Chapter 46
Ver

A fundamental paradox of science states that observation may influence the behavior of the phenomenon being observed. We look and listen, but we stay as silent and invisible as possible. They cannot know we are here.

Aryl and I have rushed off the platform that brought us to this balcony, which has now descended back to the lower level. We huddle in a corner of this higher story, behind a semitransparent glass wall, clutching each other’s hands and hoping no one notices us in the low light.

Fear bludgeons me from the inside. I grow lightheaded. How much more of this can my body take?

Seated figures stare at wraparound computer screens. Each screen displays everyday household scenes, but from strange perspectives: close to the ground as someone walks, a hand cooking vegetable soup. One worker scrolls through a document about a company’s jewelry sales. All files that must be stored on smart limbs.

The seated figures doing this spying are unquestionably human, with the random tics and gestures of true biological entities. A bouncing knee, a runny nose. Bounce, wipe, scratch. Goggles cover their eyes and cheeks; gigantic headphones cover their ears. Watching, listening.

What kind of factory is this? Can it even be called one, if the workers are not making things, but observing feeds? Each person has a set of controls at their fingertips—but for what? Sometimes they press buttons, but the effects are a mystery.

One worker stands, facing a small table upon which a blue-skinned foot rests. With a touchpad, he causes each toe on the foot to rise and lower, then lifts all five at once. The foot simulates walking, heel to toe, across the table.

I take in the information and process it, haltingly.

In an artificial system, input code gets translated to a series of ones and zeroes. That binary code then gets translated again, into output. Commands, usually. Could be speech. Or motion.

The workers can control the artificial limbs.

“Aryl.” My whisper barely makes it past my lips, but she hears. “Cal’s hand was not malfunctioning when it hit you. Someone else was controlling it remotely.”

She follows my gaze to the worker controlling the foot. Electricity seems to zap up her spine. “Then someone was also controlling it remotely when it—”

“—killed him,” I finish. The irony is sickening. This company creates artificial body parts, machines meant to help people live so-called normal lives. Not to kill.

“But why would ExSapiens want him dead?” I ask, but the answer is obvious.

If they could control his hand, they already had access to the records stored on it.

Aryl’s eyes open wide. She is thinking the same thing. “The research you two were doing. It could prove ExSapiens was off base with Telomar, make their signature product obsolete.”

The only way to permanently stop that research from developing further, to guarantee that it would never go public, was to cut it off at the source.

A green light on the ceiling blinks twice. Half the watchers leave their stations—a shift change. The round platform from the ground floor returns, carrying new workers who switch places with the departing shift. The transition is seamless, except for one small, brown-skinned worker who trips on the leg of her desk, sits down hard, and adjusts her goggles.

As the new workers settle down, a shadow drifts over Aryl and me. Blood pounds in my head. They have found us.

We turn to face a figure standing near a side door, his face obscured by shadow. Fear suffuses my every cell. Run, run, run! my body screams. But I am frozen.

“Welcome, welcome.” I have heard that voice before.

A headache stabs through my skull, even as my blood circulates faster and faster.

“Ver Yun, Aryl Fielding. I’m impressed that you’ve found us. All the media outlets say that the ExSapiens skyscrapers in Lucent City are our most impressive buildings. But this factory? Truly, this is the heart of our operation.”

He steps out of the shadows and into the pale light from the monitors, wearing his orange knit cap. His smile reveals a flash of bluish-white teeth.

Behind him is a larger shadow with a bald, domed head—the bodyguard from Jaha’s apartment. My pained legs freeze in place.

Pauling Yuan is here.