CHAPTER 6

A row of white-blossomed trees lined the path to the elite dormitory. Mineko inhaled their delicate scent as she walked under the pale boughs.

Students loitered on the path, engaged in nervous discussion. Exam talk. Mineko could sympathize, though in truth, she didn’t have to worry. A word from her parents and Student Administration would find that a processing error had lowered her grade average. It had happened before.

After passing through the dormitory’s sliding glass doors, Mineko crossed the marble tiles of the lobby and entered the stairwell. She paused on the first landing to glare at the immense oil painting hanging there. It depicted an ancient dean clutching a book and offering a bemused, placid smile to the viewer. As a First Codist, he wore no uniform; the Second Code had introduced the hated jumpsuits.

Mineko hurried to the door of her room and swiped her keycard. A low buzzing note played, and the lock clicked open. She took in her lonely refuge—the narrow bed with its rumpled sheets, the tree outside the window, the desk at which she spent evenings staring through branches toward the stars—and her chest began to ache again.

What a cruel taste of freedom that had been.

Would she ever see them again? She would have liked to talk more to Kade, who had seemed so clever. Despite his profane prattle, Zeke had been nice too. He’d given her a painkiller. Lexi had been intimidating but exciting as well. And then there was Callie.

Mineko took the watch from her pocket and flipped it open. Twenty past four. The second hand performed a full circuit, coaxing the minute hand to creep onward, and her ache intensified. She’d always wanted a friend to join in her private jokes and observations, someone to keep her company and share her secrets. In other circumstances, maybe Callie could have been that friend.

As if to taunt her, footsteps pounded down the corridor, accompanied by the sound of laughter. Even if another student did share Mineko’s doubts, they too would hide them, meekly growing into their future roles, concealing their anxieties and crying in private. The way she was crying now. Wanting for comfort, helpless without it…

She closed her eyes and held the watch tight. For a minute she listened to its gentle ticking, letting that sound occupy the entirety of her thoughts.

But no—she couldn’t sulk like this. She might be able to help the others.

She retrieved her study tablet and tapped its screen, awakening it. After navigating to her message bank, she typed a quick message to Kaori: Missing you both. May I come for dinner tonight? Her index finger sent the message on its way, and she flopped back to the bed.

Missing you both.

It hadn’t even been a lie. At home, she didn’t have to hide her disdain from her lecturers, didn’t have to endure all this solitude, didn’t have to wonder—in moments so bleak she seemed tiny and still, like something unborn—whether she’d ever sleep beside the warmth of another body. At home, she could watch confiscated movies with her father. She could sit in front of the fireplace and fall asleep, warm and drowsy, while her parents talked freely about matters she was forbidden to know.

She could feel loved.

The tablet chirped. Kaori was always quick to reply; she never seemed to be far from her phone. Mineko tapped the message open.

That would be lovely! Your father is in a foul mood today, but if anyone can cheer him up, it’s you. We’re serving at half past six. Would you like to stay the night?

Mineko prodded out a response: I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Not sure if I can stay. There was no chance she’d stay. It was simpler to wake here, in this solitary emptiness, and pretend that nothing else existed.

* * *

The Codist underground loop connected each enclave and avoided Foundation’s district transport system entirely, ensuring that no Codist would ever have to witness the reality of the world’s decay. Each train featured gleaming steel exteriors, plush interiors, and cabins containing no more than four seats. The lighting was steady, the cushions luxurious. Graffiti was unimaginable.

Mineko took an empty cabin, as was her preference. Comfortably settled on soft upholstery, she focused on the humming sound of the train in motion. No matter how hard she tried to blank her thoughts, Callie’s music still repeated itself in her head. The rhythm she recalled clearly, but the lyrics were vague. Had it been a cold night coming? Or a long night?

A calm, genderless voice murmured overhead. “Ten minutes until arrival at Urban Enclave One.”

She needed to stop thinking about Callie. And Lexi. The memory of that languid, white-haired libertine was far too dangerous. The way she’d kissed that girl at the nightclub…

Mineko had been taught that such things were wrong, but it hadn’t looked wrong to her eyes. Quite the opposite. And—mortifyingly—Lexi had read her thoughts and seen her guilty fascination.

“Now arriving at Urban Enclave One.”

Mineko exited the train, followed the platform, and waited on the escalator as it rose toward a square of gray light above. The dark steps terminated, and she stepped into the open air.

Urban Enclave One was a natural park and a residential haven. The industrious First Codists had shifted immense mounds of dirt to form small hills and valleys, the sides of which were decorated with colorful foliage. Trees lined paths winding through grassy terrain, their branches brandishing translucent leaves, and a melody of running water and lively birdsong played through the air.

Little wonder Kade held the Codists in such contempt.

Mineko turned to the path leading home, and her heart beat harder. Kaori was sitting on a bench, smiling in Mineko’s direction.

“How long have you been waiting here, Mother?”

“Not too long.” Kaori left the bench and met Mineko halfway down the path. “And I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘mother.’”

“It’s important to show respect to one’s parents. They’re the foundation of the family unit.”

Kaori laughed and squeezed Mineko’s shoulder. “They’re teaching you too well over there.”

Mineko was unable to hide her pleasure any longer, and Kaori smiled back, her eyes warming. “There you are,” she said. “I knew my daughter was hiding somewhere inside that sulky young woman.”

They looked alike, or so people said. In reality, Kaori was several inches taller, graceful, and far more beautiful—at least in Mineko’s estimation. Her navy overall was embellished with gleaming awards and insignia, and her black hair was cropped short, adding to her look of impishness. Her lips never seemed far from a smile. It was hard to believe she had killed people.

“We really need to talk about this haircut of yours.” Kaori brushed Mineko’s bangs aside. “Are you trying to disguise how pretty you are? I’m still waiting for you to bring a young man to meet us.”

Not this again. “You’ll be waiting a long time. I don’t want somebody getting in the way of my career.”

“Your career in Neuroethics.” Kaori raised an eyebrow. “We need to talk about that too.”

“It’s an interesting field.”

“But it’s so theoretical. You’re a practical person, just like your parents. Are you so sure you wouldn’t serve the Code better elsewhere?”

Mineko scrunched her nose, and Kaori chuckled. “Never mind. I’ll berate you over dinner. Come on, let’s walk.”

They followed the path through the shade of a high bank. Branches above filtered the early evening light, dappling the stone trail with bright streaks and gentle shadows. The clamor of ducks rose from Mineko’s left, and as she strolled, she admired the birds gliding across the water.

“Remember when you used to feed them?” said Kaori.

“I remember. A big one nearly took my fingers.”

Kaori began to hum a simple tune, a few bars repeated, and Mineko fought against her rising sense of happiness. It wasn’t right to find solace in this false paradise, and though her parents weren’t monsters, they were still responsible for atrocities. She couldn’t let herself forget that, even if she did love the sight of her mother humming in the evening light, her face lifted to the sky.

“You said Dad wasn’t in a good mood,” Mineko said. “What happened?”

“Oh, it’s work-related.” The smile left Kaori’s lips. “Some of his operatives were assaulted in the city today. Naturally, he’s upset.”

“Assaulted?” Mineko’s stomach wriggled. “That sounds serious.”

“It’s very serious, but don’t let his mood bring you down, too. You’re here to cheer him up, remember.”

The path reached a moderate incline, and Mineko focused on pushing her way up it. Kaori, the show-off, marched upward without any visible effort. At the crest, Mineko drew in a welcome lungful of air.

The family mansion sat atop the next hill. It was among the largest structures in the enclave, and the high fence around it emphasized their family’s status while lending a touch of the paranoid. A walled house within a walled neighborhood—what were they trying to keep out, ducks?

“It’s our anniversary coming up,” said Kaori as they traversed the path curving toward the front gate. “Twenty years.”

“Are you planning to celebrate?”

It was a silly question—of course they were. Her parents seemed to enjoy the ideal relationship: harmonious, respectful, and genuine. It made them especially obnoxious when discussing any subject related to romance.

“We’ll be having a party,” said Kaori. “You’ll have to come. You can bring some friends.”

“I don’t have any friends to invite.”

“Still? Well, don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time.”

They paused inside the front hall to remove their boots. Mineko crouched to unlace hers, while Kaori stood one-legged as she unbuckled her left.

“How is work?” said Mineko.

“Stressful. I spend most of my day shouting at people, and then I come home completely hoarse. Everyone seems to have lost their heads lately.”

“Should I worry about you?”

Kaori smiled as she tugged off her other boot. “Not just yet.”

They continued down the hall, their feet silent on the carpet, and into the wide foyer connecting the two wings of the mansion. An impressive staircase ascended to the second floor.

“Is anyone else going to be at dinner?” Mineko said.

“Yes, I think so.” Kaori placed a foot on the first step and beckoned. “He’s in the study. Let’s go distract him.”

They thumped up the stairs and arrived at the solid wooden door of her father’s study. The door was ajar, and Kaori nudged it open further. “Dearest, I’ve brought you a visitor.”

A familiar groan issued from inside. “Not another one.”

“Don’t worry. This is our favorite visitor.”

Kaori took Mineko by the shoulders and pushed her inside. Gaspar was sitting behind his desk, his back to a window overlooking the reddening sky. The weariness cleared from his face, and he leapt to his feet.

“Min!” Gaspar grabbed her hands. “What a surprise! Are you here for dinner? To stay?”

As Mineko tried to free herself from his enthusiastic grip, a deep relief stole over her, tinged with guilt. So neither of them knew about her misbehavior. “I’m here for dinner.”

“Well, that’s wonderful, but won’t you stay? Your room is all made up.”

Mineko returned his smile without enthusiasm. He was tall, fair-skinned and gangly, and his gaunt face inspired terror in his subordinates. For Mineko and Kaori, however, he only ever demonstrated indulgent affection. His famous temper was reserved for spectacular dressing-downs of house staff and security personnel.

“I can’t,” said Mineko, managing finally to rescue her hands. “If I do, I’ll miss my morning classes.”

Gaspar’s smile broadened. “And nothing could be more fatal to your education than missing a lecture on Social Ethics. What have you learned lately? What’s on these exams of yours?”

“My last class was on Social Cohesion. We’re learning what holds a society together.”

“I’ll tell you what holds it together,” said Kaori. “Steamy sex, that’s what.”

Mineko’s parents were shockingly irreverent when it came to the Code, despite both of them being tasked with its enforcement and preservation. Mineko had learned much of her cynicism from them, just as she had discovered there were limits. Levity was acceptable, but not open disapproval.

Gaspar winked at Kaori. “Marriage is the bedrock, isn’t it?”

“The bedrock for a good bedroom.” Kaori fluttered her lashes, and Gaspar laughed. They were disgusting, both of them. “I was just asking Mineko when she was going to bring us back a young man.”

“Let’s talk about dinner instead,” said Mineko. “What will we be having?”

“Imitation squid. And a chocolate cake for dessert, served with brandy. I think it’ll start around six.”

“Yes, around then.” Gaspar glanced at his watch. “Which is only thirty minutes away. In the meantime, you’ll have to entertain us with stories, Mineko.” He sat on the corner of his desk—his long legs touched the ground even seated—and gave her an expectant look. “Have you made any friends yet?”

Mineko fidgeted beneath her parents’ combined attention. “Not yet.”

“That’s such a pity. Is there a reason?”

“People get nervous when they find out who my father is.”

Gaspar winced. “I suppose they would. Well, it’s their loss, isn’t it? Perhaps you should try taking up a hobby. The University has art classes…”

A tall shadow cut across the carpet. Agent Lachlan Reed loomed in the doorway, his posture deferential but his mouth fixed in an insolent half-smile. He had a wide face with full lips, pallid skin, and large brown eyes that glittered with sarcasm. His dark hair was slicked back to accentuate his widow’s peak. To Mineko’s disbelief, she’d once overheard the maids whispering about his handsomeness.

“Good evening, ma’am.” Lachlan nodded to Kaori. “And you too, Mineko. Do you have a minute, sir?”

“Damn you, Reed. Can’t you see I’m enjoying a moment with my daughter?”

“I can see it, sir.” Lachlan ran a hand back across his scalp, a habitual gesture that surely left him with a disgustingly greasy palm. “Should we postpone our discussion of recent matters?”

“Hardly. It does Mineko good to see how our business is conducted.”

“I’m quite conscious of that. I was more concerned that a woman of her intelligence would be bored by our tedious affairs.”

“Spare me your drollness.” Gaspar growled as he pressed his fingers to his temples. “Look, dinner’s not far away. Go down and wait in the parlor, have somebody pour you a drink. Is Dr. Wren here yet?”

“Admiring your front garden, sir.”

“Make sure she has a drink too. Is she allergic to anything, do you know?”

“Well, there’s nothing listed on her file. Are you implying I ought to inquire personally?”

“Don’t be cheeky, Agent Reed.” Gaspar’s lips twitched, and the humor returned to his eyes. “Yes, ask her. The last thing I need is to kill the poor woman with mock squid and brandy.”

“Of course.” Lachlan retreated, pulling the door shut behind him. Good riddance.

Gaspar released another long sigh. “Sorry, sorry.” He gave Mineko a distracted look. “Business. Now, let’s talk about your grades…”

* * *

The dining room was modest—at least, relative to the size of the mansion—and every seat but one had been filled. Mineko sat beside Kaori, Gaspar took the head, and their two guests were seated opposite.

The first guest was Lachlan, looking wolfish as always at the prospect of a fancy Tamura meal. Beside him sat a skinny, pale woman wearing a neat black bob, a white scientist’s coverall, and a look of acute terror.

“Introductions are in order,” said Gaspar. “Dr. Wren, this is my wife, Kaori, and my daughter, Mineko. Wife and daughter, this is Dr. Valerie Wren. She’s working for me now.”

Kaori laughed. “Thank you, husband. Dr. Wren, it’s a pleasure.”

“Valerie is fine.” Valerie seemed incapable of holding eye contact for more than a few seconds. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure.”

“Hello,” said Mineko, not wanting to be left out, and Valerie gave her a nervous smile. “What are you a doctor of?”

“I’m a neuroscientist. Your father has just assigned me to a new project. It’s very…” Valerie swallowed. “Very exciting.”

Servants emerged to deliver food on platters, and Gaspar rubbed his hands as his meal was placed before him. “Feast away. Don’t hold back. There’s always more.”

An aromatic plate of pale chunks immersed in dark sauce settled before Mineko. She stabbed a piece of imitation squid and placed the salty, chewy morsel in her mouth. Washing it down with a sip of red wine, she earned a puzzled look from Valerie. Alcohol was forbidden to students, but her parents delighted in flouting the little laws.

Gaspar nodded at Lachlan. “Now’s your chance to talk my ear off.”

“Yes, sir.” Lachlan returned an untouched piece of squid to his plate. “After questioning bystanders, we’ve identified four of the five assailants.”

Mineko stopped chewing.

“I have photos on file for three.” Lachlan propped a tablet in front of him. It displayed an image of Lexi standing in a shadowed room, her handsome face inclined away from the photographer. She wore a high-collared black jacket and thick eyeliner, which contrasted with her pale face and white hair to give her a spectral appearance.

Mineko took another sip of wine. Hopefully the alcohol flush would conceal her blushing.

Kaori spoke first. “Quite a distinctive person. Is it a woman?”

“People seem to think so. Her name is Alexis Vale. Or Lexi, as she prefers. A notorious character in the districts. She has close ties to the top gangs, enough so that some of their leaders were very reluctant to provide us with information. But they all cooperated eventually.”

“Have a good look, Dr. Wren,” said Gaspar. “This is your prize specimen right here.”

“How remarkable,” said Valerie in a distracted murmur.

Kaori reached for her wine. “And should we feel sorry for her?”

“That depends on your view, ma’am,” said Lachlan. “She works as a ‘broker’—someone who facilitates deals between gangs. Selling drugs, ending wars, and cementing alliances, that sort of thing.”

“I’m sure the implant helped her build that career,” said Gaspar. “Not quite what your predecessor had in mind for his invention, Dr. Wren.”

Valerie glanced up from the food she was prodding. “I’m sure.”

Her predecessor? Mineko looked at Valerie with new interest. Then this was the head of Project Sky, and, in theory, Mineko’s greatest enemy. Though it was hard to be afraid of a timid woman struggling with a piece of imitation squid.

“So what do you have on her?” said Gaspar. “How substantial is the file?”

“I’m adding to it every day, sir,” said Lachlan. “In addition to talking to the gangs, I’ve learned a great deal from the many women she’s had intimate relations with. She left more than a few of them bearing grudges.”

“She’s a homosexual?” Kaori scowled. “Then we certainly shouldn’t feel sorry for her.”

Lachlan gave a cold smile. “It’s a different world out there, ma’am.”

He took a quick bite of squid, dabbed his lips, and swiped the screen again. This time, the image was of Kade. He was stepping from a doorway, his eyes narrowed in the direction of the photographer. A sympathetic impulse jabbed at Mineko’s chest. Did Kade know that he was being followed? How much danger was he really in?

“I know this one very well,” said Lachlan. “Kade August. He writes for the Revolutionary People’s Gazette.”

“If you know him very well, why is he on the loose?” said Kaori.

“Because I’m a dedicated subscriber. His work is very entertaining. After all, why silence the mouthpiece of dissent when we can learn from it instead?”

“Your usual Machiavellian nonsense. If it were my decision, I’d round up all these people in a single night.”

“And on we go.” Lachlan tapped the screen and summoned a covert shot of Zeke drinking at a bar, his spiked head shining beneath red-tinted light. Despite the ambience of the shot, nothing could make that odd little face seem menacing. “This is Zeke Lukas. Surgeon, body artist, club owner.”

“Ouch!” Kaori laughed. “Do you think he did that to himself?”

“Quite possibly.” Lachlan turned the screen toward Valerie. “Believe it or not, Dr. Wren, this odd individual achieved what a team of Codist scientists was unable to do.”

“I see.” Valerie didn’t meet his gaze, instead jabbing at another squid chunk. “How embarrassing for us.”

Lachlan chuckled before setting his tablet aside. “The fourth was an experienced smuggler, Calandre Roux. She’s better known as Callie. I don’t have an image of her on file, and we’re not certain why she was involved. However, she’s a known supplier for Lukas, and I believe she and Kade are acquainted.”

Cold remorse snaked its fingers around Mineko’s insides. So they hadn’t even known about Callie. It was Mineko who had dragged her into this nightmare, destroying the quiet, constructive life Callie had built for herself on the edge of civilization. Mineko filled her glass — water this time — with a shaking hand. What had she done?

“A smuggler,” said Kaori. “The less of those around, the better. They seem to think anything we leave in the open belongs to them.”

“Some compassion might be warranted. Roux was orphaned young and entered her shadowy trade at the mere age of thirteen. She’s twenty-four now. Five foot six, average build, reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, and a fair but tanned complexion. She owns a white van, which was noted at the scene. I have operatives out looking for it.”

“And you mentioned something about a fifth?” said Gaspar.

Mineko’s terror became complete. She sat still, clutching her glass but powerless to lift it. How could the onlookers not have remembered her?

“There was a confused statement about someone in a dark overall. But there was panic immediately afterward, what with the gunfire, and nobody could give a clear account of who this individual may have been.”

Mineko downed her water with a grateful gulp. Impossible as it seemed, she remained safe.

“Interesting, interesting.” Gaspar looked toward Valerie, who gave him a terrified smile. “You had the chance to observe the victims, I believe.”

“Yes, yes. They had definitely been…well, wiped.” Valerie’s left hand moved in a fluttering, agitated motion. “To varying degrees, but all of them will require substantial re-education. It’s the most frightening thing I can imagine, the technology being deployed as a weapon—”

“So it’s Project Sky,” said Lachlan.

“Yes. Project Sky. It succeeded, but…not under our watch.”

Lachlan smirked. “Well, it’s your watch now.”

“I…I, yes. Yes.” Valerie lowered her wretched gaze. “Yes, it is.”

Kaori glared at Lachlan before leaning over the table. “Tell me, Valerie, how do you like your meal?”

“Oh, it’s very…” Valerie’s nervous smile expanded into a frightened rictus. “It’s very nice. Have you ever, uh, have you ever had real squid?”

“Once, but I don’t remember how it tasted.” Kaori impaled another portion. “My grandfather despised our soy-based diet, these imitation meats. He wanted, as he put it, the ‘real thing’. He never quite wrapped his head around the fact that the real thing no longer exists. Not in any quantity.”

“They’re very intelligent, squid. I couldn’t imagine eating one.” Valerie’s attention darted around the room, lingered for a moment on Mineko and finally rested at a point somewhere above Kaori’s head. “I usually forget to eat at work, I’m so busy. Sometimes I think I might—”

“So about these people,” said Gaspar, and Valerie fell into meek silence. “You think they’ll have gone underground?”

Lachlan nodded. “I think it likely, sir. In any event, I’ll take care of this personally from now on.” He speared a piece of squid and inspected it. “I haven’t gone hunting for quite some time, but I’m sure I still have the predator instinct.”

“Oh? Back into the field, then?”

“Well, let’s be candid. I’m still the best agent you have, and we need to capture this cyborg promptly and cleanly. And then Dr. Wren will demonstrate the progress we all expect.”

Valerie took a hurried sip of water. “I think so, yes. By the way, I was wondering…well, my predecessor. Would it be possible for me to meet him? To exchange notes?”

“I’m afraid your predecessor’s career came to an abrupt end. It was thirty years ago, and several members of the Committee at that time were prone to overreacting.” Lachlan shrugged. “You know how it is.”

The dinner table fell silent. Gaspar and Kaori picked through their meals, while Lachlan continued to subject the trembling Valerie to that repugnant smile of his. It was shameful to know the threat of murder and retribution hung over her family’s dinner table, and Mineko laid down her fork and knife with a sudden clatter that turned every head toward her.

“Dr. Wren,” she said. “Valerie. You seem very pale. Would you like me to show you around the back garden? There should be a little light left.”

“Yes, that would be…” Valerie’s voice shook as she set down her cutlery. “That would be very kind, Mineko, yes. Um, I just… I’ll just drink this water first.” Her face averted from the others, she finished her glass and sighed. “If we may be excused…”

“Of course,” said Gaspar. “We’ll postpone dessert a little so that you don’t miss out. It’ll be very good. Some kind of cake, I think.”

Lachlan continued to smile at Valerie as she fumbled with her napkin and rose to her feet. “I hope the fresh air revives you, doctor. You look a little pale.” He glanced at Mineko. It was impossible to read whatever message gleamed in his eyes. “As do you, Mineko.”

Mineko matched his stare until he looked away. “I’m ready,” said Valerie. “Which way?”

* * *

In the evening gloom, the back garden seemed a sinister gathering of strange silhouettes. Nocturnal sounds filled the air: the croaking conversation of frogs, an insect whine and, in the distance, running water.

Valerie stood within a wedge of interior light and stared at the first pinpricks in the night sky. Mineko waited, tasting with each breath the crispness of the air. Though Mineko knew nothing about her new companion, it was a relief to finally be free of the tension of the dining room.

“Thank you for taking me outside.” Valerie’s twitching seemed to have subsided. “I wasn’t feeling very well, as you noticed. I ate too quickly.”

“I’m sorry Lachlan frightened you. He’s a fixture around here. They joke that I should call him Uncle Lachlan, but I don’t see the funny side.”

“I think it was just… I think I must have misunderstood what he meant.” Valerie held an electronic cigarette to her lips, and its blue glow tinted the shadows. “Do you mind me asking what it is you study?”

Was she genuinely interested, or just making small talk? “My major is Neuroethics.”

“Oh, how exciting, what a wonderful choice. Of course, I’m a neuroscientist, so I would think that. What led you to choose it?”

“When I was seven, my tutor was wiped. He’d been inventing his own stories to entertain me instead of telling ones approved by Education. Another of the house staff overhead him. Because of who I am, they gave him the maximum punishment.” Mineko stared at the tip of Valerie’s cigarette as it faded to black. “When I next saw him, he didn’t know who I was,” she said. “I begged for a story, and he gave me a blank look. ‘I don’t know any stories,’ he said.”

Valerie inclined her face into the darkness, concealing her expression. “You think what they did to him was wrong.”

There was a hint of sympathy in her voice, and Mineko was tired of lying. “I know it. The Committee once knew it. And even though they’re teaching us now that it’s right, I still know the truth.”

“You’re a very brave girl.” Valerie’s voice was soft and distant, almost a whisper. “You aren’t alone, you know. According to the few notes I inherited, my predecessor ended Project Sky because he believed it was unethical. The test subjects kept dying, you see. They were all volunteers, but still he thought…all those young men and women, those promising lives, what was the point?”

“Why were they dying?”

“The implant simply seemed to, um, I guess…overload the nervous system, I suppose you’d say. Some survived with severe brain damage, but most just…” Valerie gave an uncertain laugh. “Certainly the invention is exciting. Imagine being able to read, even manipulate, thoughts, emotions, and memories. But the cost has been terrible.”

“Can’t we do that already? Read memories?”

“No, not quite. There isn’t a computer yet invented that can encode such information for our viewing. But there is one device in nature that has that function built-in.” Valerie tapped her temple. “Project Sky was supposed to transmit data from one brain to another. Not as a digital representation of consciousness, but as an experiential one. One that we could understand on our intuitive human terms.”

This was headache-inducing stuff. “How could you possibly transmit from one brain to another?”

“Neural activity is accompanied by a kind of short-distance radiation, which exists on a spectrum we weren’t able to detect until recently. Its behavior is still unknown to us, very much a question for the physicists, but it does offer a suggestive basis for the many anecdotal tales of interaction between minds.” Valerie chuckled as she drew on her cigarette again. “It was a very controversial discovery, that one. They had to rewrite a few things, and the parapsychologists gloated for years.”

“But if what you’re saying is true, Project Sky didn’t actually work. Not in our experiments.”

“Perhaps it did.” As Valerie warmed to her subject, she accompanied her words with enthusiastic gestures. “Perhaps that’s why the subjects died—their brain couldn’t handle their new faculty. Or perhaps we had it all wrong from the beginning. We can’t know, because no one survived or remained lucid to describe what had happened to them. All the records show is that their neurons lit up in a brilliant display, and then…nothing.”

As horrifying as it sounded, Mineko couldn’t afford to betray too much emotion. She made an appropriately thoughtful sound. “I see. But this woman from the districts, she has a working implant?”

“Yes, it’s incredible. I don’t know, um, what you know…I mean, I don’t know what’s appropriate, but, uh…” Valerie hesitated, perhaps struck by the realization she was talking to a mere student.

“It’s fine. My parents like me to be informed. Why else would they talk around me at dinner?”

Valerie’s tongue darted across her lips, and she gave a quick nod. “Of course. Yes, today we saw proof that her implant is working. To some extent, anyway. At the very least, in its most destructive capacity.”

Perhaps now the conversation was getting somewhere productive. “Why do you think that is?”

“An obvious theory presents itself. We only tested on people who grew up here.” Valerie indicated the garden walls. “The Codist movement is five generations old. Thanks to our wealth and isolation, we’ve enjoyed superior conditions—fresh food, access to medicine, protection from radiation and heavy metals. The gene pool is different, the environment is different…”

It was clear where this was going, but it seemed wiser to play dumb. “Why does that matter?”

“Foundation’s greater population may contain mutations and variations that simply aren’t represented among us. This Alexis may have a genetic feature we lack. Or she may lack one that we have and which prevents the aug from working.” Valerie frowned. “Of course, there are rumors the operation was tried several times in the districts without success, so whatever this distinctive quality is, it’s not necessarily widespread.”

In other words, Lexi might be a mutant. Mineko couldn’t wait to break the good news. “Are they very different to us, the people outside?”

“Bless you, no. They’re Homo sapiens in all their diversity. I mean, uh…ethically speaking, of course, they’re tremendously different.” Valerie took a quick glance over her shoulder. “But biologically, they’re us. Even if another hundred generations passed and they became mutated beyond recognition, they would still be human. A species can accommodate many variations.”

It was hard not to like this gawky scientist with her tremulous voice and agitated mannerisms. Harder still to believe she was the one who might become responsible for the end of all free thought.

Mineko took a cautious breath and arranged her words carefully. “As a neuroethicist, I’m interested in the idea of a person reading another’s thoughts. It seems problematic to me.”

“Well, some would say so, certainly. But it could also ensure greater safety, and, uh…” Valerie lowered her eyes. “Uniformity. Which, as you know, is what we all aspire to.”

“But a species can accommodate many variations. You just said so.”

There was a long silence. Mineko’s heart thumped painfully against her ribs. Had she been too audacious?

Valerie touched the cigarette to her lips again, and the blue light flared. “I’m afraid they’ll kill me. Or wipe me. My only chance is to find this woman and study her, and what if she’s a freak and we have no way of repeating the miracle?” She moved the cigarette away and sighed. “When I applied for this position, they asked if I had family or close friends. I said no, and seeing the satisfaction on their faces, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. But it was already too late.”

Mineko remained quiet. How could she wish Valerie luck when she hoped so fervently that Project Sky would fail?

If only life were as simple as the horror movie in Zeke’s lounge. When hideous monsters were pitted against a good, resilient humankind, the sides were clear. But in this world, the enemy was her own family, and she herself wore the uniform of oppression.

“Let’s go back inside,” she said. “We’ll miss dessert.”

Valerie nodded, but neither of them moved. Instead they gazed into the shadows, both silent, as night consumed the last of the day.