside.’
‘And can we do it? Can we afford it with what they’re giving you?’
‘No way. I’ve got maybe a third of what I need.’