The protective protocol that kicks in and makes his eyes go black is single-handedly the most complicated code I’ve ever seen. On one level, it’s simple. His panel has been fed a photograph of me, probably from my father. It recognizes me by reading the signals from Cole’s retina and constantly scans me and my surroundings. Whenever I’m in danger of being injured or killed, the AI shows Cole the threats in red through his VR interface, then pumps him full of adrenaline. The end result is that he’s so terrified and disorientated that he wants to attack anything that might hurt me.
But there’s a whole other level I don’t understand. Pages of code I can’t figure out, linking to other files that look like gibberish to me. It’s my father’s code, I can tell by the notation, but it’s not like anything else he’s ever written.
It’s not like anything anyone has ever written.
The thing is, gentech doesn’t change your DNA. It doesn’t splice – cutting genes out and replacing them with new ones – even though most people think that’s what it does. Before gentech was invented, people thought splicing was the only way to change DNA, but it was problematic. Your body remembers how it was made. Splicing rogue genes into your DNA can corrupt it, which can lead to a sudden, painful death.
Instead, most gentech uses ribbons of protein that cover your DNA like clothing covers your body. Underneath, you’re still the same naked person you always were, but you can dress yourself up or down to make yourself look different. That’s why you need a panel – your DNA keeps trying to take off its clothes and go au naturel, and your panel keeps forcing it to dress up.
But Cole’s underlying DNA, beneath the layers of gentech, looks altered, which should be impossible. It’s hard to tell if I’m reading the output from his panel correctly, and maybe I’m not, but something tells me that whatever gave Cole the scars across his chest left him with even bigger scars on his DNA.
‘What …’ he murmurs, stirring. ‘Where am I?’
I look up from the screen. ‘You’re in South Dakota, last time I checked.’
He tries to lift his hands, but the handcuffs stop him. He jerks forward, making the whole counter shudder, but it doesn’t move. It’s steel frame, fire resistant, bolted into the wall. He growls. ‘What the hell did you do to me?’
‘I knocked you out with a piece of code. I don’t think it’s good for your nervous system, so please don’t make me do it again.’
‘I knew I shouldn’t have let you touch my panel.’ His eyes drop to the genkit, following the cable all the way to his forearm. He tenses. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Reading.’
‘Take it out.’
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘Just take the cable out.’ His voice is strained, his forehead glistening.
‘OK, OK.’ I type a command. The cable slithers out of his arm and flips around on the floor, reeling itself into the back of the genkit.
He closes his eyes. ‘Thank you.’
I raise an eyebrow, staring at him. ‘I’m sorry I knocked you out, but you were about to handcuff me. I didn’t have a choice. There’s no reason to be afraid.’
‘Yeah, right.’ He shakes his head. ‘And you’re probably afraid of me.’
‘Well …’ I mutter. ‘Have you seen yourself?’
He smiles bitterly. ‘I’m just a soldier, Catarina. I’m muscle and training, but you’re a coder, like Lachlan. Most people are afraid of the guy with the gun, but the person they should be afraid of is the one with a genkit cable. It’s software that runs the show in this world, not hardware. People like you are always in control.’
I drop my eyes, remembering Cole’s face when I first jacked him into my genkit. He was nervous, sweating. He flinched when the cable connected. I didn’t think about it, but it should have been obvious that he was afraid of what I’d do to him. I’ve seen the scars on his chest. He didn’t get those from combat.
He got them in a lab.
Guilt settles in my stomach. I’ve been afraid of Cole since he arrived, but he hasn’t even come close to hurting me. And what have I done? I used a dose to blow out a window and slice his shoulders to shreds. I jacked him into a genkit and ran electricity through his body. I dumped a Trojan into his panel and knocked him out with a word.
Of course he’s afraid of me.
I chew my lip. ‘I’m sorry. I guess we haven’t got off to a good start.’
‘That’s a hell of an understatement.’
I hold his gaze. ‘Look, my father left a plan to release the vaccine. There’s a note in your panel that explains everything. Read it, you’ll see.’
His eyes glaze over, flitting back and forth as he drops into a VR session. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then his eyes focus on mine. ‘It says all we need is your father’s notes and a clonebox.’
I pause, recalling the note. Cloneboxes are rare machines for studying code that’s running inside live cells, and they’re not easy to find. But that’s not all my father told us to do. ‘No, he said we need a lab. He said there was one left set up for us, somewhere in Canada. He didn’t leave the directions, but there must be something to tell us where it is.’
‘I know where it is,’ Cole mutters.
‘How?’
‘There’s a Cartaxus lab in Canada. A place he used to work that’s abandoned now. That must be what he’s talking about.’
‘OK,’ I say, nodding. ‘So we just need to gather all of my father’s notes that we can, find the lab and drive there, and pick up a clonebox on the way.’
Cole just watches me. ‘There’s no we, Catarina. Cartaxus has cloneboxes and labs, and I don’t think they’re going to restrict the vaccine. I don’t see why I can’t copy the notes, take them back to Cartaxus and leave you to follow this plan on your own.’
I sigh. ‘I need the copy of the vaccine that’s in your arm. And besides, I can’t make it to Canada on my bike.’
‘Why don’t you ask your terrorist friends for help?’
I bunch my hands into fists. ‘I told you, they’re not terrorists. All they do is distribute medical code.’
‘Someone attacked your father’s lab.’
‘I know, and I meant it when I said it wasn’t the Skies, but that doesn’t mean I trust them with this. They’re disorganized, their code is sloppy, and Cartaxus is probably listening in on their network, anyway. If my father wanted their help, he would have said so, but he didn’t. All he said was that you and I have to work on this together.’
Cole leans back against the counter, sighing. ‘Well, we’re off to a fine start.’
I scrape my hands over my face. He’s right – this is ridiculous. How am I supposed to drive with him across the country when I can’t even bring myself to uncuff him?
There has to be a way for us to work on this together. My father’s plan relies on it. The whole world relies on it.
I shift on the floor until I’m sitting cross-legged on the concrete, facing him. ‘Why are you even here, Cole?’
He lifts an eyebrow. ‘I thought we went over that. Looming apocalypse, unlocking the vaccine, remember?’
‘No, I mean – why you? You were safe in a base with airlocks and food, and it’s clear that you don’t want any part of this plan. My father must have chosen you for a reason, and I need to know what it is.’
He tilts his head back, watching me. ‘Why should I tell you?’