A Calculated Life (14 page)

Two
: Monitor all interdepartmental communication for key words:
Jayna
,
simulant
,
Dave
,
David
,
Madoc
,
Constructor
, and half a dozen others.

Three
: Create an immediate notification system of any communication between Mayhew McCline and the Constructor.

Four
: Investigate the housing riot stats. If anyone did discover her trip to the enclave, some relevant research would provide some plausible cover.

Five
: Low priority—mental health indicators among the under-fives. (She hoped Dave was right about the baby but she harbored doubts.)

Six
: Finally, and low priority again—continue monitoring the sales at auction houses. There should always be time, she thought, for light relief.

The voices of the C6 and C7 residents, now congregating in the canteen, favored the drone of conference delegates rather than the erratic buzz of friends hanging out. All the Franks and Fredas stuck together, thankfully. Jayna couldn’t bear making conversation with them; it just didn’t work.

“Hello, Jayna.” The distinctive singsong voice came from behind her. “We missed you yesterday.”

Jayna turned. “Hi, Veronica…and Sunjin.” She smiled.

“So where were you?” said Sunjin.

“Events conspired. Backlog of work.”

“That’s a shame. Sounds a little…chaotic?” said Veronica, frowning.

“Not really. All’s fairly normal except…have your meals been changed recently?”

“They have, but only for first sitting,” she said. Her friends seemed nonplussed.

“Seeking redress today, Jayna?” Sunjin had beaten her soundly at the last backgammon gathering. Hardly surprising. He was one of the first of their generation. Of all the simulants she’d met, Sunjin was the sharpest. She always sought him out in a crowd.

“I’ll not get past you, Sunjin. How are things going anyway? Solved any gruesome crimes lately?”

“I have. And I’m closing in on a couple of murder cases but my prime suspects are already dead.” His remit at the Metropolitan Police Department was to examine unsolved cases. He had started with police killings, then child murders and, most recently, he was unearthing some race-hate and sex crimes as well as a string of seemingly unprovoked, random cases of murder. Jayna surmised that his initiation had been all-encompassing: an awesome data handling capacity augmented with keen analytical skills, sociological and psychological know-how, demographics, micro-economics…

“We brought in a serial rapist last week. He’s ninety-seven years old; charged him on scientific evidence. But the case won’t reach the courts, too senile to stand trial.”

“Disappointed?” said Jayna.

“No one seems disappointed at the department. In fact, everyone’s celebrating his arrest. Unshakeable attachment to these old cases. Baffles me.”

“You’d think they would move forward, find out who’s spraying yellow paint on our walls,” said Veronica. Jayna and Sunjin nodded in agreement. “I suppose the detectives want to flex their new capabilities. They want to—”

“‘Settle old scores.’ That’s what they say,” interrupted Sunjin. “They usually had all the data they needed but they lost track—bad collation, cross-referencing. Tragic all round.” Knowing looks were exchanged and Sunjin turned to Jayna: “Do you still have access rights to Police data?”

“For the time being.”

“Seen anything interesting? I’m too tied up with old cases to know what’s happening on the streets.”

“Which streets?”

“I mean, what’s happening now.”

That policing vernacular, she never saw it coming. “Well, I’ve seen one or two things. But I’m modeling, looking for correlations rather than root causes.” She smiled. “And, I’m certainly not trying to
bring anyone in
. It’s all academic.”

“Still, you might spot trends that elude the department.”

“That’s the really fascinating part of our role,” said Veronica. “We really can shed new light.”

Jayna ignored Veronica. “I suppose I’ve noticed one matter of potential concern but your people will be well aware of it. In any case, Mayhew McCline will inform the Police of any findings related—”

“Go on,” said Sunjin.

“Well, I’ve noticed five instances of hate crime perpetrated by organics against bionics. I came across it quite by accident. I’m not sure I can make any use of it; could be spurious.”

“From what I’ve seen, hate crimes were traditionally linked with religion”—he counted them out on his fingers—“race and football. But in the case of football it was just an excuse to vent violent tendencies at the end of each working week. Race and religion: those were the issues. But, organics kicking bionics, that’s quite another matter. Crime between the economic classes was rarely hate-motivated. Theft on the one hand, exploitation on the other. In general, of course.”

With two rounds of backgammon completed, Jayna and her friends from C7 congregated by the tea and coffee urns with Sunjin and his friends from C6.

“So, who’s still in?” said Veronica. Raised index fingers showed that C7 was holding out well. Sunjin stepped forward, took an institutional cup and saucer, and held down the lever attached to the urn spout. He released a lukewarm surge of coffee-flavored water that swirled and over-topped the cup rim, settling into a murky moat.

“You usually serve plain water.” He was irritated.

“Another alteration to the menu, I suppose,” said Harry.

“What do you know, Sunjin, about these menu changes? Is there a link to the recalls?” said Julie. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Recalls? Plural?”

“Yes, we’ve heard of two recalls. Which one do you know about?”

He hesitated. “A simulant, one of our generation. He went day-tripping beyond the city limits without authorization.” Jayna’s grip on her cup and saucer tightened. “You know about that one?”

Julie responded: “No. We’ve heard about a simulant at the Liverpool Tax Office who had a curry at a private restaurant. And someone else at the Institute of Forensic Accountancy who was late for meetings. That’s all we’ve—”

“How could it be related to the menu change?” Sunjin barged in.

Julie seemed taken aback. “Well…it was a matter of coincidence, with the curry incident. Very spicy food. Do you see?”

“Maybe.” Sunjin seemed to calm himself. “In any case, I’m sure they know what they’re doing at the Constructor. A simulant has probably analyzed the situation for them. I think we can trust one of our own.” He laughed politely and the others followed suit. Jayna faked a broad smile as best she could and, attempting to extract herself from the discussion, looked down at the tips of her shoes.

“Jayna says the Constructor can’t risk any damage to the brand,” said Julie.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said looking across at Jayna. “The corporate world’s your specialist subject.”

Their eyes had to meet but she conceded only a glance. Instead she looked around the group. “I think Sunjin knows as much as I do on any subject.”

In the third round, competing for a place in the semi-finals, Sunjin and Jayna were thrown together. He was playing well but whereas he normally fixed his attention on the board, he now frequently stared into the middle distance. She, too, was making her moves on automatic and found herself imagining Sunjin naked. Was Sunjin capable…? Would he respond…?

“Jayna, do you think these recalled simulants will be sent back to their previous work?”

She shook the dice and made her move. “Depends on the nature of their transgressions. We don’t know the full stories.”

“If simulants are faulty as a result of the Constructor’s error, then they ought to be reinstated and allowed to continue with their work.”

“It would be a shame to lose their experience.”

“Exactly.”

“I think, Sunjin, the pressure would come from the lessee. If Mayhew McCline were getting excellent results from my work, for example, they wouldn’t want to risk losing their competitive advantage just because I exhibited a minor glitch, if that were to happen. After all, they contend with mildly disruptive behavior from their organics and bionics.”

“So you believe there would be an element of negotiation.”

“Most likely.”

“I suppose the simulant would have some say in the matter.”

“Possibly not. Think about it.”

He shook the dice. “You’re right. Their evidence would be tainted by the very fact that they had transgressed.”

“Yes. It’s an interesting conundrum. And…it looks like you’ve won again.”

He was gracious in victory. “Well played.”

As they stood to make way for the next duo, Sunjin said, “Let me know if you hear of any more recalls. But don’t bother going through Mayhew McCline channels. Just tell me down at the Domes. I don’t want anyone misinterpreting the department’s interest.”

“Okay. Whatever you think.”

Over dinner that evening they pored over the competition results. C6 had suggested handicapping the event but C7 had politely declined their offer.

“The point is they acknowledged the inherent unfairness,” said Lucas. “They’re all at least six months older than us.”

“The gap is closing though,” said Harry.

“Anyway, so much depends on the fall of the dice,” said Lucas. “That’s why we can’t take it too seriously. If we were playing chess, that would be another matter. There would be far more at stake, a true battle of wits.”

“Even then, it’s not as though we have anything to prove. It’s the bionics who become agitated about chess. And they wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us,” said Harry.

“Not in a month of Sundays,” said Lucas.

“Not once in a blue moon,” added Julie.

Jayna slipped away from the canteen ahead of her friends just as second-sitting residents gathered at the entrance. Lucas was over-excited about the backgammon results and she couldn’t bear any more of his chatter. She pushed through the Franks and Fredas and made her way to the top floor of the rest station. She paused by the
No Access
sign then climbed the two flights of stairs leading up to the roof. While taking off her right shoe, she pushed the emergency door’s opening bar and then wedged the shoe between the door and door frame.