Unchanged (5 page)

A voice booms over the imagery. A deep, clear voice that demands attention. Demands to be heard.

“Be stronger. Be faster. Be smarter. Be
more
.”

The Diotech logo appears again, this time with two lines of text beneath it.

The ExGen Collection

Coming Soon

The screen fades to black.

“What do you think?” Dane asks, his face radiating with pride.

Everyone in the room breaks into applause. I hastily join in, desperate to hide my real reaction.

In truth, I'm torn. The advertisement does exactly what it's supposed to do: promote Diotech's newest product line. Make people
want
to improve themselves. But everything about it is misleading. Normates won't be able to actually
become
ExGens like me and Kaelen. They will only be able to purchase a handful of self-administered genetic modifications that will each enhance one specific attribute. Like eye color, skin tone, muscle capacity, hair sheen, brain function, body shape.

“Absolutely splendid,” Dr. A commends. “They will be lining up outside every drugstore in the country! Well done, Dane.”

Dane grins, basking in the compliment. We all know how rarely Dr. A dishes them out.

Dr. A puts his arm around Kaelen's shoulder and leads him toward the dining room. “Let's eat. It's quite late and I'm starving.” He flashes a glance back at me and I know what he's thinking. It's my fault we're eating late.

I bow my head, accepting the blame.

Dane comes up behind me and pinches my waist. “Don't worry. I kept him distracted. It's part of the job.”

I give him a grateful smile.

“Now,” he whispers to me, checking to make sure Dr. A is out of earshot, “what did you really think of the ad?”

“I loved it.” My response is quick. Maybe too quick.

Dane scowls in disbelief. “C'mon. It's me. You can be honest.”

“I'm just confused,” I concede.

He nods. “Okay. About?”

“The ad, the Unveiling, the name of the collection. It makes it seem like people can pay to be exactly like Kaelen and me, but they can't. With the number of enhancements being offered they'll never even come close. Isn't that … lying?”

Dane laughs a little. “No, it's marketing. You never give them
exactly
what they want. Otherwise you lose all your power. Ad firms have been doing it for years with strategic lighting and airbrushing and digital models. You show them what they can't have, then you turn around and sell them the next best thing.”

I struggle to follow his logic. “And you're sure that's what people want? To be more like Kaelen and me?”

Dane places a warm hand on my cheek and offers me a mirthless smile. “The truth is, Sera, people want what Diotech tells them to want.”

 

8

THREATS

We take our usual seats in the formal dining room. Dr. A at the head of the long rectangular table, Kaelen and I seated to his left, and Dane and Raze on his right. Crest is never invited to dine with us. She says it doesn't bother her, that she's far too busy managing Dr. A's schedule to sit down to a meal, but it bothers me. I've just never articulated it.

Luly, the kitchen maid, delivers our customized meal choices and Dr. A turns his attention to Kaelen and me. “Dane and I have some excellent news about the Unveiling.”

My whole body tenses and I remind myself to take deep breaths. Stay calm. If the nanosensors running through my veins right now detect any abnormal rise in my heartbeat, Dr. A will know. An alert will go off on a screen somewhere in the Medical Sector. He'll get a report on his Slate later tonight and he'll match the time stamp with the hour this conversation took place.

This is what I'm here for. This is my role in the Objective. To show the world how Diotech products can improve their lives. He can't know that the very thought of fulfilling my duty makes my system go into hyperdrive.

I start to count by 89s, opting for a prime number to keep my mind engaged.

89, 178, 267, 356, 445 …

“What's the news?” I force myself to ask, cringing at how strangled my voice sounds.

Dane grins wildly. “Take a look.”

He turns to the wall screen behind him and gives it the command to resume playback. Suddenly, Mosima Chan, the most famous Feed journalist in the country, is in the room with us, her hologram springing to life as she begins speaking in great earnest.

“This is Mosima Chan, bringing you this breaking-news stream. I can now officially announce that on May 8, 2117, AFC Streamwork will be feedcasting the first
exclusive
live interview with the offspring of Diotech's revolutionary scientific breakthrough, dubbed the Genesis Project.”

I choke on the small piece of synthetic steak that I just popped into my mouth, causing Dr. A to shoot me a venomous look.

“Excuse me,” I say as I swallow water from my goblet.

“Eighteen-year-olds Sera and Kaelen, referred to as ‘ExGens' in an official Diotech digital press release, will be right here in this studio in only two days. Up until this point, neither Sera nor Kaelen has been seen by anyone outside of the highly restricted Diotech headquarters located in the east Nevada desert. Diotech has been keeping a close wrap on the project, refusing to release even a single still capture of their faces.”

The comment bar on the side of the screen is going absolutely warped. I want to issue the command to slow it down so I can catch a glimpse of one of the viewer comments but I'm afraid of what it might say.

Dane deactivates the screen a moment later. “Mosima Chan is going to kick off our publicity tour!” he announces, the goofy grin still plastered to his face.

Suddenly I have trouble breathing. The thought of being in her studio, our faces feedcasted to the world, paralyzes me. I remember watching her live interview with Eean Glick after he returned from Neptune. The viewer counter was at over eight billion. I feel my pulse start to race.

534, 623, 712, 801, 890 …

“Isn't that amazing?” Kaelen asks.

“Amazing,” I manage to echo. But the room has already started to spin. It's becoming too real. Too fast. Mosima Chan. A twenty-eight-city publicity tour. Billions of eyes trained on us. Judging us. “Are you sure we're ready for all that?”

I suck in a surprised breath when I realize I said that aloud. I had intended it to stay in my head. But now my uncertainty is in the open and I immediately regret it.

Dr. A's hand slams down on the table, startling everyone, and sending his liqueur glass flying over the edge. It crashes a few feet away and shatters into pieces. That's when I know for sure it's real crystal. The synthetic kind never would have even cracked.

“Of course, you're ready.” His icy blue eyes narrow in my direction. “Do you really think I would send you out into the world before you're ready? Do you still doubt me so much?”

“No,” I'm quick to say while internally berating myself for my stupidity. “I don't doubt you at all.”

Luly is back, having heard the commotion. She eyes the mess. “I'll call a bot.” And then she's gone again.

“We have pushed this back long enough,” Dr. A continues. “We have spent the last year preparing you for this. Giving you access to countless uploads. Teaching you the popular slang and euphemisms. Training you to behave more like normal human beings so you wouldn't come off as creepy robots in the public eye.” He turns to Dane. “That's what
you
said they needed. This was
your
idea.”

Dane has always been better at appeasing Dr. A than any of us have. Especially me. “They've come a
long
way,” he assures him gleefully, resting a gentle hand on Dr. A's arm. “If it weren't for those exquisite faces, I would believe they were just Normate teenagers off the street. I definitely think they're ready.”

“I am very confident we can do this,” I rush to say, still trying to cover for my horrendous misstep. “I want to serve the Objective.”

Kaelen squeezes my hand. “We both do.”

I flinch when out of the corner of my eye I see the cleaning bot silently enter the room. Those things always unnerve me with their humanlike top half and wheeled bottom. This one is designed to look like a man. They're tasked with various chores around the compound. All the things real people don't want to do. Mostly janitorial work. Cleaning. Basic maintenance. And of course, there are the med bots, who help around the labs. The faces of the bots are so convincing, so flawless, you'd almost believe they were real. That is, until you look into their eyes. No matter how advanced Diotech's technology is, they can never quite perfect the eyes. There's always a void there. A soullessness that strikes you deep in your gut.

Looking a labor bot in the eye is a mistake you only make once.

I focus on my plate as the bot clears away the broken glass, sucking it up into its base, mopping the spilled liquid with an extension that protrudes from the bottom, and then giving the wood floors a shiny polish to finish the job.

Director Raze, who up until this point has been silently enjoying his synthetic pork chop, swallows and says, “You do realize, Dr. Alixter, that the added media attention will give Peder and his people more fodder. He's not simply going to go away.”

I wince at the brazenness of his comment. Particularly so close on the heels of Dr. A's last reaction to skepticism. But Dr. A simply waves his hand at this, as though it's hardly a concern worth talking about. “Peder is a raving lunatic with no real claims. He's crazy. No one takes him seriously.”

“If he manages to get enough support in the public eye or—”

Dr. A stands up, pushing his chair back and tossing his napkin down on the table. “That'll be all for now, Director. Thank you.” He turns to Dane. “Ping Crest with the final tour schedule.” Then he stalks out of the room, leaving a plate of barely touched food behind.

Dane gets up a moment later and follows him, leaving the three of us to finish our meal in awkward silence. I've never had much to say to Director Raze. The truth is, he scares me a little, with his tall build and domineering stance. The way he sometimes looks at me like I'm a piece of synthetic meat he'd like to devour. But I assume those same intimidating qualities also help to keep the compound safe. So maybe I'm
supposed
to be afraid of him.

It's only after Luly has cleared the plates that I have the nerve to ask, “Director, do you really think Peder is a threat to us?”

He stands up, dabs his mouth with his napkin, and winks. “Don't worry, princess. You know I'd never let anything happen to you.”

“But you said—”

“Just let me do my job and you'll be safe.” There's an edge to his tone that makes me feel the opposite of safe.

Once he's gone, Kaelen, seemingly unfazed by the previous confrontations, stands up and grabs my hand, pulling me out of my seat.

“Feeling better?” he asks, clearly referring to the meltdown I had in the gardens earlier.

I nod. “Much.”

“Good.” He cups my face with his hands and draws me to him. Our lips crush together and suddenly I can no longer remember what I was worried about two seconds ago.

“What do you want to do now?” I ask.

His lips burrow against my neck. “I have something in mind.”

I giggle. “What's that?”

“Something you won't be able to do in that dress.” Then he intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls me urgently toward the door.

 

9

SENSE

Kaelen gives me a head start. We both know I need it. I bow my head and run straight into the night. The wind tangles my hair, destroying Crest's updo in a matter of seconds. But she won't care. Evening meal is over. Dr. A has retired to his rooms. We are alone.

The compound is quiet, everyone tucked into their respective corners of the Residential Sector. This is the only time Kaelen and I can really stretch our legs. I head east, cutting across the center of the Agricultural Sector and into the barren field that lies beyond it. If I were to turn right, I would end up back at the cottage. But right now that's the last place I want to be. Even the thought of it sitting out there, empty yet full of memories, reminds me of all the things I don't want to think about. Like Rio and his vacuous eyes. Like the boy and his stupid dandelions.

Like me and my weaknesses.

So I continue straight, plunging deeper into untamed pasture, the wild shrubbery scratching my ankles. Leaving my wearisome thoughts farther and farther behind with every lightning-fast step I take.

I can hear Kaelen's nimble footsteps close behind me. He's gaining. I push harder. Faster. My muscles never tire. My lungs never burn. This is what being an ExGen is all about. The speed. The stamina. The unparalleled senses.

I sniff the air, breathing in the tangy desert. But there's another scent that catches me off guard—a sickly, putrid odor. It causes me to slow, gradually at first, then slamming to a stop as I catch a stronger whiff. Kaelen pulls up next to me. I watch his reaction. Judging by the confusion on his face, he smells it, too.

“We should go back,” he says after a moment, and I swear I see comprehension flash in his eyes.

I take a step, inhaling deeply. “What is that? It's almost like … like…” My body grows cold when the recognition hits. I remember that scent. It rose up from my own limbs as the fire consumed me. That was in another world. Another time. But the smell hasn't changed.

“… burning flesh.” I finish the thought, all emotion drained from my voice.

Kaelen gives my arm a tug. “C'mon. Let's go. We shouldn't be here.”

But I brush him away and stride purposefully forward, letting my nose guide me until I find the source. I stop dead in my tracks and stare at the spectacle laid out before us, no more than a hundred yards in the distance.