An hour after Carrie had helped her get dressed, they sat with eyes wide open within the opulent dreamscape of Sirkus, two cocktails and a potent psychostimulant into a fierce conversation about work. Their balcony table overlooked a dance floor packed with swank socialites who were partying without a care in the world. The bar itself was a fusion of twenty-first-century cyberpunk melded with French neo-classical architecture and matching burlesque attire for the employees. Volumetric light shows featured largely naked male and female dancers, performing on poles, soaring through the air on cables, and offering drinks, drugs, and sex to patrons in secluded rooms that could be rented for a small fortune.
It was an anything-goes party for the bourgeois at its finest, and darkest. Viola and Carrie had been thrice propositioned already – by professionals of both sexes, and one intoxicated executive. But Viola, now wired on the stims, found herself talking incessantly about the Arkady, oblivious to the temptations around her.
‘Music!’ Viola exclaimed, between sips of her third cocktail. ‘Don’t tell a soul this, but I think they actually compose music!’
‘Oh, really?’ Carrie said, her deep brown eyes twinkling at some male specimen offering drinks to the women at the adjacent table. ‘Like what, club, techno, classical—?’
Viola stifled a giggle.
‘I mean, I haven’t mapped the patterns to musical notes yet, but the point is only the most advanced kinds of intelligence can do this … like, communicate for reasons that aren’t directly relevant to survival.’
Carrie gave her a blank expression, and Viola set her drink down to gesture freely.
‘Okay, so, on Earth, birds – you know what a bird is, right? Well, most of them used a variety of songs to serenade potential mates, protect their territory, and so on. I observed different groups of Arkady sturgeons within swarms emitting identical light sequences at regular intervals … It was actual tempo, like notes in a measure, not the frantic pulses we usually see when they converse individually—’
Carrie snapped away from her indulgence.
‘Wait, wait, wait. You mean those things chat with each other? Conversationally?’
‘Yes,’ Viola said, taking an enthusiastic sip from her drink. ‘Well … strictly speaking, that’s just a theory.’
‘What makes you think they can?’
Viola’s eyes darted sideways, and she leaned forward again. Carrie rolled her eyes and followed suit.
‘I’ve seen footage from trawlers all over Zeus. Some of them are violent, even tragic … but it’s fascinating. You can see the Arkady trying to outsmart point defences. They work together, use tactics, even diversions. They are far more intelligent than anyone knows …’
Carrie looked past her and frowned.
‘I swear that hot waiter keeps looking over here,’ she said.
But Viola was on Zeus now.
‘Only miners think they’re intelligent creatures,’ she said, gulping down the rest of the cocktail. ‘Isn’t that ironic?’
Carrie’s face paled.
‘Oh my God, look who it is.’
‘Who? The waiter?’ Viola stammered, holding up her glass. ‘Oh, good.’
Her friend straightened up and spoke through her teeth.
‘No – Travis Mareck is heading this way.’
Viola’s muscles tightened as Carrie smiled uncomfortably. The Merckon CEO approached and looked down at them, resplendent in his form-fitting attire, his eyes a dreadful mix of greed and desire. Accompanying him were two bodyguards – augmented mutants, judging from their size, and the hardware covering their eyes and ears.
‘What a pleasant surprise,’ he remarked. ‘I hope you find these arrangements satisfactory?’
Viola’s heart was pumping in her ears.
‘Yes, sir,’ she mumbled. ‘Thank you for this.’
‘I should be thanking you,’ he said warmly. But his charm dissolved as his eyes shifted to Carrie. ‘I’m afraid we haven’t met.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Viola said. ‘This is Carrie—’
‘Lin, who works in my legal department,’ Travis said. ‘I know who she is. I just said we haven’t met.’
Carrie cleared her throat.
‘Hello, Mr Mareck,’ she said, extending her hand. ‘Nice to meet you?’
Travis regarded her with disdain.
‘Has Miss Silveri told you anything you weren’t supposed to hear?’
Carrie’s cheeks flushed as red as a rose.
‘Excuse me?’ she staggered. ‘No, sir, not to my knowledge.’
Travis shook his head.
‘Tsk, tsk,’ he said. ‘Bad enough you indulged her, Viola. Now you’ve made her a liar as well.’
Suddenly, Carrie winced and clutched at her temples. As Travis looked on, she began shaking violently, her eyes rolling upwards, her hands clawed and locked in a seizure. Viola stood to help her, but was forced down by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She watched in horror as Carrie locked up one final time, then slumped onto the table – alive, as far as Viola could tell, but unconscious.
Viola noticed one of the guards slip something into his pocket.
‘Too much to drink,’ Travis sighed. ‘Happens to a lot of people their first time here.’
Some staff approached and scooped Carrie off her seat, hauling her away quietly. Travis sat in the vacated chair.
‘What did you do to her?’ Viola demanded. ‘Where are they taking her?’
‘In a few hours she’ll awaken in her home with a fierce headache and some amnesia,’ he shrugged. ‘Which, as it happens, is necessary to protect my intellectual property. You did tell her too much, Viola. I find that upsetting.’
‘I didn’t say anything of consequence,’ Viola said.
‘That isn’t yours to judge,’ he said, leaning back into the seat. ‘You and I have a mutual interest in maintaining the widespread belief that our research subjects are mindless, savage beasts. It isn’t like you to be so careless. That’s a sign you’re working too hard.’
Travis rose abruptly, offering his hand.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘We must remedy this.’
Viola got up slowly, catching herself from losing balance. The alcohol had done its work. The floor wobbled beneath her as alarm bells blared through her impaired mind. Travis led her from the VIP area towards the dance floor, moving through the frenzy until they were completely surrounded by the celebration. He turned, grasped her by the hips, and began moving to the rhythm, eyes ablaze.
‘Let yourself go,’ he urged.
A burst of adrenaline compelled her to resist.
‘No!’ she protested. ‘Where did … what have you done … to Carrie?’
But for some dark reason, her willpower was overwhelmed.
‘Let go,’ he commanded.
Her body obeyed, gracefully matching his movements, grinding against him even as the skin on her neck tingled with anger. How could she feel so physically attracted to someone she loathed?
‘Your work is important to me,’ he said, so close that she could taste his breath. ‘But you need a release.’
His lips made contact with her ear lobe.
‘I can help,’ he said, running a hand up her back. Every fibre of her being was battling a primordial instinct to run. She gasped as he took her hands with a firm squeeze and led her off the floor, towards the restricted area of the club, where muffled sounds of pleasure rose above the thundering music. The host at the entrance smiled without making eye contact, as a couple brushed past them half undressed.
The world was spinning as Travis led her to a room at the end of the hall. When the door slid open, a waft of sterile air with hints of antiseptic fragrance assaulted her sinuses; the only furniture inside was a lush bed with reflective comforters and dozens of pillows.
Her stomach churned, and for a moment she thought she might be sick.
His hand slid lower from her back.
‘Now,’ Travis said, ‘about your indiscretions …’
&
nbsp; Viola froze in the doorway, muscles tight as steel, contemplating escape scenarios, when the voice of an old woman called out from behind them:
‘I’d move that hand away from there if I were you.’
Viola saw Travis tense up, gritting his teeth.
‘Cerlis,’ he hissed. ‘Did you just threaten me?’
‘No, that was advice,’ the woman said. ‘She’s not interested. Every guest here can see that. Isn’t that right, honey?’
Travis turned around, removing his hand. Viola followed suit, and was shocked to see Cerlis Tarkon, the CEO of Vulcan Dynamics, standing there with a tall, buxom blonde on each shoulder plus an entourage of security personnel behind her. Barely a metre and a half tall, she looked to be a century old. Yet her features were striking, and her posture was as rigid as the ladies glued to her hips.
‘This is my room,’ Travis snarled.
‘I outbid you for it,’ Cerlis said, stepping forward. ‘Seems you’re not on the best terms with the management in your own club, so they were more than happy to break the agreement. So if anyone’s panties drop in there, they’ll be mine. Miss Silveri, may I buy you a drink? I’d love to have your company.’
‘Um,’ Viola managed to say.
Cerlis read her thoughts.
‘This won’t hurt your career,’ she said, casually looking towards her entourage. ‘Will it, Mareck? Speak up now, boy. Damn club music makes it hard for an old lady to hear.’
Travis was standing perfectly straight, his expression impossible to read. But his eyes were simmering orbs radiating with malice.
‘Take care to remember our NDA,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Cerlis likes to intrude on matters that don’t concern her—’
‘Oh, fuck the formalities,’ Cerlis muttered, storming forward and taking Viola by the hand. ‘C’mon girl, let me show you a good time.’
Viola was yanked away from Travis, nearly tripping over her heels. Cerlis’s grip was a lot stronger than she expected.
‘I don’t want to cause any trouble, ma’am,’ Viola said.
The old woman gave her a scolding look.
‘What?’ Cerlis demanded. ‘Are you apologising for being groped? Bloody hell. You ought to be thanking me instead.’
‘Excuse me, I meant to thank you,’ Viola said, before suddenly remembering. ‘Oh my God, Carrie!’
‘She’s fine,’ Cerlis assured, hobbling back up the steps leading to the VIP area. ‘My people had her home safely before those two meatsacks knew what hit them.’
‘The bodyguards?’
‘If that’s what you call them,’ Cerlis said, as one of the blondes helped her onto a barstool. She looked like a child seated at the counter. ‘The shits used a synapse jammer on her, gave the poor thing a seizure. So we cranked the level up a few notches and turned it on them. Looks like they mutated a few genomes in the wrong direction now. Bartender! Do I need to show my tits to get a drink around here?’
Viola blushed scarlet as the blondes giggled. One of the scantily clad male bartenders rushed over.
‘Vodka, no ice,’ Cerlis snapped. ‘The lovely lady here will have a glass of water. And look here, you greasy pec moron, have someone else bring the drinks. If I catch you eavesdropping on our conversation I’ll have your balls stuffed into your ears. Got it?’
The bartender nodded eagerly and rushed off as Viola’s jaw dropped a few centimetres.
‘One of Merckon’s imbeciles,’ Cerlis said. ‘Most of the staff are augments, fitted with all kinds of sensory enhancing crap to make them better spies. Watch what you say around here. Everyone’s on a payroll and they’re all listening. My ladies here are running some interference of their own to make sure no one hears what I have to say.’
Cerlis pushed a pill towards Viola. ‘This will sober you up. Swallow it.’
The two blondes, Viola realised, were scanning the crowd. One beamed a smile at the waitress who brought the drinks.
Viola took the pill and chased it down with the water.
‘Let me explain something to you,’ Cerlis said. ‘When I was your age, women were worshipped. Not for our brains, mind you, but for our vaginas. And not because of what men like sticking in them, but for what comes out nine months later. When humanity faced extinction, anything with a uterus was sacred. Now, I’ve never met you before, but I know a consensual fling when I see one. That wasn’t. What Travis did back there would have got him killed on the spot. Today, I’m not even sure it gets him fined. Why did you let him do it?’
Viola shook her head, disgusted with herself.
‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly.
‘Makes two of us,’ Cerlis said, taking a gratuitous sip. ‘A strong woman like you should know better. That pig isn’t half the man who used to run Merckon. Times have changed, and not for the better. Looks like prosperity on the surface, but really we’re heading backwards. Your father would agree, I’m sure.’
‘You know him?’
‘I sure do, though he’d probably deny it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We worked together for decades and argued about everything. Smartest fool I ever met, he is. He chose to have one child, I chose to have ten. Mine all came out from between my legs. But you were born from a synthetic uterus, lucky you.’
Viola blinked.
‘Excuse me?’
‘What, he didn’t tell you? Well, isn’t that just like him.’
Either the pill was working very quickly, or the shock of what Cerlis Tarkon had just revealed had blasted the drunken fog away with sobering clarity.
‘You’re telling me I’m an amniosynth?’ Viola stammered.
‘Oh, stop acting like that surprises you,’ Cerlis waved, taking another sip. ‘You’re not just any old amniosynth dear. He’s treated you more like an experiment than a daughter your whole life. Don’t tell me otherwise, I know. Thanks to him, humanity doesn’t need a woman’s plumbing to procreate any more. So use that genetically polished IQ of yours and tell me you can’t fathom how your father and I might have our differences.’
‘My father made topsoil for Merckon,’ Viola said. ‘He doesn’t know anything about—’
‘The man crowned an empire,’ Cerlis said. ‘But if you think dirt was the only thing he could get his brain around, well then I’m a virgin. Honest.’
‘But what about my mother?’ Viola asked. ‘He told me she died when I was an infant.’
‘Laughably ironic, considering he invented the first artificial birth canal,’ Cerlis answered, ‘though you probably don’t see the humour.’
Viola’s head was spinning.
‘There are pictures of her … I saw videos of us …’
‘An actress in a tragically twisted script,’ Cerlis said, trading a sip and wink with one of the blondes. ‘I can arrange an introduction, if you like.’
The revelation was as poison to Viola.
‘Who else knows so much about my life?’ she fumed.
‘Does it matter?’ Cerlis said, frowning. ‘Anything lowly Travis knows, the highborns can find out. So you should just assume they already have. You’re on everyone’s radar, Viola. A new type of flower to bloom from your father’s mad experiment. Now Travis Mareck has your very special mind studying alien fish, which either confirms my suspicion that he’s an asshole or proves to everyone that he’s a genius.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because I’ll pay double whatever the twat is paying you, that’s why,’ Cerlis barked. ‘I know what my freighter brought to your front door earlier today. And thanks to your shitty booze tolerance, I know those things aren’t as dumb as they look.’
Cerlis finished the vodka and slammed the glass onto the bar.
‘Bartender! Fuck!’ she roared, pointing at it.
Viola rubbed her temples. This wasn’t the kind of night she had envisaged.
‘I heard the Vulcan properties on Hephaestus are nice,’ she mumbled, hoping for a change of topic. ‘What brings you
to Merckon Prime?’
‘Meetings with Chancellor Jade and her party of misfits,’ Cerlis spat, as several Sirkus employees fumbled over each other to fetch the summoned drink. ‘That woman gives me cramps. By the way, it’s a shame you’re not gay, else I’d let you take one of my blondes for a ride.’
Viola gasped midway through a sip of water, some of which snorted out through her nostrils.
‘There are women lined up from here to Tau Ceti who want to meet you,’ Cerlis said, a fresh cocktail in her grasp. ‘What reason did that idiot boss of yours give for bringing you here?’
‘He said … or implied that I needed a break.’
‘Hmm, I’m sure. I really hope your effort yields something worthwhile, something that isn’t another Archangel. Christ,’ she muttered, downing half the glass. ‘You’re not an artist, are you? I mean, you’d agree that art is important, so allow me an analogy: like most art, the Archangel is culturally vital because it’s expensive shit that isn’t especially useful for anything except hanging around and being admired. Of course I’ve profited immensely from it, and so has Travis Mareck. But the difference is that he actually likes art, whereas I just dabble. Understand?’
‘No,’ Viola mumbled, completely spent.
Cerlis faced her and gently grasped her hands.
‘Viola,’ she said sincerely, transforming into a grandmother. ‘Your father was cruel, but he was right about two things: Travis Mareck, and your ability to do great things. If you believe so much in the Arkady, then I’m willing to accept that on merit alone. My employment offer stands indefinitely, and I suggest you give it serious thought before Travis puts you on a freighter. I’m a powerful woman, but I can’t promise you anything beyond the Belt. Understand?’
Viola nodded.
‘Then it was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor. My ladies will take you anywhere you need to go.’
‘Thank you, Miss Tarkon.’
‘Please, call me Cerlis,’ she said, with a hint of sadness. ‘There aren’t enough good people left who do.’
The Tabit Genesis Page 11
