Read Online There's Only One Quantum by William Bryan Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: William Bryan Smith
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“A cell-bot,” Ms. Hunter said.
She agreed to meet him in a cafe named Indigo where the ferns inside were real, but the coffee was not. They were seated at a table for two by the window. She kept her raincoat on.
“A cell-bot?”
“A replicant,” she said. “Made in a genetics lab using real cells, tissues, DNA. Clones, essentially.”
Coe said, “Like the kind they used to terraform Mars?”
“Obviously, this one had a robotic head. It’s a spy model. Quantum makes them.”
“Quantum makes them?”
“Intellitech Laboratories,” she said. “On fifteen. They’re a subsidiary.”
“Quantum sent it?”
“Quantum makes them,” she said. “Doesn’t necessarily mean it came from Quantum. Lots of companies use them.” She sipped her coffee. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t come from Quantum, either.”
“Christ.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. It had all begun to make his head ache. “Auditors are spies,” he said, having a satori.
She laughed. “Auditors are lots of things. You didn’t know that?”
“I don’t know what I thought. Yes. No. I don’t...maybe.” All of those years in research, the dossiers, the background checks, the traces—he told himself it was all marketing.
“The corporate world is a cutthroat place, Mr. Coe. Without good business intelligence, how can a company like Quantum, keep its competitive edge?”
“There’s only one: Quantum,” he said, mindlessly reciting the company slogan. It appeared on print ads, billboards, corporate swag like the T-shirts and coffee mugs they freely distributed to employees—it was said with confidence by the big-breasted actress with the pouty lips that had been the company spokeswoman for nearly a decade.
Ms. Hunter smiled. “There’s only one...and we’re fortunate enough to work for it. Do you ever remind yourself just how lucky you are, Mr. Coe? You work for Quantum. The Quantum Corporation. You’re an auditor for the number one company in the world...hell, the solar system.”
“I’m lucky,” Coe said.
“Look at them,” she said, casting a glance toward the window. An endless flow of people passed by the glass, some paused long enough just to look in. “We could easily be on that side. Part of the masses, moving...always moving. Do you ever wonder where they all go?”
“Home,” he said. “Work. School. Restaurants. Cafes like this one.”
“No,” she said, sipping her coffee. Her gaze stayed fixed on the people. “I don’t think they have homes. Their job is to keep moving.”
Coe watched her as she spoke. She was expressionless, unblinking. She was beautiful but cold. He couldn’t get a read on her. “Who do you think sent the cell-bot?”
“What?” she said, dreamily. She turned slowly away from the window and looked at him. Her eyes were blank as if she did not even
“A cell-bot,” Ms. Hunter said.
She agreed to meet him in a cafe named Indigo where the ferns inside were real, but the coffee was not. They were seated at a table for two by the window. She kept her raincoat on.
“A cell-bot?”
“A replicant,” she said. “Made in a genetics lab using real cells, tissues, DNA. Clones, essentially.”
Coe said, “Like the kind they used to terraform Mars?”
“Obviously, this one had a robotic head. It’s a spy model. Quantum makes them.”
“Quantum makes them?”
“Intellitech Laboratories,” she said. “On fifteen. They’re a subsidiary.”
“Quantum sent it?”
“Quantum makes them,” she said. “Doesn’t necessarily mean it came from Quantum. Lots of companies use them.” She sipped her coffee. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t come from Quantum, either.”
“Christ.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. It had all begun to make his head ache. “Auditors are spies,” he said, having a satori.
She laughed. “Auditors are lots of things. You didn’t know that?”
“I don’t know what I thought. Yes. No. I don’t...maybe.” All of those years in research, the dossiers, the background checks, the traces—he told himself it was all marketing.
“The corporate world is a cutthroat place, Mr. Coe. Without good business intelligence, how can a company like Quantum, keep its competitive edge?”
“There’s only one: Quantum,” he said, mindlessly reciting the company slogan. It appeared on print ads, billboards, corporate swag like the T-shirts and coffee mugs they freely distributed to employees—it was said with confidence by the big-breasted actress with the pouty lips that had been the company spokeswoman for nearly a decade.
Ms. Hunter smiled. “There’s only one...and we’re fortunate enough to work for it. Do you ever remind yourself just how lucky you are, Mr. Coe? You work for Quantum. The Quantum Corporation. You’re an auditor for the number one company in the world...hell, the solar system.”
“I’m lucky,” Coe said.
“Look at them,” she said, casting a glance toward the window. An endless flow of people passed by the glass, some paused long enough just to look in. “We could easily be on that side. Part of the masses, moving...always moving. Do you ever wonder where they all go?”
“Home,” he said. “Work. School. Restaurants. Cafes like this one.”
“No,” she said, sipping her coffee. Her gaze stayed fixed on the people. “I don’t think they have homes. Their job is to keep moving.”
Coe watched her as she spoke. She was expressionless, unblinking. She was beautiful but cold. He couldn’t get a read on her. “Who do you think sent the cell-bot?”
“What?” she said, dreamily. She turned slowly away from the window and looked at him. Her eyes were blank as if she did not even
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