Skyfall Page 8
The Prelate began to stand, but Janil cleared his throat and spoke. ‘Excuse me, Madam Prelate, if I might make one final comment?’
‘Janil …’ his father began, but the Prelate held up a hand to silence him.
‘It’s fine, Doctor Mann. Of course your son is entitled to make any observations he feels are’ – she paused – ‘absolutely pertinent to this present situation.’
Lari thought he caught a glimpse of wariness behind the city leader’s eyes as she eased back into her chair. There was definitely some kind of warning in her words, but Lari, who was feeling as out of place here as he had in the res-rec dome, couldn’t decipher it. He didn’t miss the angry glance his father threw at Janil, though. His brother ignored it.
‘I want to reiterate that I think we’re making an enormous mistake bringing superfluous elements into this project.’ He nodded in Lari’s direction without actually looking at him. ‘DGAP is quite capable of handling the subject, and given the potential of the entropy scenario—’
The man sitting beside Janil cut him off, coldly.
‘I shouldn’t have to remind you that you and your father have yet to scientifically demonstrate your doomsday theory and that it therefore has no place in our consideration of this current situation.’
‘First, it’s not just our theory. It was first developed by my mother who, as you know, was one of the most respected scientific minds this city has ever produced,’ Janil snapped back. ‘Second, you can deny it all you want but the evidence is right in front of you! And even if you wish it wasn’t so, this morning’s development will clearly have an enormous impact on every single person living in the sky cities. If you’d actually consider the wider implications of—’
‘I don’t have to consider anything, Janil,’ the man responded with a grim smile. ‘Not until you have something more solid to offer than the musings of your mother’s ghost.’
‘That will do, both of you.’ The Prelate didn’t raise her voice but all the same it oozed authority. ‘Janil, I understand your concerns, but we consider the entropy idea to be at best a fairly extreme case scenario for the city, and I for one would prefer not to have it discussed any further, in this or any other meeting.’
‘With respect, Madame Prelate, it’s not that—’
‘That’s enough, Janil.’ Their father’s voice echoed off the bare walls, and the colour rose in Janil’s cheeks.
‘Thank you, Doctor Mann.’ The Prelate threw Dernan Mann a tight smile. ‘Now, if there’s nothing further, this meeting is adjourned. Please keep me personally informed of all developments.’
She rose, but before she’d even left the table Janil stormed from the room without another word. Lari watched him go.
‘Larinan?’
He turned to find the Prelate standing behind him. Up close, her skin was so pale as to be almost translucent, and impossibly smooth. Her smile exuded warmth, but there was a cold glitter behind her pale blue eyes.
‘I just wanted to welcome you informally to the project. I’m certain you’ll enjoy being part of DGAP.’
‘I … but…’
‘Obviously I’m pleased to see you finally taking your rightful place here alongside your father and brother. Your mother would be very proud, I’m sure.’
The man beside her leaned in and whispered something and the Prelate nodded.
‘I’m afraid I have to go now, but it’s been a pleasure meeting you. We’ll cross paths again before long, I’m quite certain.’
Then she turned and swept from the room, leaving a confused Lari staring after her.
Sometimes Dreamer Wanji is there with her.
‘You gotta reach, girl’
‘I’ve tried. I can’t.’
‘You gotta. You’re the only one that can, now.’
‘But it’s too cold.’
‘Hah! You gonna let a little skyfire stop you reachin’, then you’re not half the dreamer I thought. Now go on, do it. Reach. Find the Earthmother.’
So she reaches. But there’s no earthwarmth here. No living rock to draw into herself.
Only hard, cold, nothingness.
And it doesn’t matter how deep she goes, how far she plunges into the cold, it just keeps on going.
‘You can do better than that, girl. Night spirits! Even an old bugger like me could give it a better shot.’
She shakes her head.
‘I can’t. The cold …’
But the old man isn’t listening any more. He’s fading into the cold. Into the void. And then he’s gone.
Desperately, she flings herself after him, reaching, pouring herself out into the white.
But the old man is no longer there, and soon she’s falling again. Falling …
Janil seethed. His footsteps echoed angrily off the bare walls of the corridor as he stamped towards the lab.
Fools, the whole lot of them, including his father.
That was the most irritating part, he decided: having to sit and watch his father – Dernan Mann, who’d always been so strong, so decisive, so … scientific – sitting there letting the bloody Prelate blindly ignore what was there in front of her. Stupid shi! It was all so calculated, so political, so inexcusable.
He’d laugh in their faces when the world fell down around them, that was certain.
A couple of tired-looking field agents scurried out of his way as he stormed along the passage.
And the copygen. Try as he might, Janil couldn’t come up with a single reason for his father suddenly bringing Lari into DGAP. And not just into the agency, but right into research. He even brought the little bugger into the meeting, for sky’s sake!
For as long as Janil could remember, his younger brother had been an embarrassment, a source of shame, but at least Janil had always had somewhere to retreat to – first to his studies and then to his work.
Not anymore though. Just thinking about the little shi’s smug expression when he’d walked into that committee room made Janil want to punch something. Or someone. And he could think of a couple of people he’d like to start with, too.
The door to the lab slid aside when he waved his wristband across the reader, and Janil grabbed an interface pad off one of the benches, then strode towards the lock on the far side.
‘Janil, can I get your opinion on these readouts?’ A science engineer – one of the mid-level techies – looked up from her terminal as Janil went by.
‘Not right now.’ He passed the woman without even breaking stride, reached the door to the obs room, and scanned it open.
‘What’ve you got going on in there, anyway?’ the woman asked as he stepped into the lock.
‘Nothing to concern you,’ he snapped, as the doors closed him in.
The only light in the obs room came in through the big clearcrete windows from the exposure chamber, heavily filtered and safe. Janil stood for a moment in the pale gloom and breathed in deeply, calming himself.
Be scientific. Always. If you haven’t got your objectivity, you haven’t got anything.
Down in the chamber, the girl – the subject – lay where they’d left her that morning, stretched out on the central podium, still heavily tranqued into coma. They’d keep her that way for a few days yet, Janil knew. That would give him time to run the tests he needed, and to take samples: blood, hair, skin, bone marrow, a cortex biopsy … the list went on and on. They’d keep her hydrated and fed intravenously. There was no choice there, anyway; Port City didn’t have the sort of solid nutrition she was used to. When they’d established their approach protocols, they’d wake her and he’d go in and they could start on socialisation.
She looked so small. So tiny.
Stop it! He shook his head. She’s a subject. Nothing more. She’s DNA and melanin and blood and flesh. Just like all the others.
Except there wouldn’t be any others. Not now. Sky! Even this one was an unexpected bonus, a last gasp. She was it, and if he and his father couldn’t unlock the secrets hidden away inside every f
ibre, tissue and protein of her body, there was no future for any of them.
Try telling that to the Prelate, though.
Actually, telling her wasn’t the difficult bit. He’d told her in the meeting and in the report he’d submitted six months earlier – the report she hadn’t even acknowledged receiving. No, telling the Prelate was easy. Convincing her, though, that was something else. Janil punched a couple of commands into the interface and immediately the readout began scrolling past:
CONFIDENTIAL: FOR PRELATE’S EYES ONLY
The Entropy Scenario
A report outlining trends in socio-cultural, political and genetic breakdown in Port SkyCity, based on estimates first predicted by Dr E. Mann
By Janil Mann, DGAP research division
In the late 21st century a series of floods and volcanic eruptions, attributed to rapid, large-scale climate change, led to the destabilisation of a large number of fission reactors and waste storage facilities throughout Asia, Australasia, Eastern China and along the western seaboards of both North America and South America. In the wake of these disasters, known collectively today as the Pacific Circle Catastrophe, it was decided by the federal powers of several nations that a viable alternative was needed to existing modes of human societal interactivity. This would, by necessity, require the modelling of a range of alternative approaches to human social evolution, covering both the broad picture and the minutiae of human society …
The words scrolled by, so familiar that Janil could have recited them, had he wanted to. He stabbed at an icon and the words jumped ahead.
… This conclusion would seem to be inevitable at this point. As outlined in sections 23 and 24 above, there are a number of possible methods of combating these trends, but these are, at best, symptomatic treatments which will without doubt fail to address the underlying causes of social and infrastructural breakdown within the fabric of this and other skycities.
The notions of entropy used to define this trend are still sketchy and, as mentioned earlier, the term itself is flawed. However, as this report outlines, I believe that a quantifiable measurement of the degree to which energy is leaching from the city’s systems, and the degree of degradation of the protocols which have for a millennium kept that energy confined and viable, is possible given the time and the resources. Furthermore, I believe that studies into the socio-cultural impacts of this slow breakdown should be commissioned without delay …
And there it was, right in front of them, but did they listen? No, of course not. It wasn’t what the Prelate wanted to hear, so she simply decided not to. And his father, of all people, had simply let her.
Whirling, Janil flung the interface at the wall behind him, as hard as he could. It bounced and fell to the floor without so much as a scratch.
‘So much for breakdown and decay.’ Janil smiled a mirthless smile before turning back to the windows.
The girl looked vaguely otherworldly. It wasn’t just the colour of her body, either. After five years of fieldwork, Janil had become accustomed to the sight of sun-darkened skin, though he still found it difficult to believe there’d been a time when everyone looked like this.
No, it was just the fact of her, of her very existence. And the timing – her turning up now, right when it might already be too late and throwing everything off balance, out of kilter. Even his father wasn’t behaving rationally all of a sudden.
‘Perhaps I should kill you.’ Janil’s voice echoed in the empty room. ‘In a lot of ways, I’d be doing you a favour. You’re in for a tough few months.’ He’d seen the footage of what had happened to this girl’s mother, seen the tests, read the results, seen what happened in the end. That girl down in the chamber would never touch the ground again, he knew. She’d never see the sun, not really, and never breathe air that wasn’t mixed and measured. He’d be doing her a kindness.
It took only a couple of seconds to retrieve the interface pad and call up the command menu controlling the gas mix in the chamber. One command and she’d never even wake up. Then the Prelate would have to face up to what was in that report; she’d have no choice. Without the false hope this girl offered, they’d all have to pay attention.
His finger touched the icon and he entered the command that would change the ratio of carbon monoxide in the chamber.
Confirm command execution?
Janil Mann’s finger hovered above his interface. His eyes slipped again to the girl lying below, bathed in hard, white light.
His com chimed.
‘Janil, where are you?’
His father’s voice. Janil considered staying silent, but that wouldn’t achieve anything. It would take Dernan Mann less than a minute to check the scan logs and find out where he was.
‘I’m in obs.’
‘Meet us in my office, please. We need to talk. The three of us.’
‘I’ll be there in a moment.’
Confirm command execution?
Janil hesitated.
No.
His finger barely brushed against the display, which immediately reverted to its holding menu. He took one last look down at the girl. Even from up here he could make out the slight rise and fall of her chest as she slept, unaware of how close she’d been to never waking. He almost envied her.
‘I’m sorry. I really am.’
Even his whisper was reflected back at him off the bare walls. He wasn’t certain if he was apologising to the girl or to himself. Sky! He wasn’t certain if he was apologising for almost killing her or for not having the nerve. Turning away, Janil crossed back through the lock, through the lab and into the corridor beyond.
Unlike a few minutes earlier, now Janil walked calmly. For a minute he’d held the power of life and death in his hands and it was a sobering experience.
At the door of his father’s office, Janil hesitated. Perhaps he could just keep on walking – out of DGAP, out of research – and leave it all behind.
‘And go where?’ he muttered. When you lived in a skycity, you were always trackable. Always. Walking away wouldn’t solve anything. They’d just track him down and pull him back in, whether he wanted it or not.
‘Shi.’
Janil flicked his wrist across the scanner and opened the door, hating himself for it.
‘What was all that about?’ Lari turned on his father the moment Dernan Mann’s office door slid shut behind them.
‘Calm down, Larinan.’
‘Calm down? The city Prelate just welcomed me to DGAP as a member of the project and told me how thrilled she is to see me taking “my rightful place” here. What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means you’ve finally received your placement, Lari. I should have thought that was obvious. You knew the city wouldn’t allow you to sit around burning up resources forever.’
‘What if I don’t want to accept?’
‘You already have. I told Lan to make sure you were officially approved and signed in before he permitted you into the meeting with the Prelate.’
‘You mean those documents he made me sign?’
His father nodded.
‘Your official acceptance-of-placement documents, assigning you to research division here.’
‘But I’ve never shown any interest in working here.’
‘You’ve never shown any interest in anything much, Larinan. In any case, you know this is our family field, so I don’t understand why you’re so surprised.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ Lari shook his head, angry. ‘I just feel … cheated.’
‘Trust me, copygen, you’re not the only one.’ Janil rose from a chair beside their father’s desk, where he’d been sitting.
‘That’ll do, you two,’ Dernan Mann snapped. ‘Janil, you made your feelings on the matter quite clear in the meeting.’
‘Not clear enough, obviously.’ Janil snorted in disgust and stood to leave.
‘Sit down, Janil.’
‘Why? Obviously my opinions carry very little weight around here.’
‘There was no need to bring the copygen into this, and you know it.’
‘That’s what you believe. I happen to see it differently and I’m still the head of research around here!’ It was as sharp as Lari had ever heard his father speak to Janil.
‘I don’t need to hear this.’
‘Janil, I won’t ask again. This involves you just as much as it does Larinan. Now sit!’
Janil flopped sullenly back into his seat.
‘You still haven’t told me what’s made you suddenly call me in,’ Lari observed. For a long moment his father stared at him, then at Janil, and then he looked away, fingers massaging his temples as he did so.
‘A ghost, Larinan.’
‘Excuse me?’ Lari thought he must have misheard, but his father repeated it.
‘A ghost. Someone we believed was dead a long time ago.’
‘Do you mean Mum?’
His father shook his head. ‘No. Though she’s an important part of this.’
‘Then what?’
‘I know you’ve both often wondered why your mother and I chose to break protocol and have a second son, instead of following it and having a daughter.’
‘I always presumed you were just looking for more ways to make us popular with the rest of the city,’ Janil muttered, but their father didn’t rise to the bait.
‘As I’m sure you can imagine, it wasn’t easy, choosing to set ourselves apart from such long-established social rules, but we had to make our decision quickly, and the more we thought about it, the more we came to the conclusion that there wasn’t any alternative.’
‘That’s not surprising. There’s never any alternatives with you, is there, Father? You always know what’s best for everyone.’
‘Janil, if you’d be quiet and listen, you might realise that even you don’t have all the pieces to put together.’
‘Then tell me, Father! Tell me what’s so important about him that we should put everything we’re doing here at risk just to include him in it? I’m the one who’s done all the work, I’m the one who’s spent my whole life filling Mum’s place, but now that we’ve finally – unbelievably – found what we need to bring this thing to a close, you suddenly call little Larinan in for his share of the glory. Explain that to me!’