Psion Alpha (24 page)

“At
what stage do you splice them? Zygotes? Later on?”

“Gametes.
Sperm and egg are both altered long before we introduce them to the tanks.”

“Have
you tried splicing adult DNA?”

“Sure.
It has been done extensively in adult mammals. But humans? I won’t attempt it.
We did trial runs on chimpanzees. It’s impossible to reverse the effects, and
the agony the process induces killed several subjects, the rest went into
comas. We’re still years away from making adult splicing work on a marketable
scale.”

The
Queen put her hand on Clyde’s back and slid it down until she had his
attention. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go back to your office and clear some of
the clutter off your desk.”

He
responded by letting her lead him back through the lab until she closed his
office door behind them. She kissed him softly, eliciting a moan from his
throat. Then she pulled off the scarf she had worn for one specific reason.

“You
smell so good, Kellie. What is that scent?”

The
Queen sucked on his earlobe and kissed his neck. “Atropa belladonna and
lavender.”

Walking
behind him, she tied the scarf around his head, covering his eyes. Then she stepped
away from him.

“I’m
deciding where to start,” she said in a hushed voice.

Without
making a sound, she walked around the desk and half-opened the latch to Clyde’s
office window. Then, from her purse, she drew a data cube and inserted it into
the dock on Clyde’s computer. Satisfied the cube was doing its job, she began
hers. Using her feminine wiles, she distracted Clyde for several minutes until
the cube’s task was complete. Throughout the whole process, she thought of two
things: Sammy and her freedom.

Freedom.
Always freedom
.

Before
removing the scarf from his eyes, she returned the cube to her purse. Hand in
hand, they left the building. Clyde, speechless and red-faced, seemed capable
of nothing but grinning on the drive home. The Queen kissed him on the lips, thanked
him for the evening, and promised to see him again very soon. Once inside her
apartment, she changed out of her dress and checked for any messages on her com.
Then she powered up her computer and began analyzing the data on the cube. The
amount of information was massive, and much of the jargon far above her level
of understanding. Her com told her the time was 2230. The security officers in
the N building wouldn’t change shifts until midnight.

Three
hours
.

During
this time, she sifted through the data and found several pieces of information
of use. The first was an office memo to Clyde from his boss.

Project
“solution” and Project “Orwell” side by side comparison- memo 39

***CONFIDENTIAL
INFORMATION***

Purpose:
Demonstrate improvements of global deterrent systems designed to track movement
and control behavior of subjects. Project “solution” replaced previous
cardio-implantation devices circa 2072. Replacement method “Orwell” currently
in alpha testing. Implementation planned circa 2090 or sooner.

Current
(“solution”) method of implementation: oral ingestion embeds
nano-tracking/activation system into subject intestinal tract.

Next-gen
(“Orwell”) method of implementation: neo-natal implantation of hyper-chip
during 2
^nd
trimester DNA testing.

Current
tracking system: subject can be located with 98.1% accuracy via GPS technology.

Next-gen
tracking system: subject can be located with 99.3% accuracy via GPS satellite
technology + SCDA Ping technology.

Current
activation system: chemical substance known as
diaphoren
attaches to
muscle and neural cells indefinitely. Embedded nanotech, upon activation,
releases secondary chemical which reacts with
diaphoren
and causes
extreme pain, exaggerated perspiration, and within minutes, combustion of
subject.

Next-gen
activation system: device activated at implantation. No remote termination
system currently planned. TRACKING DEVICE ONLY!

Current
longevity: most recent tests show that nanotech thermal power conversion unit
lasts up to eleven years and as few as seven years.

Next-gen
longevity: conservative testing models show that properly placed hyper-chips
will function a minimum of 40 years in vivo. Improperly placed hyper-chips
function 20-30 years.

Current
method of removal: Phase 1. Ingest
anti-diaphoren-52
(pure tomato juice,
mustard, equine urine, and isopropyl alcohol in equal parts with 1mg “Compound
52”/ml). This removes combustible chemicals from subject cells. Phase 2. Ingest
lenolox-26 no more than thirty minutes after Phase 1. This detaches nanotech
from intestinal lining after which they are excreted by subject.

Next-gen
method of removal: deactivate remotely with SCDA Ping or surgical removal.

Subject
classifications involved in Project “solution”: Code name: Aegis, Code name:
Thirteen, Code name: Hybrid, Code name: Hsigo, Code name: Lacy, Code name: Onchameleon.
Code name: Piraya.

Subject
classifications involved in Project “Orwell”: Lab testing only.

Subject
statuses involved in Project “solution”: Aegis: active. Thirteen: active.
Hybrid: active. Hsigo: active. Lacy: active. Onchameleon: active. Piraya:
active.

The
second piece of information revolved around splicing techniques for varying
species. This one came in a memo from Clyde, reprimanding one of his coworkers.

[…]
as you were instructed during the training seminars and orientation. The
splicing technique is not only species, gender, and weight sensitive, but age
as well. The process must be carefully calibrated for all four variables or you
will continue to see the results in your work debilitating your efforts so far.
Moreover, you draw unwanted attention to me and our coworkers because of your
sloppy and careless attitude toward protocol and policy. The loss of
Onchameleon 26 falls squarely on your shoulders. The animal was ready for
splicing and your mistakes cost the lab thousands of dollars. Any further
errors on your part will result in separation between you and N Corporation.
Please thoroughly review policies MSS-6.7 and CMO-4.9 & 5.8, then schedule
a meeting with me before participating in any further splicing procedures.

The
Queen’s next reading material was the policies listed in the memo. These led
her to more and more topics. She became so absorbed in the reading that she
nearly ignored her alarm when it rang, telling her it was time to dress. She
changed from her bathrobe to her climbing gear and double-checked her pack to
make sure she had everything she needed. Then she left the apartment and walked
downtown. Just before entering the N building lobby, the Queen took a holo-tablet
out of her pack. As she walked through the lobby, she pressed it close to her
face and let the hair of her wig drape around the sides. She waved
absentmindedly at the man behind the information desk as she passed to the
elevators.

The
genetics labs were located on floors 53 through 65, with Clyde’s lab being the
topmost. Floor 49, however, was comprised of marketing offices with far less
security. The Queen rode up to 49 and got off the lift, her gaze cast downward
at the holo-tablet the entire time. She broke into the nearest office and
waited for midnight when the guards left their shifts and new ones clocked in
for the graveyard. At exactly midnight, she opened a window, stowed her tablet
into her pack, and retrieved two hair-thin, razor-sharp daggers called slivers.
By stomping on the heel of each boot, small claws extended from the toe of her
shoes, strong enough to support her weight as she scaled the side of the N
building.

Without
worry of falling, she swung out the window, planted one toe claw and one sliver
into the side of the building, and closed the window. She climbed to the 65
^th
level. Using a magnetic hook device, she opened the window to Clyde’s office, which
she had partially loosened earlier that evening. The safety mechanism
preventing it from opening more than six centimeters had to be dismantled. This
she did quickly.

His
long, white lab coat hanging in the corner of his office was big on her, but
not so much that she looked awkward wearing it. She donned it along with a pair
of dark, thick glasses, and pulled the hair of her wig back into a pony tail.
To anyone observing her, she was a homely lab rat doing some late night
tinkering in the workplace. Minor prosthetics glued to her face enlarged her
nose and brow. An upper overdenture changed her facial structure, giving her a
prominent overbite. Skin glue held her ears closer to her skull, and expertly
applied make-up gave her a thicker, ruddier complexion. Some padding in her
clothing made her expertly-toned hips and buttocks appear round and flabby. As
soon as she left Clyde’s office, several overhead lights turned on. The Queen
scowled at them as they betrayed her movements.

This
was only a fact-finding mission, but the Queen still felt drawn to this place
and its many secrets. In here was her salvation and freedom. She walked around
the lab until the many different stations and machinery became familiar to her.
She paused occasionally to look at various pieces of equipment. Her eyes
flickered often to the doors further on, the ones that led to the clones and
the spliced animals.

First
things first, she needed to ensure that she had access to the lab the next time
she wanted entrance. She couldn’t rely on Clyde’s window being partially
unlatched. She chose the window on the northeast corner and jimmied the latch
so it couldn’t shut completely. Satisfied with her work, she set about
searching for “project solution.” The notes she’d read said the materials had
to be stored in a refrigerator. However, this lab had over two dozen of them.
Most of them had signs on them, which read:
NOT FOR FOOD! BIOHAZARD
WARNING!
These she investigated. Thirty minutes of hunting finally paid off.

Three
dark glass bottles sat side by side on the top shelf in one of the coolers. One
bore the label
Project solution
. A second,
anti-diaphoren
. A
third read
lenolox-26
. The Queen lifted the latter two in her gloved
hands as gently as a religious zealot would hold the Holy Grail. Through the
thin material of her gloves, she could feel the coolness of the glass and the
way the liquid rocked back and forth in its container. Her plan was to wait to
drink the antidote after her access to the inner labs was secure, something she
couldn’t do without a copy of Clyde’s retinal pattern. But now, with freedom in
her hands, she wasn’t so keen on waiting.

Not
yet
,
she reminded herself. Hanging on the side of the fridge was a paper log of amounts
taken from the latest batches of chemicals.
If they notice it’s missing,
they’ll be suspicious.

She
placed the bottles back in the fridge and closed the door with a sigh. No
sooner had she done this then the main door to the offices opened. The lights
in that direction flickered on as someone entered the room.

“Security,
ma’am,” a voice called out. “Need to see your I.D. badge, if you don’t mind.”

The
Queen swore silently as she shrugged Clyde’s long white lab coat off her
shoulders and placed it on a nearby desk. The security officer didn’t seem to
know her location because he headed to an area where she’d already been. She
ducked down and moved silently along the walkway in the opposite direction. The
lights flickered on above her, betraying her presence. The Queen cursed them
and herself for doing something so stupid.

“Ma’am?”
the voice called out again, now walking toward her. “It’s security. I’ll just
take one moment of your time.”

She
thought of all the weapons on her person or in her pack. Which one could she
use and not simultaneously put up an invisible sign saying,
THE
QUEEN WAS HERE
?
None of them.
She continued to circle the security
officer, hoping to reach the main doors before he did. Her only hope was to
flee, something she was unused to doing.

“Probably
wearing headphones like everyone else,” the man muttered, changing course once
again.

The
Queen walked swiftly, but knew she wouldn’t make it out of the lab in time.
Even if she did, several more security officers waited for her on the main
floor downstairs. This one guard would alert them. She had two options: make a
dash for the rooftop or go through a window. She chose the latter. Sprinting
down to the northwest corner of the lab, she pulled a small pistol from her
pack and fired several times at the glass until it shattered. Somewhere behind
her, the security guard yelled into his com as he jogged after her.

When
she reached the edge, she hurled herself out the window. The air buffeted her,
ripping the gun from her hand and sending it tumbling along beside her. She tried
to grab it, but missed. As she pulled the ripcord to her suit, she heard
several pops from above.