A Thousand Pieces of You
Page 62
“Come on, Sophia.” Theo gives her his most charming smile, which is pretty damn charming. “Don’t tell me you’re turning paranoid too.”
Mom shakes her head; one of her curls tumbles loose alongside her face. “I don’t condone what Paul has done. He broke faith with us all. But that doesn’t mean he was wrong about Triad.”
“Wait, Triad’s still pushing?” Josie says through a mouthful of salad. “I thought you guys told them to shove it.”
Dad sighs. “We tried. Turns out it’s rather difficult to get a multinational corporation to shove anything. Particularly when they bankrolled your research.”
“What exactly is it you’re trying to get Triad to shove?”
Theo holds one hand up to my parents, an I’ll-take-this-one gesture. “Some researchers at Triad wanted to push the boundaries of what we can do. Which theoretically is all good! It’s not like we don’t want to learn more about the possibilities of traveling between dimensions. But Conley doesn’t want to only send energy through dimensions. He wants to send matter.”
I shake my head no; this much I understand. “Consciousness is energy and can travel more easily. But matter is incredibly difficult, right? It’s kind of a miracle that the Firebird can make the trip.”
“That’s correct,” Mom says, now in full professor mode. “However, the Firebird also proves that matter transfer between dimensions is possible.”
“And it’s not like that’s so bad, on its own,” Theo jumps in. “I mean, how awesome would it be if we could bring back some amazing tech from a dimension slightly more advanced than ours? Bring it here, analyze it, figure out how to replicate the effects? That’s golden.”
I recall the technology from London—holographic view-screens, smartphone rings, all the rest.
“So far as that goes, I’ve no objections.” Dad looks weary. I decide to pour him a little more wine; normally he’d never have more than one glass even on New Year’s Eve, but tonight maybe he needs it. “But Conley’s pushing a more aggressive agenda. It sounds less like he wants to study other dimensions, more like he wants to, well, spy on them.”
“Can you imagine it?” Mom says. “He wants to find ways to let the travelers fully take over the bodies of their other selves. For long periods of time, if not permanently. That’s not what we envisioned. We never wanted to harm anyone, and what Conley’s talking about goes beyond harm. The Firebirds would be used to . . . to steal people from themselves.”
Dad shakes his head as though he’s just had a chill. “You could be talking to your best friend and have no idea they’d been replaced by a spy from another dimension. It’s bloody well terrifying.”
Theo and I glance sideways at each other and sit very, very still.
Mom takes a deep breath. “Anyway. As I said, Paul went too far. It’s too late to keep Triad from developing the technology further. Much too late.” She says this with obvious regret. “They’ve only been set back a few months. He would have done better to work with us; I still think we might be able to convince Conley that the risks outweigh the benefits.”
“Exactly,” Theo says. “Change comes from within, right?”
“Which is why we let you take on that Triad internship, but we shouldn’t have,” Dad says. “They’ve overworked you these past few months; we weren’t even sure we’d get to see you tonight. You’re aware you’re running dangerously behind on your dissertation, aren’t you?”
Theo groans. “Please, can we not invoke the name of the dissertation on a holiday? It’s like saying ‘Bloody Mary’ three times in front of a mirror at midnight.”
Dad holds up his hands, like, I surrender. I remember him making that exact same gesture when I argued that I should get to paint in my room, because any stains would be my own problem. The memory makes me smile, and yet want to cry at the same time.
“Anyway, I didn’t mind being at Triad,” Theo continues. “It gave me a chance to defend our work. And, you know, I get that Conley wants some return on his investment. We simply have to make him understand the limits, ethical and literal. Because, seriously, there’s only so much we’re ever going to be able to bring across dimensions.”
“Let us pray. Now can we discuss something else? I confess, I can’t yet think of Paul without—” Dad’s voice trails off, and I know he wants to say something about being angry, but that’s not right. He’s not angry; he’s heartbroken.
Quietly Mom says, “I made him a birthday cake.”
“Don’t do this to yourself.” Theo takes Mom’s hand and squeezes it tightly, a gesture as loving as any I’ve ever given her. “Okay, Sophia?” She nods sadly.
Then Dad straightens in his chair. “Marguerite, we’re distracted, but we’re not that distracted.”
What is he talking about? Then I realize that, after pouring wine for everyone else at the table, I had helped myself to some. We drank wine in the Winter Palace; I’d honestly forgotten there was such a thing as an age limit. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Go ahead,” Mom says. “It’s New Year’s Eve.” She raises one eyebrow. “But don’t go making a habit of it.”
“All my fault, I’m sure.” Theo grins. “Everybody knows I’m a bad influence.”
Mom shakes her head; one of her curls tumbles loose alongside her face. “I don’t condone what Paul has done. He broke faith with us all. But that doesn’t mean he was wrong about Triad.”
“Wait, Triad’s still pushing?” Josie says through a mouthful of salad. “I thought you guys told them to shove it.”
Dad sighs. “We tried. Turns out it’s rather difficult to get a multinational corporation to shove anything. Particularly when they bankrolled your research.”
“What exactly is it you’re trying to get Triad to shove?”
Theo holds one hand up to my parents, an I’ll-take-this-one gesture. “Some researchers at Triad wanted to push the boundaries of what we can do. Which theoretically is all good! It’s not like we don’t want to learn more about the possibilities of traveling between dimensions. But Conley doesn’t want to only send energy through dimensions. He wants to send matter.”
I shake my head no; this much I understand. “Consciousness is energy and can travel more easily. But matter is incredibly difficult, right? It’s kind of a miracle that the Firebird can make the trip.”
“That’s correct,” Mom says, now in full professor mode. “However, the Firebird also proves that matter transfer between dimensions is possible.”
“And it’s not like that’s so bad, on its own,” Theo jumps in. “I mean, how awesome would it be if we could bring back some amazing tech from a dimension slightly more advanced than ours? Bring it here, analyze it, figure out how to replicate the effects? That’s golden.”
I recall the technology from London—holographic view-screens, smartphone rings, all the rest.
“So far as that goes, I’ve no objections.” Dad looks weary. I decide to pour him a little more wine; normally he’d never have more than one glass even on New Year’s Eve, but tonight maybe he needs it. “But Conley’s pushing a more aggressive agenda. It sounds less like he wants to study other dimensions, more like he wants to, well, spy on them.”
“Can you imagine it?” Mom says. “He wants to find ways to let the travelers fully take over the bodies of their other selves. For long periods of time, if not permanently. That’s not what we envisioned. We never wanted to harm anyone, and what Conley’s talking about goes beyond harm. The Firebirds would be used to . . . to steal people from themselves.”
Dad shakes his head as though he’s just had a chill. “You could be talking to your best friend and have no idea they’d been replaced by a spy from another dimension. It’s bloody well terrifying.”
Theo and I glance sideways at each other and sit very, very still.
Mom takes a deep breath. “Anyway. As I said, Paul went too far. It’s too late to keep Triad from developing the technology further. Much too late.” She says this with obvious regret. “They’ve only been set back a few months. He would have done better to work with us; I still think we might be able to convince Conley that the risks outweigh the benefits.”
“Exactly,” Theo says. “Change comes from within, right?”
“Which is why we let you take on that Triad internship, but we shouldn’t have,” Dad says. “They’ve overworked you these past few months; we weren’t even sure we’d get to see you tonight. You’re aware you’re running dangerously behind on your dissertation, aren’t you?”
Theo groans. “Please, can we not invoke the name of the dissertation on a holiday? It’s like saying ‘Bloody Mary’ three times in front of a mirror at midnight.”
Dad holds up his hands, like, I surrender. I remember him making that exact same gesture when I argued that I should get to paint in my room, because any stains would be my own problem. The memory makes me smile, and yet want to cry at the same time.
“Anyway, I didn’t mind being at Triad,” Theo continues. “It gave me a chance to defend our work. And, you know, I get that Conley wants some return on his investment. We simply have to make him understand the limits, ethical and literal. Because, seriously, there’s only so much we’re ever going to be able to bring across dimensions.”
“Let us pray. Now can we discuss something else? I confess, I can’t yet think of Paul without—” Dad’s voice trails off, and I know he wants to say something about being angry, but that’s not right. He’s not angry; he’s heartbroken.
Quietly Mom says, “I made him a birthday cake.”
“Don’t do this to yourself.” Theo takes Mom’s hand and squeezes it tightly, a gesture as loving as any I’ve ever given her. “Okay, Sophia?” She nods sadly.
Then Dad straightens in his chair. “Marguerite, we’re distracted, but we’re not that distracted.”
What is he talking about? Then I realize that, after pouring wine for everyone else at the table, I had helped myself to some. We drank wine in the Winter Palace; I’d honestly forgotten there was such a thing as an age limit. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Go ahead,” Mom says. “It’s New Year’s Eve.” She raises one eyebrow. “But don’t go making a habit of it.”
“All my fault, I’m sure.” Theo grins. “Everybody knows I’m a bad influence.”
