A shaken Daphne Gilchrist returned to the Earth Security Centre after the board meeting in Washington. Deighton had asked her to wait back a moment. But her desire to escape intensified as soon as the room had emptied. She’d tried to put off their conversation for another time, but he’d blocked her escape with his arm.
‘I won’t keep you long, Daphne.’
She had risked going against him in the meeting, but she would not allow Deighton to turn her into a scapegoat for sending Serena and Anton away.
‘I must dash, Charles. I’m late for a meeting at ESC. Can we speak about this tomorrow?’
He flashed her that all-teeth smile she despised and removed his arm from the doorframe. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. In the foyer, here, at noon sharp. Don’t be late.’
She nodded. At least the foyer was a public space. Not much could happen there.
Back in her office on Level Seven, Daphne dove straight into research on the latest prototype, Serena. If plans to alter a selection of the population included her by default, she needed to understand the report that explained what Susan Bouchard—Serena—had become.
The information about DNA strands, mutations and nanoid delivery tripped up Daphne’s non-scientific mind. She opted for the layman’s report that Dr Caroline Finnegan had written before her death, hoping to find a clearer explanation there. But even that was filled with too much jargon. She leaned back in her chair and activated her communication device. The Galway Medical Facility was just a phone call away. But she disconnected again, not sure if Deighton monitored her calls.
She read through the report again but could gleam nothing concrete from it about her predetermined future. Deighton moved too fast with the alteration programme that was supposed to be years away from inception. And the board members, who could be swayed, given the right incentives, were just as bad.
What would happen to the ESC in this new future? Would it still exist once she became someone else? What would her new role be after her alteration?
Daphne stood up and smoothed down her skirt. So far she’d sided with Deighton for strategic reasons, but the alteration programme took things too far. Still, the conservative board members were the best hopes to stall the programme, but she could tell they had been intrigued by Deighton’s ideas. That thought set her off to pace her room.
How would the new breed of humans fit into a world like Exilon 5, alongside regular humans and a race of superior beings? What about the Indigenes? Would they live in peace, or would the programme destroy them first, as Deighton had suggested?
Daphne despised change and she had no desire to live on a planet she’d never seen, or among a race she’d never met. She’d been a silent partner in the Indigenes’ creation. Peter Cantwell Senior and Deighton had been the brains behind the operation. The idea of alteration in the early days had intrigued her back then—a radical and revolutionary idea that opposed her strict upbringing in Osaka, Japan. But that novelty had worn off with age.
She stopped pacing and returned to her chair. The report filled with jargon displayed on screen. How could she decide about the rest of her life based on this?
A knock on her door startled her. Her assistant’s face appeared in the open crack of the door.
‘I’m off to lunch. Can I get you anything, Ms Gilchrist?’ he said.
‘No. I don’t want to be disturbed.’ She waved her hand at him. But a thought crossed her mind as he closed the door. ‘Actually, there is one thing. Send Laura O’Halloran to my office.’
‘What now?’
Gilchrist stared at him. ‘Yes, before your lunch.’
Daphne abandoned the report and stood. She smoothed her short red hair into place and adjusted the ends of her suit jacket.
Image mattered to her. How important was it to Indigenes? Not much, judging by Anton’s feral appearance. She’d always preferred to watch change happening to other people, but Serena brought her own transformation a step too close.
Five minutes later, Daphne pressed the button on her communication device that connected to her assistant’s mobile headset.
‘Yes, Ms Gilchrist?’ he said.
‘Did you find her yet?’
‘She’s on Level Two, in the Energy Creation room. She’s getting dressed now.’