Accidental Creatures (6 page)

“We felt they were necessary,” he said faintly, “to create the proper environment for the project.”

“A vat house is the proper environment for the project!” Graham shouted, pounding his fist on the table. It made Martin jump. “That's the whole point, isn't it?”

Martin blew out his breath. “I wanted to examine responses to a wide range of stimuli.”

“Why? No, never mind. I know, because you were curious. I suppose that's what we pay you for, but this project is overdue and over budget already, and you go out and spend over fifteen-thousand dollars on toys!”

Martin spread his hands, “I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking of it like that.” He wasn’t thinking of it at all, Nathan guessed. His eyes kept on darting to the invoices, reading over them as if he were trying to discover something.

“Don't get me wrong doctor, I admire you, I really do. But I'm a business man, and it's my job to tow the bottom line, and to see to it that you do the same. You may not be aware of it, but Genesys is in business to make money, not play with tinker toys.”

Martin nodded, “Actually, I am aware of that.”

“Good,” Graham erased the invoices, watching Martin watch them disappear. Despite his obvious genius, Martin had never played the prima donna, and he didn’t now. He probably could have gotten away with it, even around Graham. If Martin pulled rank, went over his head, there would be little he could do about it. Anna would never consent to losing a mind like Martin’s. It made Graham think less of him, that he would entirely neglect capitalizing on his early career. After the brains, he could have formed his own company and made even more money than GeneSys paid him, but no. All he wanted was another problem to think about.

Graham switched to personnel files. “You granted four transfer requests in February, but never requested replacements. That leaves you with just two assistants, doesn’t it? Greenfield and um,”

“Slatermeyer,” said Martin. “I found it more efficient, easier actually, to conduct research with a smaller staff.”

“I see. Well that may help to offset some of these charges. Very forward thinking of you, I might add, to voluntarily downsize your staff. Most researchers wouldn’t do that.” He folded his hands on the table and leaned over them. “So when can we expect this project to go online?” he asked gently.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. These are just prototypes we’re working with now. They’re not really suitable for a real life situation.”

Graham laughed and shook his head, “Always the perfectionist, eh, Martin? I noticed you’ve been keeping your project data in private storage, and that’s fine, but why don’t you let me judge how unsuitable these prototypes of yours are.

“I appreciate you taking the time to make out this report,” he gestured towards the stack of mylar. “I know we keep you busy. I’ll tell you what. I’ll read this, and then pop down in a day or so to see what you’ve accomplished. You don’t mind, do you?”

Martin sat very still, staring at Graham as if he were a poisonous snake ready to strike, and his only hope for survival was remain immobile, attract no attention, and hope to be ignored. But he would not be ignored, not by Graham, not now. The expenditures, the staff changes, the private data, it added up to something, something that would not, he felt sure, be in the good doctor’s report.

“Well, I don’t know that that’s necessary, really,” said Martin, his hands clenching in his lap. “The report I’ve prepared should fully brief you, and of course if you have any questions-”

“Questions, well. You know, despite being a bean counter,” he smiled at Martin’s discomfort over the term, “I have always felt that seeing is believing. I know your lab time is precious, but it won’t take long, just a quick little tour. You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Great, then I’ll see you again soon.” Nathan stood and walked around the desk to shake hands with Martin. His hand was ice cold. “Thanks for stopping by.”

She woke from a muddle of thoughts and memories; the recollection of movement and darkness, of being carried into a bright kitchen with a yellow formica table, a babble of voices, someone saying, “she's in shock,” and a thin face framed by long black hair, bending over her with bright dark eyes, asking, over and over again, “What's your name?”

Helix opened her eyes and gazed at a pink, water stained ceiling. She was in a bed, a twin bed with a lumpy mattress, covered neck to toe with a multi-colored afghan crocheted out of some strange, nubby yarn. She turned her head. The walls were pink too; poorly fed plaint flaking away like dried skin. On a small table by the bed stood an old ceramic lamp, its shade yellow and fraying. She heard voices, muffled, from a nearby room. Her head hurt, and she shut her eyes.

She woke again to see light streaming in from the window, filtered weakly by sheer, age-faded curtains. There was a soft knock at the door, and it opened.

A face peeked through the door; sharp little nose, sharp chin, like a bright, friendly rodent. Tawny brown hair fell untidily across her forehead. Seeing Helix awake she smiled and came in. She was small but solid, dressed in a black tank top faded to grey, and a purple and yellow patterned skirt. She sat in a chair next to the bed and leaned forward. “You're awake,” she said.

“Yes.”

Her smile widened, “That's good. We were worried.”

“You're the one who found me.”

“Yeah, my name's Chango.” she put out her hand.

Helix withdrew her upper right hand from beneath the afghan and shook with her. “I'm Helix,” she said.

"Oh, you know your name. Thank goddess. Last night we couldn't get you to tell us. Mavi says your wound isn't serious. Somehow, the knife missed your kidney. She dressed and bandaged it, and the bleeding seemed to stop, but what she was really worried about was the concussion. See, you went into shock, in the car, and you were more or less unconscious when we brought you in. We couldn’t wake you up. You're not supposed to go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“A concussion?”

“Yeah, from when those guys were kicking you. Mavi says you have a cracked rib, too, but there isn't much she can do about that except get you to keep still.”

“Mavi?”

“The friend I told you about. She’s a healer.”

“You, you saw those guys?”

“Yeah, and I'm sorry I didn't get involved, but I'm a shitty fighter, we'd probably both be dead.”

“You saw me, fighting? And this friend, she saw... I-” In a sudden burst of shame Helix realized the obvious. Both of these women had seen her for what she was. Her face burned, tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted desperately to be out of the sight of this sharp eyed person, this person who had already seen too much. She tried to roll over, but the motion sent a lance of pain through her chest and she gasped, pulled at the afghan, and drew it over her head. The strange, nubby yarn was smooth against her skin and oddly comforting.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing that for? Was it something I said?”

“No,” Helix said from her side of the afghan.

“Then what are you hiding for? Are you afraid?”

“Yes.”

“Because Mavi and me saw you without that raincoat you were so particular about?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“C'mon, nobody's going to hurt you. Look at me.”

Helix felt little hands, tugging firmly at the edge of the afghan. She swallowed, and allowed it to be drawn back from her face again. She looked up to see Chango peering closely at her with those strange eyes of hers, and suddenly she realized why they were strange. They were two different colors. One blue, the other green.

Chango nodded, acknowledging her realization. “That’s right. I’m one too.” She leaned back and released the afghan, but Helix didn’t draw it back. “I know this,” she waved at her eyes, “doesn’t seem like a very big deal to you. But it’s enough to give me a label for the rest of my life. Believe me, I’ve been through lots of pairs of sunglasses.”

Helix lay there, staring. She didn’t know what to do, she just remained motionless. Finally she said, “I’ve never met anyone else who was...”

“Oh,” Chango said quietly, steadily holding her gaze, “That must be weird - to be the only one. I’m lucky I guess. I grew up here, where there’s still a few of us to this day. People still treat us differently, but we don’t come as a big surprise to anyone.”

“Until yesterday, I hadn’t been seen by anybody but my father for ten years,” said Helix. She didn’t know why she said it, it just came out.

Chango took her turn at staring, her mouth hanging open. Silently she mouthed the words, “ten years?”

Then out loud she said, “Goddamn, that’s terrible. Shit, no wonder you freaked out.” She paced the floor anxiously, glancing quickly back and forth between Helix and the floor.

“Your father... He hid you.”

“No, not really. He let me hide. I went out from time to time, but always with the raincoat.” She tilted her head in some vague indication of the direction in which it might be. “Actually it’s his.”

“It’s his raincoat,” Chango repeated, and then shook her head. “Wow, so you just hid out for ten years. Why?”

“Before I went to live with Hector, I was in an orphanage. I was the only sport there, too. It wasn’t exactly a good place to be saddled with uniqueness.”

Chango had drifted back to the chair and sat down. “Yeah,” she nodded her head, “kids suck.”

“It was really bad. I remember one year where there wasn’t a single day that I didn’t wish I were somebody else. That was the last year. Then Hector came along and rescued me, and I guess I just didn’t want anything like that to happen to me again.” She shook her head, “I can’t stand that look. You know that look?”

“Yeah, I know that look. So what happened? How did you wind up where I found you?”

Helix shrugged. “I just left. I felt... I don’t know, like there was something out here that was meant for me, and I’d never have it unless I left.

“Wow, that’s amazing. What an incredible story.” Chango fished a pack of reefer cigarettes out of her t-shirt pocket and offered them to Helix.

“No thanks.”

Chango took out a cigarette, lit it and smoked in silence for a few minutes. The smoke made her squint, and Helix thought she could see her the way she would be years from now, an old woman, smoking and thinking. “So how long ago was this?” she asked at length.

“Yesterday. I just left the GeneSys building, that’s where I lived, and started walking around. I ended up in Greektown, I was in this casino. There were people everywhere, and I was starting to panic. Then someone bumped into me. I didn’t even see them, but I felt them touch my arm, my lower arm. I just took off, and then I wound up down this alley, and that was when those guys attacked me.”

“Welcome to the outside world,” Chango laughed harshly. “But then I found you. Out of all the people around there who could have found you, it was another sport. Maybe somebody watches out for us after all.”

“Maybe. At any rate, I can thank you for getting involved. I think I would have died out there if you hadn’t done something.”

“Oh probably not died.”

“Maybe not then. Soon enough, I’ll bet.”

Chango shrugged and looked at her wordlessly.

“Shit, what am I going to do?” Helix suddenly raised her upper hands to the sides of her head. She’d tried going out, and it had nearly killed her. She didn’t have a job, nor any prospects of one. Her only friend was a total stranger. What had she been thinking, that she could do this?

But every time she thought about going back, that hand reached up from her gut and pushed her back out again.

“You’re going to stay put for a couple of days and let your ribs heal and your head return to its normal size and shape,” said a voice from the doorway. A tall figure in a long black dress stood there, her thin face nearly hidden by the unruly strands of her black hair. She walked across the room with understated grace, and stood at the foot of the bed. She wore a silver amulet, a five pointed star inside a circle. She had a long and rather prominent nose which shouldered the main burden of pushing aside her hair. She made an imposing figure there, a long black line parted by a pale slice of face. Then her hand swept up and pushed back her hair, to reveal a pair of eyes that were warm and deep, and strong lips spread in a smile. “Glad to see you’re up, how are you feeling?”

“Better.” In spite of herself, Helix slid farther down beneath the covers of the bed.

“This is Mavi,” said Chango, “She took care of you last night.”

“Thank you,” Helix nodded at her awkwardly.

“No problem,” Mavi hiked up one bare foot and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Her name is Helix,” said Chango.

“Let me take a look at your head, Helix.” Mavi moved around the side of the bed and bent over her. Her pendant swung above Helix’s eyes as her long, cool fingers probed her skull.

“Ow,” said Helix, reflexively jerking her head as Mavi’s fingers found the lump at the side of her head. The pendant banged her in the forehead.

“Sorry,” murmured Mavi as she gently probed the lump. “The swelling is down some, but it’ll be sore for a while.

“She’s been speaking coherently?” she asked Chango over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah. Complex sentences and everything, Mavi.”

“Good,” Mavi straightened up, nodding her head. “That was the worst of your injuries, actually,” she said to Helix, “The ribs will be alright if you just lie still for several days. But I do need to look at your knife wound.” She looked at Chango who was still sitting in the chair, picking at a thread on her skirt. Chango looked up suddenly. “Oh, you want me to leave.” She glanced over to Helix, “You want me to leave?”

Helix looked from Chango to Mavi and back again. If she had her druthers, she’d be the one to leave, but her earlier attempt at rolling over ruled that out. “I guess so,” she said reluctantly.

“I couldn’t really bandage your ribs,” said Mavi after Chango left, “so we just have to do this carefully. Gently she helped Helix roll over.

Despite the pain of moving, Helix was glad to have her face down against the mattress. She didn’t have to face Mavi as she pulled back the bed covers to examine the wound near the small of her back. “I have to change the dressing” said Mavi, moving across the room. Helix heard a drawer open and close and then she felt the cold blade of a scissors against her skin, felt the bandages lifted, and something cool and soothing applied to her wound. “I have you closed up with cellular tape. It seems to be healing clean.”