Machine Man - Max Barry [46]
WHEN I reached the Glass Room I noticed a lot of Z-spec-wearing lab assistants. They were grinning. At first I thought they were pleased to see me but by the time I reached my desk I suspected they were playing some kind of joke. “Hello,” I said to one, and she said hello and her lips stretched wider. I settled the Contours and poked on my computer. They hovered, eight or ten of them. When I couldn’t stand it, I said, “What?”
“Notice anything different?” I realized this was Jason. I hadn’t recognized him at first because the Z-specs occupied half his face. I wasn’t used to identifying people by their lips. I looked from one set to another.
“No.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No.”
“Would you like us to take off our glasses?”
“Not really.”
Someone stifled a giggle. “All right,” I said. “Take them off.”
They pulled off the specs. Underneath, they had no pupils. That’s how it looked. “We can’t,” said Jason. There was laughter. “We’re still wearing them.”
I rose in the Contours. Closer up, I could see flat silver circles swimming in his pupils. Tiny silver floating suns.
“We miniaturized. Now they’re lenses.”
“Z-lenses,” corrected a girl.
“Silicon and gel on flexible polycarbonate wafers,” said Jason. “You don’t use your eyebrows to control the zoom. You blink.” His eyelids fluttered. His silver pupils swirled like mist.
“I see,” I said.
“No, you don’t.” More laughs. “Not without Z-lenses. Not really.”
I looked at their proud, smiling, pupilless faces. I was being less enthusiastic than they wanted. But it was weird. “Okay,” I said. “Good work.”
I WORKED on parts during the day and visited Lola every evening. Sometimes she slept. More and more she was awake. She lay with hair exploding across her pillow and put her hand on my arm as we talked. She could laugh and tell stories but she tired quickly and it was always over too soon.
“I’ve never liked my ears,” she said. “Look. They’re way too high.”
“Too high for what?”
“For …” She smiled, let go of her hair, and slapped my arm. In the setting sun, she looked very warm. “For looks.”
“They look great.” I touched her ear. I couldn’t quite believe I was allowed to do this, but I was. I was. “Your helixes follow the golden ratio.”
“That’s good?”
“I can prove it mathematically.”
“I wish you’d gone to my high school.”
“Your ears are excellent,” I said. “For biology.”
“Ah.” She nestled a little lower in the pillow, which meant it was almost time to go. “I suppose you could do better.”
“Well …”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know. No. I couldn’t.”
“You could, though.”
“I like your biology,” I said. “You have great biology.”
“But …”
“Well, functionally …”
“Yes?”
“There are areas for improvement.”
“Tell me some.”
“Well …” I glanced at the mirror. It was hard to know how private we were.
“If you had to change something.”
I hesitated. I touched her shoulder. “The clavicle. I guess that’s obvious. It’s not very strong. That goes for bones in general, relative to modern metals. We know how to do lightweight and strong a lot better than bones.”
“I don’t want to break.” She probed her clavicle around my fingers. In the sunlight, her hand glowed red.
“Exactly.”
“I like that you see past bodies,” Lola said dreamily. “To … something else.” She closed her eyes. I stayed a while, her hand on mine, watching her breathe.
I MADE Lab 3 my own space, forbidden to lab assistants. I couldn’t concentrate with them around. They had always been loud and energetic, laughing at nothing, exclaiming over trivia like they were the