Mira Grant - Symbiont

“Yes,” said Dr. Banks, and beamed at me, like I was a slow child who had just managed to catch up to the rest of the class.

It made me itch to punch him, to feel my knuckles sinking into the soft flesh of his cheek or throat. I clenched my hands by my sides instead, and said, “That means you used the D. symbogenesis tapeworm on a human subject to get a chimera of your very own.”

“Yes,” said Dr. Banks again. His smile this time was more strained. He was clearly getting as tired of praising me as I was of being praised. Too bad that had never been enough to make him stop.

“That worm has human DNA in it. Dr. Cale’s DNA. You took her family away from her when you took us away from her.”

“Millions of children,” said Dr. Cale, a wistful note in her voice that I had only heard on a few occasions, usually when she was talking about her friend Simone, who had died of allergies before the development of the SymboGen implant. Simone had been Dr. Cale’s motivation for wanting to solve the hygiene hypothesis. Without that dead friend, Dr. Cale would probably have turned her terrible intellect on destroying the world in some other completely accidental way.

That’s the danger of genius. One way or another, it’s going to destroy the world.

“I don’t understand,” said Dr. Banks.

“I think you do,” said Dr. Cale. “I had millions of children, and you took them away from me. So what can you possibly offer that would make up for that?”

“Data.” He produced an external hard drive from inside his shirt, holding it up for all of us to see. “I have the full record of Anna’s conversion and assimilation here, and I’m willing to give it to you, if you’re willing to help us. There are things on there that you probably haven’t even considered yet, much less advanced to the testing stage. I can help you jump your research forward by a matter of years, and all I’m asking is room, board, and a little supervised access to your lab space. Anna still needs monitoring for signs of rejection, after all.”

Anna herself didn’t say anything. After her interjection about sarcasm she had returned to her previous silence, standing like a wan shadow next to Dr. Banks. I tried to meet her eyes. She looked away. Something about that made my stomach clench, although I couldn’t have said exactly what it was. Something was wrong with Anna.

“I have all that data,” said Dr. Cale dismissively. “I brought three subjects to full integration, and I monitored them every step of the way. You’re going to have to do better if you want me to find a space for you here, and not to just shoot you and dump you out back for the feral cats.”

Dr. Banks smirked. “Ah, but all three of your subjects started in a vegetative coma. Anna didn’t.”

My stomach clenched even harder, becoming a knot of ice in my abdomen. The sound of drums was suddenly deafening, pounding in my ears until it became the entire universe, until there was nothing but the drums and no need for there to be anything else, ever again. “What did you just say?” I whispered. I wanted to shout. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t make my lips or throat obey me.

Luckily, Nathan was close enough to hear what I had said. “What did you just say, Dr. Banks?” he asked, and the sudden chill in his own voice told me that he had looked at the situation and reached the same conclusions that I had.

“I said that Anna—not her original name, you understand—did not begin her transition in a vegetative state. She was alert and aware through the bulk of her crossover. I have the data.” He held up his hard drive again, as if reminding us of its existence. “I can help you, and all I’m asking is that you give me a little help in return.”

“Help is commonly reciprocal between equals, a matter of duty from inferiors, and a matter of obligation from superiors,” said Anna, in the same calm, barely inflected tone that she had used before. Her gaze didn’t waver, continuing to stare off into the middle distance like she was looking at something the rest of us couldn’t see.

All the cold in my body consolidated into a single freezing point. I strode forward, toward Dr. Banks, ignoring the guns that were now pointed at my back. I dimly heard Dr. Cale bark an order, but as it didn’t contain my name, I neither stopped nor slowed. All my attention was fixed on the man in front of me, who smiled that old paternal smile at my approach, seeming pleased to see me walking toward him willingly.

“Sally, my dear, I knew that you would under—” he said, before my fist collided with his jaw and he stopped talking. He staggered backward, eyes wide and wounded, like a feral animal’s. The shell of cold around me shattered with the blow, but I still raised my hand, getting ready to hit him again. He deserved it.

At the last moment, I changed my mind, and snatched the hard drive from his hand instead. He stared at me, too stunned to react, which just made me want to go back to punching him. Anna, who had in her own way been a motivating factor in the chaos, said and did nothing. She just stood there, staring blankly ahead, her hand still curved like she was holding on to Dr. Banks.

“I’m tired of this,” said Dr. Cale wearily, her words audible now that the icy shell was gone. “Take them.”

Instantly, Fishy and Fang began to move, Fishy getting Dr. Banks into a headlock while Fang produced a syringe from inside his jacket and drove it into the side of Dr. Banks’s neck. Daisy stepped forward, reaching for Anna.

A wave of panicked protectiveness swept over me. I grabbed Anna’s slightly curved hand in my free one, relieved when she allowed her fingers to part long enough for me to get a good grip, and tugged her forward. She stumbled a little, but she came willingly enough.

“No,” I said, putting my free arm around Anna’s chest, so that I was holding her against me. She still put up no resistance, moving with me as malleably as a doll. “Don’t touch her. She doesn’t understand—she’s still so—don’t touch her. You need to leave her alone.”

“Sal, sweetheart, you’re going to have to let go of the new girl eventually,” said Dr. Cale. “She needs a full exam.”

“No,” I said again, turning to face her. Anna turned with me. If I hadn’t been able to feel her chest rising and falling with her breath, I would have suspected her of being a large, elaborate decoy—but no, that wasn’t possible, was it? I could feel her, a presence that had suddenly joined my overall map of the universe in an undeniably permanent way. Adam had done the same thing. He’d just taken longer, maybe because he was the first, and those channels in my mind hadn’t been open yet when he and I met.

Well, they were open now.

Dr. Cale looked at me thoughtfully, frowning. Her expression didn’t change when we heard the dull thud of Dr. Banks’s body hitting the elevator floor. Finally, she asked, “What if I let you come with her while we set her up for an examination, so that you can see that she’s safe, and then afterward we can talk about this like adults?”

It was the best that I was likely to get. It meant that I wouldn’t be leaving her alone; I could get her settled, and then go find Adam. I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Anna? Is that okay with you?”

Anna didn’t say anything at all.