The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) (13 page)

“I’d prefer not to wait, if it is all the same,” Betty stated.

“Alan wasn’t up front with me on the risk. As you saw, the process still has some pretty significant flaws. You need to have a strong will and self-control."
For a few minutes, I lost myself in a bird.
A bird,
Juliane thought. She didn't know this woman at all. Who knows what could happen to the casual user? Juliane was no longer convinced that Alan was right in thinking the process was perfectly safe.
Why hadn't Louis reached out to her yet?
Aloud, she continued, "We'd have no way of guessing how you might respond to the procedure.”

“I am well aware of the risks. I was here while you were out cold on the floor. Alan mentioned something about having confidence in your success from your experience with some emulator device. If it would help ease your conscience, I would be happy to prove myself using that program first."

Juliane looked toward Chad. “I suppose you would like to be upgraded as well?”

Chad looked like a startled deer. “Absolutely not. We both know how I’ve done in the emulator. I think I can wait until the process is a little more proven, but I can go fire up the emulator chamber for Betty if you’d like.”

Juliane’s lips twisted as she engaged in another mental debate. “I think that is a great idea, Betty,” interjected Alan. “Juliane, it’s not our place to deny evolution, especially not to such a brave volunteer. Take her to your chamber and truly do your worst. I am confident that if she can survive you, she can survive my little procedure.”

Not entirely confident on her feet, Juliane leaned on Betty for support as they made their way back to her old lab space which still housed the emulator. Chad had run ahead to ensure that the system was online before they got there.

“All right, Betty, just enter the chamber and the test will begin. The system will be monitoring your brain pattern and will be creating a whole world for you. You will need to maintain control of the environment. It will put you in three situations. In each case, you will need to find a way out of the simulation; otherwise I will not allow Alan to administer his procedure. Are you ready?”

Rather than answer, Betty attached the earpiece and microphone, and she boldly stepped through the glowing arches. Alan should have warned them all of the risks up front. She would not let Betty undergo the procedure so blindly. Who knew if Louis was ever going to wake up, and if he did, would he wake up as the same person? Juliane squashed the thought and focused on the newest member of her team. She had to be sure that Betty could remain in control, and if that meant helping her find her breaking point, so be it.

The simulation appeared on the display. Realizing that she no longer had to watch the test on the monitor, Juliane created a mental connection with her program. Her vision was replaced with the image from the screen. Even before the scene came into focus, Juliane's nose twitched from the smell of heavy application of bleach. Then the room appeared. Juliane could not imagine a room like it had she tried. Bits of yellow paint could be seen behind movie posters and photo collages. A mountain of stuffed animals covered a slim white daybed positioned along the length of the far wall. The bed coverings themselves were wrinkled, tucked in with hospital corners. A desk made out of particle board sat on the other side of the room. The desk was immaculately organized, with paper in a neat stack. Pens and pencils were sorted by type and color filling black plastic containers with the same excess as the room's other decorations.

The bedroom door opened, and a middle-aged woman entered. The floorboards creaked over the sounds of a TV playing down the hall. The house must be decades old to produce such a sound as the woman couldn't have weighed more than a child. “Mom?” Juliane could hear unshed tears in Betty’s voice.

“Were you expecting someone else?”

Betty ran over to the woman and crushed her in a hug. “I know you aren’t real, but it is so good to see you!” Juliane could feel the woman's graying hair tickle her skin as if she was standing there instead of Betty.

“What do you mean I’m not real?” The woman's hand caressed Betty's cheek, and to Juliane, her touch felt like delicate lace. Betty jumped backward. The woman's hand hung in the air for a moment where Betty's face had been. Then, as gently as an autumn leaf, it fell back to her side. The woman's brow knit in confusion.

“You’re just a simulation. You may look like her, sound like her, and even smell like her, but you aren’t my mom. She died years ago, and this isn’t my room. Dad had to sell the house to pay off the medical bills.”

“Oh, Betty dear, have you been up late studying again? You always have those crazy stress dreams whenever you fall asleep at your desk. You know your father and I are so proud of you, but you work too hard. I don’t know that I want you to go to that fancy college if this is what it's going to do to you. I know, how about we spend the day together and relax, just you and me? We can go shopping and then end the day with pedicures. Won’t that be fun? Why are you crying, Betty?”

“I would give up anything to be able to go back and spend more time with my real mom, but you're just a computer program. I reject you.”

Betty’s mother looked crestfallen. “Betty, honey, you are starting to worry me. I have been feeling a little under the weather, but I didn’t die, and I definitely haven’t run up any medical bills. I’m right here. Your dad and I haven’t gone anywhere. Sweetie, you look so pale. Let me feel your forehead.” Betty’s mother took steps forward, eliminating the distance Betty had put between them. Betty leaned her brow against the back of her mother’s outstretched hand—

Betty reeled back again as if struck by a snakebite. “No. As much as I want this to be real, it is not, and I have to go.” Betty walked toward her bedroom door with determined strides, giving her mother a wide berth as if another touch would break her resolve. She didn’t risk looking back, but paused in the doorway long enough to whisper, “I love you, Mom.”

The scene faded to black as Betty crossed through the bedroom doorway. “I wasn’t expecting you to make it easy, but I didn’t expect you to be cruel.”

Juliane had wanted to challenge Betty, but hadn't expected the simulation. She released a breath she hadn't known she held. The scene would have gone much differently had Juliane's past been put on display. While she and Betty might have had a similar career trajectory on paper, it was clear they had vastly different backgrounds. Juliane felt a knot in her stomach as she tried to bury a surge of resentment. As the next test began, Juliane reduced her connection with the program, limiting its impact on her senses. Betty was the one whose self-control was supposed to be tested. Not hers.

Spray from an ocean wave crashing against the side of a small boat slapped Betty's face as the vessel appeared beneath her feet. Betty collapsed against the side railing as the floor rocked with the motion. Another wave pounded the craft as Betty struggled to regain her balance. After a few more failed attempts, Betty abandoned efforts to remain upright, and instead, leaned against the gunwale while the boat heaved up and down.

A strong wind turned Betty’s hair into miniature whips as steel-gray clouds took over the portion of the horizon not consumed by water. Electricity began to pulse through the sky, providing shadowy evidence of shark-shaped creatures hidden beneath the surface.

Betty glanced around, but there was nothing in the boat that could come to her assistance and no sign of land as far as the eye could see. Another wave struck the side of the boat, and its wooden boards groaned in response to the abuse. Betty grabbed the side of the vessel once again, her knuckles white. The change in the boat’s weight combined with the rising waves caused it to lean over precariously. A slick dark body briefly crested near Betty’s fingers before dropping back into the surrounding depths.

Betty pulled back into the center of the dinghy, but not before the dinghy began to take on water. As if the water had merely been waiting for the initial invitation, more waves followed suit, soaking through Betty’s clothing and filling the base of the hull.

Boards snapped from their fastenings. The little boat would not protect Betty from either storm or ocean inhabitants much longer. The boards near her feet echoed with thunks as something large came into contact. Betty screamed, but the sound was muted beneath the weight of the storm.

Another large wave, at least twice as large as the last, began its approach and closed in fast. The little boat would not withstand its onslaught. Betty curled her body, bracing for impact. Another splash of water briefly sent the boat underwater.

Juliane watched as Betty stood fully erect. The little boat continued its plummet toward its inevitable demise, but as it dropped down, Betty remained in place, hovering in the air. Upon impact with the rogue wave, the boat splintered into hundreds of shards.

The destruction of the boat did little to halt the progress of the storm. The debris, now lethal stakes, churned in reckless abandon as a new wave came closer, but Betty’s face no longer showed signs of distress. Her lips thinned into a small line as her arms dropped down by her sides and she squared her shoulders.

“This is a computer program. That is not the ocean, and this is not real. I reject it all!” Betty shouted into the wind.

The wave slammed into an invisible surface directly in front of Betty, and her entire vision was consumed by a wall of water. What hadn’t hit the wall flowed under her, but her shoes no longer showed signs of being wet. The undulation ceased, and the dark water became the floor beneath her feet. The wind’s howls became a mere whimper before ceasing altogether.

Once again, Betty was surrounded by darkness.

“I nearly drowned once when I was just a child and avoided the ocean for years. Your system is good, but no amount of simulation can compare to the real thing.” Betty’s fists remained white and closed, while her breathing remained labored.

A sliver of light penetrated the darkness of the chamber, and Alan rushed in. “Betty, I could hear you screaming from down the hall. Is everything all right in here? What have you done to her, Juliane?!”

“I’m fine, really. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Betty sputtered as if still battling against the onslaught of the wind and waves.

“You are positively shaking. Juliane, I think you’ve sent her into shock! What is wrong with you?!” Alan shouted.

“No, really. I’ll be okay. I just need a couple minutes to catch my breath. Dr. Faris is just doing what you asked her to do. Her worst." Betty glared as if she could see Juliane through the curtain. "I hope that I've now proven that I am just as capable of handling effects of the procedure as she is.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me. I knew from the minute that we met that you were perfect just the way you are.” Alan wrapped Betty in his arms, pulling her close.

“You mean I will be perfect once I’ve had the procedure like you and Dr. Faris.”

“That can wait for another day. You don’t have to rush into anything. I don’t want to risk losing you.” He brushed his hand against the side of her cheek.

“But what about the project? Surely you need all of us on the team to be able to contribute at our highest levels?”

“I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted from earlier. I doubt that Juliane or I would be able to accomplish all that much anyway. Why don’t we call it a day?”

Betty pulled back from Alan, although not so much as to break away from his embrace. “I’ve read through some of your previous project notes, and I did my own background search on you. I know a little thing like a stomach bug isn’t going to hold you back for long. Weren’t you the one to go for four nights without sleep just to prove a point?”

Alan smiled, urging Betty’s face toward his own with another caress of his hand. “I do so love a woman who does her research. I’m sure Juliane won’t mind locking up, will you Juliane? Come with me, Betty. You know I can make waiting worth your while.” Alan closed his eyes, leaning his head in toward Betty’s lips.

For a moment, Betty looked as if she would meet Alan’s advance, but then shoved him away. “No! You aren’t real. This is just another one of her tests!”

“No, Betty. This is no test! I heard you scream and made her turn the device off. This is real. You and I are real.” Alan reached toward Betty; she took another step back.

“You said you love a woman who does her research, and I did. Everyone knows you call Dr. Faris 'Jules' because it drives her crazy.”

“What are you talking about? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’ve called her Juliane repeatedly just now.”

“So?”

“I’ve heard the jokes around the building and the two of you talking. I know that even when you do call her Juliane, you still always stretch out the last syllable as if you are making a point to call attention to how considerate you're being.”

“Now I am seriously concerned. Obviously Dr. Faris’s testing has put a strain on you. I wouldn’t approve subjecting you to the procedure now, regardless of how well or not well you’ve done in her test chamber. Betty, I know that we haven't known each other long, but I feel as if I've known you all my life. We have a connection. One that I would like to develop more. You need some rest. Please, I am begging you. Come with me.” Alan reached his arm out to Betty once again.

“Alan doesn’t beg. This is not real. I reject you.” Betty’s eyes welled up with tears as she spoke the words. “Dr. Faris, I believe we are done here.”

Alan faded away as Juliane drew back the curtain surrounding the pillars. “Yes, Betty, I would agree. I’ll call upstairs and have Alan prep the table again.”

When Betty and Juliane arrived back at Alan’s lab, Alan was not there. Juliane, grateful that her mind was much clearer than before, used the time while they waited for his return to look over Alan’s procedure notes, all of which were handwritten in nearly indecipherable scratch.

"I probably would have saved myself a few hours of terror after you all collapsed if he would have stored his work online like most other people," muttered Betty.