Even though the Orbit II tower had a gigantic parking lot that occupied half the block, surrounded by a gray wall almost thirty feet high, Adam and Malin had had to leave the blue compact parked outside, on the other side of the avenue. The insistence of Adam had been of no use, who had appeared at the front desk claiming to have a special invitation from the board.
The parking meter robot detected them leaving the building and went to wait for them by the car. Adam entered the password into the robot terminal for the small sum to be debited and got behind the wheel.
“That video… Shit!” was his first comment. He started the 08.09 and headed down the avenue. “Hey, do you think—?”
“No,” she said. “There was nothing we could do to come out of this with victory laurels on our heads. I told you, the Satellites finding us, finding me, it was a fact from the moment I stepped into this country for the first time.”
“I was gonna ask you if you think these people are aware of the Binary project,” Adam said.
Malin raised her eyebrows.
“Oh! That I don’t know.”
“Shit!” Adam grunted. “So, what the hell was that to-know-what’s-in-his-genes all about? You were there, you heard that bull in a tox reciting nomenclatures and radiation levels. The son of a bitch is a living encyclopedia! He must know I have the mark of a scientific experiment burned on my ass like a cow.”
“The numbers he mentioned might have been the lottery results, and we’d never know, dear. We’re not in a position to challenge him either, so… For the time being, I’ll keep my thoughts.”
Adam snarled once again. His curiosity to know how well Hemdell knew about the Binary project only grew.
If the Satellites were aware of what happened in Liberty Park, perhaps they knew of the files Juzo had kept in his backpack that had been destroyed while escaping from Broga. Was it possible that any of those folders had been left intact and some agent had picked it up? It was improbable, but how many things were improbable until they were proven true?
“The data about the Binary project were in the files Juzo had,” Malin said, exposing her thoughts aloud. “And the original files are in the hands of the Imperialists, who maintain contact with the Satellites.”
“Sure, but your friend—Rigel, was his name, right?” The name had popped into Adam’s mind as if Juzo had whispered it to him. “I know Rigel got rid of the pages that mentioned our names. No one should know that…Well, that Juzo and I are…clones.”
Malin felt thorns on her head. She had never revealed to Adam what Juzo had told her; she had not even mentioned the word clone in front of him. Had Juzo done it? She doubted that it would have been the case. How much did Adam know about all this? If he knew he was a clone, did he know the identity of Broga?
“What’s wrong?” Adam was waiting for an answer.
Malin shook her head, and trying to hide her surprise at his comment, she picked up the topic.
“It’s true. Rigel kept your names out of it,” she said and cleared her throat. “But if one day you discover the blueprints to build an android that shoots white fire, and then you find an android that shoots white fire, you don’t have to be a mathematical genius to add one plus one.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Adam nodded.
“It’s horrible to live in uncertainty.”
Malin let out a rueful chuckle. After the ‘Juzo and I are…clones’ comment, what she had just heard about uncertainty had a double meaning to her.
“Only when you have a few,” she said, almost speaking to herself. “Uncertainty is something that, if you have it in quantity, loses its power to keep you awake, y’know? It becomes a kind of pillow that you can mold according to your head. You think about it today, not tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow. The alternative is to fall into paranoia or madness.”
Adam smiled. “Soldier, detective, nurse, and now a philosopher. And your analogies still suck.”
Malin returned the smile.
But the smile on Adam disappeared. “What worries me is this radiation issue,” he said and tightened his hands on the wheel.
“If it makes you feel safer,” Malin said, “I haven’t heard of Kappa radiation poisoning.”
“Well,” Adam nodded, “don’t take this the wrong way, but until today you thought that Kappa radiation was detectable only in certain geographical areas. Now you find out that it is also irradiated by a stone... And by the fool who speaks to you right here. Sort of like the Eddanian charm you told me about; you remember? But from Kappa radiation instead of Tao.”
“Yeah… Well…” Malin didn’t know what to say. “It makes sense now that I think about it, though. The electromagnetic spectrum of Kappa Points is white, y’know, like your Photias.”
“—And my silly last name,” he whispered. “Hey, and how did you see a Kappa Point? I thought their thing was that no one could see them.”
“With a quantum spectrometer,” she replied, “kind of like cool binoculars. I did some reconnaissance in those sectors when I was in the Army.”
“Interesting,” Adam nodded, and then there was a long pause. “Hey, the good thing is you won’t get deported, right?” he said afterward. “—Not for now. You happy?”
“Yes,” Malin said.
“I expected a more euphoric response.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed with her fist raised in triumph, although with the same enthusiasm as before.
“Are you thinking about what they will do with me tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Same here.” He held up his hand. “They’ll probably ask me how I got these powers.”
“I’d lie if I were you,” she said.
“That’s the plan.”
“Adam—don’t rack your brain thinking about what will happen tomorrow. Haven’t you learned that sometimes there’s no other thing to do but to wait?”
“Uh-huh. With all this, I’m learning it pretty fast.”
Malin leaned back in the seat. “I’m intrigued by what they’ll do after analyzing that rock,” she said; her fingers playing with her hair. “I know that, as part of their weapons, the Satellite Agency has a neurotoxin that suppresses the serum the Grenadiers carry in our blood, preventing us from emitting any Powered Fluctuating Discharge; something similar to what the Imperialists use to de-Grenadierize a soldier. Perhaps the Satellites seek to study that rock to duplicate the suppressing effect that Kappa radiation has on any P.F.D. Can you imagine? That way, they wouldn’t need to insert a neurotoxin into anyone’s body or remove the implants. It would be enough to expose the person to a radiation emitter to take away their powers. You could incapacitate an entire Grenadier squad without lifting a finger.”
Adam looked at her. “Do you think Hemdell’s goal is to confront the Imperialists with those emitters? I mean, organize an invasion against your country or something like that.”
Malin cocked her head. “I hadn’t thought of anything that extreme; rather, in something like selling the secrets of Kappa radiation to the Imperialists. The Imperial Council would sell their own mothers for such valuable information. By putting transmitters in strategic locations, they would get rid of defectors who still keep their powers, like me, without the need to confront them.”
“Right, that makes more sense,” Adam agreed. “Hey, if I’m apparently a human antenna emitting Kappa radiation, shouldn’t you be bleeding from your ears or something?”
“I guess that depends on how fired up you are. You don’t remember if Simon and I bled that night in your loft?”
“I don’t… I don’t remember it well. The truth is, when I’m, y’know, lightened up, I don’t remember much of anything. It’s like I’m not myself—Oh, wait! With my radiation, maybe I could alter those fluctuating discharges of yours somehow, don’t you think?”
Malin raised her eyebrows; she hadn’t considered it. “It’s true. So far you haven’t been directly attacked with a Photia,” she said. “I guess we could try. It’ll be fun to throw one at you and see what happens.”
“I don’t like the enthusiasm in your voice.”
Malin winked at him; “Easy there. I promise to be more compassionate to you than Kitten was.”