Shay - Delphine AU | Part 22* (Rough Draft)
Could Shay and Delphine have been a thing in a different universe?
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*, 19, 20*, 21*, 22*
An unexpected message greeted Shay when she checked her phone first thing in the morning.
unknown [2:03]: Hey Shay. This is Cosima. Any chance you're up?
The timestamp disconcerted Shay. Unlike herself, who'd gone to bed before midnight as she commonly did, Cosima had clearly been up at two in the morning. That wasn't potentially unsettling in itself, but the fact that Cosima had sought out her company at that hour raised a flag. Most people, Shay assumed, who weren't particularly acquainted with someone, neighbor or no, would consider two in the morning to be an inconvenient and impolite time to contact someone. Which meant, as far as Shay could sift through possibilities, that Cosima didn't view impulsive two am outreach as outside the norms of conduct, Cosima had been bored, or Cosima had needed help.
The final possibility leapt to the forefront of the pack and fixated in Shay's muddled morning mind. Shay wasn't a fan of letting things stew and stewing baselessly from first thing in the morning was not how she wanted to start her day. Shay saved Cosima to her contacts and fired off a reply.
To Cosima [6:18]: Hey. Sorry. Just got ur message. Everything OK?
Shay put her phone aside but her phone chirped immediately. Startled, Shay retrieved it.
From Cosima [6:18]: No probs. I figured you were asleep.
To Cosima [6:19]: ur up already?
From Cosima [6:19]: Still up.
To Cosima: [6:19]: u didn't sleep? everything ok?
From Cosima [6:20]: Yeah. Just some drama.
From Cosima [6:20]: I guess it got me a little down. But it's OK now.
To Cosima [6:21]: U sure?
That Cosima might have spent the whole night up signaled that she might have been more than a "little down." Shay reviewed her schedule.
To Cosima [6:22]: I don't have to be at work until 10 today. Do u want to come down in like 20 minutes for tea?
From Cosima [6:23]: That sounds cool.
Typically Shay started her weekday mornings with yoga and meditation, sometimes a short run, before breakfast and a shower. Routine, she found, helped anchor days and move them along manageable tracks, especially on days where time seemed to stand still or slip away. A deviation of this nature intruded few and far between, but Shay was washed up, dressed, lightly dusted for presentation, and had the kettle on the stove when the knock, a touch timid, landed on her door.
Cosima looked exhausted, even though her makeup was just about perfect, winged eyeliner as expertly applied as Shay had ever seen it. The weariness resided more in her posture, an impression that she was holding herself apart, the bowed slump of her shoulders curling her shawl close about her person.
"Hey," Shay greeted her softly, as if raising her voice might strike cracks in her visitor.
"Hey," Cosima echoed, throwing out one of her little waves. "Sorry to barge in like this."
Shay ushered Cosima inside. "You're not barging in, I invited you."
She installed Cosima at her skinny dining table. "I don't have anything exciting by way of breakfast foods except cereal or fruit if you're hungry."
Cosima glanced at the tiered fruit basket on the counter, currently displaying bananas, apples, oranges, and avocados. She smiled. "No, thanks, I'm not that hungry."
The kettle whistled and Shay turned off the stovetop while moving the kettle to sit on a cold coil. "Is green tea okay? Or do you want something stronger, like a black? I have English and Irish Breakfast. Or would you rather not have any caffeine at all? I have rooibos and herbals."
Cosima's smile jerked into a grin of amusement. "I like green."
With the water cooling down from boiling, Shay took her time to measure out three teaspoons of Dragon Well loose leaf into the teapot she'd laid out on a tray with two small, matching cups. She gave the water a little more time to lose heat, then poured it over the leaves in the basket. The whole arrangement was delivered to the table, where Shay discovered Cosima sitting with one foot pulled up and tucked beneath her, casual and comfortable as could be. Cosima turned one of the cups between her fingers, smiling. Within a minute Shay served two portions and fished out the basket of unfurled leaves from the water remaining in the pot.
Settled next to Cosima, hostess duties complete, Shay pressed her fingertips lightly against the teacup to absorb the warmth and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Cosima shook her head, not necessarily in a motion of denial, but with a rueful air. "There's nothing much to talk about, really. My . . . my family got wind of a secret and all hell broke loose. Like I mentioned: drama."
"It kept you up," Shay observed gently. "Was it your secret? Or one you were helping to keep?"
Cosima looked into the clear, light golden liquid in her cup. "Something like that. Any way you slice it, I got caught in the middle."
Shay cupped her chin in a hand and propped herself up on the tabletop. "Did everyone find out you're gay?"
Cosima laughed, seemingly delighted by the notion. "I couldn't hide that if I tried--and I didn't. That's old news; everyone knows." Cosima shook her head. "No, dude, it wasn't that." She sighed, tipping her cup carefully forward and back to swirl the liquid but not jostle it. "It was more like . . . knowledge kept on the downlow because it might upset some people. It got out and now everyone's worried."
Shay tipped her head. "You knew?"
Cosima nodded. "And people are kind of upset I didn't let them know what was up. We . . . sort of got into it."
"But you couldn't tell them before?" Shay asked.
Cosima breathed in deeply and released it in a sigh. "It's a problem and there's no solution yet, so I didn't see a point in mentioning it when the only outcome would have been to make people worry. Everyone's already dealing with a lot of problems, so I didn't want to add to everyone's stress. Not without, you know, having some kind of silver lining to offer."
"Is it a problem that affects everyone in your family?" Shay wondered.
"No," Cosima said. "Not yet. It could, I guess, but not yet." Cosima cleared her throat. "I guess . . . it made me feel shitty."
"What did? Hiding it?" Shay sipped the tea. It was a little under-steeped.
Cosima did a little double-take, the slightest jerk of her head. "Just . . . the whole situation. And having to talk about it. I didn't realize it was going to be such a big deal. I mean, I knew it was a big thing. I just wasn't . . . prepared. I didn't see the confrontation coming, which I realize now was stupid. And then to get that type of reaction--there were a lot of questions and I didn't have any answers." Cosima exhaled sharply through her nose. "I don't know why it got me to me. It's not like I haven't been trying to find answers. You know? But I need time." Cosima paused. "I thought I would have more time."
Shay studied Cosima. "You must be exhausted. I think the first step now is to get some sleep. With some rest you'll be more clear-headed and you can give the problem another look."
Cosima nodded slowly. She took a sip of tea, then squinted at her cup.
"It needed to steep longer," Shay said, acknowledging the problem.
Cosima chuckled. "Thought it was maybe my tastebuds going." She drank a little more. "You're probably right. I should get into work but I'm not going to be much good if I'm a zombie."
"Just let Delphine know," Shay murmured.
Cosima gave her a sharp look. "Why, you think she'll be upset?"
Shay shook her head. "No. I just don't see any reason to worry her."
Cosima nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, I guess I've done enough worrying people for one twenty-four-hour period."
Shay rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."
Cosima smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah, you did. But that's okay."
"You're incorrigible," declared Shay. "I'm sending you up to bed before you get sillier."
They walked to the door, where Shay held it opened and Cosima, head bowed in thought, made to step out. As Cosima crossed the threshold, Shay grasped her elbow. Cosima turned and lifted her head quizzically.
"Do you want a hug?" Shay asked softly.
Surprise and astonishment widened Cosima's eyes. "You offering?"
Shay spread her arms.
Cosima stared at her, on the verge of a baffled smile. Then there was the slightest slump in her shoulders and, wordlessly, Cosima stepped into Shay, one arm winding around her back to hold her loosely. Shay enfolded Cosima more securely and patted her back reassuringly.
"It'll be okay," Shay said softly, tightening her hold.
Chin upon Shay's shoulder, Cosima nodded. For a tick, Cosima squeezed back. Then she stepped away, a little bashful. Shay wished her a good night.
Cosima smirked. "You have a good day."
With one last little goodbye wave, Cosima went on her way. Shay lingered in the doorway, then closed it softly on the sight of Cosima's retreating back.
*
The message arrived before Delphine managed to get out of the door of her apartment.
From Cosima [07:07]: Going to come in late. Maybe in the afternoon.
Delphine's gut clenched in concern. Was Cosima feeling unwell? Was her body rejecting the stem cells? They'd be back to square one, step one, with less time on the clock to muster a new plan of approach.
To Cosima [07:07]: Are you okay? Are you in pain? Are you feeling sick?
From Cosima [07:08]: I'm fine. No pain. No irritation. Had a late night, so I'm going to catch up on sleep.
From Cosima [07:09]: I told you I'm a night owl. Don't sweat it.
Cosima's message was straightforward and, though a feeling of unease twisted about her middle, Delphine saw no reason that Cosima would lie--any spite or animosity she felt for Delphine wouldn't extend that far. (Right?) Delphine sent her a simple "OK" in acknowledgement and went into the DYAD according to her usual schedule. As she flashed her identification badge at the entrance, the security guard hailed her.
Aldous required her presence.
Delphine repressed a frown. Cosima's tardiness was just as well.
Aldous smiled tightly at Delphine when she stepped into his office and gestured to one of the chairs.
"Good morning, Delphine."
"Hello, Aldous," Delphine replied, sinking into a seat. On an impulse, she ventured, "How was the beer?"
Aldous smiled tightly. "Not to my tastes."
Which, Delphine had to admire, was an acceptable answer that provided nothing substantive--not whether he'd heeded Cosima's invitation or if anything transpired in the event that he had--but, if questioned by her, would draw suspicion.
He regarded her. "Perhaps you have more insight into this than I do."
Delphine put her confusion on open display. "The last I saw of Cosima was here, yesterday, before she went home."
"Home," Aldous repeated, tasting the word. "That's right. A bit of an unusual choice of residence, don't you think? Its location is not that convenient. Did you help her find it?"
Delphine shook her head. "No. Cosima found it on her own. I told her HR could help her find accommodations, but it seems she didn't solicit their help."
"I wonder why she chose that location, then," Aldous wondered aloud idly.
Delphine lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, lips pursing with uncertainty. "For the style, perhaps? She is a bit . . . eccentric."
Aldous's eyes sharpened on her face. "Is that so? What do you think of her, now that you've gotten to know her better?"
Delphine pressed two fingers to her lips. "She's intelligent, curious, and knowledgeable--across a wide range of topics. But guarded." Delphine shook her head. "She doesn't trust me, Aldous."
Aldous's eyes narrowed on her in heightened scrutiny. Delphine's gut clenched. For one cold-sweat-triggering moment she thought he would give the order--go be a monitor. To the fullest. She knew what it would entail, but she didn't know if--she heard Cosima scoffing at her--she could--if she would--
But Aldous merely hummed in his throat.
"For the time being her health remains the top priority. But that doesn't mean you should slacken your vigilance."
Delphine swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat and nodded.
"There's a matter I wanted to run by you. Cosima mentioned that she could use a sequencing tech." He scooped up a folder at hand, like the other countless nondescript manila folders that had become ubiquitous in their dealings. "If you recall, any incoming personnel is subject to our approval."
Delphine heard the "our" and at first thought it a generous allowance that Aldous enfolded her into the decision-making process. Upon further reflection she could see that it was a binding, segregating word choice--she and Aldous and DYAD together arrayed against the uncircumscribed: Cosima and the other subjects.
Delphine ran her eye over the résumé. "This . . . Scott Smith isn't from DYAD? In fact, he's still completing his doct-" Delphine lifted her head. "--University of Minnesota."
Aldous unveiled an impenetrable smile.
"The same university that Cosima attended?" Delphine asked, posing it more as a question than a statement. She wasn't versed in all the names of the individual states of the United States of America and there was a chance she was confusing any number of them. (She had no idea where Minnesota even was on a map.) But the light in Aldous's eyes lent confirmation. "Do they know each other?"
Aldous folded his hands, placed his elbows upon his desktop, and leaned forward. "When Cosima began to conduct research into her biology, she had to use the resources available to her. There's reason to believe that she enlisted Mr. Smith to help her."
Delphine cocked an eyebrow. "So he knows?"
"All our probes suggest that she didn't inform him as to the nature of her tests."
"Have you . . . vetted him?" Delphine asked carefully.
"Not in the manner you're thinking. He applied to us of his own volition independently. He actually has a letter of recommendation from his dean." A small laugh issued from Aldous. "It's not bad. His grades are good. He seems capable."
Delphine frowned. "But bringing him in would be introducing a foreign element, a--a foreign agent. One you cannot be sure can be trusted. If he is to work closely with Cosima and myself, he would be exposed to very sensitive information. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"
"Better to ask if that's a risk he's willing to take," Aldous said serenely. "It's a position you should understand well. If he wants what's behind the closed door, he's going to have to take the plunge."
"But he'd be exposed to . . . everything," Delphine breathed.
"That, I suspect, will rather depend on Cosima."
Delphine sat back in her chair. After a moment, she nodded slowly. "You think Cosima will try to shield him from the entire truth. Bringing in someone among the DYAD personnel might encourage her to be wary of trusting, as she is with me." She studied Aldous flatly. "And, perhaps, if she takes him into her confidence, and if she won't be friends with me, perhaps she has a friendship with him." Her brow furrowed. "But . . . what evidence is there that he would cooperate with you in any event?"
As she wove her thoughts, Aldous broke into a slow smile. It was almost . . . warm.
"Well?" Delphine pressed, checking a desire to fidget.
"You're getting there," intoned Aldous. Getting where? What did he mean by that? Aldous gave her no time to gather the will to ask. He pointed at the folder in her hands without unlacing his fingers. "What's your input?"
Delphine laid the file flat upon her lap and pressed her palms down upon the top of it. "I would urge you to hire on a criteria of skill and less, perhaps, based on his connections. We could use a good sequencing tech. But I don't know how Cosima will react to seeing a former colleague. She harbors a lot of animosity toward her previous monitor. If she suspects you've done the same to someone else she knows . . ." Delphine shook her head. "I don't know."
"But where would she go?" Aldous pointed out. "It may be that what she needs now is a friendly face."
"It's ultimately your decision," Delphine said. She placed the folder atop his desk. "Of course, you could always ask Cosima for her opinion."
"Perhaps she can have the final say," Aldous declared ambiguously.
Precisely what he meant by that, Aldous didn't bother to elaborate.
*
Cosima's absence in the lab always suspended Delphine in a strange sort of limbo. It wasn't that Cosima directed Delphine in her work or that without Cosima work couldn't be done. At times it felt like there was a mountain of work always casting a shadow over their efforts. Reams of data poured in from different sectors that potentially contained material bearing on their search, but which had to be reviewed and evaluated each in turn. No, Delphine's unease had little to do with completing work, with or without Cosima. But with Cosima out of sight--but not out of mind--an anxious anticipation set in the longer Delphine remained solitary, an expectation that at any moment Cosima would join her.
Delphine couldn't relax.
Ostensibly, yes, she was Cosima's supervisor, monitor, physician, all positions that should have inferred a modicum of confidence and authority, but when she was alone like this, Delphine felt the magnitude of the mental preparation she underwent to spend time with her subordinate, subject, patient. With Jennifer, Delphine had had the screen of professional distance. If they chatted in a friendly manner, Jennifer respected her always in her capacity as a physician. With Cosima it was a fight to ward off or diffuse the other woman's attempts to make everything personal. Cosima came with no warnings. Delphine had no inkling what the angle of attack would be, or when the shoe would drop, only the surety that confrontation was bound to occur at some point or another. She knew Cosima was watching, waiting.
It was exhausting.
But only in these moments of calm did Delphine realize to what extent.
Delphine was aware of the irony.
The solitude did offer privacy. Out of idle curiosity and still mulling on her morning meet with Aldous, Delphine made a search for Bobby's. The first result was a local cafe and bar that hosted live, mostly indie, talent. Delphine didn't have much knowledge of Toronto's geographical makeup to make much of the location. Pictures of the interior made her smile to imagine Aldous being forced to patronize such an establishment, but she could easily imagine Cosima at the bar. She tried substituting Jennifer and Greg in the setting and had a harder time of it, but not impossible. For that matter, Shay wasn't a difficult fit, either; Bobby's appeared to be akin to the casual spots they used to frequent in the early days of their friendship. Delphine almost wished she and Shay had discovered it themselves.
She couldn't bring Shay there now.
While she was performing searches, Delphine tried running Scott Smith through Google, which was shortsighted. Narrowing it down to any Scott Smith of the University of Minnesota was of little help. A handful of candidates popped up. Without more to go on, Delphine abandoned the endeavor.
Cosima Niehaus proved a much more unique inquiry. Delphine wasn't sure what she had expected, but presented with results, she hesitated. She wasn't sure why. The Internet was a public space. Anything Delphine stumbled upon was, technically, open game. With the amount of knowledge Cosima had aired on DYAD's operations and history, Delphine assumed Cosima had run "Delphine Cormier" through the bot crawlers.
Delphine paused. She opened another tab and ran her own name through Google. Results associating her with DYAD were first and prominent. There were hits on French sites, passing mentions of her in university publications or notices of academic awards, an abstract of a study to which she had contributed. There was even a picture of her and other interns posing eager and sunny with Aldous featured proudly on the DYAD website in the portion highlighting career opportunities.
Nothing new or surprising there.
Closing the tab returned her to Cosima's. Delphine contemplated the array of blue unvisited links. After a moment, she closed that tab as well.
Maybe Cosima was waging a war, but Delphine wasn't. Not against Cosima. Not against DYAD.
Delphine was fighting a disease.
She got back to work.
*
At around three in the afternoon Cosima strolled into the lab. It was, Delphine supposed, more or less the time Cosima said she would arrive, as far as "afternoon" could be blanketed over the block of hours following noon, but a part of Delphine felt irked Cosima hadn't bothered to send any sort of update over the course of the day, not even a quick missive to say she was heading in. Not that Delphine would have waited beyond the time she usually left the lab--but she would have informed Cosima of the fact.
Delphine knew on some rational level that her exasperation, such as it were, didn't derive from a sense of being snubbed by Cosima. Rather she found it difficult to understand how the intradermal test incubating in Cosima's skin hadn't impressed upon Cosima the same sense of urgency and impatience that it did in Delphine. Perhaps for Cosima literally carrying the answer in her arm and being able to gauge the results with a quick look and self-assessment dampened the mystery.
Cosima must have read the restlessness on Delphine's face because she didn't waste any time shedding bags, scarf, and coat upon the couch to brandish her arm as if she were displaying an additional tattoo. "Have a look."
Cosima confirmed she felt no fever, no pain, no discomfort. The injection site displayed no signs of irritation, no redness, no inflammation, barely an aberration to mark its spot. It was encouraging. A burst of relief and exaltation flooded Delphine. This was the first promising sign she'd seen in months.
She had to dare herself to believe it.
Cosima didn't share the sentiment, at least not to the degree it manifested in Delphine. Where Delphine couldn't suppress a smile, Cosima was subdued, gauging Delphine's reaction, as if trying to glean what her own reaction should be.
Smile fading, Delphine said to her reserved patient, "This is looking like good news. It'll only take a short time for an analysis of your blood to confirm compatibility."
Cosima nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know."
As she tied off Cosima's bicep, Delphine raked Cosima's face for clues. "Are you apprehensive about the actual treatment?"
Cosima smirked. "No, not really. I'm willing to try anything, even pumping the dental pulp of baby teeth into invasive and unmentionable places. I mean, we've already conducted the unsexiest gynecological exam possible, how much worse can it get?"
"I thought you would be a little more . . . excited," Delphine hazarded, swabbing a patch of Cosima's skin with alcohol.
Cosima surveyed Delphine's face surreptitiously. "I am. I mean, I get that finding a match was basically a minor miracle, given the chances are like a million to one."
Delphine arched an eyebrow at "minor miracle," even as she slid the needle into Cosima's arm. Cosima hissed. Jennifer had reacted the same way most times. Was there something indelicate and clumsy about Delphine's technique?
Delphine shook her head, both at Cosima's comment and her apparent "skill" at drawing blood. "We've been searching our databases for a match for months. It may be that our persistence is finally paying off." She glanced into Cosima's face. "Perfect timing for you."
Cosima was quiet for a beat. "I mean it when I say that I wish you had found it sooner."
Delphine swapped the filled vial with an empty one. She kept her eyes on her task, perhaps to mask the flight of her thoughts to Jennifer. "As do I. But it could have taken longer, as well. So, you see, perfect timing."
Cosima sighed. "Maybe."
Delphine risked a frown in her direction. "What is it?"
Cosima shrugged her unclaimed arm. "There's a lot riding on this."
"Your life," Delphine breathed. "Yes, I know."
Cosima shook her head, as if Delphine had missed her meaning, and glanced away at the nearby computer monitor. Delphine waited for her to explain, but nothing further followed. Instead Cosima asked, "How come you didn't go into practicing medicine? You went through all the trouble of getting a medical degree."
"I considered it," Delphine admitted. "But then the DYAD entered the picture. I thought I would be able to . . . accomplish more with them."
"What, like you knew about the human cloning trials even then?"
Delphine shook her head as she drew the final vial. "I knew I wanted to research, but competition for spots at reputable hospitals is very high. Going that route would have taken me much longer to build a reputation and to find funding for anything I might have wanted to pursue, not to mention that I would have to fit in research alongside rotations. With the DYAD, I could focus on research and funding would be less of an issue. They're also able to move trials through various stages much more quickly and efficiently. Their ties with governments are very good and, since they are a multinational, the fields of research are much . . . broader."
"Right," Cosima said slowly. "I assume that line of thinking was from back when you thought they followed laws."
Delphine smiled tightly and pressed a cotton ball to the crook of Cosima's arm. Reaching up to hold it in place herself as Delphine undid the tie around her bicep, Cosima cocked her head and asked, "Or did whether or not they followed laws never matter to you? I mean, it is a tenet of Neolutionism that self-modification is a human right--and, by the logic that human rights are inalienable, governments shouldn't be able to deny or withhold them."
Delphine raised her eyes to meet Cosima's penetrating gaze. "Maybe I didn't care."
Cosima's gaze narrowed. "DIdn't? But now you do?"
Delphine pivoted and backed up to grip and lean against the edge of the adjacent desktop, inhaled deeply, and released a long breath. "If you ask me why they pursue this or that line of inquiry, I can see the reasons, even if the only driving motivation is proof of concept." She gazed off toward the far side of the room. "I can't say I wouldn't do the same. Theory remains theory outside of the practical and provable. In medicine particularly. Even a cure for you is predicated on attempting something, because to do nothing only ensures one thing."
"My death, yeah," Cosima provided blandly. "No need for euphemisms, Dr. Cormier. Though consider your attempt at bedside manner acknowledged."
Delphine attempted a smile that blinked into existence for but a second. "The DYAD is about opportunities. It's what I saw. It's what I took. It wasn't a forfeiture of my medical experience, but a redirection of it. I wanted to do medicine." Delphine nodded to herself. "I am doing medicine."
Cosima regarded Delphine. "Have you ever seen the entire genome--not the original, obvs, but one of ours?"
Delphine checked a laugh. "Any genome . . . makes for quite a long read."
Cosima smirked. "You know, when Leekie first made me an offer to work with DYAD--after we stopped pretending he didn't know anything and I didn't know anything--he gave me my entire genome. In fact, I have it with me." With her chin she indicated her bag.
Delphine followed her line of sight but returned her attention to Cosima with puzzlement. "Okay?"
"Here's the thing," Cosima said, "he claims it contains my entire genome, but it's missing a piece."
Delphine's brow contracted. "What do you mean?"
Cosima flexed her arm, lifted the cotton ball to check the clotting, then pressed it back into place. "We knew about Katja being sick. She was trying to get to us because she needed a doctor. So I had her and my DNA analyzed for any genetic markers of various diseases. At the same time, I had it sequenced for Cytochrome C. What came out was an anomaly and, within that, two differing sequences between my genome and Katja's. You follow?"
"Yes," Delphine said cautiously, "but I don't know where you're going."
"That piece was missing from the genome that Leekie gave me." Cosima leveled Delphine with earnest somberness. "He didn't want me to see it."
"So . . . that's why you don't trust him?" Delphine wondered. "Because you know he withheld information from you?"
Cosima broke into a vicious, toothy grin. "Oh, I didn't trust him from the beginning. You can't trust a man who's been spying on you your whole life." Cosima checked the cotton ball and then tossed it into the bin. "No, what I'm getting at is that even though the sequence bothered me at the time, I didn't have any way to go at it. Then everything happened so fast that--anyway, I started thinking about it again."
Delphine, following Cosima's logic but unsure where she herself entered the picture, said, "Yes?"
"The numbers they use to identify us," Cosima said slowly, "the ones on our files--"
Delphine nodded. "The tag numbers."
"Right, tags. Like you'd put on cattle."
"To differentiate you, yes."
"But we weren't cattle and they couldn't just tattoo us, so they encoded it in our DNA. That's the difference between my DNA and Katja's."
Delphine crossed her arms and nodded.
"But what's the rest of the sequence?" Cosima wondered. "Something Leekie didn't want me to see. Something that can be decrypted." Cosima licked her lips. "You want to help me find out what?"
They studied one another.
"You're asking me to help you?" Delphine asked softly.
"Yes," Cosima intoned, "I'm asking you, my monitor, to help me crack the code in a sequence of my DNA that was kept hidden from me."
"Why?" Delphine asked softly.
Cosima shrugged dismissively. "For science. To satisfy your curiosity. For the truth." Cosima threw up a hand. "Whatever floats your boat, Delphine."
"Even though I am your monitor," Delphine said, to put it on the table between them.
"You can say no," Cosima pointed out.
Delphine frowned. "You want to do this right now?"
"I think you should send those off to the lab first, but, yeah, why not? We're going to be waiting on the results, anyway." Cosima cocked her head. "So?"
Cosima had crafted a trial to rival any one of Aldous's loyalty tests. But she'd said to go with whatever reason Delphine preferred.
Delphine had questions, too.
*
The moment "324B21" spilled across the screen after what felt like increasingly complicated and senseless suggestions sent a thrill down Delphine's spine.
The code was, like much else about the design of the project, straightforwardly simple. Even Cosima's casual, but substantial knowledge of encryptions and ciphers was more impressive than the actual key to the protein mystery.
But like the other parts of the project, the simplicity and obviousness in hindsight lent a breathtaking elegance.
Binary. Of course.
Zeros and ones.
Adenine-thymine. Cytosine-guanine.
Pure luck and arbitrary supposition landed them the correct correspondence of CG to zero and AT to one. Delphine wasn't sure they would have tried switching the two had gibberish spilled out using the reverse correlation.
"You cracked it," Delphine said, a little awed, not least because she felt transported back to the hot seat of Aldous's remonstrations: Think forward to address the hurdle, not backward trying to unravel the solution. Cosima had stumbled into the mode of thought with the ease of a fish slipping into water. Delphine sat momentarily trapped in the circuitous thought of the creation emulating a creator in the same way mankind strove to divine the purpose of gods and unseen forces--only the powers at work here were all too human and limited themselves.
The next task was far more tedious. The entire synthetic sequence was robust.
Delphine held the printout of the synthetic sequence and looked to Cosima. "Ready? Don't get confused."
Cosima smirked. "Don't lose your place."
Delphine rolled her eyes, but she tracked her progress with the tip of her thumb.
01010100010010000100100101010011010111110100111101010010010001110100000101001110010010010101001101001101010111110100000101001110010001000101111101000100010001010101001001001001010101100100000101010100010010010101011001000101010111110100011101000101010011100100010101010100010010010100001101011111010011010100000101010100010001010101001001001001010000010100110001011111010010010101001101011111010100100100010101010011010101000101001001001001010000110101010001000101010001000101111101001001010011100101010001000101010011000100110001000101010000110101010001010101010000010100110001011111010100000101001001001111010100000100010101010010010101000101100101011111010101010101001100110001001100110011001100110100001101010011010100110100001101000011001000110010001100110011001101010101010100110011100100110000001101000011000000110011001100100011010000111001001110000011001101000011001100010011001001001110001100010011010100110010001100010100001100110001001100100100111000110001001100100011010101000011001100010011001001001110001100100011001101000011001100010011001001010000001100010011100100110011001101000100010000110000001110010011000100110000001110000011001000110100010101000100000101000111001100110011001000110100010000100011001000110001
They stared at the block of numbers sitting in the translator.
"Dude," Cosima said, "I hope we got that right."
"We can double check it," Delphine said, feebly.
"Honest question," Cosima said with a sideways glance, "would you go through that whole thing again and recheck each element?"
"I would," replied Delphine, "to ensure--"
Cosima clicked the convert button.
Legible, comprehensible text began to scroll onto a new line. Delphine felt a moment's relief. Then the substance of the words struck home.
THIS_ORGANISM_AND_DERIVATIVE_GENETIC_MATERIAL_IS_RESTRICTED_INTELLECTUAL_PROPERTY_US133455442233US9040324983C12N1521C12N125C12N23C12P1934D0910824TAG324B21
They both stared at the screen in silence.
Cosima spoke first. "The crazy thing is . . . I didn't expect that."
Delphine covered her mouth with a hand. She hadn't either.
"They patented us," Cosima said in a gasp of disbelief. "They patented us. Every single one of us." She shook her head. "I thought, yeah, for sure the cloning technique would be proprietary, but . . . ." She trailed off, then, with heat, "Is this even legal? How can you own--"
But she didn't finish the thought. Delphine understood why. A person, a human being, Cosima might have said, but for the first time the question of her status as such confronted them. In the legal sense.
Cosima looked to Delphine, as if for confirmation or negation or something, but Delphine could only shake her head.
She hadn't known.
She didn't know.
Cosima's jaw worked.
"You know what," Cosima spat, that familiar anger rising to smolder beneath the surface, "I'm not gonna think about it right now." She stood up and gathered up the external hard drive and her phone with jerky impatience. "It doesn't even matter. If we all get sick and die, it doesn't mean anything."
Delphine sat helplessly devoid of encouraging words. She wanted to say something to soothe the whirl of betrayal and resentment scurrying around the lab.
"We have the stem cell line now," Delphine offered weakly.
Cosima whirled. "DYAD's stem cell line. They probably patented that, too. If Leekie wants to dangle that out of reach on top of everything else, he can." She was breathing heavily. "And let's say it works. Then what? I take DYAD to court? Yeah, that'll go over well."
"First things still first," Delphine said, steadily, "we get you well again. Then we can figure out the next step."
Cosima arched an eyebrow. "'We'?"
Delphine moistened her lips. "You." She met Cosima's eyes steadily. "You can fight them, if that's what you wish, but you need to give yourself the chance, first."
"And if we can't?" retorted Cosima. "Is someone going to fight for us?"
Cosima waited. Delphine let her question hang suspended and untouched.
Cosima smirked halfheartedly and shrugged into her coat. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Do you need a ride home?" Delphine asked as Cosima made for the door.
Cosima threw up a hand in refusal and farewell. Then she was gone and Delphine was alone with the decrypted message on the monitor and the myriad answers she might have given.
*
Shay wondered if there was a point at which an unexplained knock on her door wouldn't startle, momentarily frighten, then all around puzzle (and sometimes irritate) her. Shay wasn't altogether sure she wanted to find out, but lately forces seemed determined to escort her to the brink of discovery. The culprit on the other side of the door this evening presented itself as a wine bottle brandished by a grinning upstairs neighbor.
"Whites, right?" Cosima said by way of very cheery, non-explanatory greeting.
A lengthy beat past before Shay found her voice. "What's going on?"
Cosima tipped the bottle left, right, left, as if it were bobbing its corked neck in consideration. "Sorry about this morning, but thanks for humoring a sleep-deprived nerd?"
Shay shook her head but couldn't help an uncertain smile. "I was up. You came down for like ten minutes. It was hardly any trouble."
"It was first thing in the morning and you didn't have to invite me down at all," Cosima clarified. She thrust the offering forward. "Take the bottle of wine, Shay."
Shay took the wine, partly suspicious that Cosima would remain standing there all night otherwise. The label declared the variety a Riesling. It would fit right in among the bottles gathering upon the kitchen shelf. Shay smothered a laugh at the mental picture of her burgeoning provisions.
Cosima, watching her closely, pinged her reaction. "Is it okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Shay said quickly in reassurance. "Yeah, of course. Thank you. I was just thinking that between you and Delphine, I'm going to have to get a wine cabinet."
Cosima raised an eyebrow. "Is Delphine in the habit of liquoring you up?"
Shay laughed. "No. She's in the habit of bringing over wine if she drops by."
"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts," Cosima murmured.
Shay cocked an eyebrow at her. "Then should I be wary right now?"
Cosima grinned, an expression on her that was far too mischievous to alleviate any undue suspicions.
Shay gave her an admonishing half-smile. "The Greeks were trying to get behind the walls of Troy. You don't need to deceive your way into my place."
"No?" Cosima asked, head tilting, like a dog shooting an inquiry at a befuddling bipedal.
Shay waited a beat, knowing she'd walked into her next words. "Do you wanna come in?"
Cosima swayed on the balls of her feet. "Only if it's not any trouble."
Shay held up the Trojan horse rent in shapely green glass. "Should I open it? Do you want some? I've got a few reds, if you'd prefer that instead."
"Open this one," Cosima said. Shay stepped aside to allow Cosima access. "So you don't have to add it to your collection."
Shay recoiled at the suggestion. "Are you offering to finish the bottle? Because I drink in moderation."
"Oh, yeah?" Cosima asked, giving the studio a thorough, indiscreet once over. "Delphine hasn't figured that out yet?"
"Actually," Shay said, "I think she finally did a little while ago."
"Damn," Cosima muttered.
Shay, fishing in a drawer for the corkscrew, shot her a questioning look across the island. "What?"
"I was hoping you'd say no so I could use her ignorance to justify my own behavior."
Shay laughed, albeit with a confused air. "Justify what kind of behavior?"
Cosima shrugged nonchalantly.
Shay studied her with wariness, because that kind of answer might not bode well. There was a slump to Cosima's posture, which might indicate listlessness or just poor posture (a trait that had been forced out of Shay, only for her to reject the correction, though now she automatically gauged it in others), but she swayed from foot to foot with an energy that was almost nervous. Shay didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps Cosima felt uncertain where to situate herself. Donning the role of hostess, Shay directed Cosima toward the chairs. "Do you want to have a seat? I'll be over in a second."
Cosima took her time making her way over to the lounging options. She'd been in Shay's apartment before, but Shay realized those had been stints of short duration. This was the first time Cosima was taking in the space unrestricted and unhurried. She brushed a hand along the back of the couch as she crossed behind along its length, then circled around to lower herself on the far end.
The cork came out with a satisfying, muted pop.
"Why white?" Cosima called over to her, though her eyes wandered over other sectors of the space.
"What do you mean?" Shay asked. With the wine breathing, Shay checked the fridge for anything that might go with it.
"The common wisdom is that red wines confer more health benefits."
Shay smiled to herself. There was a sizeable wedge of brie among the cheeses, so Shay plopped it on a serving plate and plucked an apple from the fruit basket. "Maybe that's because the possible benefits of white wine aren't as well studied. White wine may have its own undiscovered perks."
The sound of water running into the sink as Shay rinsed the apple arrested Cosima's attention, and under her guest's curious eyes Shay sliced the apple into commendably thin, if not equally sized, portions. After a moment, Cosima smiled. "So, if the health benefits remain undiscovered, that's not the reason you drink white instead."
Shay smiled to herself as she transferred slices of apple from cutting board to plate, along with a cheese knife. "I can't just prefer the taste?"
"That's what I was wondering," Cosima said.
Shay tipped wine into glasses and let them sit while she bore the plate over. "I try to eat healthy, yes, but I don't cut out enjoyment. I find whites go better with the fruits and cheeses I like to eat. Besides, the less to stress out about, the better. Life's too short."
Cosima's mouth twitched. "Yeah, it is." Cosima considered the plate. "Do you always do this?"
"I try to," Shay declared as she returned on her second trip with wine glasses, deflecting any shame or judgment being cast in her direction. She held out a glass to Cosima, who took it and promptly curled up on the couch, her shoes already sitting shod on the floor. Shay settled into the single seater. "I had a Korean friend whose mom always put out these fruit spreads whenever they had guests over. Everything was skinned and sliced. I loved it."
"Huh," Cosima said. "I had an Asian girlfriend, but she never did anything like that. Then again, she was a punk rocker."
"You dated an Asian punk rocker?" Shay asked, on the verge of exclamation.
"What, you haven't?" Cosima fired back.
Shay laughed. "Can't say I have. I haven't been that . . . fortunate? Is this a California thing?"
Cosima shrugged. "We California girls aren't half bad."
Shay arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Cosima paused, a brief cloud of uncertainty shadowing her features.
"What?" Shay prompted.
Cosima shook her head, turning to her left. "Why don't I have a bathtub in the living room of my unit?"
Shay laughed. "You're unfortunate."
Cosima studied her out of the corner of her eye. "Did you install it?"
"Oh, jeeze, no," Shay said. "I found the place with it already there."
Cosima twisted further in her seat. "Did you find your bed on a wooden palette, too?"
"Hey, that took careful construction," Shay asserted, playfully affronted.
"Yeah?" Cosima asked. "Did you do it yourself? Banged it together with wood shop skills?"
"What if I did?" challenged Shay.
Cosima turned to her, grinning. "Such a lesbian."
"Takes one to know one," Shay countered, sipping at the wine.
Cosima grinned stretched just a bit wider.
Shay picked up a slice of apple and savored the clean crunch. She licked her lips and asked softly, "Feeling better?"
Cosima nodded slowly, cradling her glass of wine close. "Yeah. Maybe. Today was glass mostly empty, glass half empty, glass maybe half full . . ." Her eyes passed fleetingly over Shay's face. "Hoping it can settle on the full side now." Her gaze sharpened on a point beyond Shay. "All my plants got left behind."
Shay's features pinched in an almost frown. "Why?"
Cosima shrugged. "No idea. I guess the movers didn't want to bother. Maybe they thought the pots would be too fragile bouncing around in the back of the trailer or maybe they didn't want to risk spilling soil everywhere. Although . . . the little succulents I had could be in one of the boxes, but I haven't stumbled on any."
Shay glanced at one of the smaller pots. "Do you want one of these guys to keep you company?"
"Do they keep you company?" Cosima asked.
Shay smiled down at the floor, a little sheepish at having her word choice turned on her. "In the best possible way. They don't take up any oxygen and they're as eager to soak up sunlight as I am."
"Aw, dude," moaned Cosima, "that's like the exact opposite of everything I am. So does that make me akin to the worst company?"
"I don't know yet, it's too soon to say," Shay teased lightly. She set her wine glass aside carefully upon the floor. Straightening up, she leaned upon the armrest. "Are you always this silly?"
"What are you talking about?" Cosima snatched up a slice of apple and waved it belligerently. "I'm brilliant."
Shay nodded solemnly. "I don't doubt that." She smirked. "But it doesn't mean you can't be silly."
"What's wrong with being silly?" Cosima asked.
"There's nothing wrong with being silly."
Cosima grinned. "Okay, then, yes, I'm silly."
Shay's brow dimpled. "What if I'd said there was something wrong with being silly?"
Cosima went stone-faced. "Then I would never be caught dead being silly."
Shay shook her head, smiling. "Is this the sleep deprivation talking?"
"Dude, sleep deprivation doesn't talk," Cosima corrected, putting on an air of professorial seriousness. "At best it sort of mumbles and slurs, sometimes trails off mid-thought."
Shay's smile deepened. "You're silly."
Cosima bit at her lower lip, then broke eye contact to glance around the room. "Quick question."
"What's up?"
"A beautiful woman isn't going to walk through the door any second and chastise me, right?"
For one fleeting, erroneous second, Shay imagined Delphine striding in. But Shay recovered in the next moment with a wry smile. "Chastise you for what?"
Cosima took a second to choose her words. "For monopolizing your time."
Shay shook her head slowly. "No. No one like that's going to show up." She twitched an eyebrow at Cosima. "What about you?"
One side of Cosima's mouth pulled up to reveal a sharp canine. "Dude, long distance never works."
Shay felt a sympathetic smile touch her lips. "You left someone behind in Minnesota?"
Cosima's lips stretched into a toothy grin. "Minnesota? No, dude, try Berkeley."
*
Just beyond the door, as Shay was seeing her out, Cosima stopped and turned, head hung so that she looked at Shay from an oblique angle. "Hey."
Shay smiled in question.
"Could you--do you think I could have another one of those hugs?"
Shay's smile relaxed. "Yeah, sure. C'mere."
She crossed to Cosima, whose arms went about her with a tick of hesitation, almost shyness. Shay felt no such compunctions. Her arms closed on Cosima like a bear trap, until Cosima eased into her hold.
Shay felt the cough reverberate through Cosima's frame.
She loosened her hold and Cosima took that as a sign to separate, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.
"You okay?" Shay asked.
Cosima nodded, close-mouthed, a bashful smile trying to fight for control of her lips. When the cough settled, she cleared her throat and said, a bit gravelly, "Yeah. Sorry." She stood looking a moment at Shay. She smiled. "Thanks."
"No problem," Shay said.
Cosima's eyes skimmed across Shay's. "Good night."
Shay nodded. "Good night."
*
From Delphine [11:08]: Hey.
To Delphine [11:08]: Hey.
To Delphine [11:10]: What's up?
From Delphine [11:12]: Nothing.
From Delphine [11:12]: Good night.
To Delphine [11:14]: Good night.
//
Next
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*, 19, 20*, 21*, 22*
An unexpected message greeted Shay when she checked her phone first thing in the morning.
unknown [2:03]: Hey Shay. This is Cosima. Any chance you're up?
The timestamp disconcerted Shay. Unlike herself, who'd gone to bed before midnight as she commonly did, Cosima had clearly been up at two in the morning. That wasn't potentially unsettling in itself, but the fact that Cosima had sought out her company at that hour raised a flag. Most people, Shay assumed, who weren't particularly acquainted with someone, neighbor or no, would consider two in the morning to be an inconvenient and impolite time to contact someone. Which meant, as far as Shay could sift through possibilities, that Cosima didn't view impulsive two am outreach as outside the norms of conduct, Cosima had been bored, or Cosima had needed help.
The final possibility leapt to the forefront of the pack and fixated in Shay's muddled morning mind. Shay wasn't a fan of letting things stew and stewing baselessly from first thing in the morning was not how she wanted to start her day. Shay saved Cosima to her contacts and fired off a reply.
To Cosima [6:18]: Hey. Sorry. Just got ur message. Everything OK?
Shay put her phone aside but her phone chirped immediately. Startled, Shay retrieved it.
From Cosima [6:18]: No probs. I figured you were asleep.
To Cosima [6:19]: ur up already?
From Cosima [6:19]: Still up.
To Cosima: [6:19]: u didn't sleep? everything ok?
From Cosima [6:20]: Yeah. Just some drama.
From Cosima [6:20]: I guess it got me a little down. But it's OK now.
To Cosima [6:21]: U sure?
That Cosima might have spent the whole night up signaled that she might have been more than a "little down." Shay reviewed her schedule.
To Cosima [6:22]: I don't have to be at work until 10 today. Do u want to come down in like 20 minutes for tea?
From Cosima [6:23]: That sounds cool.
Typically Shay started her weekday mornings with yoga and meditation, sometimes a short run, before breakfast and a shower. Routine, she found, helped anchor days and move them along manageable tracks, especially on days where time seemed to stand still or slip away. A deviation of this nature intruded few and far between, but Shay was washed up, dressed, lightly dusted for presentation, and had the kettle on the stove when the knock, a touch timid, landed on her door.
Cosima looked exhausted, even though her makeup was just about perfect, winged eyeliner as expertly applied as Shay had ever seen it. The weariness resided more in her posture, an impression that she was holding herself apart, the bowed slump of her shoulders curling her shawl close about her person.
"Hey," Shay greeted her softly, as if raising her voice might strike cracks in her visitor.
"Hey," Cosima echoed, throwing out one of her little waves. "Sorry to barge in like this."
Shay ushered Cosima inside. "You're not barging in, I invited you."
She installed Cosima at her skinny dining table. "I don't have anything exciting by way of breakfast foods except cereal or fruit if you're hungry."
Cosima glanced at the tiered fruit basket on the counter, currently displaying bananas, apples, oranges, and avocados. She smiled. "No, thanks, I'm not that hungry."
The kettle whistled and Shay turned off the stovetop while moving the kettle to sit on a cold coil. "Is green tea okay? Or do you want something stronger, like a black? I have English and Irish Breakfast. Or would you rather not have any caffeine at all? I have rooibos and herbals."
Cosima's smile jerked into a grin of amusement. "I like green."
With the water cooling down from boiling, Shay took her time to measure out three teaspoons of Dragon Well loose leaf into the teapot she'd laid out on a tray with two small, matching cups. She gave the water a little more time to lose heat, then poured it over the leaves in the basket. The whole arrangement was delivered to the table, where Shay discovered Cosima sitting with one foot pulled up and tucked beneath her, casual and comfortable as could be. Cosima turned one of the cups between her fingers, smiling. Within a minute Shay served two portions and fished out the basket of unfurled leaves from the water remaining in the pot.
Settled next to Cosima, hostess duties complete, Shay pressed her fingertips lightly against the teacup to absorb the warmth and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Cosima shook her head, not necessarily in a motion of denial, but with a rueful air. "There's nothing much to talk about, really. My . . . my family got wind of a secret and all hell broke loose. Like I mentioned: drama."
"It kept you up," Shay observed gently. "Was it your secret? Or one you were helping to keep?"
Cosima looked into the clear, light golden liquid in her cup. "Something like that. Any way you slice it, I got caught in the middle."
Shay cupped her chin in a hand and propped herself up on the tabletop. "Did everyone find out you're gay?"
Cosima laughed, seemingly delighted by the notion. "I couldn't hide that if I tried--and I didn't. That's old news; everyone knows." Cosima shook her head. "No, dude, it wasn't that." She sighed, tipping her cup carefully forward and back to swirl the liquid but not jostle it. "It was more like . . . knowledge kept on the downlow because it might upset some people. It got out and now everyone's worried."
Shay tipped her head. "You knew?"
Cosima nodded. "And people are kind of upset I didn't let them know what was up. We . . . sort of got into it."
"But you couldn't tell them before?" Shay asked.
Cosima breathed in deeply and released it in a sigh. "It's a problem and there's no solution yet, so I didn't see a point in mentioning it when the only outcome would have been to make people worry. Everyone's already dealing with a lot of problems, so I didn't want to add to everyone's stress. Not without, you know, having some kind of silver lining to offer."
"Is it a problem that affects everyone in your family?" Shay wondered.
"No," Cosima said. "Not yet. It could, I guess, but not yet." Cosima cleared her throat. "I guess . . . it made me feel shitty."
"What did? Hiding it?" Shay sipped the tea. It was a little under-steeped.
Cosima did a little double-take, the slightest jerk of her head. "Just . . . the whole situation. And having to talk about it. I didn't realize it was going to be such a big deal. I mean, I knew it was a big thing. I just wasn't . . . prepared. I didn't see the confrontation coming, which I realize now was stupid. And then to get that type of reaction--there were a lot of questions and I didn't have any answers." Cosima exhaled sharply through her nose. "I don't know why it got me to me. It's not like I haven't been trying to find answers. You know? But I need time." Cosima paused. "I thought I would have more time."
Shay studied Cosima. "You must be exhausted. I think the first step now is to get some sleep. With some rest you'll be more clear-headed and you can give the problem another look."
Cosima nodded slowly. She took a sip of tea, then squinted at her cup.
"It needed to steep longer," Shay said, acknowledging the problem.
Cosima chuckled. "Thought it was maybe my tastebuds going." She drank a little more. "You're probably right. I should get into work but I'm not going to be much good if I'm a zombie."
"Just let Delphine know," Shay murmured.
Cosima gave her a sharp look. "Why, you think she'll be upset?"
Shay shook her head. "No. I just don't see any reason to worry her."
Cosima nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, I guess I've done enough worrying people for one twenty-four-hour period."
Shay rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."
Cosima smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah, you did. But that's okay."
"You're incorrigible," declared Shay. "I'm sending you up to bed before you get sillier."
They walked to the door, where Shay held it opened and Cosima, head bowed in thought, made to step out. As Cosima crossed the threshold, Shay grasped her elbow. Cosima turned and lifted her head quizzically.
"Do you want a hug?" Shay asked softly.
Surprise and astonishment widened Cosima's eyes. "You offering?"
Shay spread her arms.
Cosima stared at her, on the verge of a baffled smile. Then there was the slightest slump in her shoulders and, wordlessly, Cosima stepped into Shay, one arm winding around her back to hold her loosely. Shay enfolded Cosima more securely and patted her back reassuringly.
"It'll be okay," Shay said softly, tightening her hold.
Chin upon Shay's shoulder, Cosima nodded. For a tick, Cosima squeezed back. Then she stepped away, a little bashful. Shay wished her a good night.
Cosima smirked. "You have a good day."
With one last little goodbye wave, Cosima went on her way. Shay lingered in the doorway, then closed it softly on the sight of Cosima's retreating back.
*
The message arrived before Delphine managed to get out of the door of her apartment.
From Cosima [07:07]: Going to come in late. Maybe in the afternoon.
Delphine's gut clenched in concern. Was Cosima feeling unwell? Was her body rejecting the stem cells? They'd be back to square one, step one, with less time on the clock to muster a new plan of approach.
To Cosima [07:07]: Are you okay? Are you in pain? Are you feeling sick?
From Cosima [07:08]: I'm fine. No pain. No irritation. Had a late night, so I'm going to catch up on sleep.
From Cosima [07:09]: I told you I'm a night owl. Don't sweat it.
Cosima's message was straightforward and, though a feeling of unease twisted about her middle, Delphine saw no reason that Cosima would lie--any spite or animosity she felt for Delphine wouldn't extend that far. (Right?) Delphine sent her a simple "OK" in acknowledgement and went into the DYAD according to her usual schedule. As she flashed her identification badge at the entrance, the security guard hailed her.
Aldous required her presence.
Delphine repressed a frown. Cosima's tardiness was just as well.
Aldous smiled tightly at Delphine when she stepped into his office and gestured to one of the chairs.
"Good morning, Delphine."
"Hello, Aldous," Delphine replied, sinking into a seat. On an impulse, she ventured, "How was the beer?"
Aldous smiled tightly. "Not to my tastes."
Which, Delphine had to admire, was an acceptable answer that provided nothing substantive--not whether he'd heeded Cosima's invitation or if anything transpired in the event that he had--but, if questioned by her, would draw suspicion.
He regarded her. "Perhaps you have more insight into this than I do."
Delphine put her confusion on open display. "The last I saw of Cosima was here, yesterday, before she went home."
"Home," Aldous repeated, tasting the word. "That's right. A bit of an unusual choice of residence, don't you think? Its location is not that convenient. Did you help her find it?"
Delphine shook her head. "No. Cosima found it on her own. I told her HR could help her find accommodations, but it seems she didn't solicit their help."
"I wonder why she chose that location, then," Aldous wondered aloud idly.
Delphine lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, lips pursing with uncertainty. "For the style, perhaps? She is a bit . . . eccentric."
Aldous's eyes sharpened on her face. "Is that so? What do you think of her, now that you've gotten to know her better?"
Delphine pressed two fingers to her lips. "She's intelligent, curious, and knowledgeable--across a wide range of topics. But guarded." Delphine shook her head. "She doesn't trust me, Aldous."
Aldous's eyes narrowed on her in heightened scrutiny. Delphine's gut clenched. For one cold-sweat-triggering moment she thought he would give the order--go be a monitor. To the fullest. She knew what it would entail, but she didn't know if--she heard Cosima scoffing at her--she could--if she would--
But Aldous merely hummed in his throat.
"For the time being her health remains the top priority. But that doesn't mean you should slacken your vigilance."
Delphine swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat and nodded.
"There's a matter I wanted to run by you. Cosima mentioned that she could use a sequencing tech." He scooped up a folder at hand, like the other countless nondescript manila folders that had become ubiquitous in their dealings. "If you recall, any incoming personnel is subject to our approval."
Delphine heard the "our" and at first thought it a generous allowance that Aldous enfolded her into the decision-making process. Upon further reflection she could see that it was a binding, segregating word choice--she and Aldous and DYAD together arrayed against the uncircumscribed: Cosima and the other subjects.
Delphine ran her eye over the résumé. "This . . . Scott Smith isn't from DYAD? In fact, he's still completing his doct-" Delphine lifted her head. "--University of Minnesota."
Aldous unveiled an impenetrable smile.
"The same university that Cosima attended?" Delphine asked, posing it more as a question than a statement. She wasn't versed in all the names of the individual states of the United States of America and there was a chance she was confusing any number of them. (She had no idea where Minnesota even was on a map.) But the light in Aldous's eyes lent confirmation. "Do they know each other?"
Aldous folded his hands, placed his elbows upon his desktop, and leaned forward. "When Cosima began to conduct research into her biology, she had to use the resources available to her. There's reason to believe that she enlisted Mr. Smith to help her."
Delphine cocked an eyebrow. "So he knows?"
"All our probes suggest that she didn't inform him as to the nature of her tests."
"Have you . . . vetted him?" Delphine asked carefully.
"Not in the manner you're thinking. He applied to us of his own volition independently. He actually has a letter of recommendation from his dean." A small laugh issued from Aldous. "It's not bad. His grades are good. He seems capable."
Delphine frowned. "But bringing him in would be introducing a foreign element, a--a foreign agent. One you cannot be sure can be trusted. If he is to work closely with Cosima and myself, he would be exposed to very sensitive information. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"
"Better to ask if that's a risk he's willing to take," Aldous said serenely. "It's a position you should understand well. If he wants what's behind the closed door, he's going to have to take the plunge."
"But he'd be exposed to . . . everything," Delphine breathed.
"That, I suspect, will rather depend on Cosima."
Delphine sat back in her chair. After a moment, she nodded slowly. "You think Cosima will try to shield him from the entire truth. Bringing in someone among the DYAD personnel might encourage her to be wary of trusting, as she is with me." She studied Aldous flatly. "And, perhaps, if she takes him into her confidence, and if she won't be friends with me, perhaps she has a friendship with him." Her brow furrowed. "But . . . what evidence is there that he would cooperate with you in any event?"
As she wove her thoughts, Aldous broke into a slow smile. It was almost . . . warm.
"Well?" Delphine pressed, checking a desire to fidget.
"You're getting there," intoned Aldous. Getting where? What did he mean by that? Aldous gave her no time to gather the will to ask. He pointed at the folder in her hands without unlacing his fingers. "What's your input?"
Delphine laid the file flat upon her lap and pressed her palms down upon the top of it. "I would urge you to hire on a criteria of skill and less, perhaps, based on his connections. We could use a good sequencing tech. But I don't know how Cosima will react to seeing a former colleague. She harbors a lot of animosity toward her previous monitor. If she suspects you've done the same to someone else she knows . . ." Delphine shook her head. "I don't know."
"But where would she go?" Aldous pointed out. "It may be that what she needs now is a friendly face."
"It's ultimately your decision," Delphine said. She placed the folder atop his desk. "Of course, you could always ask Cosima for her opinion."
"Perhaps she can have the final say," Aldous declared ambiguously.
Precisely what he meant by that, Aldous didn't bother to elaborate.
*
Cosima's absence in the lab always suspended Delphine in a strange sort of limbo. It wasn't that Cosima directed Delphine in her work or that without Cosima work couldn't be done. At times it felt like there was a mountain of work always casting a shadow over their efforts. Reams of data poured in from different sectors that potentially contained material bearing on their search, but which had to be reviewed and evaluated each in turn. No, Delphine's unease had little to do with completing work, with or without Cosima. But with Cosima out of sight--but not out of mind--an anxious anticipation set in the longer Delphine remained solitary, an expectation that at any moment Cosima would join her.
Delphine couldn't relax.
Ostensibly, yes, she was Cosima's supervisor, monitor, physician, all positions that should have inferred a modicum of confidence and authority, but when she was alone like this, Delphine felt the magnitude of the mental preparation she underwent to spend time with her subordinate, subject, patient. With Jennifer, Delphine had had the screen of professional distance. If they chatted in a friendly manner, Jennifer respected her always in her capacity as a physician. With Cosima it was a fight to ward off or diffuse the other woman's attempts to make everything personal. Cosima came with no warnings. Delphine had no inkling what the angle of attack would be, or when the shoe would drop, only the surety that confrontation was bound to occur at some point or another. She knew Cosima was watching, waiting.
It was exhausting.
But only in these moments of calm did Delphine realize to what extent.
Delphine was aware of the irony.
The solitude did offer privacy. Out of idle curiosity and still mulling on her morning meet with Aldous, Delphine made a search for Bobby's. The first result was a local cafe and bar that hosted live, mostly indie, talent. Delphine didn't have much knowledge of Toronto's geographical makeup to make much of the location. Pictures of the interior made her smile to imagine Aldous being forced to patronize such an establishment, but she could easily imagine Cosima at the bar. She tried substituting Jennifer and Greg in the setting and had a harder time of it, but not impossible. For that matter, Shay wasn't a difficult fit, either; Bobby's appeared to be akin to the casual spots they used to frequent in the early days of their friendship. Delphine almost wished she and Shay had discovered it themselves.
She couldn't bring Shay there now.
While she was performing searches, Delphine tried running Scott Smith through Google, which was shortsighted. Narrowing it down to any Scott Smith of the University of Minnesota was of little help. A handful of candidates popped up. Without more to go on, Delphine abandoned the endeavor.
Cosima Niehaus proved a much more unique inquiry. Delphine wasn't sure what she had expected, but presented with results, she hesitated. She wasn't sure why. The Internet was a public space. Anything Delphine stumbled upon was, technically, open game. With the amount of knowledge Cosima had aired on DYAD's operations and history, Delphine assumed Cosima had run "Delphine Cormier" through the bot crawlers.
Delphine paused. She opened another tab and ran her own name through Google. Results associating her with DYAD were first and prominent. There were hits on French sites, passing mentions of her in university publications or notices of academic awards, an abstract of a study to which she had contributed. There was even a picture of her and other interns posing eager and sunny with Aldous featured proudly on the DYAD website in the portion highlighting career opportunities.
Nothing new or surprising there.
Closing the tab returned her to Cosima's. Delphine contemplated the array of blue unvisited links. After a moment, she closed that tab as well.
Maybe Cosima was waging a war, but Delphine wasn't. Not against Cosima. Not against DYAD.
Delphine was fighting a disease.
She got back to work.
*
At around three in the afternoon Cosima strolled into the lab. It was, Delphine supposed, more or less the time Cosima said she would arrive, as far as "afternoon" could be blanketed over the block of hours following noon, but a part of Delphine felt irked Cosima hadn't bothered to send any sort of update over the course of the day, not even a quick missive to say she was heading in. Not that Delphine would have waited beyond the time she usually left the lab--but she would have informed Cosima of the fact.
Delphine knew on some rational level that her exasperation, such as it were, didn't derive from a sense of being snubbed by Cosima. Rather she found it difficult to understand how the intradermal test incubating in Cosima's skin hadn't impressed upon Cosima the same sense of urgency and impatience that it did in Delphine. Perhaps for Cosima literally carrying the answer in her arm and being able to gauge the results with a quick look and self-assessment dampened the mystery.
Cosima must have read the restlessness on Delphine's face because she didn't waste any time shedding bags, scarf, and coat upon the couch to brandish her arm as if she were displaying an additional tattoo. "Have a look."
Cosima confirmed she felt no fever, no pain, no discomfort. The injection site displayed no signs of irritation, no redness, no inflammation, barely an aberration to mark its spot. It was encouraging. A burst of relief and exaltation flooded Delphine. This was the first promising sign she'd seen in months.
She had to dare herself to believe it.
Cosima didn't share the sentiment, at least not to the degree it manifested in Delphine. Where Delphine couldn't suppress a smile, Cosima was subdued, gauging Delphine's reaction, as if trying to glean what her own reaction should be.
Smile fading, Delphine said to her reserved patient, "This is looking like good news. It'll only take a short time for an analysis of your blood to confirm compatibility."
Cosima nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know."
As she tied off Cosima's bicep, Delphine raked Cosima's face for clues. "Are you apprehensive about the actual treatment?"
Cosima smirked. "No, not really. I'm willing to try anything, even pumping the dental pulp of baby teeth into invasive and unmentionable places. I mean, we've already conducted the unsexiest gynecological exam possible, how much worse can it get?"
"I thought you would be a little more . . . excited," Delphine hazarded, swabbing a patch of Cosima's skin with alcohol.
Cosima surveyed Delphine's face surreptitiously. "I am. I mean, I get that finding a match was basically a minor miracle, given the chances are like a million to one."
Delphine arched an eyebrow at "minor miracle," even as she slid the needle into Cosima's arm. Cosima hissed. Jennifer had reacted the same way most times. Was there something indelicate and clumsy about Delphine's technique?
Delphine shook her head, both at Cosima's comment and her apparent "skill" at drawing blood. "We've been searching our databases for a match for months. It may be that our persistence is finally paying off." She glanced into Cosima's face. "Perfect timing for you."
Cosima was quiet for a beat. "I mean it when I say that I wish you had found it sooner."
Delphine swapped the filled vial with an empty one. She kept her eyes on her task, perhaps to mask the flight of her thoughts to Jennifer. "As do I. But it could have taken longer, as well. So, you see, perfect timing."
Cosima sighed. "Maybe."
Delphine risked a frown in her direction. "What is it?"
Cosima shrugged her unclaimed arm. "There's a lot riding on this."
"Your life," Delphine breathed. "Yes, I know."
Cosima shook her head, as if Delphine had missed her meaning, and glanced away at the nearby computer monitor. Delphine waited for her to explain, but nothing further followed. Instead Cosima asked, "How come you didn't go into practicing medicine? You went through all the trouble of getting a medical degree."
"I considered it," Delphine admitted. "But then the DYAD entered the picture. I thought I would be able to . . . accomplish more with them."
"What, like you knew about the human cloning trials even then?"
Delphine shook her head as she drew the final vial. "I knew I wanted to research, but competition for spots at reputable hospitals is very high. Going that route would have taken me much longer to build a reputation and to find funding for anything I might have wanted to pursue, not to mention that I would have to fit in research alongside rotations. With the DYAD, I could focus on research and funding would be less of an issue. They're also able to move trials through various stages much more quickly and efficiently. Their ties with governments are very good and, since they are a multinational, the fields of research are much . . . broader."
"Right," Cosima said slowly. "I assume that line of thinking was from back when you thought they followed laws."
Delphine smiled tightly and pressed a cotton ball to the crook of Cosima's arm. Reaching up to hold it in place herself as Delphine undid the tie around her bicep, Cosima cocked her head and asked, "Or did whether or not they followed laws never matter to you? I mean, it is a tenet of Neolutionism that self-modification is a human right--and, by the logic that human rights are inalienable, governments shouldn't be able to deny or withhold them."
Delphine raised her eyes to meet Cosima's penetrating gaze. "Maybe I didn't care."
Cosima's gaze narrowed. "DIdn't? But now you do?"
Delphine pivoted and backed up to grip and lean against the edge of the adjacent desktop, inhaled deeply, and released a long breath. "If you ask me why they pursue this or that line of inquiry, I can see the reasons, even if the only driving motivation is proof of concept." She gazed off toward the far side of the room. "I can't say I wouldn't do the same. Theory remains theory outside of the practical and provable. In medicine particularly. Even a cure for you is predicated on attempting something, because to do nothing only ensures one thing."
"My death, yeah," Cosima provided blandly. "No need for euphemisms, Dr. Cormier. Though consider your attempt at bedside manner acknowledged."
Delphine attempted a smile that blinked into existence for but a second. "The DYAD is about opportunities. It's what I saw. It's what I took. It wasn't a forfeiture of my medical experience, but a redirection of it. I wanted to do medicine." Delphine nodded to herself. "I am doing medicine."
Cosima regarded Delphine. "Have you ever seen the entire genome--not the original, obvs, but one of ours?"
Delphine checked a laugh. "Any genome . . . makes for quite a long read."
Cosima smirked. "You know, when Leekie first made me an offer to work with DYAD--after we stopped pretending he didn't know anything and I didn't know anything--he gave me my entire genome. In fact, I have it with me." With her chin she indicated her bag.
Delphine followed her line of sight but returned her attention to Cosima with puzzlement. "Okay?"
"Here's the thing," Cosima said, "he claims it contains my entire genome, but it's missing a piece."
Delphine's brow contracted. "What do you mean?"
Cosima flexed her arm, lifted the cotton ball to check the clotting, then pressed it back into place. "We knew about Katja being sick. She was trying to get to us because she needed a doctor. So I had her and my DNA analyzed for any genetic markers of various diseases. At the same time, I had it sequenced for Cytochrome C. What came out was an anomaly and, within that, two differing sequences between my genome and Katja's. You follow?"
"Yes," Delphine said cautiously, "but I don't know where you're going."
"That piece was missing from the genome that Leekie gave me." Cosima leveled Delphine with earnest somberness. "He didn't want me to see it."
"So . . . that's why you don't trust him?" Delphine wondered. "Because you know he withheld information from you?"
Cosima broke into a vicious, toothy grin. "Oh, I didn't trust him from the beginning. You can't trust a man who's been spying on you your whole life." Cosima checked the cotton ball and then tossed it into the bin. "No, what I'm getting at is that even though the sequence bothered me at the time, I didn't have any way to go at it. Then everything happened so fast that--anyway, I started thinking about it again."
Delphine, following Cosima's logic but unsure where she herself entered the picture, said, "Yes?"
"The numbers they use to identify us," Cosima said slowly, "the ones on our files--"
Delphine nodded. "The tag numbers."
"Right, tags. Like you'd put on cattle."
"To differentiate you, yes."
"But we weren't cattle and they couldn't just tattoo us, so they encoded it in our DNA. That's the difference between my DNA and Katja's."
Delphine crossed her arms and nodded.
"But what's the rest of the sequence?" Cosima wondered. "Something Leekie didn't want me to see. Something that can be decrypted." Cosima licked her lips. "You want to help me find out what?"
They studied one another.
"You're asking me to help you?" Delphine asked softly.
"Yes," Cosima intoned, "I'm asking you, my monitor, to help me crack the code in a sequence of my DNA that was kept hidden from me."
"Why?" Delphine asked softly.
Cosima shrugged dismissively. "For science. To satisfy your curiosity. For the truth." Cosima threw up a hand. "Whatever floats your boat, Delphine."
"Even though I am your monitor," Delphine said, to put it on the table between them.
"You can say no," Cosima pointed out.
Delphine frowned. "You want to do this right now?"
"I think you should send those off to the lab first, but, yeah, why not? We're going to be waiting on the results, anyway." Cosima cocked her head. "So?"
Cosima had crafted a trial to rival any one of Aldous's loyalty tests. But she'd said to go with whatever reason Delphine preferred.
Delphine had questions, too.
*
The moment "324B21" spilled across the screen after what felt like increasingly complicated and senseless suggestions sent a thrill down Delphine's spine.
The code was, like much else about the design of the project, straightforwardly simple. Even Cosima's casual, but substantial knowledge of encryptions and ciphers was more impressive than the actual key to the protein mystery.
But like the other parts of the project, the simplicity and obviousness in hindsight lent a breathtaking elegance.
Binary. Of course.
Zeros and ones.
Adenine-thymine. Cytosine-guanine.
Pure luck and arbitrary supposition landed them the correct correspondence of CG to zero and AT to one. Delphine wasn't sure they would have tried switching the two had gibberish spilled out using the reverse correlation.
"You cracked it," Delphine said, a little awed, not least because she felt transported back to the hot seat of Aldous's remonstrations: Think forward to address the hurdle, not backward trying to unravel the solution. Cosima had stumbled into the mode of thought with the ease of a fish slipping into water. Delphine sat momentarily trapped in the circuitous thought of the creation emulating a creator in the same way mankind strove to divine the purpose of gods and unseen forces--only the powers at work here were all too human and limited themselves.
The next task was far more tedious. The entire synthetic sequence was robust.
Delphine held the printout of the synthetic sequence and looked to Cosima. "Ready? Don't get confused."
Cosima smirked. "Don't lose your place."
Delphine rolled her eyes, but she tracked her progress with the tip of her thumb.
01010100010010000100100101010011010111110100111101010010010001110100000101001110010010010101001101001101010111110100000101001110010001000101111101000100010001010101001001001001010101100100000101010100010010010101011001000101010111110100011101000101010011100100010101010100010010010100001101011111010011010100000101010100010001010101001001001001010000010100110001011111010010010101001101011111010100100100010101010011010101000101001001001001010000110101010001000101010001000101111101001001010011100101010001000101010011000100110001000101010000110101010001010101010000010100110001011111010100000101001001001111010100000100010101010010010101000101100101011111010101010101001100110001001100110011001100110100001101010011010100110100001101000011001000110010001100110011001101010101010100110011100100110000001101000011000000110011001100100011010000111001001110000011001101000011001100010011001001001110001100010011010100110010001100010100001100110001001100100100111000110001001100100011010101000011001100010011001001001110001100100011001101000011001100010011001001010000001100010011100100110011001101000100010000110000001110010011000100110000001110000011001000110100010101000100000101000111001100110011001000110100010000100011001000110001
They stared at the block of numbers sitting in the translator.
"Dude," Cosima said, "I hope we got that right."
"We can double check it," Delphine said, feebly.
"Honest question," Cosima said with a sideways glance, "would you go through that whole thing again and recheck each element?"
"I would," replied Delphine, "to ensure--"
Cosima clicked the convert button.
Legible, comprehensible text began to scroll onto a new line. Delphine felt a moment's relief. Then the substance of the words struck home.
THIS_ORGANISM_AND_DERIVATIVE_GENETIC_MATERIAL_IS_RESTRICTED_INTELLECTUAL_PROPERTY_US133455442233US9040324983C12N1521C12N125C12N23C12P1934D0910824TAG324B21
They both stared at the screen in silence.
Cosima spoke first. "The crazy thing is . . . I didn't expect that."
Delphine covered her mouth with a hand. She hadn't either.
"They patented us," Cosima said in a gasp of disbelief. "They patented us. Every single one of us." She shook her head. "I thought, yeah, for sure the cloning technique would be proprietary, but . . . ." She trailed off, then, with heat, "Is this even legal? How can you own--"
But she didn't finish the thought. Delphine understood why. A person, a human being, Cosima might have said, but for the first time the question of her status as such confronted them. In the legal sense.
Cosima looked to Delphine, as if for confirmation or negation or something, but Delphine could only shake her head.
She hadn't known.
She didn't know.
Cosima's jaw worked.
"You know what," Cosima spat, that familiar anger rising to smolder beneath the surface, "I'm not gonna think about it right now." She stood up and gathered up the external hard drive and her phone with jerky impatience. "It doesn't even matter. If we all get sick and die, it doesn't mean anything."
Delphine sat helplessly devoid of encouraging words. She wanted to say something to soothe the whirl of betrayal and resentment scurrying around the lab.
"We have the stem cell line now," Delphine offered weakly.
Cosima whirled. "DYAD's stem cell line. They probably patented that, too. If Leekie wants to dangle that out of reach on top of everything else, he can." She was breathing heavily. "And let's say it works. Then what? I take DYAD to court? Yeah, that'll go over well."
"First things still first," Delphine said, steadily, "we get you well again. Then we can figure out the next step."
Cosima arched an eyebrow. "'We'?"
Delphine moistened her lips. "You." She met Cosima's eyes steadily. "You can fight them, if that's what you wish, but you need to give yourself the chance, first."
"And if we can't?" retorted Cosima. "Is someone going to fight for us?"
Cosima waited. Delphine let her question hang suspended and untouched.
Cosima smirked halfheartedly and shrugged into her coat. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Do you need a ride home?" Delphine asked as Cosima made for the door.
Cosima threw up a hand in refusal and farewell. Then she was gone and Delphine was alone with the decrypted message on the monitor and the myriad answers she might have given.
*
Shay wondered if there was a point at which an unexplained knock on her door wouldn't startle, momentarily frighten, then all around puzzle (and sometimes irritate) her. Shay wasn't altogether sure she wanted to find out, but lately forces seemed determined to escort her to the brink of discovery. The culprit on the other side of the door this evening presented itself as a wine bottle brandished by a grinning upstairs neighbor.
"Whites, right?" Cosima said by way of very cheery, non-explanatory greeting.
A lengthy beat past before Shay found her voice. "What's going on?"
Cosima tipped the bottle left, right, left, as if it were bobbing its corked neck in consideration. "Sorry about this morning, but thanks for humoring a sleep-deprived nerd?"
Shay shook her head but couldn't help an uncertain smile. "I was up. You came down for like ten minutes. It was hardly any trouble."
"It was first thing in the morning and you didn't have to invite me down at all," Cosima clarified. She thrust the offering forward. "Take the bottle of wine, Shay."
Shay took the wine, partly suspicious that Cosima would remain standing there all night otherwise. The label declared the variety a Riesling. It would fit right in among the bottles gathering upon the kitchen shelf. Shay smothered a laugh at the mental picture of her burgeoning provisions.
Cosima, watching her closely, pinged her reaction. "Is it okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Shay said quickly in reassurance. "Yeah, of course. Thank you. I was just thinking that between you and Delphine, I'm going to have to get a wine cabinet."
Cosima raised an eyebrow. "Is Delphine in the habit of liquoring you up?"
Shay laughed. "No. She's in the habit of bringing over wine if she drops by."
"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts," Cosima murmured.
Shay cocked an eyebrow at her. "Then should I be wary right now?"
Cosima grinned, an expression on her that was far too mischievous to alleviate any undue suspicions.
Shay gave her an admonishing half-smile. "The Greeks were trying to get behind the walls of Troy. You don't need to deceive your way into my place."
"No?" Cosima asked, head tilting, like a dog shooting an inquiry at a befuddling bipedal.
Shay waited a beat, knowing she'd walked into her next words. "Do you wanna come in?"
Cosima swayed on the balls of her feet. "Only if it's not any trouble."
Shay held up the Trojan horse rent in shapely green glass. "Should I open it? Do you want some? I've got a few reds, if you'd prefer that instead."
"Open this one," Cosima said. Shay stepped aside to allow Cosima access. "So you don't have to add it to your collection."
Shay recoiled at the suggestion. "Are you offering to finish the bottle? Because I drink in moderation."
"Oh, yeah?" Cosima asked, giving the studio a thorough, indiscreet once over. "Delphine hasn't figured that out yet?"
"Actually," Shay said, "I think she finally did a little while ago."
"Damn," Cosima muttered.
Shay, fishing in a drawer for the corkscrew, shot her a questioning look across the island. "What?"
"I was hoping you'd say no so I could use her ignorance to justify my own behavior."
Shay laughed, albeit with a confused air. "Justify what kind of behavior?"
Cosima shrugged nonchalantly.
Shay studied her with wariness, because that kind of answer might not bode well. There was a slump to Cosima's posture, which might indicate listlessness or just poor posture (a trait that had been forced out of Shay, only for her to reject the correction, though now she automatically gauged it in others), but she swayed from foot to foot with an energy that was almost nervous. Shay didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps Cosima felt uncertain where to situate herself. Donning the role of hostess, Shay directed Cosima toward the chairs. "Do you want to have a seat? I'll be over in a second."
Cosima took her time making her way over to the lounging options. She'd been in Shay's apartment before, but Shay realized those had been stints of short duration. This was the first time Cosima was taking in the space unrestricted and unhurried. She brushed a hand along the back of the couch as she crossed behind along its length, then circled around to lower herself on the far end.
The cork came out with a satisfying, muted pop.
"Why white?" Cosima called over to her, though her eyes wandered over other sectors of the space.
"What do you mean?" Shay asked. With the wine breathing, Shay checked the fridge for anything that might go with it.
"The common wisdom is that red wines confer more health benefits."
Shay smiled to herself. There was a sizeable wedge of brie among the cheeses, so Shay plopped it on a serving plate and plucked an apple from the fruit basket. "Maybe that's because the possible benefits of white wine aren't as well studied. White wine may have its own undiscovered perks."
The sound of water running into the sink as Shay rinsed the apple arrested Cosima's attention, and under her guest's curious eyes Shay sliced the apple into commendably thin, if not equally sized, portions. After a moment, Cosima smiled. "So, if the health benefits remain undiscovered, that's not the reason you drink white instead."
Shay smiled to herself as she transferred slices of apple from cutting board to plate, along with a cheese knife. "I can't just prefer the taste?"
"That's what I was wondering," Cosima said.
Shay tipped wine into glasses and let them sit while she bore the plate over. "I try to eat healthy, yes, but I don't cut out enjoyment. I find whites go better with the fruits and cheeses I like to eat. Besides, the less to stress out about, the better. Life's too short."
Cosima's mouth twitched. "Yeah, it is." Cosima considered the plate. "Do you always do this?"
"I try to," Shay declared as she returned on her second trip with wine glasses, deflecting any shame or judgment being cast in her direction. She held out a glass to Cosima, who took it and promptly curled up on the couch, her shoes already sitting shod on the floor. Shay settled into the single seater. "I had a Korean friend whose mom always put out these fruit spreads whenever they had guests over. Everything was skinned and sliced. I loved it."
"Huh," Cosima said. "I had an Asian girlfriend, but she never did anything like that. Then again, she was a punk rocker."
"You dated an Asian punk rocker?" Shay asked, on the verge of exclamation.
"What, you haven't?" Cosima fired back.
Shay laughed. "Can't say I have. I haven't been that . . . fortunate? Is this a California thing?"
Cosima shrugged. "We California girls aren't half bad."
Shay arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Cosima paused, a brief cloud of uncertainty shadowing her features.
"What?" Shay prompted.
Cosima shook her head, turning to her left. "Why don't I have a bathtub in the living room of my unit?"
Shay laughed. "You're unfortunate."
Cosima studied her out of the corner of her eye. "Did you install it?"
"Oh, jeeze, no," Shay said. "I found the place with it already there."
Cosima twisted further in her seat. "Did you find your bed on a wooden palette, too?"
"Hey, that took careful construction," Shay asserted, playfully affronted.
"Yeah?" Cosima asked. "Did you do it yourself? Banged it together with wood shop skills?"
"What if I did?" challenged Shay.
Cosima turned to her, grinning. "Such a lesbian."
"Takes one to know one," Shay countered, sipping at the wine.
Cosima grinned stretched just a bit wider.
Shay picked up a slice of apple and savored the clean crunch. She licked her lips and asked softly, "Feeling better?"
Cosima nodded slowly, cradling her glass of wine close. "Yeah. Maybe. Today was glass mostly empty, glass half empty, glass maybe half full . . ." Her eyes passed fleetingly over Shay's face. "Hoping it can settle on the full side now." Her gaze sharpened on a point beyond Shay. "All my plants got left behind."
Shay's features pinched in an almost frown. "Why?"
Cosima shrugged. "No idea. I guess the movers didn't want to bother. Maybe they thought the pots would be too fragile bouncing around in the back of the trailer or maybe they didn't want to risk spilling soil everywhere. Although . . . the little succulents I had could be in one of the boxes, but I haven't stumbled on any."
Shay glanced at one of the smaller pots. "Do you want one of these guys to keep you company?"
"Do they keep you company?" Cosima asked.
Shay smiled down at the floor, a little sheepish at having her word choice turned on her. "In the best possible way. They don't take up any oxygen and they're as eager to soak up sunlight as I am."
"Aw, dude," moaned Cosima, "that's like the exact opposite of everything I am. So does that make me akin to the worst company?"
"I don't know yet, it's too soon to say," Shay teased lightly. She set her wine glass aside carefully upon the floor. Straightening up, she leaned upon the armrest. "Are you always this silly?"
"What are you talking about?" Cosima snatched up a slice of apple and waved it belligerently. "I'm brilliant."
Shay nodded solemnly. "I don't doubt that." She smirked. "But it doesn't mean you can't be silly."
"What's wrong with being silly?" Cosima asked.
"There's nothing wrong with being silly."
Cosima grinned. "Okay, then, yes, I'm silly."
Shay's brow dimpled. "What if I'd said there was something wrong with being silly?"
Cosima went stone-faced. "Then I would never be caught dead being silly."
Shay shook her head, smiling. "Is this the sleep deprivation talking?"
"Dude, sleep deprivation doesn't talk," Cosima corrected, putting on an air of professorial seriousness. "At best it sort of mumbles and slurs, sometimes trails off mid-thought."
Shay's smile deepened. "You're silly."
Cosima bit at her lower lip, then broke eye contact to glance around the room. "Quick question."
"What's up?"
"A beautiful woman isn't going to walk through the door any second and chastise me, right?"
For one fleeting, erroneous second, Shay imagined Delphine striding in. But Shay recovered in the next moment with a wry smile. "Chastise you for what?"
Cosima took a second to choose her words. "For monopolizing your time."
Shay shook her head slowly. "No. No one like that's going to show up." She twitched an eyebrow at Cosima. "What about you?"
One side of Cosima's mouth pulled up to reveal a sharp canine. "Dude, long distance never works."
Shay felt a sympathetic smile touch her lips. "You left someone behind in Minnesota?"
Cosima's lips stretched into a toothy grin. "Minnesota? No, dude, try Berkeley."
*
Just beyond the door, as Shay was seeing her out, Cosima stopped and turned, head hung so that she looked at Shay from an oblique angle. "Hey."
Shay smiled in question.
"Could you--do you think I could have another one of those hugs?"
Shay's smile relaxed. "Yeah, sure. C'mere."
She crossed to Cosima, whose arms went about her with a tick of hesitation, almost shyness. Shay felt no such compunctions. Her arms closed on Cosima like a bear trap, until Cosima eased into her hold.
Shay felt the cough reverberate through Cosima's frame.
She loosened her hold and Cosima took that as a sign to separate, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.
"You okay?" Shay asked.
Cosima nodded, close-mouthed, a bashful smile trying to fight for control of her lips. When the cough settled, she cleared her throat and said, a bit gravelly, "Yeah. Sorry." She stood looking a moment at Shay. She smiled. "Thanks."
"No problem," Shay said.
Cosima's eyes skimmed across Shay's. "Good night."
Shay nodded. "Good night."
*
From Delphine [11:08]: Hey.
To Delphine [11:08]: Hey.
To Delphine [11:10]: What's up?
From Delphine [11:12]: Nothing.
From Delphine [11:12]: Good night.
To Delphine [11:14]: Good night.
//
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