“I can’t remember the last time we were this swamped,” said Dr. Kenneth Cornelio, head of the Adumbrae Criminalistics Laboratory of the AIU based in this station. He had a deep and monotonous voice, and looked exactly like you would expect a man with his job: a glasses-wearing, academe-looking, serious man who was going to give the boring exposition in a sci-fi movie. “I’d say during the McHunter scandal, but we didn’t have this laboratory back then. HQ had a barely-funded disgrace of a facility at the time. Do you know about the McHunters, Miss Hartwell?”
This is weirdly fascinating; he could ask a question without his voice rising at the end of the sentence. “Isn’t that the super-duper rich family infected by Adumbrae?” I said. “I think it was the head of their family?”
“Oh, so you’re familiar with them? You were probably in high school when the whole scandal exploded. It was actually because of them that the city ramped up its spending on anti-Adumbrae tech to the level we have now.”
I simply nodded because I didn’t have anything else to say. Even if I’ve lived in this city for only a couple of years, I’ve heard of the infamously wealthy McHunter clan because they were the owners of the huge abandoned development project where the derelict building we used as our hideout was located.
I tried to shift in my seat without drawing attention, hoping to get a better view of Dr. Cornelio’s screen. He was reviewing my government records on his computer before I get tested.
“And it seems, given recent events,” he said, “we need to expend more resources, leading to a quandary.” He held up his hands and moved them up and down as if they were weighing scales. “Spend astronomical amounts of the taxpayers’ money to have state-of-the-art of facilities to combat Adumbrae. What if no Adumbrae appears? The public will accuse the government of wasting money. Don’t do anything, and then an Adumbrae shows up? The public will crucify the government. Isn’t it a funny situation, Ms. Hartwell?”
“Erm…yes?” I wasn’t sure what to think of this guy.
He nodded at a high stack of documents Saffron delivered earlier. “Paperwork is accumulating, and the BID is demanding results. You should’ve called ahead of time so we could've scheduled you properly.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said.
“I know you lived in that condominium building, ground zero of the seeding outbreak, so you might’ve assumed we’ll immediately accommodate you. However, we have plenty of individuals connected to the case already lined up for testing.”
“Yes, sir. That’s what I incorrectly thought.” A no-nonsense rule stickler asshole. Fiercely bureaucratic. Very difficult to deal with. He couldn’t send me home, but he was giving me a bit of a hard time for not following the rules. "Sorry,” I said again for good measure.
“There are the residents who weren’t present during the outbreak, like yourself. The employees, not just of the property manager, but also of the various companies renting office spaces in that building. Occupants of surrounding buildings are being tested as well. The main office can’t handle them all and passed some of the load to us. We all have them scheduled, Ms. Hartwell.”
Fucking Johann assured me everything was in order for me to get tested. “I didn’t know, sir. I’m sor—"
“And now, I come to my office to find out you just showed up here, and Martin slotted you in. In managing our test slots, we keep in mind accommodating unforeseen emergency testing. For example, the suspects selling fake Adumbrae body parts that were just brought in. But not people just showing up when they could’ve called.”
Martin? Was that Johann's second name? A huge hassle to deal with these kinds of people, my usual tricks weren’t that effective. I stuttered, “I…I was afraid that…um…police might come and drag me away.”
“Drag you away? Ms. Hartwell, the police won’t arrest you for this. You’re a law student, are you not? You should know there are procedures we follow.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. Prick. I was tempted to say there were many cases the police didn’t follow procedure which we studied in law school, but that was a dumb move. I didn’t need to antagonize him. “I was thinking the cops will like come to school or something, and escort me off to get tested.”
“Well…I can’t say that doesn’t happen. However, given the police are currently stretched thin, I don’t think they will specifically come for you.”
“I’ve seen it on TV, so I thought it was going to happen to me too. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just that it…looks bad…um, and—”
“Say no more, Ms. Hartwell. I understand your position.”
“You do? Um, really?”
“I truly do. Take my situation, for example, working in a lab testing Adumbrae. My family’s social life is affected by this. It’s quite common for friends and acquaintances to avoid prolonged social interactions with me and my wife once they know our line of work. Quite understandable even if irrational. Or, perhaps…it is rational?”
“Er…I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” Okay, I didn’t need to know shit about your life. Not the direction I thought this conversation would go, but he seemed to become lenient with me.
“I see here that your last test recorded in the BID database was on January 20. Just last month? The one before this should be for your enrollment. You are a first-year law student at Eloyce University, correct?” I nodded. He said, “Then what is this January 20 test for? And a profiling at that.”
“Sir, that’s because I witnessed a fellow law student jump out the window down to the ocean; our building is on a cliff. I guess she was super stressed, or had some mental problems. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I do know they never found her body. Maybe it was somehow connected to Adumbrae and that’s why I was tested?”
“Perhaps, perhaps. But why did you undergo an Eloyce Field Profiling? And this doesn’t seem to be at the main office.”
Isn’t that the egg pod test? I got an answer for that, and the perfect way of delivering it. “I’m…I don’t know. There’s this Professor at Melchor who said I should try it. I think it should’ve been just the helmet test thingy—”
“Field Integrity test.”
“Um, that. But the lady professor insisted I should do that test where I sit in this huge white machine that looks like an egg pod thingy. I think her name was Professor Dessy…Desly?”
“Deslys,” he said with dejected flatness.
I snapped my fingers. “Yes, I think that’s it. I haven’t heard the surname Deslys before.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Dr. Cornelio sighed while shaking his head. “She is my wife.”
“Oh! I didn’t know that,” I exclaimed. He didn’t know that I already knew because Saffron told me. “That’s so cool. Both of you are scien—"
“I’ve advised her a number of times not to do this. It’s not in accordance with the guidelines. She merely wants to satisfy her scientific curiosity,” he complained, his monotone voice gradually showing breaks of frustration. “I don’t know if I agree with her decision to submit the test to the database as per the rules. A wiser choice would’ve been to delete any trace of her favorite pastime. But I would never suggest that.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“She shouldn’t have done it?” That bitch! I knew it.
“No, there was no reason to. And the unit you call ‘egg pod thingy’ at Melchor is an experimental model used for research and not a regulation approved instrument. The only ‘egg pod thingy’ for official use in this city is at LEPD headquarters.”
“Is it bad? Are there side effects, or…?”
“There shouldn’t be any, Ms. Hartwell. No cause for worry. Although, I suppose I should apologize for my wife inconveniencing you. And since everything seems to be in order, you can proceed to testing. I’ll just call for someone.” He waved his hand to the people outside the glass wall of his office.
Johann was walking along the corridor with Deen; she had a bunch of other presumably technicians in tow. His eyes widened when he saw his boss. His co-workers fled like rats back to their holes, surprised by the presence of their boss, but not as surprised as Johann.
Dr. Cornelio gestured for him to come in, and he had no choice but to comply.
“Sir, I didn’t know you came in,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware I should report to you.”
He grinned apologetically, scratching his head. “It’s just that your wife has been calling the office and—"
Dr. Cornelio stared him down to shut him up. “Martin, I expected better from you. I found out you scheduled Ms. Hartwell here—”
“Deen!” I said with fake excitement. “This is Dr. Cornelio. Guess what? He’s the husband of Professor Deslys. Remember her? The pretty professor at Melchor?”
“Oh my god, really?” Deen said without missing a beat. “I’ll never forget Professor Deslys, beauty and brains, all in one.” There was a glint of understanding in her eye. “I didn’t know she’s married. So cute that both of you are scientists…er…sir.” She did a little curtsy, drawing her hands to her side as if she was wearing a skirt. “Good afternoon, sir. My name is Amber Deen. I’m Erind’s friend and classmate. I accompanied her here because she’s a scaredy cat.”
“Hey, I’m not.”
“Sorry for being so informal, sir. I can’t help but gush. I didn’t expect to meet a couple scientist.”
“Right?” I said. “That’s what I said earlier.” The two of us were speaking rapidly and loudly, not giving Dr. Cornelio the opportunity to butt in.
“I actually saw a picture of Professor Deslys when Johann was touring me in the office.”
“Did she work here before, sir?” I asked, eagerly leaning forward, making it perfectly clear he had no other choice but to shoo us away. “You met each other at work?”
“Ye-yes,” he said, visibly uncomfortable with the two of us prying.
“That could be a great TV show! I’ll watch it. Can you tell us more—"
“Here are your papers, Ms. Hartwell. Martin will accompany you to the testing. Move along now, I have a lot on my plate to deal with.”
“Right on it, sir,” Johann replied. He gave me a wink, grateful for our efforts in distracting his boss. “Ms. Hartwell can be done before the next group scheduled for testing arrives.”
----------------------------------------
“106 lbs, Ms. Erind,” said Philip, tapping a tablet with his stylus.
“You know you shouldn’t ask for a woman’s weight,” I said. “That should apply to tests too.” He laughed at my lame attempt at a joke. Sitting beside him was Johann, who gave me an assuring thumbs up. Just the usual social interactions; it was like filling up a quota per setting. Normally, I’d get tired after a while, but I’ve grown to appreciate this given all the utter nonsense happening in my life. Officer H-something was right, we take normalcy for granted.
I went through a fairly basic physical assessment. Weight, height, heartrate, BMI, the usual. I passed through bioscanners peeking my muscle mass, bone density and structure, and other stuff Philip was blabbering about earlier. He even jested that, for all they knew, maybe I was a monster hiding in human skin.
And they’d be right.
After that, they led me inside a room with even more machines.
Whoa! As soon as I entered, I felt the atmosphere became heavier, it was slightly harder to breathe like hiking up a very tall mountain and experiencing thin air for the first time. Static made the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.
Johann looked me in the eye for a couple of seconds then gazed upwards. I followed suit. Hanging in the center of the high stainless-steel ceiling a curious contraption made of concentric silver plates. It gave off a very faint high-pitched whirring noise, almost a whistle.
The Umbrella.
I couldn’t see the whatever-field it was, but it was certainly turned on. Johann better have made sure his plan worked.
“I’m not sure if this is normal,” I said, “but I’ve got this weird sensation.” I held up my arms, showing them my goosebumps.
“That’s normal, Ms. Erind.” Philip ushered me to the large rectangular machines that checked regeneration. “This way, please.”
I stood rooted on the spot, appearing to look nervous, my eyes flickering at the machines then at him. Then I glared at Johann. He was behind a control panel of sorts. Philip stepped back, unsure of what he had done wrong.
“Philip won’t bite,” Johann said, grinning at his co-worker. “He’s a nice guy actually. We can check his HR records after this, if you want.”
“Thanks for the endorsement,” he replied sarcastically.
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that!” I said to Philip. “Honest. I was…I was just scared of this machine.” And with that, Philip will—either consciously or unconsciously, it didn’t matter which—keep his distance from me. I moved to the machine in an angle that ensure he’d be on my left side following me. “I put my hands here?”
“Palms down, please,” he said. “And look into the retina scanner.”
As the machine did its thing, Johann chatted with his co-worker, teasingly pairing him with me, so he wouldn’t look too closely at my hands. He wouldn’t think about checking my right palm, anyway; that was such a random thing to do. Which was why Johann decided, instead of standing beside me, he should be commanding the control terminal in case the machine reacted to the crystals on my palm.
After the prickling on my palms stopped, I quickly turned to Johann to check if there was something wrong. He gave me a subtle shake of his head.
Nice. I was so relieved that it lowered my disgust for the helmet test that came up next.
I was even humming to myself while waiting for the helmet thingy to scan my brain and whatnot. It did help it was Johann administering the test; I would’ve been more uncomfortable if it was someone else. He already knew there was something wrong with me—being an Adumbrae—so he’d chuck up any irregularity to that reason, and not to the other…not so normal part of me.
I reminded myself I didn’t have any cause for concern because the Suppressor would deal with it. Just a normal girl, sitting on a chair, getting tested. Normal. Normal…normal…
Do I want to be normal again?
I mean…yes? I should, right?
Damn it. Was this SpookyErind getting to me?
I was already thinking like an Adumbrae. The natural thing would be to try and find a way to be human again, or at least hold back the Adumbrae incursion in my mind and body. Technically, I should be happy now that my powers were suppressed, that there was a way to be ‘cured’ or something. Perhaps in the future the BID could find a successful way of turning an Adumbrae back to human permanently.
But I wasn’t happy.
So…
“We’re done, Miss Erind,” Philip said, interrupting my thoughts. “You can wait at the lobby while we process your results and sign off the certificates. The results will be in the BID database, but it is important you have papers too.”
“Thank you so much.” I was about to go out the door when Dr. Cornelio came in. “Hello, sir,” I said, stepping out of his way. He didn’t even look at me. I shrugged and walked out the door.
“Tritium power cells are expensive,” he firmly said to Johann and Philip, “and while thriftiness is debatably a minor virtue, I presume the two of you are aware why you shouldn’t let them run low if possible.”
Excuse me? I stopped walking and decided to eavesdrop a bit, holding the door a few inches open.
“Sorry, I wasn’t able to check—"
“I’ll change it right away, sir,” Johann cut in.
“No need. I already had Kempis change it before Ms. Hartwell entered this room. I wanted to tell you before I forget it. Don’t let it happen again.”
I didn’t show any reaction, slowly closing the door and walking out of the lab to the lobby.
What the fuck? The Umbrella was working normally the entire time?