Awakening (16 page)

“I’m afraid I’ve over-estimated my energy level,” Pitamah said in response to Devak’s concern. “I was scheduled for another treatment this afternoon, but then this business with Abran came up. I don’t like asking you to drive me to the lab, when it was my own foolishness that put me in this state.”

“I’ll take you,” Devak said. “Junjie has been bugging me to share a meal with him. We can go to one of the lowborn Houses for dinner while the medics give you your treatment.”

Devak would have helped his great-grandfather to his feet, but Pitamah waved him off. He’d never liked needing assistance all those years he was so infirm. Now that he had a hope of a normal life, even at his advanced age, it had to be especially bitter to take his great-grandson’s hand.

Pitamah walked carefully, Devak hovering beside him,
using the excuse of his wristlink call to Junjie to explain his slow pace. His great-grandfather made it without mishap to the AirCloud parked in its carport. Not even a closed garage here at their Two Rivers home, so anyone who drove by could see the old lev-car with its dented, faded finish. It irritated Devak that he still cared about such a trivial thing.

The skyway cut directly across the Central Western Territory to southern Plator sector, at its highest point traversing that territory’s adhikar land. Central Western had the second largest stretch of adhikar after Southeast, the irrigated parcels comprising a fifth of the territory. Swaths of vivid green kel-grain fields alternated with scrap grass pastures filled with droms, the genetically engineered versions towering over the few wild cousins that shared the grazing.

He and Pitamah owned similar adhikar land in the Southwestern Territory, just enough acreage to maintain their high-status rank. A team of lowborns managed the drom herds and kel-grain fields, most of them Kinship and paid under the table by others to conserve Devak’s and Pitamah’s meager funds.

They reached the far edge of the expanse of adhikar and crossed into south Plator. Devak took the first exit, piloting the lev-car in a lazy arc as the roadway circled back on itself. Before they dropped completely to street level, Devak spotted a Jahaja backing up to the rear of the genetics lab where Junjie worked. The bhimkay emblem of the Brigade gleamed in black and red on the sides of the multi-lev.

There weren’t any empty lev-car docks close in to the lab, so Devak dropped off Pitamah near the door before searching for a place to dock the AirCloud. There had been a time when the Manels could have arranged a reserved space for two or
three lev-cars down in the lab’s underground parking so they would never be inconvenienced. No more.

But maybe that was just as well, Devak thought as he hunched his shoulders against the encroaching chill of late afternoon. If he could attach such importance to as minuscule a thing as a prime docking slot, maybe he needed to do some soul-searching to figure out the kind of person he’d let himself become.

Junjie was waiting out front, grinning and waving as if Devak might miss him otherwise. “Zul already went in,” Junjie said as he ushered Devak inside. “It’s early yet for dinner. The curry house I wanted to take you to doesn’t open for a couple hours. Want a tour of the lab?”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to see the labs,” Devak said.

Junjie shrugged. “We’ll skip the confidential stuff. But I can show you where I work.”

A guard was seated out front, a minor-status trueborn woman with short frizzy hair and what looked like a perpetual scowl. She took Devak’s name and locked a visitor tag to his left wrist. Junjie explained the tag would allow him to pass through certain sections of the building, but would set off alarms if he entered a forbidden area.

Just as they were about to step through the security door, the front door opened and Junjie nudged Devak back out of the way with a none too gentle elbow. The guard beamed at the newcomer. “Garud-Mar. Good morning.”

The man was clearly high-status, with his perfect skin tone and neatly trimmed black hair, his understated navy uttama-silk korta and chera pants. But as the man turned toward Devak and Junjie with idle curiosity, Devak was shocked to
see the man’s bali earring. If he was high-status, it should have been a diamond, but the man wore a large demi-status emerald.

The man held the security door open for them, his lean, handsome face serious but not unfriendly. Once Junjie had the door, the man went inside, then Junjie entered with Devak following, an upside-down procession since Devak was the most high-status of the three. Past the security door a long hallway stretched to the back of the building with doors on either side.

Devak waited until the man had gotten ahead of them, then whispered, “Who is that?”

“Akhilesh Garud,” Junjie murmured. “He’s head of GAMA. The one who designed Zul’s treatments. And the one we all work for.”

Devak gestured at his right ear. “Why is he—”

Junjie shushed him. Akhilesh stepped inside a door halfway down the hall. Junjie exhaled in a rush, as if he’d been holding his breath. He started down the hall, leading the way.

Devak followed, persisting with his question. “Why is he demi-status? He’s got high-status looks.”

“Family scandal,” Junjie said. “An ancestor who might have been minor-status.”

As he passed each lab, Junjie named off the techs who worked inside, some of them gene-splicers working on GEN modifications, some medic-engineers working on treatments like what Pitamah was receiving that day. The doors were all solid, so Devak couldn’t see into the labs Junjie identified. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“The Scratch-infected GENs they bring here, are some of them still alive?” Devak asked.

“Yeah.” Junjie stopped at a door four down from where

Akhilesh went in. A tiny nameplate on the wall read GURU LIANG LING. “I’ve been told there are beds upstairs for them. That they’re medicated for pain. I’ve never seen them though.”

“What happens when they die?”

Junjie made a face. “Akhilesh and his crew experiment. They say it’s to study the disease, but the rumor is they use the GEN tissue after to make new GENs.”

“Couldn’t that end up making more GENs with Scratch?”

Junjie shook his head. “They sterilize it. Test it a hundred times over.” He made another face. “They wouldn’t want to waste all that effort making a GEN.”

“Why are they the ones experimenting with Scratch victims over there?” Devak asked. “I thought you and Guru Ling were the only ones working on a Scratch cure.”

Junjie pushed open the lab door. “Something about crosscontamination. I don’t get it either. It’s like they care so little about the GENs they don’t care if Scratch is ever cured.” Junjie gestured around the cramped lab. “This is it. Scratch central.”

It wasn’t much to look at. A bank of microscopes along one wall, one of them with a magnified holographic image floating above it. Clear plasscine beakers and concave dishes covered a countertop, some of them half-filled with oddly colored liquids and gooey substances. No windows, so harsh illuminators lit the room.

“Guru Ling is busy in her office,” Junjie said, pointing to a closed door. “I’ll have to introduce you to her another time. She’s the best. Stern, but just crazy smart.”

Junjie dragged Devak over to a cluttered desk jammed into a corner. “Where genius happens.” Junjie spread his arms to encompass the cramped space. “Which reminds me.”

Junjie swung into his chair and activated his computer. He tapped away at the holographic keyboard, then dug a datapod from his chera pocket that he fit into the physical interface. Images popped up on the screen, two graphs, side by side. The title across the top read
DNA Analysis—Subject A, Subject B.

“What’s that?” Devak asked.

“That GEN girl’s DNA profile,” Junjie said. “Gemma.”

“And whose is the other one?” Devak didn’t have the expertise in DNA that Junjie had, but he could see the two graphs were entirely different.

“That’s just it,” Junjie said. “Both of those are Gemma’s. Or rather, I guess one is Gemma’s and one of them is Gabrielle’s, the other personality in Gemma’s brain. Except it isn’t just another personality upload. It’s actual double DNA.”

“You can tell all that from her passkey?” Devak asked. He knew a lot of information was encoded in that twenty-digit number, but to be able to find two DNA profiles in one passkey seemed hard to believe.

Junjie shook his head. “When Coria took Gemma to a safe house, she got a DNA sample and brought it to me.”

“Is it really possible for the gene-splicers to build her with two entirely different DNA profiles?” Devak asked, although the answer was right there in front of them.

“They use animal DNA in GENs, why not other human DNA?”

“But why would they,” Devak asked, “when it obviously causes her problems?”

Junjie made a face. “I don’t think most gene-splicers care much about GEN problems.” He cleared the screen, then
snatched out the datapod and tucked it away in his pocket again.

“Could . . .” Devak had to force himself to ask the question. “Could my father be involved? Could it be something like what he did before with the lowborn children?”

“The children only had circuitry installed,” Junjie said. “Their DNA wasn’t jiggered like this GEN girl’s was. I can’t see what Ved or anyone else could gain by messing up a GEN like this.”

That was true. Gemma’s double personality had been confusing enough for the poor GEN girl. Who knew what the mix of DNA could be doing to her body?

“Was it just careless work, then?” Devak asked. “Could it have been a black-market gene-splicer who messed up a reset on a stolen GEN?”

Junjie considered, then nodded slowly. “Might be. It would make sense that she would just be dumped.”

While Devak tried to wrap his mind around Junjie’s revelations, his wristlink beeped. Devak read the text on the screen. “It’s Pitamah. There’s something the medic wants to go over for after his treatment.”

“He’ll be in the genetics lab,” Junjie said, “where Akhilesh went in. I can take you over—”

“Junjie!” Guru Ling poked her head out of her office, her sharp demi-status features reminiscent of Junjie’s. “I need you.” She vanished back into her office, seemingly oblivious to Devak’s presence.

“I remember where to go,” Devak said to Junjie. “Fourth door on the right.”

He stepped out and started down the hall. At the fourth door, he reached for the latch, but although it clicked in
response to his tag, it didn’t release. Devak tried a couple more times, then finally knocked.

A muffled voice called through the door, “Just a minute. In the middle of something.”

While he waited, a noise down the hall past Guru Ling’s lab caught Devak’s attention. Instinct prompted him to press himself nearly out of sight into the doorway to Akhilesh’s lab. At the far end of the hall, two enforcers emerged in the stairwell, no doubt coming up from the underground parking area. They carried a burden between them.

They were too busy angling their load up to the next flight of stairs to notice Devak. He nearly gasped when he realized what the enforcers were carrying.

A body. A GEN body, from the faint glitter of a tattoo on the left cheek. Devak could see the angry marks of Scratch on the pale skin of the man’s face and arms. Considering the careless way the enforcers knocked the GEN into the railing as they made the turn at the landing, the man must be dead.

The enforcers disappeared upstairs with the body. Devak’s curiosity drove him from his hiding place, hurried him down the hall to the stairwell. He hid out of sight until the enforcers reached the second floor and stepped out of sight again. Then he climbed the stairs two at a time, treading as quietly as he could.

When he got to the second floor and could take a look, he spotted the enforcers three doors down the hall. The man holding the GEN’s feet dropped them and waved his wrist at the door. The lock release clicked, but the handle wouldn’t turn. The other enforcer swiveled the GEN around, then waved his wrist at the lock. No luck, same as when Devak had tried to
open Akhilesh’s door. Maybe the whole security system was down.

The enforcer holding the dead GEN’s shoulders muttered something about the chutting lock and gave the door an angry kick. When no one answered, the enforcer unceremoniously let go of his load, and the body hit the floor with a dull thud.

The enforcer’s callousness sickened Devak. The GEN man might be dead, but his body should be treated with dignity.

Devak took a step from his hiding place, intending to use his high-status rank to chew out the disrespectful minor-status enforcer. Then something stopped him in his tracks.

The GEN groaned, his eyes fluttering open.
He was still alive.

The shock hit Devak’s belly with a wave of nausea. It rooted him to the ground as the door finally opened and the enforcers shoved the suffering GEN through.

As the door started to swing shut, Devak ran down the hall. He caught the door noiselessly with the toe of his shoe.

Carefully, he edged the door open enough to see. Junjie had said there were beds for GEN Scratch victims who were brought in still alive. Maybe that was why the enforcers had brought him here, however brutishly. But Devak could only see banks of scientific equipment—microscopes, surgical lasers, and computer arrays more numerous and complex than what his father used to use for the Monitoring Grid. Maybe the beds were on the other end, hidden by the door.

Devak pushed the door open a little farther to get a better look. The two enforcers were stripping the GEN man of his clothes, leaving him in only his skivs on the plasscrete floor. A tech, a minor-status dark-skinned woman, bent to apply a
datapod to the GEN’s cheek, which meant he still clung to life. You couldn’t upload or download a dead GEN. You had to use other methods to extract the data in a deceased GEN’s annexed brain.

The tech poked and prodded the GEN’s tattoo, searching for a Scratch-free place to apply the datapod. The tech’s fumbling must have hurt the GEN, because his eyes widened, his head jerking from side to side as he scanned the room. Maybe he was seeking his god, the Infinite.