Accidental Creatures (22 page)

Graham was well aware of the acceptable levels of dive suit safety. He wasn’t going in there if he could avoid it. As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Out of the vat in front of him came a woman, a creature, four armed, like the others, but taller by a head, and visibly stronger. Her hair was long and black, too, her face identical to the identical faces he’d seen, although the look in her eyes as she gazed at him was anything but passive.

“What are you and why have you come to us?” She demanded. She spoke loudly and distinctly. He could hear her even through the hood of his dive suit.

He opened his mouth to say something. What, he wasn’t certain, and then he realized that the radio in his face mask was on direct transmission. He fumbled at the latex sheathed controls by his ear, his damp, gloved fingers slipping over them. After a deafening parade of squeals he got it to broadcast. “I’m Nathan Graham,” he said, “chief administrator of research and development for GeneSys.”

She nodded slowly, “Nathan Graham. You are the one Hector is afraid of. He confuses you with GeneSys. He says you are a danger to us, but you have been useful in the past. What sent you here, GeneSys or a brain?”

“Ah, I came to ask you a few questions.”

“Questions for who? For GeneSys?”

“For myself. I’ve heard a lot about you and the goings on in these vats. I wanted to know, why did you kick the researchers out?”

“We drove Hector away because he would have contaminated the nest. The others fled because they feared us.”

“I see. Why would Hector contaminate your... nest?”

She looked at him closely. “You say you ask these questions for yourself, but it is GeneSys you are asking for. This is none of GeneSys’ affair.”

“But it is, you are a project of the company’s research and development department. I manage the department. I am intimately concerned with your well being.”

“Concerned perhaps, but for GeneSys’ well being, not ours.”

“For all of us.”

She laughed, throwing her head back, her teeth flashing. “That is impossible, and you should know it.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You have come here looking for secrets to use against us.”

“I came here because I was concerned. There was an egg. What happened to it?”

“What happens to all eggs.”

“That’s why you kicked Martin out of here, isn’t it? Slatermeyer told me — he said you told Hector that he stank of her. You were talking about the — the hatchling, weren’t you?”

Lilith narrowed her eyes. “It seems to me you know too much already. You are a bright man, Nathan Graham, but GeneSys should have told you.”

“Told me what?”

She spread her arms to indicate herself and the other tetras, “That we are not a project. We are the enemy.”

Graham stared, his mouth opened. “The enemy,” he echoed.

“And you have delivered yourself into our hands.” She nodded at the other tetras, and they began to close in on him again.

“Wait,” he cried, “What are you going to do?”

“Keep you,” he heard her say as the tetras surrounded him. Panic clutched at his throat and he grabbed the tranquilizer gun at his hip. “Stop!” he shouted, brandishing it at them, but they did not react. He felt their hands on him, and he fired. He heard high pitched shrieking and several of the tetras abandoned him to surround their stricken comrade. He fired again and again, emptying the clip of its pellets. The tetras fell away from him amid screams of pain and confusion, as those who were not hit comforted those who were. All except one: Lilith. She alone stood among the pile of bodies, unconscious or condolent, and Graham took one look at her; at her flashing eyes and her teeth bared in rage, and he ran like hell. She must have been hampered by her daughters, because he made it to the floor of the vat room unhindered. He ran in the direction of the hallway, blinded by clouds of mist. Something caught him at knee level, sending him crashing to the floor. A folding chair, he discovered, as he freed himself from its molded biopolymer legs. He stood, only to see Lilith looming out of the fog, her arms spread wide. He picked up the chair, threw it at her, and ran again. He reached the wall of the vat room, and veered to the right, hoping that was the direction of the hallway to the outside. Lilith caught up to him at the archway, grasping him around his waist and chest and squeezing. He kicked her shins and flailed at her with his fists, but she didn’t let go. His vision was fading, not from the mists but because he was blacking out from lack of oxygen. He fumbled for his useless stun pistol, grappling with the holster for painful moments as the air was squeezed from his body, and then he had it free, and raised it to her head. She didn’t let go, but she did stop squeezing him. “Let me go, or I’ll do to you what I did to them,” he said, his breath returning. The pistol was empty — he’d foolishly spent all the pellets on the little tetras — but apparently she didn’t know that; didn’t know, either, that it was only a stun weapon. She released him, and he backed away from her; down the hallway and out the door.

Graham slammed the door and stared at it. Its plain metal surface gave no indication of the nightmare behind it. He pulled off his face mask and took huge gulps of clean, cool air. It was easy to take things like that for granted; good air, a rational order to the universe, until they were stripped away and you found yourself lost in someone else’s world, totally unequipped to deal with it. As he stripped off the divesuit, his transceiver rang. Swearing, Graham pulled his legs from the rubbery grasp of the suit, and retrieved the transceiver from his pants pocket.

“Yes, what is it?” he blurted before the holograph had a chance to resolve in front of him. It was Brea Jeffries, from personnel.

“Christ, Brea, what are you using my personal number for? Why are you calling me at all, for that matter?”

“It’s about that new diver.”

“What, the one you sent me that letter about? You’ve got the wrong department. I’m in r&d, you want production. Wait! You are production! What are you talking to me for?”

“I’m talking to you because you preempted review, approved her application, and sequestered her medical records. That was bad enough, but I figured you were doing somebody a favor — although why you couldn’t find her something better than diving is beyond me. But now you’ve gone too far. Countermanding a request for dismissal after an obvious act of negligence; it’s just too much. The other divers won’t stand for it. They’re touchy enough about us hiring sports in the first place. I’m surprised at you, Graham. When you were in production you never would have done anything this obvious.”

“Wait a minute, why are you saying I did all this?”

“Because all the pertinent documents carry your security code.”

Graham was silent a moment. He was remembering something Lilith had said, before the tetras attacked him. You have been useful in the past. That was what she said.

“What’s this divers name?”

“Oh come on, like you don’t know.”

“Humor me.”

“Alright. Her name is Helix Martin.”

“She’s a sport, you said.”

“That’s right. Real obvious mutations too.”

“Four arms and big teeth, right?”

“I guess it’s coming back to you now. We know that much just from the initial application, but we don’t know any more because we can’t get hold of her lab test results. You saw to that.”

“What did she do that got her fired?”

“I don’t know what you think this innocent act is going to get you, Graham. I can tell you right now, I’m not buying it.”

“Just tell me what she did.”

“She deliberately took her suit off in the vats.”

“Alright, Brea. Obviously there’s been a mistake. If you get any more documents with my code on them, call me. You can use this number. In the meantime, I’ll cancel that countermand.”

“It’s too late. I didn’t catch it until after approval. We’ll have to start all over again with a new dismissal request. It’s going to take a few days.”

“Do it. I’ll be in touch.” Graham signed off and dialed another number — the personal access code of someone in Vattown, a vatdiver who’d been useful to him in the past. To his surprise, his call was answered right away. The holograph was blacked out, but he recognized the voice. “I’ve been wondering when you’d call. Get a load of this.” The transceiver was moved so that what had been a dull roar in the background became the sound of numerous voices shouting “Strike!”

over and over again. “That’s the sound of a strike about to happen, buddy.”

“Where are you?”

“Josa’s, and they’re standing on the tables down here. Where’ve you been, anyway?”

“I’m not in production anymore.”

“Lucky for you. This is just a social call, then?”

“No. I’m looking for someone. You’ve probably noticed her. She has four arms.”

“Helix?”

“Yeah, that’s her name. Helix Martin.”

The voice laughed, “Shit boyo, that’s what these good folk are all riled up about down here. She got hired in about a month and a half ago, under the new genetic stability guidelines. She’s nuts, she took her suit off in the vats. Me and a few of my pals had to haul her out of there naked. She struggled when we got her to the surface, but I really don’t think she wanted to hurt anybody, she just wanted... to stay in there, apparently.”

“Fascinating.”

“Yeah, well, if you say so. Everybody figured that with the soak she’d taken, she’d be dead in a few days, but no. I have it on good authority that she suffered a toxic reaction to the biocide that was used on her, but once she got it off, she was fine. Now to top it all off, she didn’t get fired. Personnel just notified her she could come back to work tomorrow.”

“And that’s why they’re striking.”

“Yep, basically.”

“Well, I’ll see to it that she’s fired, like she should have been in the first place. It’ll take a few days though. When are they planning to strike?”

“Probably tomorrow morning. People are still filtering in here from the late shift. But I don’t know if getting her fired is going to help, anymore. There’s people here who see this as a rallying point to get the movement rolling again.”

“Chichelski’s old crowd.”

“Exactly. I have a feeling that once they’re through, they’ll be asking for a lot more than one sport’s dismissal.”

Shit, shit, shit. If word of a strike reached Anna, or even Kent, with his name attached to the unorthodox hiring practices that instigated it, no amount of explanations or finger pointing would save his hide. “Oh well,” he said grimly, “Let’s see what can be done. Does she have a lot of friends?”

“Well, everybody knows who she is, now, but no, she doesn’t have a lot of friends. Just a few sports.”

“Where is she staying?”

“At the home of Hyperion Baker. She’s living with him and Chango Chichelski.”

“Chichelski?”

“Ada’s kid sister, a sport.”

“She work for the company?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Hmm. If she’s anything like her sister, she wouldn’t take this Helix’s disappearance quietly.”

“No. In fact she’s got her doubts about Ada’s accident, and voices them frequently.”

“Anybody listen?”

“Not really, it’s the same shit she’s been spouting for years, with no proof. Basically it just serves to alienate her from most people, especially vatdivers. Even her little sport friends don’t pay any attention any more.”

“Good, at least those bones are staying in the closet. Now, about this strike, any chance at all of stopping it?”

“A snowball’s in hell.”

“Okay, then we’ll have to use it. How much would it take to turn this strike into a riot?”

“Not much. If Helix shows up and tries to get through the line, it probably will be one.”

“Fine. How well do you know Helix?’

“Pretty well, actually.”

“Good, talk to her, let her know you’re on her side. Encourage her to go to the vat yard tomorrow and be as belligerent as possible to the strikers. And make sure they’re in an ugly mood and there’s plenty of weapons at hand. And if there’s anything left of her when they’re through, get rid of it.”

“I really wish you’d reconsider this,” Chango said to Helix for the umpteenth time. It was morning, and they’d been up half the night before, arguing. Well, she’d done all the arguing, Helix just sat there and scratched herself, shaking her head.

Helix looked at her with tired eyes. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said, standing up. Chango followed her into the work room, where Hyper was running his robots through scales of isometric motion. Robo-mime’s head rotated back and forth, Close Enough for Jazz raised the sax to its carburetor lips again and again, the Augmented Hoomdorm flexed its legs and Attack of the Sneetches scattered across the worktable like a bunch of neon mice with perms. Hyper himself was bent over an array of radio controls. He’d removed himself from the debate around one in the morning, and had been out here ever since.

“Nothing I can say is going to influence you the least little bit, is it?” Chango said as Helix wove around the robots to the shower stall under the stairs. “It never has.”

Helix turned and looked at her. “That’s because I can’t let it. Believe me, if I were a human being, I’d follow your advice, but that’s not what’s going on here, and you should know that by now.”

“Why don’t you look at the data card? Maybe it can tell you something. Something about yourself that can help you now. Maybe there’s a better way than this. They won’t let you in there.”

“I know.” Helix nodded, her eyes staring blankly into the future. “But I have to fight them anyway.”

“Why? There are other vats.”

“Where? Where are there vats that are not vats for humans, whether they’re being used or not? Sooner or later, what’s going to happen today will happen. I’d just as soon do it now, before-”

“Before?”

Helix shook her head. “I don’t know, before I have time to get comfortable, or something.”

“Don’t you think your father could help you?”

She shook her head. “I think if he could, he would have.”

Chango bit her lip. “Helix he-He’s a scientist.”

Helix stared at her. “I know. And I know what you were about to say. That’s why I’m not reading the card. I can’t, not now. I can’t waste time on why I am what I am. I have to be it.” She turned and went into the shower. A moment later her clothes flew out through the curtained doorway. Chango leaned over the table where Hyper was working. “What are you doing?”