by Anne Harris

In a near-future Detroit, the living polymer industry has the city in its grip. While vat-divers struggle to organize, the GeneSys Corporation works on making human workers obsolete. An escaped mutant, a con-artist and a techno-geek team up to unravel corporate blackmail, deceit and murder. One thing is certain: the city and the world will never be the same once the latest R&D development is unleashed.

Chapter 10 — Ancestor Eyes

Nathan Graham took a candicane lozenge from the dish at his bar and sucked it in frustration as he returned to his desk to sort through the mail. He had neglected it during the two weeks it took him to settle the Wichita affair. He was behind on his real work, and now there was that out of control project of Dr. Martin’s to contend with.

He had a message from Brea Jeffries, the lead personnel clerk for production. He remembered Brea. She was diligent, conscientious and had a fine eye for detail. He’d always had trouble with her. She questioned anything that did not follow strict hiring protocol. He skimmed her letter in annoyance. She was enquiring about some missing application records for a recent hire.

“I’m not in production anymore, dammit,” he growled and deposited the letter in his low priority stack. He checked his watch. It was ten o’clock. In another hour, Colin Slatermeyer would make his weekly pilgrimage to the Belle Isle Aquarium.

oOo

Nathan’s maglev parked itself beside the aquarium and he got out, admiring the delicate glass structure of the arboretum on the side of the building. He’d been here once before, years ago. They hadn’t gone inside the aquarium; they just wandered around among date palms and banana trees inside the arboretum’s domes. He remembered the heady musk of orchids and the aridity of the cactus room.

It was a strange place to come to alone, he thought as he ascended the steps to the brick archway above the entrance, but then, you probably didn’t get out of ALIVE! without being a little strange.

Inside, the aquarium was cave-like, with black and green enameled brick walls, the mortar between them dark with age. Reflections from the display windows in the walls lent the dim light a greenish, watery cast. The air was cool, and his footsteps echoed on the floor with an odd, hollow sound.

The place was nearly deserted. In fact, except for the jaded attendant who took his admission fee from him, it seemed that he and Colin had it all to themselves.

He hadn’t seen Colin yet, but he didn’t need to. He’d seen his maglev in the parking lot. Nathan strolled slowly along, looking into the tanks in the wall beyond the railing. Everything about this place, including the fish, had an air of the forgotten to it. He paused to stare at a huge gar, grey-green and ancient, its narrow, pointed nose nearly as long as his forearm. It floated there in the softly glowing water, barely moving, contemplating eternity, until he walked past and one eye swiveled to follow him.

He found Colin at the far end of the aquarium, gazing at blind, white little cave fish. He stepped up behind him quietly. “You can still see where their ancestors had eyes,” he said.

Colin jerked around, his already wide eyes bulging further when he saw who it was. “Mr. Graham!” he said in alarm, and then quickly feigned pleased surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Nathan waved at the tanks, “Same as you, looking at fish.”

He laughed nervously, “That’s weird. I’ve never seen you here before, I come here all the time and-”

“I know.”

That shut him up. He closed his mouth, his expression one of studied neutrality; waiting.

“You think I came here to talk to you. You’re right. You’re a very talented young man, Colin. I’ve been meaning to tell you how pleased I am to have you on our research team at GeneSys. We’re very excited about your doctoral thesis, ‘Recombinant Percolation of Basic Proteins in Eukaryotic Sheeting’. I’ve been discussing it with the people in departmental and we think it could be big. A whole new direction for development at GeneSys. And since you’ve done the groundbreaking work on it, well, naturally...” he broke off, and shook his hands in front his face. “Let me just say, for now, that I think the folks back home would be durn proud, that’s all.” He stopped and smiled, watching him.

Colin stood there, his arms limp at his sides, his mouth open. Slowly he shook his head, his brows knitted together, “What’s this all about?”

“You’re from downriver, aren’t you Colin? That’s what I like, a good local boy. Did you know I was born in Detroit? I was. Grew up in Oz, later Roseville. I remember after high school, everyone talking about where they were going to go. It never occurred to me to move away. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Yeah?” Colin shrugged cynically. “Well, the only thing I miss about home is having Sundays off. That’s why I come here; to observe the day of rest.”

“You’re part of that religious community down there, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah. ‘Religious community’, that’s putting it politely. Cult is more like it.”

“Mmm. I take it then that you would not welcome an opportunity to return.”

His nostrils flared in alarm, “No, I would not.”

“That’s good, that’s good. We need you here. Doctor Martin needs you, I’m sure. He’s very tight-lipped about this tetra project and I sense that things are not... as they should be.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, Colin,” Graham put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him conspiratorially. “Why were you demonstrating biopolymer properties to me in connection with a project to lower production costs? Why haven’t I seen any agule density ratios on the test vats? Why haven’t I seen the test vats?”

Colin stepped away from him. “Dr. Martin is very particular about laboratory conditions. Any outside influence would taint the results of our research.”

“And the density ratios?”

Colin stared at him. Graham could see him trying to think of something to say. “If you ask Dr. Martin, I’m sure he’d be happy to provide you with those figures.”

“Sure, after he’s doctored them to show me what I want to see. No. I want you to tell me — how bad are they?”

Colin was shaking visibly now, unable to make eye contact with him. “I can’t give you any information on that,” he said, and started walking away.

“That’s too bad,” said Graham, raising his voice until it echoed off the walls. “Personally I think you have way too much talent to waste away in that downriver Bible cult, but then, it’s your funeral.”

That got him. He turned around. “I’m not going back there. I’m never going back there.”

“Really? Well, when you lose your fellowship here, and you can’t get another job anywhere in the industry, what else will you do? And when ALIVE! learns about how you’ve been holding out on them, they may take matters into their own hands.”

Colin stared at him, his face, at first red with rage, turned pale.

Nathan strolled slowly over to him. “You’re at a critical juncture in your career, Colin. Consider carefully. Hector Martin is a great man, I know. You’re admiration of him is perfectly justified, but let’s face it. He’s already had his moment, and now it’s passed. For you, it’s all to come. Don’t cheat yourself out of your full potential through a misguided sense of loyalty. You deserve better than that. You deserve better, quite frankly, from Dr. Martin than to be sidetracked for — what, three years? — on a project that’s never going to accomplish its objective.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t sell Dr. Martin so short if I were you. You saw that biopoly, and if you could see the tetras...”

“But that’s just the point. How is he, how are you, ever going to get recognition for the work if you don’t let anybody see it?”

“You don’t get it, do you? You think Dr. Martin cares that a bunch of bean counters know his name. You think that’s what I want. That’s not it, and it’s not the money either. It’s the work. It’s fascinating, it’s its own reason.”

“I see. How nice. But are you so firmly ensconced in that ivory tower not to recognize that if somebody doesn’t start cooperating with me, there isn’t going to be any project anymore? I can get it canceled, and if I have to put up with much more of this nonsense, I will. Do you think I enjoy running out on my Sundays to little out of the way places for clandestine meetings with lab assistants? Do you think I have nothing better to do?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you out here. You wanted to talk to me.”

“That’s right, that’s right. But now my patience is at its end. Are you going to tell me what’s going on with this project, or are you going to start brushing up on the scriptures?”

Colin watched a manta ray glide past the glass at his side, its edges fluttering. His chin dipped in an almost imperceptible nod.

“Why won’t Martin let me see the test vats?”

Colin laughed and raised his hands to his face. “That’s simple. We can’t get in.”

oOo

Colin Slatermeyer pushed his cafeteria tray down the line, paused to peer doubtfully at the cello molded dessert of the day — piled high with lactose foam and glowing an impossible orange — and made his way to the soda fountain.

He took a seat at the table with Greenfield, Pincus, Utreje and Johns. “That all you’re having?” said Greenfield, eyeing the cup on his tray.

Colin shrugged. “I’m not hungry.” He took a long pull on his cola.

“So how’s Dr. Martin’s project coming along?” asked Johns.

Greenfield shook his head. “I think it’s a dead end.”

“He’s not going to reach his objective?” Utreje said, leaning forward.

Greenfield shrugged. “I don’t see how.”

Colin swallowed hurriedly. “So what if he doesn’t? The research has already provided some really remarkable side-dividends. The blue biopoly being produced in the test vats, for instance. It’s amazing stuff. With a bucky ball side group containing trapped silver ions, it’s an electricity conductor, and it’s at least as malleable and durable as any of the top-line biopolymer’s GeneSys is producing now.”

“But he was supposed to find a way to cut production overhead, not invent a new biopoly,” said Pincus, pushing mashed potatoes around on her plate.

Colin snorted. “So what? Everyone knows that’s not the way research works. Most of the time the things you find out while trying to accomplish a particular goal turn out to be more important than the goal itself.”

Johns raised his eyebrows. “That’s not the way Nathan Graham sees it.”

“Nathan Graham is an idiot,” observed Utreje.

“But he’s a powerful idiot,” said Greenfield. “He came by our lab the other day, throwing his weight around, wanting to know when the project would be ready for field testing. He scared the hell out of Dr. Martin.”

“What an asshole that guy is,” said Pincus, shaking a french fry. “He asked me to keep separate records when I was working with Dr. Vine on that base phase bonding thing.”

“You’re kidding, really?” said Johns.

“Oh no. He’s always pulling shit like that. What do you expect? He’s from production.”

“So did you?” asked Johns.

Pincus snorted, “Please. I told him if he wanted a worm, he could look under a rock.”

“Ooh, what did he do?” asked Greenfield.

“Nothing. What could he do? He didn’t have anything on me. It would have attracted too much attention if he fired me. Dr. Vine would have asked questions.”

Colin stared at his cafeteria tray, wishing he had taken the cello after all. It would have given him something to do with his hands. He picked up his soda, gripping it hard, and forced himself to drink.

“Yeah, but you were lucky,” said Utreje. “He must have been in a good mood that day, man. I heard about this guy who handed an accounting report in to him late. Graham made him take off his pants and throw them out the window, along with the report.”

“Boy, I’d sure hate to be under his thumb,” said Greenfield.

“He’s ruthless,” said Utreje. “Martin should be scared, if Graham’s on his case. They say once he’s got something on you, he never lets you go.”

Colin raised the cellofoam cup to his mouth once more, squeezing it so hard it broke, spilling ice and cola in his lap.