Skyfall (25 page)

She wakes as if from a long sleep. She stretches her arms and legs and yawns …

Stretches …

Yawns …

She can move!

Slowly, carefully lest it stop again, she extends one arm and wiggles her fingers. Her muscles don't seem to be working the way they used to, they jerk and spasm and she feels slightly disconnected, but she can move.

Slowly, hesitantly, almost scared in case her sudden freedom is lost again, she draws her legs up towards her chest, curling into a tight knot.

Her skin is tingling, her eyes watering with the brightness, and she closes them to shut out the light.

And her head pounds – not the constant aching pulse of the skyfire pressing at her, but a more solid, tangible, real pounding which starts at the top of her neck and thunders up through her skull, pressing against the back of her eyes and drawing nausea from the pit of her stomach.

‘Jani …'

Even her throat aches and her voice is scratchy and faint and hoarse.

Slowly she opens her eyes again.

The room is white. She knew that. And round. She knew that too.

But now she's back in her body again, her aching, cramping body, and the room seems somehow smaller, somehow harder. Through the walls she can still feel the skyfire, can hear it too – a constant, low hum and a faint smell, an odd, artificial odour which irritates the back of her nose and makes her gorge rise in her throat again.

She is curled on a stand of some sort, raised from the floor and topped with something soft. Even in her visions she couldn't have imagined anything so smooth. When she presses her fingers into it, it gives under them, but as soon as she pulls them away it springs right back to its old shape, as though untouched.

She shields her eyes against the light and squints upwards into it.

They're up there, she knows. Watching. Observing her.

Nightpeople.

And somewhere here is her mother.

‘Jani…'

With a quiet hiss, a section of the wall slides aside …

Finally the lab was quiet. His father had commed that he was taking Lari directly home, and outside things in Port North Central seemed to be settling down again. His nose still throbbed, but at last the other science teams had gone, leaving Janil alone in the lab, alone with only the quiet click and hum of the various pieces of apparatus running their scans and comparative measurements, alone with the dimmed lighting and the gentle tick of the monitoring device that kept constant track of conditions in the exposure chamber, alone with the figures that scrolled across his display as he selected the results of yet another series of tests.

This was how he liked it.

If only, Janil thought, this was how things could remain.

That was a false hope, of course. Everything was going to be different from now on, Janil knew that. Between the discovery of 45698F, the rapid acceleration of the entropy scenario, and his father's forcing of his copygen brother into Janil's comfortable world, Janil felt almost as though the sky was falling, and him with it, too fast and too far …

On the far side of the lab, one of the machines emitted a low alert tone and its readout flashed red.

‘Shi!'

Hurrying across, Janil studied the figures for a moment, before cursing again.

‘For sky's sake! Where're the bloody differences, then?'

The figures were a perfect match. Again. No variation between the Darklands girl and the control subject, even at a subcellular level. It had been the same story with every test and every scan. Nothing. The harder Janil looked, the more the girl seemed to be wired exactly the same as everyone else.

But she couldn't be. Just looking at her proved that. Somewhere, at some level, Janil knew there was a key, some miniscule variation that held the whole picture together. He had to find it. He had to find the drop that started the cascade.

‘Might as well search for a shiftie in the Prelature,' he muttered. ‘I'd have as much chance.'

Sighing, he massaged his temples in slow circles. There was no way. No way in the sky …

‘Doctor Mann?'

Janil nearly hit the ceiling. He hadn't heard anyone enter. He jerked his head up to find the Prelate standing just inside the door, Jenx behind her.

‘Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you.'

‘I … No, it's fine. Please, come in. My father isn't here at the moment, I'm afraid, but—'

‘We didn't come to talk to him. I'm here to speak to you, if you have a few minutes.'

Janil caught the Prelate's slightly startled expression as she became aware of his damaged nose. She didn't mention it, though.

‘Of course. I … Would you like to sit down?'

‘No, thank you.' She peered curiously around the lab as she spoke. ‘I prefer to remain on my feet. At my age I find it's much easier than getting up and down constantly. Do you know, in all my visits to DGAP I've never once seen this part of the facility.'

‘Would you like to look around? I'd be happy to show you …'

‘No. It's quite all right. I'd like to see the girl though, if that's possible.'

‘Of course.' Janil crossed to the obs room airlock and scanned it open. ‘This way, please.'

The Prelate allowed him to lead, and Jenx trailed behind. In the chamber the girl was asleep, the lighting dimmed to evening levels. Without speaking, the Prelate crossed to the large windows and stared down.

‘So tiny, isn't she? Such a tiny package to carry so much importance.'

‘Most of the subjects are smaller than we are, Madam Prelate. Their bone density and musculature is markedly—'

‘Spare me, Doctor.' The Prelate held up a hand. ‘While I'm certain it's fascinating, I'm afraid we didn't come here for a lesson in Darklander physiology. We have other … matters … to discuss.'

‘Sorry.'

‘Not at all. Don't apologise for things that you have no control over, Janil. It only makes you seem weak.'

The Prelate turned away from the windows and looked directly at him.

‘Now tell me honestly, Janil. Are we making progress?'

‘It's too early to say. We have to systematically work through the subject's genetic makeup and consider—'

‘Janil.' The Prelate's voice was cool. ‘
Honestly!

For a long moment the only sound was the chime of the girl's monitor and the amplified echo of her breathing.

‘No,' Janil finally said. ‘No progress at all.'

The old woman nodded. ‘I suspected this would be the case.'

‘But it really is far too early to tell,' Janil insisted. ‘When we get further down the track we should be able to isolate the appropriate variations in the protein strands and—'

‘Sadly, Doctor Mann, time is the one thing we are running short of right now.' Janil fell silent and the Prelate turned back to the window, studying the girl again. ‘You know, I was most impressed by your entropy report, Janil. Most impressed indeed. I did read it, you know. Several times, in fact. Very, very carefully.'

‘But I thought you said—'

‘I said it wasn't to be discussed and that it's not official city policy, and I stand by that judgement. That doesn't mean I'm not paying it a great deal of attention.'

Now Jenx stepped forward, and the Prelate nodded.

‘Doctor Mann …' His tone was carefully neutral. ‘First, it's very important that you realise that the Prelate and I aren't here this evening in any official capacity. As far as we're concerned, your father is still the head of research here at DGAP and will remain so for the foreseeable future. Do you understand that?'

‘Of course …'

‘Stability, Janil,' the Prelate interjected. ‘That has to be the main goal of any government. Even the old western democracies, flawed though they were, realised the value of stability. It's what keeps a population happy, passive and productive.'

‘And that's why, obviously, we can't allow the development of anything which might contribute to the destabilisation of governance in our city,' said Jenx. ‘You understand that, don't you?'

Janil regarded the small man coldly. ‘I'm not an idiot.'

‘Of course not.' The Prelate spoke placatingly. ‘But it's important you understand our priorities here. We've built a precariously balanced society, Janil. One which succeeds only because of stability: stability of population, of gender, of communication, of thought. Anything – any idea, movement or project – which doesn't contribute to the overall stability of life in Port City is therefore a risk to us all. But of course you understand that, don't you? It's implicit in everything you reported in your findings on the entropy scenario.'

‘With respect, Madam Prelate, you're not suggesting that this project is … What we're looking for here
is
stability. Genetic stability. That's the whole point of what we're trying to achieve …'

‘Don't get upset, Doctor Mann. What concerns us isn't the goals of your project but the implications of it. Why do we so desperately require this genetic re-coding in the first place?'

‘Because of the entropy scenario. Unless we can adapt to the outside—'

‘We're doomed. Precisely my point. The very existence of this project is a clear indicator that all is
not
stable here in Port City. And that's an unacceptable risk.'

‘More unacceptable than the prospect of complete extinction?'

‘Humans are resourceful creatures, Doctor. There's always going to be some hope, but not if we destroy ourselves in a frenzy of panic before we find an acceptable – and stable – solution to our problems. And my feeling is that this project, sadly, has the potential to trigger that panic.'

‘But you could apply that argument to any attempt to overcome the scenario.'

‘That doesn't make my point any less valid, Janil. In fact, if we had more than just this one shot on which to pin our hopes the risk to our ongoing stability wouldn't be so great. But we don't, do we?'

When Janil offered no response, the Prelate continued.

‘We don't want to be seen to be narrowing all our options to just this one course of action.' The Prelate touched Janil's forearm, a concilatory gesture. ‘And that's the reason for our visit tonight, Janil. We're concerned that your father is losing his objectivity where this project is concerned. That he's become too emotionally invested in it.'

Her words echoed around obs.

‘My father has always had the best interests of DGAP at heart.'

‘Nobody would deny that for a moment. Your mother had too. But the thing is, Janil, we need someone in this project who has the best interests of the citizens of Port City as their central concern, not just DGAP'

‘What are you asking?'

Jenx and the Prelate made brief eye contact and it was the security agent who answered.

‘For the moment, Janil, nothing. All we want is for you to be our eyes and ears – to keep us informed of any developments, or the lack thereof. And if it reaches a point where this particular project could become destabilising, we'd like to know early, so that we can intervene.'

‘Destabilising?'

‘There are rumblings in the lower levels, Janil. More than just the usual shiftie discontent. Today's little display here in Central was just the beginning of much bigger things to come – as you predicted in your report, I might add.'

‘What of it? I don't see what that's got to do with our work here.'

‘It's got everything, Janil. The Underground are trying to stir things up, trying to create fear, terror, get people around to their way of thinking. To upset the stability that has kept this city functioning for a thousand years. Knowing what that girl down there represents could be just the trigger they need. If they were to get even the slightest hint of her existence, let alone the implications of it for the wider community …'

In a moment of clarity, Janil realised what the security chief was asking him.

‘If that happens, you'd want to … terminate this project, wouldn't you?'

A long silence filled the room. Finally the Prelate answered.

‘We'd ask you to do what was best for the city, Janil. Your father is, as we say, no longer objective. You're our only reliable source of judgement here now. Can we trust you?'

Janil glanced down through the windows. In the white room the girl stirred slightly in her sleep. Janil rubbed gingerly at his throbbing nose. Then he turned back and looked the Prelate directly in the eye.

‘Of course,' he said.