“I’m glad,” said her friend. “People shouldn’t want to hurt you. But for some reason, sometimes they do. When it happens, you must fight them.”

Helix didn’t know what to say to this. “At least I’m with friends now,” she said at length.

“And I’m proud of you for leaving Hector. It couldn’t have been easy for you. Just don’t think that because you were attacked, you made a mistake. There was nothing for you in that apartment.”

“Except my transceiver, and Hector’s money. I didn’t take anything with me when I left.”

Night Hag waved one hand dismissively. “Things. Things you can buy after you find work. Are you going to be a vatdiver?”

“I don’t know,” Helix shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I’m going to need some kind of job.”

“Maybe your friends can help you.”

“Maybe. But jobs are hard to find, and they’ve already done a lot. Chango borrowed this transceiver from a friend of hers, so I could call you.”

“Everybody doesn’t have a transceiver?” Night Hag looked genuinely shocked. Helix laughed at her naivety. She had always been the wise one, the experienced one. “No. Everyone does not have a transceiver.”

Chapter 5 — Wronged By God

Nathan Graham walked to the elevators, suncells in fan-shaped wall sconces brightening at his approach, signalled by his tread on the bioweave carpeting. It had taken research and development years to come up with a bacteria that would put forth a spectrum of light even approaching sunshine. These were the latest achievement, and their bright warm light was gradually spreading through the consumer market, edging out incandescent and fluorescent bulbs.

The elevator doors were covered in etched brass, a holdover from the original decor. Much of the building had been remodeled repeatedly in order to showcase the latest developments in GeneSys materials, but they saved these — oriental etchings of birds and flowers intermixed with geometric designs — and the murals on the first floor.

The doors parted and he stepped inside. “Good morning, Mr. Graham,” said the elevator, and Graham rode it down to the tenth floor. In the lobby of the research and development department he asked a vending machine for an apple juice and swiped his card through the pay slot. He downed the juice in one long gulp, and tossed the little can into the welcoming mouth of a motion sensitive trash canister. Martin’s lab was a large, white tiled affair, strewn with instruments. Martin and his two remaining lab assistants were there; Slatermeyer, a tall, anemic-looking fellow with sandy, badly cut hair, and Greenfield, shorter and stockier, his dark hair receding at his temples. They looked at him like a trio of startled rabbits.

Graham walked along the counter-lined perimeter of the room, glancing at this instrument and that. Everything was gleamingly spotless. Graham had no doubt that Martin had spent the better part of the week preparing for this visit. He had probably also rid the lab of anything he really wanted to see.

“The biopolymer being produced in test vats shows some remarkable properties,” said Martin. "Look at these electron holomicrographs." He walked to the holomicroscope. In its viewing platform rested a shallow pan containing a vibrant blue strip of biopoly. He fiddled with the dials of the scope until a three-dimensional holographic schema of the biopoly’s cellular matrix appeared in the air; vivid green, yellow and blue shapes representing mitochondria, endoplasmic reticulum and secretory granules.

“It’s an aromatic amino acid with a fullerian side group — a bucky ball with trapped silver ions,” said Martin enthusiastically. “It’s extremely versatile and has a high rate of synthesis.”

“What?”

“It grows fast,” said Slatermeyer.

Was that all? Graham rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And that’s not all,” interjected Greenfield, “Because of the trapped silver ions, it conducts electricity very efficiently, making it quite suitable for a range of applications where other biopolys have been ruled out.”

Hector walked over to the biostat cabinet and took out a tray. “Here, feel it,” he lifted out a handful of the stuff and held it out to him.

Gingerly, reluctantly, Graham took the stuff in his hands. It was faintly warm, smelled yeasty and felt smooth, but what struck him most about the stuff was its color. A bright, deep blue that almost seemed to glow. It had a power of its own, that color. It was the color blood would be, if blood were blue, and there was something at once beautiful and repellant about it.

Graham handed it back to Hector. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands together, “what say you show me the vats where this miracle material is being produced.”

Hector glanced at his two assistants, and then back to Graham. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Impossible? Nonsense, I want to see the vats now. All this lab business is very well, but you must admit, it’s a bit off goal for the project. Remember the project? It wasn’t to make new biopolys. It was to cut labor costs. Now take me to those vats.”

“We can’t,” said Hector. “We’re in the middle of an isolation study. Any interference now would put the project back months.”

“An isolation study? What for?”

“To determine the long range impact on productivity.”

Graham gritted his teeth. “When will the test be finished?” he asked. Martin hesitated. Graham could see him thinking it through before he answered, “By the end of the month.”

“The end of the month. And you’re absolutely sure it’s necessary.”

“Oh yes, if we’re going to provide you with any figures at all concerning long term production levels.”

Graham nodded. That was exactly the data Martin’s report had lacked. He didn’t trust him, didn’t believe him, but to interfere directly with Martin’s research at this stage would only antagonize him. He didn’t want Martin going to Anna, telling her that he, Nathan Graham, wouldn’t let him do his job. Especially since he had worked so hard to rid himself of his reputation as a heavy operator, a legacy from his production days.

“Very well Dr. Martin.” Graham glanced at his watch. “I’d like to discuss the project with you in further detail, but I have a dinner appointment at the club this evening. Perhaps we can do lunch, tomorrow?”

Intense and prolonged attention might cause Martin to disclose whatever it was he was hiding, just to get Graham off his back.

“Lunch? Um, sure.”

oOo

Hector threw himself into the back of his maglev and sank into the soft, butter colored vathide cushions which ringed the ovoid riding parlor. He activated the navigation system, and it showed him a holographic list of frequent destinations. He closed the list and called up an area map, keying in the route to his sister’s house by hand. The levcar emerged from the parking garage and took a left onto Grand River, heading east towards the I-88 levway. He dialed the stereo for Vivaldi and set the retinal glass of the cabin’s windows to transparent.

The traffic was heavy but well-behaved. Levcars wove amongst each other seamlessly, guided by the surface of the road. Despite the beauty of the day, the tranquil music and the lush stands of trees gliding by on the banks of the levway, Hector could not relax. Graham’s visit to the lab that morning had left him deeply uneasy. Graham had accepted the excuse about the isolation study, for the moment, but sooner or later he would uncover the truth about the project, and Hector couldn’t even bring himself to think about what would happen then.

He had tried calling Lilith, but as usual she would not take his call. Lilith — she was named for the first woman, the one God made along with Adam, before Eve. Created equal to Adam, she demanded equal treatment, and became a demon in the eyes of the religion Hector was born into. A religion he turned to now, despite its faults, for the reassurance of the familiar rituals of the Sabbath. Bloomfield Hills was a forest of oaks and demi-elms, riddled with small maglev lanes that wove like twisting streams around the ample yards of the houses. Many of the homes here were in the late eco style, barely discernable from the hills and fields surrounding them. His sister’s place was one of these, three-quarters underground and surrounded by terraced gardens.