by Eden Wolfe
"Yes, ma'am."
"How long have you been in charge of logistics, Laure?"
The woman was surprised to hear her name, names were not a favorite of Uma, everyone knew it. "Seven months, ma'am."
"You're doing a good job. Watch out during the storms, there’s more to anticipate for those, but otherwise your management of supply lines is good."
"Yes, ma'am, thank you."
Without any goodbye, Uma turned slowly on her heel, watching the faces of the others in the room as she went. She squinted her eyes to hide a smile. Logistics staff especially feared her. They were right to - the last head of logistics had been a betrayer. They'd all seen it - and then seen her absence.
Uma smiled to herself.
There won't be another betrayer there. Not with the look on those faces.
Moving behind the logistics room, she found the cleaners, most of whom came from Cork Town, all of whom were not allowed above the eleventh floor. They could be trusted with bookshelves and bathrooms, but to put the delicate chemical equipment in the hands of a Cork Town misfit, that was asking for catastrophe.
They were always friendly and simple.
Anna led the team of cleaners. A basic designed sequence. Intended for dedication and contentedness with most basic provisions. Uma had overseen the expansion of that program herself. There were some drawbacks, susceptibility to outside influences, and the like, which made their Cork Town accommodation somewhat worrying. Conspiracy theories had a tendency to thrive there.
"Ms. Uma! Well, we’re glad to see you today, we've been making extra sure to cover each corner with this being Review Day."
"No doubt, Anna."
"You know you can count on me, Ms. Uma."
"I do, indeed."
"Ms. Uma?"
She took a breath to find a little extra patience. "Yes, Anna?"
“About the number of cleaners - ”
Anna cut herself off. Somehow even she was able to see that this was not the moment to ask for any favors.
"Never mind, Ms. Uma. Sorry." She lowered her head and re-joined the line of cleaners who waited to be dismissed. Uma watched as one of the others, name tag saying Rhonda, gave Anna a dirty look.
Uma took her time looking them over. They each looked like they expected to be chastised, and Uma let them believe it, making a show of inspecting their buttons and folds of their hair.
Without word or courtesy, she turned and left the room. She heard complete silence behind her, knowing they were waiting for some kind of sign of dismissal. They waited while Uma looked at her checklist in the hall. Thirty seconds went by before slowly and silently they took half steps back towards their duties.
Uma continued, eager to get through the first eleven floors and make her way to where she needed to be. Floor fifteen. Something wasn't right and she couldn't put her finger on it. It had been weighing on her since the dream. Something there, something in it. There was a file she needed to review.
The file had caught her eye months earlier. There was nothing special about it. Another report on the incubation program that had been dismantled, something about the retrieval of the equipment, something about vision capabilities, and something about the skin. All subjects should have been terminated; the mosaicism of the genes had been pervasive.
But it wasn't adding up. She waited until floor twelve to start asking questions. Most of those she asked couldn't offer any information.
"Incubation was abandoned more than two decades ago, ma'am."
"I know that, of course, and where is the remaining equipment?"
"I wouldn't know that, Ms. Uma."
"But you are responsible for all equipment, historical and current."
"Yes, ma'am, but the dismantled programs were royal-led."
"So you have no reports on them?"
"Of course not."
Uma frowned. Her questioning might raise suspicion, especially amongst those for whom the answers to these questions looked painfully obvious.
She softened her face. "Good. I'm glad to see you have not extended beyond your current responsibilities. I have at times been concerned that your enthusiasm might be a result of off-strategy activities."
The researcher shuddered.
"No, ma'am," she replied quietly. "I wouldn't do that, I'm not one of those. Thank you for enquiring. I am within my limits, ma'am."
"Yes, I see that now. Be wise to those around you."
"Yes, ma'am."
That would put her off her scent for a while. Uma knew well that gentle accusations in Central Tower were a useful weapon. Hidden agendas were a necessary modus operandi.
However, she was still no closer to understanding why there were anomalies in the equipment management.
Royal-led.
The project had been managed from higher up than she had expected.
With incubation abandoned, some pieces of equipment had been kept for learning purposes and for the animal programs. It was all relatively well documented. So it had seemed. Lucius had been the overseer of the project; no less than the Great Geneticist would have been allowed such freedom of implementation.
She set her thoughts to a different problem.
Adam.
Adam and the new birth, 4880. What was it that she sensed in him? Not deception. Not Adam, he wouldn't need it. But it was nagging at her. Too many things nagging at her and this feeling that her control was slipping away.
Just like what had happened with Lucius all those years ago.
Has it really been nearly twenty years? Where has the time gone?
It had been right here, on the fifteenth floor, that the Primary Overseer, Roman, had burst into her office. She was only Mid-Grade Overseer then, though everyone knew her promotion was imminent. At that time, Roman reported to her. She never would have ever guessed how high he would go.
It was right there that Roman had told her the outrageous idea that Lucius had been tinkering with files.
His accusation was unfounded. Uma knew it because she herself had always accompanied Lucius to the file stores. She monitored him closely at every moment. For each review of each genetic layout, she had been there. Sure, she was surveying the files, as was her job, but she had also been learning.
The wisdom and ability of the Great Geneticist were unending. To accuse him of tampering with the files was borderline unethical.
For every piece of information the public heard, there were five more of which they knew nothing. The experimental fetuses. The genetic coding challenges. The amplification, modification, and life expectancy alterations. All held in tight circles of Central Tower's elite. Floors seventeen and above only.
It wasn't a question of secrecy, but rather of scientific inquisition. In a program as personal as Willing Women, which was in fact even more invasive than any of the Male Program had or ever would be, the subject was delicate, treated with respect, and unspoken outside the walls of the Tower. It was contractual; breaches were punishable with imprisonment. More than once, even in the last five years, violations had been treated with an efficient disappearance before the leak could cause further harm.
“Uma.”
Roman’s voice pierced the air. She was pulled out of her memory, back into the present moment. Back to her desk.
“Yes?” She blinked.
“I’ve interrupted you.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Just considering the impact of some new results Adam brought today.”
“He told me.”
Damn it, Adam. Again crossing the line. Roman is my line manager.
Uma forced a smile.
“I want to discuss it. First thing tomorrow. I want us to review the material closely. I’ll be gathering all the senior members.”
Uma tried to hide her surprise.
“Lucius will be there?”
“Come on, Uma. Lucius hasn’t attended a senior member’s meeting in years. What’s wrong with you today?”
She quickly sh
ook her head. “Just distracted. Sorry.”
“In the meantime, make sure the previous tests are cleared. If we’re going to run this through to implementation, then we will need all the resources available.”
“Understood.”
She couldn’t tell if Roman believed her. He turned and pushed the button for the elevator.
She thought again of Roman accusing Lucius, and how she felt like so much more was happening under her nose than she knew.
Adam’s jubilance this morning over 4880 shouldn’t have anything to do with that.
It shouldn’t have.
And yet it did. But Uma didn’t know how.
The feeling was the same, and she didn't like it. She felt – uninformed. Out of the loop. Excluded from something that seemed important.
She broke from her routine and headed straight to her office. Floor reviews could wait, this could not.
Before she could go any further, the report on test case 4957 sat heavily on her desk. Uma sighed. It had been a particularly difficult one. She opened to the inside cover and recalled the circumstances. She just had to stop it before it was planted in a Willing Woman.
Clear it, Uma. Roman wouldn’t be pleased about this one anyway.
"Willing Woman clinic 5. I need 4957 pulled.” They would terminate it with the others. The risk wasn’t worth it.
She didn't wait for a reply; the Receiver in the clinic would know how to handle the call. She took in a deep breath through her nostrils and exhaled, not in relief. But at least that was a definitive action. It felt good to make a decision.
4957. Uma flipped through the report again. The blend of hormones had been risky - they had known that going in. But 4957's condition was both stable and alarming. It was the sex organs, the internal systems. She'd never seen anything like it before.
She lifted the x-ray film to the light. Yes, in hindsight it was all there, but in their initial assessment, it had appeared relatively normal. The angle of the image hadn’t given away the severity of the condition.
Uma sighed again. It was her job to prevent these cases from advancing. She was particularly sensitive since the Western Coast incident; the combination of wrong Willing Woman and experimental sequences could almost give rise to mutiny.
Uma put her face in her hands.
She heard her office door click open and click closed again. She sighed. Only Adam dared enter without knocking. She lifted her head.
Of all people, she did not want to see him now.
“I said that I would tell you when I was ready.” Uma looked back down at the report.
"I see this morning’s luster has already worn off.” He leaned over her desk. “4957?"
"The time has come to terminate."
"Shame, really."
She wasn't sure if he was talking about the project or her mistake in managing it. "Yes."
The discomfort grew in the room.
Why isn't he leaving?
Adam wasn't one to linger. His presence made her uncomfortable.
"Is there something else?"
He looked away, and she immediately knew there was. She found her skin getting prickly, and her breathing slowed. Involuntarily she lowered her head and looked at him from the side of her eyes.
"Yes," he said after a long pause, looking at the ceiling.
Yet another long pause and Uma rested her hands on her legs, not knowing what else to do with them.
"Given what we saw today with 4880 and knowing what we do of 4957's anomaly, I wonder if there might be hope in it."
Ah, she thought, now he's coming to it.
Adam was brilliant with statistics, numbers to him were like colors, simple and apparent, self-evident. There should be no reason for him to hesitate.
He is hiding something.
He started, "If we figure in the chance for survival -" and she was sure he already had "- then the risk could reap some unforeseen rewards."
"Unforeseen?" Uma wasn't sure she was hearing him right. Unforeseen was not a part of the policy that guided their work.
"Yes, I know it is an anomaly, but that's why I wanted to bring it to you. I'm reporting it, honestly, and -" he stopped for a moment. "So that's it."
She looked him in the eye, unwavering. "You are not convincing, Adam. Report taken, but this appears to be a freak accident, and we both know I'm the culpable one, so let's acknowledge that here. If I'd been doing my job, 4957 never would have come this far along."
"I know, I know." He filled his lungs, appearing at a loss. "But could you reconsider for - "
"I've already called it in."
"Ah okay, sure. That's probably the best choice. There will be another opportunity. 4880 still gives us a lot of hope."
She gave a forced smile, intended to close their interaction.
Still, he didn't leave.
What does he want from me?
The muscles under her eyes tightened, almost imperceptibly. "And?"
Adam paused, but then just gave a slight nod, and left.
What to make of that?
She couldn't imagine that 4957 could be any cause for concern. But what did he see in this failed case that was different from the others? Perhaps he was encouraged by 4880 and wanted to press on. She granted that the deformity in 4957 could be more cosmetic than critical. Cranial malformation and genital irregularities to put it lightly. But they had not conducted all the normal tests of viability yet. It likely was not as severe as other deformities they had managed.
Still, it was the fact that it had caught them by surprise.
Uma winced. Surprises were clearly outside her remit. No one in Central Tower appreciated a surprise, and certainly not one following otherwise normal fetal development.
Adam had spoken with hesitation, but that could come down to the sensitivity of the matter. He knew about the Western Coast. He wouldn’t want to see a repeat of it either.
More likely he knew I was unlikely to agree.
She looked up at the clock.
"Damn, I've got to go," she said to her desk. The Queen would be preparing to speak.
All else could wait. She pulled the office door behind her, turned the double lock, and rushed to the main square, hoping not to be one of the last to join the Tuesday Briefing. She never liked to be last.
12
Adam
Adam examined the file again, wondering how he'd missed it so many times before.
The chromosomes are viable. It’s unbelievable, but they're viable.
Would it survive? He didn't know. Probably not. Certainly not if Uma went through with the termination. But there was a chance, small though it was. He just had to take it a bit further, and then he could tell Isaac.
When he first started studying probabilities, it was to see whether he would live past the age of forty. At the time, that felt like a very long time away, so the burden of a probable death didn't hold the same fright as it now did.
Ten years and counting, he thought. If I can just clinch this now. Or at least in the next few years. Without thinking, he touched the amulet, even though he despised what it stood for.
And then what?
In fact, there was no magic number; probabilities were only as good as the paper they were written on when it came to organ decay. Between the parasites, the bacteria, the viruses that the Final War had ushered in -
In some ways, it was a miracle he was alive at all. He had already beaten the probabilities.
Maybe this little one could too. Maybe this line will be the beginning of a new Male Program.
No doubt it would be a horrid looking thing, you can't have that degree of mutation without consequences. But perhaps the mutations wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps they’d be internal, or at least relatively invisible. Or able to be covered up. Would it be more like a boy or a girl? Would it even survive childbirth?
The prospects were starting to weigh heavily on him.
There was no pushing Uma any further than he already had. He
knew he'd been pushing the limits as it was.
The ticking of the clock suddenly bore into him.
He took a quick detour to the holding room, found what he was looking for, and slipped it into his bag before walking quickly to the clinic. He didn’t have long before the Briefing.
At the clinic, he gave Rita the biggest possible smile. He knew she liked that sort of thing.
"Adam! How unexpected!"
He acted surprised. "Didn't you get the call from Uma?"
"Well, yes, I was just about to pull the file."
"You haven't pulled it yet? Rita! I'm shocked," he tried to chastise just enough to throw her off, not enough to make her defensive.
"It's been busy around here, Adam, I know she gives twenty-four hours -"
"Don't worry about it. I've got to add the closing remarks to the file, so how about I pull it for you."
"Oh, you're sweet!"
“You can do the verification after the Briefing then.”
He winked and walked through the door. Dropping the big smile, he couldn't believe his luck. His heart was beating out of his chest.
Yes, the luck of his life.
He slipped the new documentation into the file. No one would be the wiser, not at clinical level. It was enough. That would be enough. It would be fine that 4957 would be terminated.
"4957, let me introduce you to 4880." He made the switch.
Adam just had to wait now for the right candidate to try again.
13
Uma
Grimacing in dark silence, Uma was unconvinced. Something about the whole exchange was haunting her, but she couldn’t place her finger directly on it.
What is it? What am I missing on 4957?
She had been through the file again, and again, and again. Tossing and turning in bed, she went over each piece she could recall.
Vitals were normal, even if it was disfigured. It was the same as the others, I'm sure of it. There was nothing even in that dossier. It was incomplete. So why does it matter so much to him? What does he see that I don't?
There had been no indication of viability, no hint of promise in the file. And yet, Adam wanted it.
