the midst of turmoil I feel her signal, but it seems distorted, multiplied in some way, a blend of fear and longing forming an aching minor note, like a lament in the bandwidth.
“Your hand.” He swivels his wrist, a gesture to make the procedure insignificant rather than a transaction in blood that binds me to the Affinity Project for all time.
I hope he won’t notice the way my fingers tremble as I hold out my hand, or the clammy sheen of my skin. He pricks my forefinger. The capsule fills with my blood and he extracts the needle. I suck the living red bead on my fingertip while he caps the needle, plugs it into a small port in the side of his phone and lays it on the table. I cannot take my eyes from the screen, waiting for an alarm to ring out. I’m breathing too fast, too shallow.
“Shortly, Mr Nelson will supply you with a tracker that will allow us to study the early development of your signal over the coming weeks. This is best pre-Orientation while mass exposure to other active signals is low. It allows for the most uncorrupted analysis. Such data is invaluable to my research. However, it is a risk for you and you may refuse, in which case this will become an Extraction and we will take you in for Orientation.”
“A risk?”
The woman, Felicity, intercepts my question with a brief glance at Tesla that borders on disapproval. “Orientation would provide you with immediate training,” she says. “Resources, education and counselling to support your adjustment to your new life, improving your chances of survival with your next Spark. Delaying Orientation, there is a dire risk you may trigger with a new Spark without the advantages of being fully initiated. You have survived your first encounter but it is not a given for your next one.”
I immediately regret asking the question. Will it sound suspicious if I don’t argue for Orientation, like I have an agenda?
“Thank you, Felicity,” Tesla says, a pinch at the corners of his mouth. “That is why we keep Early Detection Studies to a two week period to limit the risk involved. The data provides us with up-to-date insight into the acceleration of the synthetic gene. Perhaps your aunt has explained to you that each generation produces new anomalies. In order to find successful Deactivation pathways we must understand the new strands of the synthesis.”
I nod thoughtfully, like (a) I have a clue what he’s talking about, and (b) I’m giving my choice consideration. “Does it work? Deactivation? Are there really people like us who’ve been cured?”
Tesla exhales and his frown notches in while Felicity looks pleased that I’ve asked. With an abrupt upwards movement, he rises to his feet. At first I think he’s going to stalk out and summon Benjamin, aggravated by impertinent questions. Instead, he pushes his chair in and leans on the back of it, his dark eyes boring into mine. “There is no cure. There is remission. It is a difficult process but eligible subjects who
commit
to the course of treatment may reach remission.”
It takes all my willpower not to look at Jamie.
Tesla turns away from me and paces slowly to the back door, staring out the window into the Border Forest, hands clasped behind his back. “Each new Asset is tested and matched against the database. If two Shields produce an active counter-signal, they may act as Coolers for one another, assisting the process of Deactivation.” His head swivels, presenting the profile of his face only. “Mr Gallagher could explain it to you.”
Clearly he’s not happy with Jamie, but all I can think is
Helena
.
Helena
.
I hate Helena
.
“There could be someone with a signal that counters yours,” he says.
“Counsellor Tesla,” Felicity says. “You ought not to give the girl false hope. The cases are extremely rare.”
He turns his face towards the forest, his broad back straight as a steel rod. “That is why this research is vital. We hope for a breakthrough that will make the
“Your hand.” He swivels his wrist, a gesture to make the procedure insignificant rather than a transaction in blood that binds me to the Affinity Project for all time.
I hope he won’t notice the way my fingers tremble as I hold out my hand, or the clammy sheen of my skin. He pricks my forefinger. The capsule fills with my blood and he extracts the needle. I suck the living red bead on my fingertip while he caps the needle, plugs it into a small port in the side of his phone and lays it on the table. I cannot take my eyes from the screen, waiting for an alarm to ring out. I’m breathing too fast, too shallow.
“Shortly, Mr Nelson will supply you with a tracker that will allow us to study the early development of your signal over the coming weeks. This is best pre-Orientation while mass exposure to other active signals is low. It allows for the most uncorrupted analysis. Such data is invaluable to my research. However, it is a risk for you and you may refuse, in which case this will become an Extraction and we will take you in for Orientation.”
“A risk?”
The woman, Felicity, intercepts my question with a brief glance at Tesla that borders on disapproval. “Orientation would provide you with immediate training,” she says. “Resources, education and counselling to support your adjustment to your new life, improving your chances of survival with your next Spark. Delaying Orientation, there is a dire risk you may trigger with a new Spark without the advantages of being fully initiated. You have survived your first encounter but it is not a given for your next one.”
I immediately regret asking the question. Will it sound suspicious if I don’t argue for Orientation, like I have an agenda?
“Thank you, Felicity,” Tesla says, a pinch at the corners of his mouth. “That is why we keep Early Detection Studies to a two week period to limit the risk involved. The data provides us with up-to-date insight into the acceleration of the synthetic gene. Perhaps your aunt has explained to you that each generation produces new anomalies. In order to find successful Deactivation pathways we must understand the new strands of the synthesis.”
I nod thoughtfully, like (a) I have a clue what he’s talking about, and (b) I’m giving my choice consideration. “Does it work? Deactivation? Are there really people like us who’ve been cured?”
Tesla exhales and his frown notches in while Felicity looks pleased that I’ve asked. With an abrupt upwards movement, he rises to his feet. At first I think he’s going to stalk out and summon Benjamin, aggravated by impertinent questions. Instead, he pushes his chair in and leans on the back of it, his dark eyes boring into mine. “There is no cure. There is remission. It is a difficult process but eligible subjects who
commit
to the course of treatment may reach remission.”
It takes all my willpower not to look at Jamie.
Tesla turns away from me and paces slowly to the back door, staring out the window into the Border Forest, hands clasped behind his back. “Each new Asset is tested and matched against the database. If two Shields produce an active counter-signal, they may act as Coolers for one another, assisting the process of Deactivation.” His head swivels, presenting the profile of his face only. “Mr Gallagher could explain it to you.”
Clearly he’s not happy with Jamie, but all I can think is
Helena
.
Helena
.
I hate Helena
.
“There could be someone with a signal that counters yours,” he says.
“Counsellor Tesla,” Felicity says. “You ought not to give the girl false hope. The cases are extremely rare.”
He turns his face towards the forest, his broad back straight as a steel rod. “That is why this research is vital. We hope for a breakthrough that will make the
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