Darwin's Paradox (9 page)

Julie
walks SAM’s cold matrix with unease. No longer sparkling, the crystal walkway under her feet ripples as if alive and she feels her stomach twist with alarm. As the cloying wind blows into her face like an old man’s putrid breath, Julie knows she will see the dark figure again. Feet moving mechanically, against her will, she rounds the corner and encounters the dark figure. It beckons her and she recoils, but skids uncontrollably forward. Trying not to look into the shadowy face, she demands in a splintering voice,
What do you want with me?

[You must not struggle, Julie Crane. It is time to complete the joining...]

Never! Leave me alone!
Shuddering, she’s drawn nearer to the figure still. Its arms reach out for her and she cringes, knowing somehow that if it touches her she will perish. The cowl of the figure’s robe falls back, revealing its face. Her own face, strangely distorted.
NO!

Julie bolted awake to her own outcry. Blinking away the sleep and sweat clouding her vision, she realized that she was lying on a comfortable bed, covered in soft sheets. Heart still pounding, she pulled in a ragged breath as she untangled the turmoil of post-dream emotions that poured through her. That had been less a dream than vision...or communication. A jolt of adrenalin surged up her chest. If that was Darwin creeping unbidden into her mind, intruding...What did Proteus want?

Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she raised herself on an elbow and surveyed herself and the room. She was wearing a silky nightdress and she wasn’t in a Med-Center. The room was too nice, containing expensive furniture and personally decorated with art. She saw a desk with a Vee-com, and a glass door to a patio outside, revealing a sunny day. There was no sign of her old heath clothes. They’d probably been recycled, she thought sadly.

Julie sat up, feeling completely strengthened. A quick inspection revealed that her arm was totally healed. Nuergery and Icaria’s wonderful nano-drugs, no doubt. She ran her hands over her bare arms and legs and confirmed nuyu-smooth skin. Cuts, tears and scars had been healed and she was smoother than she’d ever been. She was reminded of the first time she’d been treated without being asked, when she’d been brought back to the outer-city after searching unsuccessfully for her lost sister. They’d straightened her teeth then. She wondered what they’d done to her this time. Coloured her hair? She pulled a strand in front of her eyes to inspect and smiled with relief. No, they’d left her sun-streaked hair alone.

As she focused outward she noticed someone seated quietly in a chair near one of two closed doors. It was Frank. Arms folded over his chest and one leg crossed loosely over his thigh, he was looking directly at her with a thoughtful look and eyes the colour of a stormy sea. He smiled cautiously when he noticed her looking at him.

She tilted her head and returned his smile with a wry one. “You the guard?”

He smirked. “To keep the notorious Julie Crane from rampaging Icaria, you mean?”

She let her smile fade. “Something like that.” The last time she’d seen him, she had been tearing around Icaria and half the Pols chasing her, with Frank, barely mended from her shot, leading the pack.

He nodded soberly then turned the chair around and sat down again, folding his arms over the backrest. “Wrong. Like you were about a lot of things back then.”

“So it seems,” she returned, thinking about Darwin. Was it possible she’d misread him that time when he and Vadim’s gang had cornered her and Daniel in that inner-city mall?

“Oh, I had Darwin, all right,” he answered her unspoken question with a glower. “Pretty bad, too. But miracles do happen in Icaria.”

She wondered how that had been possible. Had Burke managed to find a cure that fast? The bitterness she’d detected in Frank’s voice...Did he blame her for his sickness?

“So,” he said with a frosty smile, “imagine my delight the day I dutifully gave Burke your data cube and discovered that I’d been infected with Darwin by none other than
Prometheus
herself.”

“Frank, I didn’t know until after we broke up that I was
Prometheus
...and I don’t think I passed it—”

“Yes, the woman who willingly exchanged her bodily fluids with me for
months
without telling me that she had Darwin “

“I didn’t know!”

“Then left me once she was sure I was dying from it.” He leaned forward. “You knew all the signs, sweetheart.” His smile grew surly. “Elegant revenge—I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

They’d each had reason to invoke revenge: Frank’s father had arrested hers for a murder he didn’t commit, and Julie’s father had supposedly incriminated his as a Dystopian, which he wasn’t. Both had died maligned.

She gave up trying to convince him that she hadn’t known. The information on the cube had incriminated her. She’d have a hard time proving that she’d only discovered herself that she was
Prometheus
after they’d broken up. SAM had provided evidence to suggest that she couldn’t pass it on. But Frank wouldn’t listen to that; he was too set on blaming her. And maybe he was right.

“But, just like you escaped execution, I escaped death. Not only did I defeat Darwin in me,” he went on, “I’m now the Head Pol.” He laughed sharply at her stunned expression. “So, no harm done, eh?” he ended in a mock cavalier voice. She had no response for that and bowed her head.

After some silence, he asked, “How are
you
feeling?”

She looked up to meet his eyes. “Much better, thank you,” she said honestly and searched his face for genuine forgiveness. She couldn’t find it.

“That was some nightmare you just had,” he said, obviously expecting her to elaborate.

She didn’t. “How long have I been here?”

“Since yesterday. You were in the Pielou Med-Center for two days until I had you returned here. Don’t you remember anything?”

She blinked with a thoughtful frown and let her gaze drift as she sifted through fragments of memories...or dreams...or feverish visions...it was hard to separate them, they all ran together like a water-colour painting left in the rain. They churned in a maelstrom of burning images and sensations. Blistering pain flaming through her—
that
was real. Bright lights hurting her eyes...foreign faces peering at her and discussing her by name ...sighing into a soft pillow and being held in a warm embrace...inhaling a man’s scent...hearing Daniel’s soothing whispers—that had to be a dream...or was it? Her narrowed eyes snapped to Frank’s.

“Seems you do remember,” he said with a smirk as her expression of confusion bloomed into distress with understanding. “That’s my bed you’re in,” he ended, openly appraising her with smug pleasure. “This is my office suite and you bathed in my bathtub.” He pointed to the other door. But he was looking elsewhere.

She followed his devouring gaze to where her skimpy nightdress revealed the contours of her breasts. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she brought the sheet up over her. As if in response to her action, his eyes narrowed. Was he insulted by her sudden coyness? During their torrid affair years ago when he was a Pol in the Shadow Unit, he had never taken her home. Now she was lying in his bed. Had he lain beside her delirious body last night? And touched her? Of course he had. She felt her anger spike like a hot knife twisting inside her. “You took advantage of me.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said pointedly. “But I could have.”

“By whose definition—”

“So, after all these years why did you decide to come back?” he demanded.

“Decide?” she retorted, straightening up in the bed. “I was kidnapped by your cronies. Tyers, who works under Dykstra, I take it works for you as a Secret Pol.”

“But you wanted to come back,” Frank insisted, avoiding her question. “Tyers said you’d abandoned your family and were heading for Icaria-5.”

Julie swallowed and wondered if she’d imagined his voice soften with compassion. She couldn’t trust him with the truth...yet. “I had my reasons.”

He studied her for a moment, then straightened suddenly as if he’d made a decision. “Well.” His voice was crisp again. “You look well enough to take a journey.” He stood up and tossed her the Com-Center clothes and turned toward the door. “Get dressed.”

“What about my other clothes?” she blurted out. “The clothes I came in?”

He didn’t turn or answer her. “I’ll get Tyers—”

“Wait Frank. Please,” she said, pleading. “Why am I here? What do you want of me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, turning his head only slightly to speak to her. He left the room and the door shut behind him with a soft nick.

“Okay,
let me do all the talking,” Daniel said sternly to his willful daughter as they peered through the bushes at their gateway into Icaria, the glass tower rising from the outer-city rubble that rippled in the heat. “Remember, I used to live here.”

“That was twelve years ago, Dad,” she reminded him. “Things probably changed a lot since then. Like that skyship we borrowed.”

He frowned at her and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Smart aleck,” he murmured. She was alluding to his less than impressive ability to pilot the skyship, despite the fact that he used to drive tubejets, Icaria’s commuter trains. Once Angel had convinced him to use the skyship, it was she who eventually figured out how to drive the odious thing and navigate to the towers of Icaria. The skyship had saved them three weeks of travel, which meant that they were now hot on Julie’s heels. Daniel noticed Angel staring at the towering structure that rose like a shining sentinel out of the ruins of the surface city and realized with wry amusement that she’d never seen a building higher than one story before.

“It’s magnificent,” she said.

“Is it?” he teased, following her gaze up. Wait until you see the inside, he thought.

Angel tugged the sleeve of his leather shirt. She looked concerned. “Dad, do you hear it too?” To his puzzled frown, she explained, “Those funny sounds...in my head.”

“Your mother heard them too.” He patted her on the shoulder as if to console her. “Don’t worry, they’re just the lower forms of artificial intelligence in the city talking to each other. You can hear them for the same reason that you and your mom can ‘talk’ to each other. Just ignore them.”

“Okay, Dad,” she said, tilting and shaking her head as if trying to get rid of water in her ears. That confirmed it: his daughter was a veemeld like her mother. And like her mother, one with special talents, he thought.

After stashing their packs, Daniel approached the building. He glanced down at the old service card he’d kept all these years and wondered if it would still work on the entrance door. This was not exactly the place he wanted to be. In fact, it was the last place he wanted to be. No great memories here. Except meeting his beloved Julie. She was the best thing that happened to him in Icaria. Now he had to go back in and try to find her and get her out. And he didn’t think it would be easy. First he had to convince his stubborn wife to leave. Then he had to convince Icaria to let her go. He thought of another possibility, one that had ached deep inside him and surfaced now. There was the awful but very possible chance that she was in no shape to leave or was even dead. He recalled those assassins she’d lured away from camp, for instance. Who had seized his wife? What if they’d taken her to the DP and conducted debilitating experiments on her? Turned her into a half-machine, eyes vacant and tubes coiling out of her into some immense A.I. device—

“Daddy?” Angel looked at him expectedly.

“Think they still speak English?” Daniel winked at her, then drew in a deep breath.

In a few springing steps Angel beat him to the door. When she tried the door it refused to open. She turned back to her father with a frown.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her with a smirk. “This might work.” He held out the old card. “And if it doesn’t, I’ll find some other way. I was pretty good with technical stuff in my day,” he said, recalling how he’d tapped into the cyber-network to feed and clothe his fellow techno-slummers in the inner city. He extended the card, secretly wondering if they were setting off some alarm inside, and couldn’t pass it over the reader. His hand didn’t want to do it.

Angel took it gently from his hand and waved the card and they heard a soft click. Angel shrieked gleefully. “Look! The door’s opening!”

Too easy, Daniel thought and managed a wry smile. I’m starting to think like my wife. He put a finger to his lips, indicating silence, and walked through the open doorway. It led into an empty hallway with another door. Once they entered, he shut the outside Exit door behind him and felt a strange foreboding he couldn’t shake off. Exhaling, he led Angel to the next door. She was looking around her at the smooth peach-coloured walls and floor with interest. Just you wait, little one, he thought, waving his card at the next door. There’s more, he thought. So much more...

When he opened the inner door, they were assaulted by a dizzying cacophony of sounds, smells and images that made Angel start with surprise and gawk. Despite his unease with this place, Daniel couldn’t help laughing at his overwhelmed daughter. She’d just entered her first mall.

***

A lot was the same. But a lot was different too, Daniel thought, noticing the inordinately high number of droids in the milling crowd as he surveyed Darwin Mall with his daughter and fought from wincing at every booming sound; he hadn’t remembered this place so noisy. Daniel swallowed self-consciously as they navigated the moving sea of dazzling colours. Instead of quietly blending in, they stood out of the crowd in their faded clothes like blazing holo ads.

Angel’s excitement drew him out of his dark thoughts and he let his gaze drift beyond the crowd. He’d forgotten how splendid Darwin Mall was with its vaulted arches of white light, intoxicating music and heady perfumes. As he watched Angel gawking in wide-eyed wonder, he was keenly aware of the mall’s alluring qualities. As though she’d entered an enchanted land, Angel kept snapping her head left and right then up to catch everything.

She pirouetted and twirled giddily as if animated by some invisible puppeteer. As if afraid to miss something. Like the giant moving holos above...the rushing sound of Icarians who sounded like a flock of chattering birds ...the many droids that plied through the sea of people like shiny vessels...the glittering shops and restaurants and strobing signs that beckoned even the most seasoned Icarian with their alluring messages of pleasure and delights.

Once Angel had become used to all the people, she maneuvered the crowd easily, pulling Daniel along and bombarding him with questions: “What are those things they wear on their heads?”

“Vee-sets, darling. Like wearing a vee-com.”

“What’s a vee-com?”

“It’s a machine that thinks for you.” Big frown.

“The people look like machines,” she said. He had to agree; some looked mostly machine. Then Angel’s eyes lit up, “Who are they? How come they can fly like that?” Pointing to the holo ads floating above them.

“Those are holos, three-dimensional projections. They’re not real, Angel.” The feeling of discomfort, of conspicuousness returned.

“Look at that!” Pulling him toward a park. “They stuck part of the heath inside the mall!” Acutely aware that people were staring at them now.

“I think we should leave the mall, darling...” He sensed the crowd drawing away from them as if they had some disease—

“Show me your ID,” a baritone voice commanded. Daniel turned, hand still clutching Angel’s, and felt the surge of alarm. It was a Pol dressed in beetle black. The crowd continued to swarm around them, leaving an empty space around the trio.

With a convulsive swallow, Daniel fought from cowering and started to stammer an incoherent reply, when Angel spoke up, “We lost them. Are you a cyborg?”

The Pol’s mouth grew stern, eyes hidden beneath his opaque visor. He towered over Daniel like a behemoth. Everything about him was huge. His chest distended like a barrel and his arms were as thick as Daniel’s legs. Ignoring Angel’s question, he asked Daniel in an unfriendly voice, “How did you manage to lose your I.D.s?”

“We-we...” Daniel stuttered desperately, his mind blank.

“We came in from Icaria-6 and left our I.D.s on the transport,” Angel said with a friendly smile.

The Pol decided wisely to direct his next questions to the girl and bending a little to look at her directly, he asked in a softer voice, “What’s your name?”

“Angel,” she said before Daniel could stop her. “Angel Woods. And that’s my dad, Daniel.” She pointed to Daniel, who was trying hard not to look agitated. But Angel seemed to have disarmed the Pol. The man was almost smiling.

“What’s your business here?” asked the Pol, now glancing at Daniel.

Daniel started, “We’re here to—”

“Look for my mother,” Angel said. “Julie Crane.”

Time stopped.

Daniel’s stomach heaved. His heart hammered and he thought of seizing Angel and pelting out of there. Then his gaze fell on the Pol’s gun.

“I see,” the Pol said. His mouth tightened and it was obvious that he knew who Julie Crane was. “I think you better come with me.” His hand now rested on the gun.

“Do you know where she is?” Angel asked him, completely unaware of what she’d done.

“The legendary Julie Crane?” A smile finally slid across the Pol’s rough face. “I might.”