Shay - Delphine AU | Part 24* (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*, 23*, 24*
"She's missing," Cosima announced when she bustled into the lab.
Without forewarning or context, Delphine's mind leapt to the only mutual female acquaintance she and Cosima shared: Shay. Fear and confusion dumped ice into Delphine's bloodstream until Cosima, unmindful of any reaction from her audience, continued: "She's still friends with me on Facebook but she hasn't updated in forever. So I started digging and asking around and apparently no one's seen her for weeks." Cosima paced and enumerated her subsequent points by ticking them off her fingers. "Not her band mates, not her friends, not her parents."
"Who?" Delphine asked with caution.
"My previous monitor," Cosima proclaimed, exasperated. "I kept thinking about her yesterday since you mentioned her and it turns out this whole time she's been missing. What the hell?"
They stared at one another.
"I don't know," Delphine uttered when the silence grew unbearable.
"Did they do something to her?" Cosima demanded.
"I don't know," Delphine repeated, mind whirling.
"Let me rephrase the question," Cosima said slowly, voice straining, "do you think they're capable of doing something to her--of eliminating loose ends?"
Delphine's lips parted. There was no crime or confirmation in admitting to a suspicion, but admitting it to Cosima would probably be as good as calling a supposition a fact. "I don't know."
Frenzy lurked in Cosima's eyes. "I need to talk to Leekie."
"I thought you were unhappy with your previous monitor," Delphine said, articulating the first thought that came to mind that didn't sound hysterical.
"I was angry at her," Cosima exclaimed. "It doesn't mean I wanted her dead!"
There it was. Fluttering in the open between them. A memory of Greg, skittish but eager, surfaced in Delphine's thoughts. But she'd thought it, hadn't she? That's why she'd brought him up to Aldous. She'd been probing for an answer. She'd wanted to see Aldous's reaction.
"You don't know that," Delphine said quietly.
"That's why I'm going to ask Leekie," Cosima said.
"What will that prove?" Delphine asked. "You think he'd admit to murder? He hid the synthetic sequence that contained the patent from you. What Aldous shares is selective--and that's when it doesn't involve a felony."
One of Cosima's eyebrows quirked. "Felony, huh? All that law reading starting to rub off?" Her gaze turned shrewd. "What about you, Dr. Cormier? How do I know you're not covering up for DYAD's misdeeds?"
"You don't," Delphine said evenly, "but if I were trying to hide the murder of your previous monitor, why would I bring her up when she hadn't been in your thoughts for weeks?"
The muscles in Cosima's jaw contracted. "What's your point?"
"I have questions, too," Delphine said.
"So you're saying you don't know what goes on behind the scenes--well, behind the behind the scenes?"
Delphine breathed out heavily through her nose. "How much did your previous monitor know? Why do you assume I should know much more than she did just because my prior involvement compromised the double blind? I was only researching a small part of the project before I was given greater responsibilities--and, really, my primary focus now is your physical health, not your social standing or habits. Toward that end I'm only told so much." Delphine shook her head. "It's possible you know more than I do."
Cosima crossed her arms, "Yeah, but how much do you actually want to know? How deep do you want to dig? Because I'm in it to hit bedrock."
Delphine took a deep breath. "If you found out foul play was involved in the disappearance of your previous monitor, what would you do?" Cosima's lips formed a stern seal. "If I disappeared tomorrow, would you care?" Delphine pressed her fingertips to her mouth. "Or what about Shay? What if something happened to her?"
Cosima shook her head. "They wouldn't do anything to Shay. They have no reason to."
"Not yet," Delphine muttered.
"I'm not giving them a reason to," Cosima insisted. "Why are you so worried about Shay? Supposing that DYAD is offing wayward operatives, you're the one in a position to end up on the chopping block."
Delphine nodded with a distracted air. "Yes. But I made my decisions, knowing I would be given sensitive information--and I wanted to know it. Perhaps I didn't know how deeply the darker parts of the project ran, but I had an idea that not everything was sanctioned. The only thing Shay has done is be my friend." She met Cosima's gaze. "Look where that's already gotten her. Our secrets aren't like other people's secrets. That's what I was trying to say before." Delphine covered her mouth. "Your previous monitor--did she know about the clones? Did she know you were sick?"
Cosima hurled herself into the nearest lab station chair and slumped over her knees, forearms balanced on her thighs, fingers interlaced. "I don't know how much she put together. She knew something was up and that Leekie was involved. Maybe that was enough."
"We don't know that something horrible or intentional happened to her or that it involves DYAD," Delphine said.
Cosima turned to look toward the wall of windows. "Yeah, but what does it signify that you and I both leapt to the same heinous conclusion?" Cosima's head bobbed up and down in an agitated rhythm. "You're not exactly hiding the fact that you're operating under the assumption that something DYAD-involved could happen to me, you, or anyone close to us."
"Worst case scenario," Delphine affirmed softly. "Isn't that the principle you and your sisters follow? You don't trust DYAD. You might be working against their interests. Sarah has stirred up enough commotion that Rachel Duncan went over Aldous's head to retaliate at you."
"What's up with Rachel anyway?" Cosima asked, attention swinging back to Delphine.
"I don't know."
"You don't know a lot."
"I didn't know she existed until that day she came here to greet you," Delphine defended herself. "I haven't seen her since."
Cosima shook her head slowly and bowed her head. "It's like there's almost no point in trusting you because there's nothing to gain."
"What about trust for the sake of trust?" suggested Delphine.
Cosima loosed a bark of laughter.
"A little harmony wouldn't hurt," Delphine added.
Cosima's head whipped up. "Please tell me that's a page you took out of Shay's book."
"Shay does not have a monopoly on wanting peace and harmony in her life."
Cosima smirked. "Yeah, but before all this did you care all that much for peace and harmony? If it came down to peace or ambition, which one would you have chosen?" Cosima twitched an eyebrow. "Which one would you choose now?"
Delphine didn't answer, but it wasn't lost on her that for the first time, maybe if only in the span of a moment, Cosima sounded almost like she was entertaining the idea that Delphine wasn't entirely her enemy.
*
The name surfaced in Delphine's thoughts later in the day, but the notion that her mind crafted around it, derived from her earlier discussion with Cosima, made her hesitate. Cosima wasn't altogether wrong in supposing that Delphine had little to offer her in terms of material insight. It was more accurate to say that Delphine had little she wanted to share with Cosima--to save herself from possible resultant complications, one, and, two, to prevent fostering the expectation of voluntary disclosure in the future.
Cosima surmised a plot on which Delphine's actions competed on a scale of peace versus ambition, but she'd neglected to factor in a z-axis of pragmatism.
So many paths could end on the wrong side. Of science. Of history. Of reprisal.
Courting Aldous's approval conferred a degree of protection--from him and the nebulous forces mustered behind him. Pursuing and earning Cosima's trust spoke louder to the conscience. Keeping to herself threatened isolation and heat from both sides with no recourse or argument. None of which factored in the law.
Every revelation forced a choice. Every opportunity to choose forced a reevaluation. Every reevaluation posed the same dilemma.
A year ago, the choice might not have been difficult.
Delphine imagined telling Shay the story of this moment. The tug at her heart surprised her.
"Cosima," Delphine said carefully and waited until she garnered Cosima's attention. "Do you know a Scott Smith?"
With the speed of a striking cobra, Cosima's mood went from indifferent to hostile. "How do you know that name?"
Delphine eased back in her seat, striving to embody unthreatened and nonthreatening. "It's the name of a job applicant. Aldous showed me his application. He seemed to be presenting Scott Smith as a strong candidate for the sequencing tech that you are looking for."
Stillness coiled in Cosima's muscles, a spring being compressed, until she shot out of her seat, whirling, spitting, "Shit. Shit shit shit."
"He was your classmate?" Delphine asked gently.
"He's an idiot, is what he is," Cosima said. She shook her head. "I need to--" Her attention snapped onto Delphine, as if remembering who Delphine was. "I need some privacy."
"You're going to try to convince him that coming to work for the DYAD is a bad idea?" Delphine asked.
"Because it is," Cosima said.
A sensation close to pity pulled at Delphine's mouth. "You know what the DYAD looks like from the outside. I've told you about its appeal to the uninitiated. If you try to tell him not to work for a highly acclaimed multinational like the DYAD, he won't understand where you're coming from without being told the entire truth. Especially since as far as he understands, you are currently employed by the DYAD for the reasons he'd like to be."
Cosima ground her teeth, jaw flexing.
"He will make his decision independent of you, Cosima," Delphine said carefully.
"I have to approve any additions to this lab," Cosima pointed out.
"But that doesn't stop Aldous from hiring Scott in some other sector," Delphine pointed out. "Nor does it prevent Scott from inferring that you interfered if an offer is extended and falls through."
Gaze flinty, Cosima said, "How long have you known about this?"
"Aldous brought it up earlier in the week."
Cosima's gaze narrowed, accentuated by the thickness of her eyeliner. "You didn't think to mention it?"
Delphine met her gaze squarely. "I prioritized the stem cell treatment. Then there was the issue of the patent. A lot came up."
"So you weren't withholding it from me?" Cosima pressed.
"I did," Delphine said bluntly, "so we could focus on other things."
Cosima flashed a bitter smile. "So bringing it up now is your strategic play for my good will?"
"I thought you should know," Delphine said.
Cosima's chin dimpled. She nodded curtly to herself. "I need the lab to myself."
*
The woman approached from behind, though Delphine was hardly paying attention enough that she had taken note of any passing figures.
"Dr. Delphine Cormier?"
Delphine raised her head to find a smartly coiffed and besuited woman beside her. She stood at a respectful distance, hands clasped loosely in front of her, her poise and the set of her shoulders settled into relaxed lines, the kind that made Delphine sit up a little straighter. The kind that spoke to the casual assumption of control and authority.
"Yes?" asked Delphine with hesitation, twisting to face the stranger. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
The woman extended a hand. "Marion Bowles."
The name did not tickle any synapses. Even as Delphine put her hand into the proffered one out of reflex and muttered an automatic "Enchantée," the mild confusion must have bled into Delphine's features because the woman smiled. It wasn't a kind smile but it wasn't a cold smile, nor one that Delphine found reassuring. It was polite. Relinquishing her grip, Ms.--Ms.? Mrs.? Dr.?--Bowles said, "You could say I'm on the Board, but it's more accurate to say I consult with the Board."
Delphine's hand sank onto her lap with the absent-minded sluggishness.
"I'm not sure I understand how you know of me, then," Delphine said carefully. "I would not have thought someone like myself merited recognition from the Board, much less consultants to the Board."
"We take notice when one of our directors appears to take on a new protégée," Marion Bowles declared. Delphine's spine straightened. "It's also worth a closer look when she goes on assignment with Jennifer Fitzsimmons and then Cosima Niehaus."
Delphine gazed up at Ms. Bowles, perched still in her chair, unsure how to react when she wasn't sure who this woman was besides well and deeply informed. When Delphine made no reply, Ms. Bowles smiled again. Still not warm, still not cold.
"This is not an interrogation or an audit, Dr. Cormier," Ms. Bowles said. "I saw you sitting here alone and . . . unoccupied. I thought I would take the opportunity to say hello."
But this introduction was something, if not an interrogation or an audit, if a woman possessed of Marion Bowles's claimed credentials would reveal her cards unprompted.
"May I help you?" Delphine asked.
"May I join you?"
Delphine involuntarily glanced about. She was seated in the cafeteria located in the modern part of the DYAD premises, to which she'd retreated for a coffee. She'd briefly entertained the idea of the quieter, if colder, outdoor picnic area, where'd she once enjoyed cigarette breaks in accordance to Ontario's smoking laws, but she'd left her coat behind in the lab and daring winter's encroaching chill without it was inconceivable. The cafeteria, however, afforded no solitude. Distributed among the tables, others partook of meals or snacks and a murmur of conversation maintained a low buzz in the room.
Delphine was acutely aware that the cafeteria was a very public place. It was a sense she'd developed more keenly in the early days of her growing intimacy with Aldous--whose eyes might be watching, who might be noting their joint appearances, who might be measuring their proximity. As a sense of a future in the DYAD took root in Delphine's outlook, prudence had propelled Delphine to mark who took interest, who might have felt they had an opportunity or a stake in gathering intelligence on the political landscape.
Delphine had no memory of ever beholding Marion Bowles's face, not even a passing familiarity with a face she might have encountered or glimpsed at a function, DYAD's or otherwise.
If Marion Bowles was Someone, it was a someone Delphine didn't know and Delphine didn't know if the invisibility made Ms. Bowles more or less influential.
When Delphine hesitated to extend an invitation, Ms. Bowles added a pointed, "If you're not busy."
Delphine gestured to the nearest empty seat. "Please. I'm not busy."
Ms. Bowles lowered herself casually into the indicated chair with an ease that pressed her spine conforming to the curve of the backrest. Delphine resisted the schoolgirl instinct to sit up straight. Ms. Bowles studied Delphine, a cool assessment, but not clinical. Delphine could feel the gap that separated them, physical and hierarchical, but no hostility characterized the way Ms. Bowles surveyed her.
"You haven't been with the DYAD very long, have you, Dr. Cormier?" Ms. Bowles remarked. "Somewhere outside of a year? Two years at most?"
Delphine nodded. She saw no need to provide specifics--if Marion Bowles wanted exact periods, she could look up the information herself. Or so Delphine assumed.
"Do you enjoy working here?"
What was this, a job interview?
Delphine took careful measure of her words. "The opportunities I have here at the DYAD are innovative and exceptional."
Ms. Bowles smile curved with hints of humor. "One of a kind opportunities, wouldn't you say?" Ms. Bowles clasped her hands in her lap. "Would you say that about Cosima? You and she are of the same generation--do you find that your views correspond?"
"I'm not sure what you mean," Delphine said cautiously. "Cosima and I are peers, yes, but if anything, given the amount of doors and disciplines opening up to scientific inquiry, our generation, as you say, has more grounds on which to form disagreements."
"Really?" Ms. Bowles asked, eyebrows rising incrementally. "What are these grounds? Questions of which scientific inquiries to pursue? Disagreements regarding the allocation of resources and efforts? Methodological differences? Ethical?"
"I'm not sure I can say," Delphine hedged. "I can't claim to know Cosima well beyond the work we do together in the lab."
Ms. Bowles crossed one leg over the other at the knee and bounced her suspended foot once. "You aren't curious about her?"
"It is less a question of curiosity," Delphine clarified, "and more an issue of trust."
"Yes," Ms. Bowles breathed. "Trust. So you haven't won her trust."
"It is difficult to overcome a preexisting bias," Delphine defended herself.
"Has she won your trust?" Ms. Bowles inquired with the same casual air.
Delphine fended off a frown. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you want from me. I am doing my best to address the current health concerns facing the project."
Puzzlement brushed Ms. Bowles's expression. "Surely Aldous has impressed upon you that the project is much more than just providing medical care. Do you care about her?"
"I'm sorry?" Delphine said, out of reflex.
"Do you care about Cosima?" Ms. Bowles reiterated. "About her welfare?"
"I want to see her get well," Delphine said. She added, because it was true, "I want the same for Jennifer, also."
Ms. Bowles nodded. "And the others?"
"The others? The other subjects? What about them?"
Ms. Bowles's gaze sharpened. "The other subjects in similar straits."
"There are other cases? Aside from Katja Obinger?" Delphine slumped back into her chair. "I wasn't informed."
"I see that," Ms. Bowles said, eyes concentrated on Delphine.
"Does A--Dr. Leekie know?"
Ms. Bowles separated her hands and gripped the ends of the armrests. "I know that you and Aldous are close."
"He has been a generous mentor to me," Delphine managed, noting that her question hadn't been answered, "though I would not go so far as to consider myself his protégée."
"Aldous isn't getting any younger," Ms. Bowles said easily, "and science hasn't yet stumbled upon a fountain of youth or immortality and likely won't any time soon. He has his legacy to think of."
"Does he?" Delphine wondered. "He is not preparing me very well if those are his intentions. You see the depths of my ignorance."
Ms. Bowles displayed a cool smile, gently condescending. "You're very young yet. In fact, you haven't had much exposure to the industry as a whole. Knowledge is straightforward to impart, experience harder." Ms. Bowles tipped her head fractionally. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
Delphine flashed a hesitant smile. "This is starting to sound more and more like a job interview."
"If it were," Ms. Bowles said, "what position would you like it to be for?"
Delphine's phone loosed a chime.
Ms. Bowles glanced at it first, prompting Delphine to follow suit. The temporarily lit screen gave Delphine enough time to catch Cosima's name.
"Do you want to check that?" Ms. Bowles asked.
Delphine reached for her phone and muttered, "If you'll excuse me."
From Cosima [16:38]: You can come back.
"Something that requires attending?" Ms. Bowles asked. Delphine recognized it as a proposed, acceptable exit. Before Delphine could answer, Ms. Bowles rose smoothly to her feet. Delphine followed her lead. "I'll let you get to that. But I hope that at some time in the future, you and I will have an opportunity for a much more in depth conversation."
Delphine gazed into the face of the mysterious figure. "You know where to find me."
Ms. Bowles smiled. She looked satisfied. "I do."
Delphine hesitated. "And if I would like to contact you?"
The smile deepened. A business card was procured. "We might be able to arrange something."
As Delphine took the business card, she couldn't help but wonder who might be watching, who might be noting, who there among them knew this Marion Bowles.
*
"How do they do it?" Cosima asked.
"Who? Do what?" Delphine wondered. She'd found Cosima hunkered in the corner that constituted the chill zone, the moniker more apt as an indicator of the chilliness of the occupant's demeanor. It was the mood Delphine had more or less expected to be encompassing Cosima, knowing how she'd have scoffed at an attempt to derail her career, and had it not been for Marion Bowles and her inexplicable introduction, Delphine probably would have put off returning immediately to the lab. Circumspection restricted Delphine's questions to herself and Cosima had wallowed in her space.
"How does DYAD turn people into their agents, into their monitors?" Cosima glanced at her. "Regular people."
Delphine shook her head. "I haven't been privy to the process."
Cosima shrugged. "Sometimes there's blackmail involved, I know that, but what about my ex? What was her deal? What did they tell her or offer her that made her think: 'Oh, yeah, that makes me totally cool with reporting on my girlfriend'? Did they get to her before or after she met me, before or after we got together?"
Delphine was quiet. She'd expected to hear more anger in Cosima's words, but she sounded tired, maybe scared. She was no doubt thinking about Scott Smith.
"I don't know." Delphine moistened her lips. "Aldous doesn't answer such questions when I ask him. He prefers to turn the questions around on me. He says, 'How would you do it?'"
Cosima swiveled in her chair, reclined so that her back formed the hypotenuse of a triangle of empty space between her body and the cushions, her arms pulled tight around her body, hands clasping her triceps. With her brows forming a shelf of consternation above her eyes, her gaze landed on Delphine with begrudging interest. "How would you do it?"
Delphine checked a sigh. "The actual answers tend to be the most obvious solutions. Like the patent being encoded in your genes using binary."
"Occam's razor," Cosima chimed in with a nod. She twitched an eyebrow at Delphine expectantly.
"The implementation of the monitors also seems to be the simplest solution," Delphine said. "It's extremely flexible and adaptable to your various situations and temperaments, but basic and uniform enough to provide comparable data. A plus is that the program is structured to allow the subject--you--to have the freedom of choice."
"The illusion of choice," Cosima said.
Delphine favored Cosima with a choice look.
"Alright," Cosima said, flipping up a hand in apology, "I'll stop interrupting."
"In at least one case, as far as I understand, prospects were placed in the path of a subject and she was . . . allowed to choose."
"In other words, plants are one option. Like Paul."
It took a second for Delphine's mind to recognize that "plants" did not refer to foliage. "Yes? Though I'm not familiar with Paul."
Cosima shook her head. "Doesn't matter, you're still missing a key element: How do you get the plants to participate? Paul claims he was blackmailed, that DYAD has damaging dirt on him, so he did what they asked him to. Even if they didn't tell him why."
Delphine mulled on the scenario. "To be honest, blackmail seems like a precarious proposition. Depending on how it's employed." She met Cosima's watching eyes. "Let's take the case of Paul. I assume the blackmail material is unrelated to Project Leda?" Cosima nodded. "In which case, there's little to predict or indicate if he might find the work of being a monitor more objectionable or untenable than what is being held over his head. Then you have to rely on the double blind preventing him from--oh--informing the subject of the nature of his monitor duties or defecting to some other outside outlet."
"Right," Cosima agreed. "Blackmail immediately compromises loyalty."
Delphine shrugged. "The most effective form of blackmail would probably be--well--a case like mine. Being a willing participant in itself becomes incriminating."
Cosima nodded slowly. "Akin to someone who was already positioned close to a subject being persuaded to spy on them. They agree and then the truth is so ugly that they end up needing to hide it, like, out of shame. Maybe."
Delphine nodded.
"But how do you convince someone to agree to spy on someone?" Cosima wondered. "Especially for reasons that aren't disclosed."
Delphine shook her head, at a loss. "A plausible cover story? Material rewards? Appeals to altruism? I assume you'd have to tailor each proposal to the individual case."
"So . . . everyone has a price," Cosima supplied.
Delphine appraised Cosima. "You don't think so?"
"It's more like that's what I'm worried about," Cosima muttered.
"You spoke with Scott Smith?" Delphine asked cautiously.
Cosima interlaced her fingers and pressed her palms to the top of her head. "'Talk' is a generous verb." She glanced at Delphine out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah, yeah, you told me so. He probably thinks the job sounds more lucrative and illustrious now."
"I could speak to Aldous," Delphine said, "but reluctance from me may instead act like a goad to him."
Cosima studied her. "He doesn't trust you?"
"He may no longer put much stock in my merit," Delphine acceded.
Cosima loosed an unexpected grin. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"It is . . . going fairly well," Delphine assessed.
"Given the sensitive nature of the topic," finished Cosima. She raised her hands into the air, in what have looked like a stretch if she had been stretching. "Whatever. Maybe you should go to him, spin him some tall tale about how I think Scott is a sleaze because he couldn't stop looking down my shirt."
"He did?"
"No," Cosima answered bluntly. "And now you can't tell Leekie that because you're a terrible liar."
"I am?"
Cosima smirked. "Alright. Whatever. I'm out. My concentration's shot."
"Do you need a ride?" Delphine offered, with less hesitation than she'd had in the past.
Cosima shook her head as she got to her feet. "No need to trouble yourself." She cocked her head. "Unless you're heading that way."
It was Friday, but Delphine hadn't settled any plans with Shay for the night. There was the matter of her unfinished homework assignment: Determine their weekend plans. Though it wasn't officially the weekend yet and other concerns had taken up residence in Delphine's mind. Marion Bowles. The other unknown subjects who were ill.
Avoiding Cosima's implied question, Delphine asked instead, "How do you get home when I don't drive you and if you're not using the company car service?"
"Uber," Cosima said. She grinned. "Like you said the other day, you can't stop technology."
*
From Cosima [5:05]: How do you feel about sushi?
To Cosima [5:05]: I sometimes worry if it's sustainable?
From Cosima [5:05]: I meant how do you feel about eating sushi?
To Cosima [5:06]: I eat it occasionally. I like it now and again.
From Cosima [5:06]: How do you feel about eating it now?
To Cosima [5:06]: Now?
From Cosima [5:07]: You mentioned there was Japanese nearby, didn't you?
To Cosima [5:07]: Yeah, a few places. Are u home?
From Cosima [5:07]: Yup. I can swing by.
To Cosima [5:07]: How about around 6? I'll be home around then.
From Cosima [5:08]: Sure. Let me know when you're ready and I'll come down. See you soon.
It felt early in the evening for Cosima to be home. If Shay judged by the hours Delphine kept. Shay couldn't recall ever seeing Delphine before six on a weekday and she couldn't think of a reason Cosima and Delphine wouldn't keep the same work hours. Maybe Delphine had let Cosima go early?
The notion--of Delphine exercising her authority in benevolent fashion--induced a smile at first, but then followed the realization that this was Delphine and Cosima. One of them going home early may have been an act of mercy or relief to one or both parties.
A flutter of apprehension accompanied Shay on the journey home.
But Cosima was all smiles when Shay met her in the hall downstairs.
"So I know of like one or two places that serve sushi that take about a ten-, fifteen-minute walk," Shay said. She glanced down at Cosima's footwear, which were not exactly walking shoes. "The temperature is dropping a bit, though. I don't know if you want to muster through that. We can take my car."
"I'm down for walking," Cosima said. "I can get a look around the neighborhood."
The falling temperature prevented the walk from being comfortable, but the lack of a breeze at least mitigated the addition of a chill factor. There was a liveliness in the air as they wended around other pedestrians and parties eager to start the weekend and take advantage of happy hours. Cosima kept up a running commentary on the sights and stores and Shay answered her questions and provided commentary where she could. Still, when they tumbled into the restaurant Shay's ears stung in the heat and the tip of Cosima's nose sported a touch of pink.
"What do you recommend here?" Cosima asked when they were confronted with the menu and were finished with the business of shedding outer layers.
"I have no idea," confessed Shay, picking up the menu. "I've never been here."
Cosima looked startled, then she grinned. "Alright. I'm down. Sake?"
"It's strong," Shay remarked.
"You're not driving," Cosima reminded her.
"Okay, but only if we split drinking it evenly."
"Why does that sound like it's coming from bad past experience?" Cosima asked.
"Because it is," Shay confirmed. "I feel the need to make it clear now that I'm not going to let you get away with making me finish everything."
"Why would you say that?"
"Just a vibe I get from you," Shay said.
Cosima quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of vibe?"
"You remind me of my brother. He orders too much and then he behaves like it's an act of generosity when he makes me finish all the dishes."
"He's older?" Cosima asked. Shay nodded. "Then maybe he does feel like he's doing his big brotherly duty by feeding you. Maybe he worries you don't get enough to eat."
"He could be a good big brother by listening to me when I say I don't need to eat anymore and not guilt-tripping me into finishing meals."
Cosima grinned. "The way you talk about it makes me wish I had an older brother. It'd be great to have one around when I get the munchies."
"That's not quite how big brothers work," chided Shay.
"No?" Cosima asked, cheeky. "Then I guess I didn't miss out on much." She shed the sarcasm. "Did Delphine get this warning?"
"No."
"No?"
"Delphine has a European sensibility regarding food proportions. It's never been an issue. Aside from the wine."
"As opposed to my presumably oversized American sense of proportion?" Cosima teased.
Shay smiled to herself. "As opposed to the mischief I'm seeing in your eyes right now."
Cosima laughed. "I didn't have any designs before you said something. If there's mischief there, you put it there."
Shay jerked her head to the side. "But it's still up to you to act on it."
"That's how you're going to shift blame?" Cosima scoffed. Shay abstained from responding, keeping her eyes fixed on the menu. She could hear a smile in Cosima's voice. "Alright. I see how it is. Noted. Do you have any sake preferences?"
"I'm not really versed in sake," Shay admitted.
Cosima ran her finger down the list of sake options. "Do you want sweet or more of a kick in the throat?"
Shay winced at the latter description. "Let's go with sweet."
"Nigori, then," Cosima said. "Flavored sakes can be a gamble: you never know if it's going to taste like medicinal syrup. Oh, wait, they've got a special tonight. We can have a whole 'sake flight'--three different types."
Shay smiled. "You've had a lot of sake?"
"Enough to be able to tell them apart."
"Noted," Shay said. Cosima glanced up and caught Shay's smug expression. Cosima flashed a smile. Shay browsed the menu. "What are you considering? California rolls?"
"Ha ha," Cosima drawled. "It's not even on the menu. Are California rolls a thing you'd see on a menu up here?"
"There's another restaurant down the street that has it. I didn't know this one wouldn't."
"So you've been to the other sushi place but not to this one," Cosima observed. "Why did you pick this one, then? I have to say that this is a fancier restaurant than I was expecting."
"I haven't had an excuse to come here," Shay said. "Like you said, it's fancier, and I always figured I'd want to come with someone rather than by myself. That and I remember you talking about fish quality one time. I'm hoping that the prices here reflect high standards."
"You didn't think to bring Delphine?" Cosima wondered.
"The opportunity didn't come up. There was always somewhere else to go."
"Not because sushi isn't her thing?" Cosima wondered.
"I couldn't tell you one way or another," Shay said. Sushi wasn't Shay's first choice for mode of fish consumption, partly because the aforementioned quality and price varied so radically one restaurant to the next, so the option was rarely at the forefront of Shay's mind whenever meal deliberations came up.
"In terms of sustainability," Cosima said in a casual tone, "I'm not sure this was the best bet."
"Yeah, I just noticed they don't use any farmed fish," Shay agreed. "Though that doesn't necessarily mean they're irresponsible."
Silence from Cosima met that supposition, but to her surprise Shay saw a measure of pause in Cosima's features, as if she were assessing the validity of the remark. The topic slid from further examination when Cosima asked, "Are we allowed to do the omakase without a reservation, do you think?"
Shay raised an eyebrow.
"It would save us the trouble of having to choose," Cosima pointed out. "That or we can play a game of 'who can choose the better tapas' and loser has to foot the bill."
"That sounds like a very dangerous game," Shay said. "The problem I have with that is that I don't know you well enough to know in which direction that would be dangerous."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know if you're the type of person who engages in genuine competition," Shay informed the menu, "or the type of person who goes for subterfuge and self-sabotage to wind up paying the bill."
"Dude, what even are your past experiences?" Cosima laughed. "Which one are you?"
"Depends on the situation."
"So if you were on a date," Cosima said in a leading manner.
"Depends on the woman," Shay finished, smiling.
"Alright, I acknowledge your non-answers," Cosima conceded. "How do you meet women in Toronto?"
"Me or in general?"
"Both."
"Toronto's a gay friendly place," Shay said. "There are bars and clubs. Not really my thing, though. I use a dating app sometimes."
"Which one?"
"Sapphire."
"Any good?"
"Still single," Shay announced lightly. Cosima grinned. "Which isn't a measure of whether or not the app is good, but I've yet to have real success."
Cosima nodded. "Maybe I'll look into it. I've never used a dating app before, though."
"It can be an . . . experience," Shay said diplomatically.
You're really giving it a ringing endorsement," Cosima said drily.
"Well," Shay said cautiously, "I think it's more like Tinder than anything else and I think that approach has a hard time taking off in our community."
"You mean like a casual hookup scene?"
"Well, you know, more appearance-based, swipe left, swipe right."
"Right, so . . . sort of superficial, maybe facilitating a more casual scene. Is that what you're looking for?" Cosima asked.
"No."
"So you're using the app least suited to your purpose?" Cosima teased.
"Maybe," Shay said. "Sometimes I don't even know what I want on any given day."
Cosima grinned. "Anyway, how are we going to do this?"
"I would like to choose dishes," Shay said.
"Being decisive, I like it," Cosima said.
"But I don't want to turn dinner into a competition."
"Deal," Cosima said.
*
Around the time the fourth dish made it to their table--chicken wings that piqued Cosima's curiosity and from which Shay abstained, though Cosima expounded on the simple delectable genius of just salt and pepper in Asian-style chicken wings--Shay received a message.
From Delphine [6:50]: I've decided what we will do. I will pick you up tomorrow? We could do lunch first or go early and then do lunch afterward.
Shay read the message, then reread it and stared at it for good measure, struck with a second's self-doubt that maybe the sake was affecting her reading comprehension. The message was puzzling enough that it merited immediate reply. "Sorry, excuse me," Shay told Cosima as she typed.
To Delphine [6:51]: U didnt say what we're doing.
From Delphine [6:51]: It's a surprise.
From Delphine [6:51]: But you can decide if we do lunch first or after.
Shay frowned at the screen.
To Delphine [6:52]: Which do u think is better?
From Delphine [6:52]: If we do lunch first, it will be an early lunch. If we do lunch after, it will be a late lunch.
To Delphine [6:52]: That does not answer my question.
From Delphine [6:53]: I don't think one is better or worse.
With a shake of her head, Shay put her phone aside.
Cosima, scanning her expression, asked, "Delphine?"
Shay's eyebrows flicked up. "How'd you guess?"
Cosima paused--maybe due to a sluggishness wrought by the sake, which they were consuming at a pace of a one-for-one exchange that Cosima said would guarantee they consumed equal amounts; what Shay knew for sure was that her alcohol tolerance was not what it used to be judging by the heat pooling in her ears--but then said, "It's the only name I have to throw out there." Shay smiled, conceding the truth. Cosima picked up a chicken wing. "Was she trying to nab you to get dinner?"
"No," Shay said.
"So I'm not keeping you from her right now?" Cosima asked.
"No. Why? Would you want to?" Shay asked recklessly and that was definitely the sake speaking and it was definitely mortification that made Shay freeze once her mind caught up with her mouth.
But Cosima looked thoughtful. "If that was my goal, the way to derive the most enjoyment from that would be to make sure that Delphine knows I'm here with you. But she doesn't know and I don't really care if she knows or not. That wasn't my intention tonight."
"What was your intention?" Shay asked, giving the sake rein of her tongue since it didn't seem to be doing any harm.
"Spend the night in good company."
Shay smiled crookedly. "I appreciate that you qualified that with 'good.'"
"Having good company facilitates being good company," Cosima posited.
"Were you at risk of being bad company?" teased Shay.
"To myself, maybe," Cosima said, without humor or bluster.
"Yeah?" Shay asked softly, sobered by Cosima's tone. "Why do you say that?"
Cosima shrugged. "Sometimes if I'm left to my own devices too long, I start to think too much."
"Think too much?" Shay wondered. "I assumed thinking was the default state of being for people like you and Delphine. Is there actually a threshold where it becomes too much?"
"Maybe not so much a threshold but there are certain thoughts it's better not to hole up with alone."
"Like what?" Shay asked gently.
Cosima shook her head, greasy fingers curled loosely to avoid smearing anything. "Like . . . is this all there is?"
"Is what all there is to what?" Shay asked, lost.
"Is this all there is to life?" Cosima asked plainly.
"Oh," uttered Shay, trying to shift her thoughts onto more solid ground with the philosophical pivot. "Yeah. That's--that's heavy thinking material."
Cosima fixed Shay with a look that was far too keen and sober. "Do you think there's more than just this: being born, waking, eating, sleeping, converting energy, cellular mitosis, aging, dying?"
Shay plucked an edamame from the half-depleted dish to have something to do with her hands and help her mind focus on articulation. "A lot of stuff happens on top of all that--and in between, too. Philosophers would say that's the stuff of life."
"Sure. But I'm talking about the finish line," Cosima said. "When you get there is it like hitting a wall or is there more, something after?"
"Are you asking for a definitive answer?" Shay wondered.
Cosima smiled. "I'm curious about your opinion."
"What's yours?" Shay parried.
Cosima lifted an eyebrow.
"Since you're asking," Shay amended.
Cosima's mouth pulled to the side. "I didn't expect you to be shy about this."
"Not shy," Shay said, "wary. I don't enjoy being backed into a corner."
Cosima's head cocked at an angle. "Science and metaphysics don't have to be mutually exclusive."
Shay shrugged.
Cosima nodded slowly. "Should I thank Dr. Cormier for your skittishness?"
Shay nibbled a bean out of its edamame shell. Cosima leaned forward.
"Scientific methods have been applied to test all sorts of metaphysical realities," Cosima said. "Attempts have been made to measure the weight of the soul. We try all sorts of ways to detect spirits and ghosts. Individuals and civilizations devoted a lot of time and energy and observation toward predicting when the world would end using disciplines like math and astrology."
Shay smiled to cover a laugh. "You sound like Delphine. You're just missing the punchline."
"Punchline?"
"That the science has come up with nothing."
Cosima smiled. "Depends who you ask. The human brain is . ." Cosima shook her head, waving a hand. ". . . weird. Mysterious. We don't fully understand all its processes. You know it will fill in details if it can't process everything? It's why optical illusions work. Human brains have trouble processing certain types of inputs, so to provide an impression that fits our cognitive capabilities, the brain makes assumptions based on evolutionary lessons and principles we mostly only guess at. Science can be like poking around in the dark hoping to get results that provide pictures we can make sense of. We've gotten a lot better at it but there are still so many things we don't understand. Maybe there are some things we're not ready to understand."
Shay leaned back in her chair. "I asked Delphine once if she found all those unanswered questions overwhelming. Do you?"
Cosima wiped her fingers on her napkin, eyes lowered to the task. "Only a handful of certain, very specific questions."
"Like if there's more to life than a physical existence?"
"That's actually not one of them," Cosima said softly, a little wonderingly. "It's not at the top of the list, anyway. Yet. I mean, one way or another we're all going to get the answer to that question." Cosima fingered her small sake cup. "Sooner or later."
"What do you want the answer to be?" Shay asked.
"I don't know," Cosima said. She sipped from the cup, replaced it on the table carefully, then peered at Shay through the top of her lenses. "It might depend on whether or not I feel satisfied with the time I've had when the end comes."
Shay nodded. "That's probably the typical reaction."
"What about you?" Cosima asked.
For someone who hadn't divulged much substance, Cosima seemed to expect it in return. Shay finished her edamame and shrugged. "At some point I stopped believing in a heaven or a hell. I don't think Osiris is going to measure my heart or that a valkyrie is going sweep me off my feet--though in that case I don't know if I'd complain.
"Reincarnation has its appealing points--that you get another chance, that you and the people important to you will meet again--but I think, at the very least, for me, I want to believe that we're capable of putting good energy out into the world regardless of all that. Not necessarily karma, that you're paying something off or paying something forward, but I like the sense of everything being connected." Shay ran her finger along the edge of her plate. "It makes me feel like there's a stake in trying to be a decent person." Shay shook her head. "Otherwise, what's the point?"
"The human condition," Cosima intoned.
Shay giggled, partly to vent the nervous titter in her stomach. "Right? My mom made me read . . . everything--and most of it was about the 'human condition.' But that just means we've been asking the same questions for forever, whatever we're prone to believing in any given era."
"People with too much time to think," Cosima said lightly. "They should have spent more time enjoying meals with good company."
Shay chuckled. "But if there hadn't been people who did all the overthinking already, what would my mom have given me to read growing up? And . . ." Shay said, downing the liquid in her cup of sake, "how would I have learned to recognize all the tropes of the human condition so that I could ignore them?"
Cosima refilled her cup. "Is that what you do?"
"No," Shay said, riding on the buzz in her blood, "but I try."
*
When the tops of buildings weren't obscuring it, there was a half moon in the sky throwing light onto their path on the walk back. Cosima occasionally glanced up at its pale, semi-obscured features.
"Thanks for getting dinner with me tonight," Cosima said.
"I got to try a restaurant I've been curious about, so it was an opportunity for me," Shay said.
"Are you suggesting you took advantage of me instead of the other way around?" Cosima said, smile mischievous in the moonlight.
"How is that you manage to make innocent things sound more suggestive than they were in the first place?" sniped Shay.
"If it sounds that way, I'm going to say that's all on you," Cosima declared.
Shay gave Cosima a light shove. Cosima stumbled a few steps, laughing.
"For the record," Cosima added, "you were at the top of my list for good company. Not just because you were the closest."
"Was it a very long list?" Shay asked, teasing.
"Hey, I know some people in Toronto," Cosima objected to Shay's implications. "Admittedly . . . how would you categorize people you care about, but there's a feeling that you don't know them very well, or they don't know you well, or you're not even sure you get along?"
Shay frowned. Her muddled thoughts threw out a suggestion: "Family?"
For a second, Cosima's expression slackened with befuddlement. Then she laughed, nearly into a coughing fit. Shay looked on, slightly puzzled.
"Exactly," Cosima said when she recovered. "They're like family."
*
Cosima dropped Shay off at her door. There might have been a moment, a pause, where Shay thought Cosima looked undecided, but Cosima waved and went on her way. Something about watching Cosima peel off toward the stairs and her separate quarters felt reminiscent of bidding good night to other recruits before lights out. It was a disorienting notion; Shay tended not to think about those days.
Inside her warm studio, Shay shed all her outer layers and retrieved her phone from the bottom of her bag. Delphine's last message had accrued no additional commentary since Shay had abandoned their exchange. Shay flopped into the single seater, hanging her legs over the arm.
To Delphine [8:03]: How about u cone over tomorrow morning, we have brunch at my place, and then we can go on adventures?
From Delphine [8:05]: What time should I come over?
To Delphine [8:05]: 9? 10?
From Delphine [8:05]: 9:30?
Shay smiled.
To Delphine [8:06]: That'll work.
From Delphine [8:06]: OK. I will come over at 9:30.
Shay melted into the seat. She should drink a glass of water. Or two. The languor was departing or settling in, the sake working its way out of her bloodstream, but her digestive system gearing up to conduct serious work. If she didn't move, sleepiness would keep her anchored lazily in the spot.
To Delphine [8:07]: How was it day?
From Delphine [8:07]: Interesting.
To Delphine [8:08]: Interesting like cool top secret stuff happened born interesting like someone sent u a funny work email?
Shay blinked at her screen.
To Delphine [8:08]: or*
To Delphine [8:08]: Sorry. I may have had too much to drive.
To Delphine [8:08]: drink*
Shay powered down the phone, got to her feet, and slipped the device into her back pocket, even as it loosed a series of alerts. She made her way to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water that she downed in one go. She refilled the glass and leaned against the island.
From Delphine [8:09]: Interesting in that it seems like more people know of me than I was aware.
From Delphine [8:09]: Make sure to drink water.
From Delphine [8:09]: And perhaps eat something if you haven't.
To Delphine [8:11]: Being known sounds like a good thing?
From Delphine [8:11]: Have to wait and see. How are you feeling?
To Delphine [8:12]. I'm fine. at home.
From Delphine [8:12]: How was your day?
To Delphine [8:12]: OK.
Shay smiled to herself.
To Delphine [8:12]: Now I'm feeling lazy.
From Delphine [8:13]: What does a lazy Shay do?
To Delphine [8:13]: Read. Browse the Internet. Sleep.
To Delphine [8:13]: What does a lazy Delphie so?
From Delphine [8:14]: The same. I used to smoke as well.
Shay grimaced.
From Delphine [8:14]: You probably made a face when you read that.
To Delphine [8:14]: Maybe.
From Delphine [8:14]: It's okay. It was better I quit sooner rather than later.
To Delphine [8:15]: There was a lot of smoking in the military. That's mostly what it reminds me of.
To Delphine [8:15]: Bored soldiers killing time.
To Delphine [8:15]: That probably wasn't u.
From Delphine [8:16]: Yes. I was never a soldier, just a medical student.
Shay shook her head.
To Delphine [8:16]: I meant bored.
From Delphine [8:16]: I was that. Sometimes.
Shay's mind supplied the words in Delphine's voice, but it couldn't decide on the tone: dry sarcasm or sly revelation.
To Delphine [8:16]: So being a med student wasn't like Greys Anatomy?
From Delphine [8:17]: I don't know what that means.
To Delphine [8:17]: It's a show. U can watch it in Netflix.
From Delphine [8:17]: Maybe something I might watch if someone watched with me.
The suggestion plucked a chord the alcohol had unearthed and left open to exposure. Shay envisioned Cosima at the door, that moment Shay thought might have been hesitation, and balked at her own impulse to tell Delphine to come over, to be close, to fill the studio with her presence--
To ward off the livewire surge of loneliness.
Shay scoffed at herself. At the way she strategically failed to mention Cosima or that night's dinner. At the way she wanted to carry on this inconsequential thread of communication with Delphine if it meant maintaining a flimsy connection, grasping at a sense of immediacy and intimacy through a piece of inanimate, remote hardware as if it could substitute for the contact she'd failed to find for so long.
A weight dragged at Shay's heart, a tug at the bottom of her brain that threatened to bring it plunging and sinking, familiar and dismaying.
She couldn't dwell on this. She knew what lay down that trajectory.
To Delphine [8:18]: I'll see u tomorrow.
From Delphine [8:18]: 9:30.
To Delphine [8:18]: Yes. Good night.
From Delphine [8:18]: Bonsoir.
The messenger closed with a tap. Simple and instantaneous. If only her mind were capable of the same and Shay could have put a stop to all the mental processes that kept her cognizant and plagued by the awareness that Delphine lurked just a tap on a touchscreen away.
//
Next
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*, 19, 20*, 21*, 22*, 23*, 24*
"She's missing," Cosima announced when she bustled into the lab.
Without forewarning or context, Delphine's mind leapt to the only mutual female acquaintance she and Cosima shared: Shay. Fear and confusion dumped ice into Delphine's bloodstream until Cosima, unmindful of any reaction from her audience, continued: "She's still friends with me on Facebook but she hasn't updated in forever. So I started digging and asking around and apparently no one's seen her for weeks." Cosima paced and enumerated her subsequent points by ticking them off her fingers. "Not her band mates, not her friends, not her parents."
"Who?" Delphine asked with caution.
"My previous monitor," Cosima proclaimed, exasperated. "I kept thinking about her yesterday since you mentioned her and it turns out this whole time she's been missing. What the hell?"
They stared at one another.
"I don't know," Delphine uttered when the silence grew unbearable.
"Did they do something to her?" Cosima demanded.
"I don't know," Delphine repeated, mind whirling.
"Let me rephrase the question," Cosima said slowly, voice straining, "do you think they're capable of doing something to her--of eliminating loose ends?"
Delphine's lips parted. There was no crime or confirmation in admitting to a suspicion, but admitting it to Cosima would probably be as good as calling a supposition a fact. "I don't know."
Frenzy lurked in Cosima's eyes. "I need to talk to Leekie."
"I thought you were unhappy with your previous monitor," Delphine said, articulating the first thought that came to mind that didn't sound hysterical.
"I was angry at her," Cosima exclaimed. "It doesn't mean I wanted her dead!"
There it was. Fluttering in the open between them. A memory of Greg, skittish but eager, surfaced in Delphine's thoughts. But she'd thought it, hadn't she? That's why she'd brought him up to Aldous. She'd been probing for an answer. She'd wanted to see Aldous's reaction.
"You don't know that," Delphine said quietly.
"That's why I'm going to ask Leekie," Cosima said.
"What will that prove?" Delphine asked. "You think he'd admit to murder? He hid the synthetic sequence that contained the patent from you. What Aldous shares is selective--and that's when it doesn't involve a felony."
One of Cosima's eyebrows quirked. "Felony, huh? All that law reading starting to rub off?" Her gaze turned shrewd. "What about you, Dr. Cormier? How do I know you're not covering up for DYAD's misdeeds?"
"You don't," Delphine said evenly, "but if I were trying to hide the murder of your previous monitor, why would I bring her up when she hadn't been in your thoughts for weeks?"
The muscles in Cosima's jaw contracted. "What's your point?"
"I have questions, too," Delphine said.
"So you're saying you don't know what goes on behind the scenes--well, behind the behind the scenes?"
Delphine breathed out heavily through her nose. "How much did your previous monitor know? Why do you assume I should know much more than she did just because my prior involvement compromised the double blind? I was only researching a small part of the project before I was given greater responsibilities--and, really, my primary focus now is your physical health, not your social standing or habits. Toward that end I'm only told so much." Delphine shook her head. "It's possible you know more than I do."
Cosima crossed her arms, "Yeah, but how much do you actually want to know? How deep do you want to dig? Because I'm in it to hit bedrock."
Delphine took a deep breath. "If you found out foul play was involved in the disappearance of your previous monitor, what would you do?" Cosima's lips formed a stern seal. "If I disappeared tomorrow, would you care?" Delphine pressed her fingertips to her mouth. "Or what about Shay? What if something happened to her?"
Cosima shook her head. "They wouldn't do anything to Shay. They have no reason to."
"Not yet," Delphine muttered.
"I'm not giving them a reason to," Cosima insisted. "Why are you so worried about Shay? Supposing that DYAD is offing wayward operatives, you're the one in a position to end up on the chopping block."
Delphine nodded with a distracted air. "Yes. But I made my decisions, knowing I would be given sensitive information--and I wanted to know it. Perhaps I didn't know how deeply the darker parts of the project ran, but I had an idea that not everything was sanctioned. The only thing Shay has done is be my friend." She met Cosima's gaze. "Look where that's already gotten her. Our secrets aren't like other people's secrets. That's what I was trying to say before." Delphine covered her mouth. "Your previous monitor--did she know about the clones? Did she know you were sick?"
Cosima hurled herself into the nearest lab station chair and slumped over her knees, forearms balanced on her thighs, fingers interlaced. "I don't know how much she put together. She knew something was up and that Leekie was involved. Maybe that was enough."
"We don't know that something horrible or intentional happened to her or that it involves DYAD," Delphine said.
Cosima turned to look toward the wall of windows. "Yeah, but what does it signify that you and I both leapt to the same heinous conclusion?" Cosima's head bobbed up and down in an agitated rhythm. "You're not exactly hiding the fact that you're operating under the assumption that something DYAD-involved could happen to me, you, or anyone close to us."
"Worst case scenario," Delphine affirmed softly. "Isn't that the principle you and your sisters follow? You don't trust DYAD. You might be working against their interests. Sarah has stirred up enough commotion that Rachel Duncan went over Aldous's head to retaliate at you."
"What's up with Rachel anyway?" Cosima asked, attention swinging back to Delphine.
"I don't know."
"You don't know a lot."
"I didn't know she existed until that day she came here to greet you," Delphine defended herself. "I haven't seen her since."
Cosima shook her head slowly and bowed her head. "It's like there's almost no point in trusting you because there's nothing to gain."
"What about trust for the sake of trust?" suggested Delphine.
Cosima loosed a bark of laughter.
"A little harmony wouldn't hurt," Delphine added.
Cosima's head whipped up. "Please tell me that's a page you took out of Shay's book."
"Shay does not have a monopoly on wanting peace and harmony in her life."
Cosima smirked. "Yeah, but before all this did you care all that much for peace and harmony? If it came down to peace or ambition, which one would you have chosen?" Cosima twitched an eyebrow. "Which one would you choose now?"
Delphine didn't answer, but it wasn't lost on her that for the first time, maybe if only in the span of a moment, Cosima sounded almost like she was entertaining the idea that Delphine wasn't entirely her enemy.
*
The name surfaced in Delphine's thoughts later in the day, but the notion that her mind crafted around it, derived from her earlier discussion with Cosima, made her hesitate. Cosima wasn't altogether wrong in supposing that Delphine had little to offer her in terms of material insight. It was more accurate to say that Delphine had little she wanted to share with Cosima--to save herself from possible resultant complications, one, and, two, to prevent fostering the expectation of voluntary disclosure in the future.
Cosima surmised a plot on which Delphine's actions competed on a scale of peace versus ambition, but she'd neglected to factor in a z-axis of pragmatism.
So many paths could end on the wrong side. Of science. Of history. Of reprisal.
Courting Aldous's approval conferred a degree of protection--from him and the nebulous forces mustered behind him. Pursuing and earning Cosima's trust spoke louder to the conscience. Keeping to herself threatened isolation and heat from both sides with no recourse or argument. None of which factored in the law.
Every revelation forced a choice. Every opportunity to choose forced a reevaluation. Every reevaluation posed the same dilemma.
A year ago, the choice might not have been difficult.
Delphine imagined telling Shay the story of this moment. The tug at her heart surprised her.
"Cosima," Delphine said carefully and waited until she garnered Cosima's attention. "Do you know a Scott Smith?"
With the speed of a striking cobra, Cosima's mood went from indifferent to hostile. "How do you know that name?"
Delphine eased back in her seat, striving to embody unthreatened and nonthreatening. "It's the name of a job applicant. Aldous showed me his application. He seemed to be presenting Scott Smith as a strong candidate for the sequencing tech that you are looking for."
Stillness coiled in Cosima's muscles, a spring being compressed, until she shot out of her seat, whirling, spitting, "Shit. Shit shit shit."
"He was your classmate?" Delphine asked gently.
"He's an idiot, is what he is," Cosima said. She shook her head. "I need to--" Her attention snapped onto Delphine, as if remembering who Delphine was. "I need some privacy."
"You're going to try to convince him that coming to work for the DYAD is a bad idea?" Delphine asked.
"Because it is," Cosima said.
A sensation close to pity pulled at Delphine's mouth. "You know what the DYAD looks like from the outside. I've told you about its appeal to the uninitiated. If you try to tell him not to work for a highly acclaimed multinational like the DYAD, he won't understand where you're coming from without being told the entire truth. Especially since as far as he understands, you are currently employed by the DYAD for the reasons he'd like to be."
Cosima ground her teeth, jaw flexing.
"He will make his decision independent of you, Cosima," Delphine said carefully.
"I have to approve any additions to this lab," Cosima pointed out.
"But that doesn't stop Aldous from hiring Scott in some other sector," Delphine pointed out. "Nor does it prevent Scott from inferring that you interfered if an offer is extended and falls through."
Gaze flinty, Cosima said, "How long have you known about this?"
"Aldous brought it up earlier in the week."
Cosima's gaze narrowed, accentuated by the thickness of her eyeliner. "You didn't think to mention it?"
Delphine met her gaze squarely. "I prioritized the stem cell treatment. Then there was the issue of the patent. A lot came up."
"So you weren't withholding it from me?" Cosima pressed.
"I did," Delphine said bluntly, "so we could focus on other things."
Cosima flashed a bitter smile. "So bringing it up now is your strategic play for my good will?"
"I thought you should know," Delphine said.
Cosima's chin dimpled. She nodded curtly to herself. "I need the lab to myself."
*
The woman approached from behind, though Delphine was hardly paying attention enough that she had taken note of any passing figures.
"Dr. Delphine Cormier?"
Delphine raised her head to find a smartly coiffed and besuited woman beside her. She stood at a respectful distance, hands clasped loosely in front of her, her poise and the set of her shoulders settled into relaxed lines, the kind that made Delphine sit up a little straighter. The kind that spoke to the casual assumption of control and authority.
"Yes?" asked Delphine with hesitation, twisting to face the stranger. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
The woman extended a hand. "Marion Bowles."
The name did not tickle any synapses. Even as Delphine put her hand into the proffered one out of reflex and muttered an automatic "Enchantée," the mild confusion must have bled into Delphine's features because the woman smiled. It wasn't a kind smile but it wasn't a cold smile, nor one that Delphine found reassuring. It was polite. Relinquishing her grip, Ms.--Ms.? Mrs.? Dr.?--Bowles said, "You could say I'm on the Board, but it's more accurate to say I consult with the Board."
Delphine's hand sank onto her lap with the absent-minded sluggishness.
"I'm not sure I understand how you know of me, then," Delphine said carefully. "I would not have thought someone like myself merited recognition from the Board, much less consultants to the Board."
"We take notice when one of our directors appears to take on a new protégée," Marion Bowles declared. Delphine's spine straightened. "It's also worth a closer look when she goes on assignment with Jennifer Fitzsimmons and then Cosima Niehaus."
Delphine gazed up at Ms. Bowles, perched still in her chair, unsure how to react when she wasn't sure who this woman was besides well and deeply informed. When Delphine made no reply, Ms. Bowles smiled again. Still not warm, still not cold.
"This is not an interrogation or an audit, Dr. Cormier," Ms. Bowles said. "I saw you sitting here alone and . . . unoccupied. I thought I would take the opportunity to say hello."
But this introduction was something, if not an interrogation or an audit, if a woman possessed of Marion Bowles's claimed credentials would reveal her cards unprompted.
"May I help you?" Delphine asked.
"May I join you?"
Delphine involuntarily glanced about. She was seated in the cafeteria located in the modern part of the DYAD premises, to which she'd retreated for a coffee. She'd briefly entertained the idea of the quieter, if colder, outdoor picnic area, where'd she once enjoyed cigarette breaks in accordance to Ontario's smoking laws, but she'd left her coat behind in the lab and daring winter's encroaching chill without it was inconceivable. The cafeteria, however, afforded no solitude. Distributed among the tables, others partook of meals or snacks and a murmur of conversation maintained a low buzz in the room.
Delphine was acutely aware that the cafeteria was a very public place. It was a sense she'd developed more keenly in the early days of her growing intimacy with Aldous--whose eyes might be watching, who might be noting their joint appearances, who might be measuring their proximity. As a sense of a future in the DYAD took root in Delphine's outlook, prudence had propelled Delphine to mark who took interest, who might have felt they had an opportunity or a stake in gathering intelligence on the political landscape.
Delphine had no memory of ever beholding Marion Bowles's face, not even a passing familiarity with a face she might have encountered or glimpsed at a function, DYAD's or otherwise.
If Marion Bowles was Someone, it was a someone Delphine didn't know and Delphine didn't know if the invisibility made Ms. Bowles more or less influential.
When Delphine hesitated to extend an invitation, Ms. Bowles added a pointed, "If you're not busy."
Delphine gestured to the nearest empty seat. "Please. I'm not busy."
Ms. Bowles lowered herself casually into the indicated chair with an ease that pressed her spine conforming to the curve of the backrest. Delphine resisted the schoolgirl instinct to sit up straight. Ms. Bowles studied Delphine, a cool assessment, but not clinical. Delphine could feel the gap that separated them, physical and hierarchical, but no hostility characterized the way Ms. Bowles surveyed her.
"You haven't been with the DYAD very long, have you, Dr. Cormier?" Ms. Bowles remarked. "Somewhere outside of a year? Two years at most?"
Delphine nodded. She saw no need to provide specifics--if Marion Bowles wanted exact periods, she could look up the information herself. Or so Delphine assumed.
"Do you enjoy working here?"
What was this, a job interview?
Delphine took careful measure of her words. "The opportunities I have here at the DYAD are innovative and exceptional."
Ms. Bowles smile curved with hints of humor. "One of a kind opportunities, wouldn't you say?" Ms. Bowles clasped her hands in her lap. "Would you say that about Cosima? You and she are of the same generation--do you find that your views correspond?"
"I'm not sure what you mean," Delphine said cautiously. "Cosima and I are peers, yes, but if anything, given the amount of doors and disciplines opening up to scientific inquiry, our generation, as you say, has more grounds on which to form disagreements."
"Really?" Ms. Bowles asked, eyebrows rising incrementally. "What are these grounds? Questions of which scientific inquiries to pursue? Disagreements regarding the allocation of resources and efforts? Methodological differences? Ethical?"
"I'm not sure I can say," Delphine hedged. "I can't claim to know Cosima well beyond the work we do together in the lab."
Ms. Bowles crossed one leg over the other at the knee and bounced her suspended foot once. "You aren't curious about her?"
"It is less a question of curiosity," Delphine clarified, "and more an issue of trust."
"Yes," Ms. Bowles breathed. "Trust. So you haven't won her trust."
"It is difficult to overcome a preexisting bias," Delphine defended herself.
"Has she won your trust?" Ms. Bowles inquired with the same casual air.
Delphine fended off a frown. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you want from me. I am doing my best to address the current health concerns facing the project."
Puzzlement brushed Ms. Bowles's expression. "Surely Aldous has impressed upon you that the project is much more than just providing medical care. Do you care about her?"
"I'm sorry?" Delphine said, out of reflex.
"Do you care about Cosima?" Ms. Bowles reiterated. "About her welfare?"
"I want to see her get well," Delphine said. She added, because it was true, "I want the same for Jennifer, also."
Ms. Bowles nodded. "And the others?"
"The others? The other subjects? What about them?"
Ms. Bowles's gaze sharpened. "The other subjects in similar straits."
"There are other cases? Aside from Katja Obinger?" Delphine slumped back into her chair. "I wasn't informed."
"I see that," Ms. Bowles said, eyes concentrated on Delphine.
"Does A--Dr. Leekie know?"
Ms. Bowles separated her hands and gripped the ends of the armrests. "I know that you and Aldous are close."
"He has been a generous mentor to me," Delphine managed, noting that her question hadn't been answered, "though I would not go so far as to consider myself his protégée."
"Aldous isn't getting any younger," Ms. Bowles said easily, "and science hasn't yet stumbled upon a fountain of youth or immortality and likely won't any time soon. He has his legacy to think of."
"Does he?" Delphine wondered. "He is not preparing me very well if those are his intentions. You see the depths of my ignorance."
Ms. Bowles displayed a cool smile, gently condescending. "You're very young yet. In fact, you haven't had much exposure to the industry as a whole. Knowledge is straightforward to impart, experience harder." Ms. Bowles tipped her head fractionally. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
Delphine flashed a hesitant smile. "This is starting to sound more and more like a job interview."
"If it were," Ms. Bowles said, "what position would you like it to be for?"
Delphine's phone loosed a chime.
Ms. Bowles glanced at it first, prompting Delphine to follow suit. The temporarily lit screen gave Delphine enough time to catch Cosima's name.
"Do you want to check that?" Ms. Bowles asked.
Delphine reached for her phone and muttered, "If you'll excuse me."
From Cosima [16:38]: You can come back.
"Something that requires attending?" Ms. Bowles asked. Delphine recognized it as a proposed, acceptable exit. Before Delphine could answer, Ms. Bowles rose smoothly to her feet. Delphine followed her lead. "I'll let you get to that. But I hope that at some time in the future, you and I will have an opportunity for a much more in depth conversation."
Delphine gazed into the face of the mysterious figure. "You know where to find me."
Ms. Bowles smiled. She looked satisfied. "I do."
Delphine hesitated. "And if I would like to contact you?"
The smile deepened. A business card was procured. "We might be able to arrange something."
As Delphine took the business card, she couldn't help but wonder who might be watching, who might be noting, who there among them knew this Marion Bowles.
*
"How do they do it?" Cosima asked.
"Who? Do what?" Delphine wondered. She'd found Cosima hunkered in the corner that constituted the chill zone, the moniker more apt as an indicator of the chilliness of the occupant's demeanor. It was the mood Delphine had more or less expected to be encompassing Cosima, knowing how she'd have scoffed at an attempt to derail her career, and had it not been for Marion Bowles and her inexplicable introduction, Delphine probably would have put off returning immediately to the lab. Circumspection restricted Delphine's questions to herself and Cosima had wallowed in her space.
"How does DYAD turn people into their agents, into their monitors?" Cosima glanced at her. "Regular people."
Delphine shook her head. "I haven't been privy to the process."
Cosima shrugged. "Sometimes there's blackmail involved, I know that, but what about my ex? What was her deal? What did they tell her or offer her that made her think: 'Oh, yeah, that makes me totally cool with reporting on my girlfriend'? Did they get to her before or after she met me, before or after we got together?"
Delphine was quiet. She'd expected to hear more anger in Cosima's words, but she sounded tired, maybe scared. She was no doubt thinking about Scott Smith.
"I don't know." Delphine moistened her lips. "Aldous doesn't answer such questions when I ask him. He prefers to turn the questions around on me. He says, 'How would you do it?'"
Cosima swiveled in her chair, reclined so that her back formed the hypotenuse of a triangle of empty space between her body and the cushions, her arms pulled tight around her body, hands clasping her triceps. With her brows forming a shelf of consternation above her eyes, her gaze landed on Delphine with begrudging interest. "How would you do it?"
Delphine checked a sigh. "The actual answers tend to be the most obvious solutions. Like the patent being encoded in your genes using binary."
"Occam's razor," Cosima chimed in with a nod. She twitched an eyebrow at Delphine expectantly.
"The implementation of the monitors also seems to be the simplest solution," Delphine said. "It's extremely flexible and adaptable to your various situations and temperaments, but basic and uniform enough to provide comparable data. A plus is that the program is structured to allow the subject--you--to have the freedom of choice."
"The illusion of choice," Cosima said.
Delphine favored Cosima with a choice look.
"Alright," Cosima said, flipping up a hand in apology, "I'll stop interrupting."
"In at least one case, as far as I understand, prospects were placed in the path of a subject and she was . . . allowed to choose."
"In other words, plants are one option. Like Paul."
It took a second for Delphine's mind to recognize that "plants" did not refer to foliage. "Yes? Though I'm not familiar with Paul."
Cosima shook her head. "Doesn't matter, you're still missing a key element: How do you get the plants to participate? Paul claims he was blackmailed, that DYAD has damaging dirt on him, so he did what they asked him to. Even if they didn't tell him why."
Delphine mulled on the scenario. "To be honest, blackmail seems like a precarious proposition. Depending on how it's employed." She met Cosima's watching eyes. "Let's take the case of Paul. I assume the blackmail material is unrelated to Project Leda?" Cosima nodded. "In which case, there's little to predict or indicate if he might find the work of being a monitor more objectionable or untenable than what is being held over his head. Then you have to rely on the double blind preventing him from--oh--informing the subject of the nature of his monitor duties or defecting to some other outside outlet."
"Right," Cosima agreed. "Blackmail immediately compromises loyalty."
Delphine shrugged. "The most effective form of blackmail would probably be--well--a case like mine. Being a willing participant in itself becomes incriminating."
Cosima nodded slowly. "Akin to someone who was already positioned close to a subject being persuaded to spy on them. They agree and then the truth is so ugly that they end up needing to hide it, like, out of shame. Maybe."
Delphine nodded.
"But how do you convince someone to agree to spy on someone?" Cosima wondered. "Especially for reasons that aren't disclosed."
Delphine shook her head, at a loss. "A plausible cover story? Material rewards? Appeals to altruism? I assume you'd have to tailor each proposal to the individual case."
"So . . . everyone has a price," Cosima supplied.
Delphine appraised Cosima. "You don't think so?"
"It's more like that's what I'm worried about," Cosima muttered.
"You spoke with Scott Smith?" Delphine asked cautiously.
Cosima interlaced her fingers and pressed her palms to the top of her head. "'Talk' is a generous verb." She glanced at Delphine out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah, yeah, you told me so. He probably thinks the job sounds more lucrative and illustrious now."
"I could speak to Aldous," Delphine said, "but reluctance from me may instead act like a goad to him."
Cosima studied her. "He doesn't trust you?"
"He may no longer put much stock in my merit," Delphine acceded.
Cosima loosed an unexpected grin. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"It is . . . going fairly well," Delphine assessed.
"Given the sensitive nature of the topic," finished Cosima. She raised her hands into the air, in what have looked like a stretch if she had been stretching. "Whatever. Maybe you should go to him, spin him some tall tale about how I think Scott is a sleaze because he couldn't stop looking down my shirt."
"He did?"
"No," Cosima answered bluntly. "And now you can't tell Leekie that because you're a terrible liar."
"I am?"
Cosima smirked. "Alright. Whatever. I'm out. My concentration's shot."
"Do you need a ride?" Delphine offered, with less hesitation than she'd had in the past.
Cosima shook her head as she got to her feet. "No need to trouble yourself." She cocked her head. "Unless you're heading that way."
It was Friday, but Delphine hadn't settled any plans with Shay for the night. There was the matter of her unfinished homework assignment: Determine their weekend plans. Though it wasn't officially the weekend yet and other concerns had taken up residence in Delphine's mind. Marion Bowles. The other unknown subjects who were ill.
Avoiding Cosima's implied question, Delphine asked instead, "How do you get home when I don't drive you and if you're not using the company car service?"
"Uber," Cosima said. She grinned. "Like you said the other day, you can't stop technology."
*
From Cosima [5:05]: How do you feel about sushi?
To Cosima [5:05]: I sometimes worry if it's sustainable?
From Cosima [5:05]: I meant how do you feel about eating sushi?
To Cosima [5:06]: I eat it occasionally. I like it now and again.
From Cosima [5:06]: How do you feel about eating it now?
To Cosima [5:06]: Now?
From Cosima [5:07]: You mentioned there was Japanese nearby, didn't you?
To Cosima [5:07]: Yeah, a few places. Are u home?
From Cosima [5:07]: Yup. I can swing by.
To Cosima [5:07]: How about around 6? I'll be home around then.
From Cosima [5:08]: Sure. Let me know when you're ready and I'll come down. See you soon.
It felt early in the evening for Cosima to be home. If Shay judged by the hours Delphine kept. Shay couldn't recall ever seeing Delphine before six on a weekday and she couldn't think of a reason Cosima and Delphine wouldn't keep the same work hours. Maybe Delphine had let Cosima go early?
The notion--of Delphine exercising her authority in benevolent fashion--induced a smile at first, but then followed the realization that this was Delphine and Cosima. One of them going home early may have been an act of mercy or relief to one or both parties.
A flutter of apprehension accompanied Shay on the journey home.
But Cosima was all smiles when Shay met her in the hall downstairs.
"So I know of like one or two places that serve sushi that take about a ten-, fifteen-minute walk," Shay said. She glanced down at Cosima's footwear, which were not exactly walking shoes. "The temperature is dropping a bit, though. I don't know if you want to muster through that. We can take my car."
"I'm down for walking," Cosima said. "I can get a look around the neighborhood."
The falling temperature prevented the walk from being comfortable, but the lack of a breeze at least mitigated the addition of a chill factor. There was a liveliness in the air as they wended around other pedestrians and parties eager to start the weekend and take advantage of happy hours. Cosima kept up a running commentary on the sights and stores and Shay answered her questions and provided commentary where she could. Still, when they tumbled into the restaurant Shay's ears stung in the heat and the tip of Cosima's nose sported a touch of pink.
"What do you recommend here?" Cosima asked when they were confronted with the menu and were finished with the business of shedding outer layers.
"I have no idea," confessed Shay, picking up the menu. "I've never been here."
Cosima looked startled, then she grinned. "Alright. I'm down. Sake?"
"It's strong," Shay remarked.
"You're not driving," Cosima reminded her.
"Okay, but only if we split drinking it evenly."
"Why does that sound like it's coming from bad past experience?" Cosima asked.
"Because it is," Shay confirmed. "I feel the need to make it clear now that I'm not going to let you get away with making me finish everything."
"Why would you say that?"
"Just a vibe I get from you," Shay said.
Cosima quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of vibe?"
"You remind me of my brother. He orders too much and then he behaves like it's an act of generosity when he makes me finish all the dishes."
"He's older?" Cosima asked. Shay nodded. "Then maybe he does feel like he's doing his big brotherly duty by feeding you. Maybe he worries you don't get enough to eat."
"He could be a good big brother by listening to me when I say I don't need to eat anymore and not guilt-tripping me into finishing meals."
Cosima grinned. "The way you talk about it makes me wish I had an older brother. It'd be great to have one around when I get the munchies."
"That's not quite how big brothers work," chided Shay.
"No?" Cosima asked, cheeky. "Then I guess I didn't miss out on much." She shed the sarcasm. "Did Delphine get this warning?"
"No."
"No?"
"Delphine has a European sensibility regarding food proportions. It's never been an issue. Aside from the wine."
"As opposed to my presumably oversized American sense of proportion?" Cosima teased.
Shay smiled to herself. "As opposed to the mischief I'm seeing in your eyes right now."
Cosima laughed. "I didn't have any designs before you said something. If there's mischief there, you put it there."
Shay jerked her head to the side. "But it's still up to you to act on it."
"That's how you're going to shift blame?" Cosima scoffed. Shay abstained from responding, keeping her eyes fixed on the menu. She could hear a smile in Cosima's voice. "Alright. I see how it is. Noted. Do you have any sake preferences?"
"I'm not really versed in sake," Shay admitted.
Cosima ran her finger down the list of sake options. "Do you want sweet or more of a kick in the throat?"
Shay winced at the latter description. "Let's go with sweet."
"Nigori, then," Cosima said. "Flavored sakes can be a gamble: you never know if it's going to taste like medicinal syrup. Oh, wait, they've got a special tonight. We can have a whole 'sake flight'--three different types."
Shay smiled. "You've had a lot of sake?"
"Enough to be able to tell them apart."
"Noted," Shay said. Cosima glanced up and caught Shay's smug expression. Cosima flashed a smile. Shay browsed the menu. "What are you considering? California rolls?"
"Ha ha," Cosima drawled. "It's not even on the menu. Are California rolls a thing you'd see on a menu up here?"
"There's another restaurant down the street that has it. I didn't know this one wouldn't."
"So you've been to the other sushi place but not to this one," Cosima observed. "Why did you pick this one, then? I have to say that this is a fancier restaurant than I was expecting."
"I haven't had an excuse to come here," Shay said. "Like you said, it's fancier, and I always figured I'd want to come with someone rather than by myself. That and I remember you talking about fish quality one time. I'm hoping that the prices here reflect high standards."
"You didn't think to bring Delphine?" Cosima wondered.
"The opportunity didn't come up. There was always somewhere else to go."
"Not because sushi isn't her thing?" Cosima wondered.
"I couldn't tell you one way or another," Shay said. Sushi wasn't Shay's first choice for mode of fish consumption, partly because the aforementioned quality and price varied so radically one restaurant to the next, so the option was rarely at the forefront of Shay's mind whenever meal deliberations came up.
"In terms of sustainability," Cosima said in a casual tone, "I'm not sure this was the best bet."
"Yeah, I just noticed they don't use any farmed fish," Shay agreed. "Though that doesn't necessarily mean they're irresponsible."
Silence from Cosima met that supposition, but to her surprise Shay saw a measure of pause in Cosima's features, as if she were assessing the validity of the remark. The topic slid from further examination when Cosima asked, "Are we allowed to do the omakase without a reservation, do you think?"
Shay raised an eyebrow.
"It would save us the trouble of having to choose," Cosima pointed out. "That or we can play a game of 'who can choose the better tapas' and loser has to foot the bill."
"That sounds like a very dangerous game," Shay said. "The problem I have with that is that I don't know you well enough to know in which direction that would be dangerous."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know if you're the type of person who engages in genuine competition," Shay informed the menu, "or the type of person who goes for subterfuge and self-sabotage to wind up paying the bill."
"Dude, what even are your past experiences?" Cosima laughed. "Which one are you?"
"Depends on the situation."
"So if you were on a date," Cosima said in a leading manner.
"Depends on the woman," Shay finished, smiling.
"Alright, I acknowledge your non-answers," Cosima conceded. "How do you meet women in Toronto?"
"Me or in general?"
"Both."
"Toronto's a gay friendly place," Shay said. "There are bars and clubs. Not really my thing, though. I use a dating app sometimes."
"Which one?"
"Sapphire."
"Any good?"
"Still single," Shay announced lightly. Cosima grinned. "Which isn't a measure of whether or not the app is good, but I've yet to have real success."
Cosima nodded. "Maybe I'll look into it. I've never used a dating app before, though."
"It can be an . . . experience," Shay said diplomatically.
You're really giving it a ringing endorsement," Cosima said drily.
"Well," Shay said cautiously, "I think it's more like Tinder than anything else and I think that approach has a hard time taking off in our community."
"You mean like a casual hookup scene?"
"Well, you know, more appearance-based, swipe left, swipe right."
"Right, so . . . sort of superficial, maybe facilitating a more casual scene. Is that what you're looking for?" Cosima asked.
"No."
"So you're using the app least suited to your purpose?" Cosima teased.
"Maybe," Shay said. "Sometimes I don't even know what I want on any given day."
Cosima grinned. "Anyway, how are we going to do this?"
"I would like to choose dishes," Shay said.
"Being decisive, I like it," Cosima said.
"But I don't want to turn dinner into a competition."
"Deal," Cosima said.
*
Around the time the fourth dish made it to their table--chicken wings that piqued Cosima's curiosity and from which Shay abstained, though Cosima expounded on the simple delectable genius of just salt and pepper in Asian-style chicken wings--Shay received a message.
From Delphine [6:50]: I've decided what we will do. I will pick you up tomorrow? We could do lunch first or go early and then do lunch afterward.
Shay read the message, then reread it and stared at it for good measure, struck with a second's self-doubt that maybe the sake was affecting her reading comprehension. The message was puzzling enough that it merited immediate reply. "Sorry, excuse me," Shay told Cosima as she typed.
To Delphine [6:51]: U didnt say what we're doing.
From Delphine [6:51]: It's a surprise.
From Delphine [6:51]: But you can decide if we do lunch first or after.
Shay frowned at the screen.
To Delphine [6:52]: Which do u think is better?
From Delphine [6:52]: If we do lunch first, it will be an early lunch. If we do lunch after, it will be a late lunch.
To Delphine [6:52]: That does not answer my question.
From Delphine [6:53]: I don't think one is better or worse.
With a shake of her head, Shay put her phone aside.
Cosima, scanning her expression, asked, "Delphine?"
Shay's eyebrows flicked up. "How'd you guess?"
Cosima paused--maybe due to a sluggishness wrought by the sake, which they were consuming at a pace of a one-for-one exchange that Cosima said would guarantee they consumed equal amounts; what Shay knew for sure was that her alcohol tolerance was not what it used to be judging by the heat pooling in her ears--but then said, "It's the only name I have to throw out there." Shay smiled, conceding the truth. Cosima picked up a chicken wing. "Was she trying to nab you to get dinner?"
"No," Shay said.
"So I'm not keeping you from her right now?" Cosima asked.
"No. Why? Would you want to?" Shay asked recklessly and that was definitely the sake speaking and it was definitely mortification that made Shay freeze once her mind caught up with her mouth.
But Cosima looked thoughtful. "If that was my goal, the way to derive the most enjoyment from that would be to make sure that Delphine knows I'm here with you. But she doesn't know and I don't really care if she knows or not. That wasn't my intention tonight."
"What was your intention?" Shay asked, giving the sake rein of her tongue since it didn't seem to be doing any harm.
"Spend the night in good company."
Shay smiled crookedly. "I appreciate that you qualified that with 'good.'"
"Having good company facilitates being good company," Cosima posited.
"Were you at risk of being bad company?" teased Shay.
"To myself, maybe," Cosima said, without humor or bluster.
"Yeah?" Shay asked softly, sobered by Cosima's tone. "Why do you say that?"
Cosima shrugged. "Sometimes if I'm left to my own devices too long, I start to think too much."
"Think too much?" Shay wondered. "I assumed thinking was the default state of being for people like you and Delphine. Is there actually a threshold where it becomes too much?"
"Maybe not so much a threshold but there are certain thoughts it's better not to hole up with alone."
"Like what?" Shay asked gently.
Cosima shook her head, greasy fingers curled loosely to avoid smearing anything. "Like . . . is this all there is?"
"Is what all there is to what?" Shay asked, lost.
"Is this all there is to life?" Cosima asked plainly.
"Oh," uttered Shay, trying to shift her thoughts onto more solid ground with the philosophical pivot. "Yeah. That's--that's heavy thinking material."
Cosima fixed Shay with a look that was far too keen and sober. "Do you think there's more than just this: being born, waking, eating, sleeping, converting energy, cellular mitosis, aging, dying?"
Shay plucked an edamame from the half-depleted dish to have something to do with her hands and help her mind focus on articulation. "A lot of stuff happens on top of all that--and in between, too. Philosophers would say that's the stuff of life."
"Sure. But I'm talking about the finish line," Cosima said. "When you get there is it like hitting a wall or is there more, something after?"
"Are you asking for a definitive answer?" Shay wondered.
Cosima smiled. "I'm curious about your opinion."
"What's yours?" Shay parried.
Cosima lifted an eyebrow.
"Since you're asking," Shay amended.
Cosima's mouth pulled to the side. "I didn't expect you to be shy about this."
"Not shy," Shay said, "wary. I don't enjoy being backed into a corner."
Cosima's head cocked at an angle. "Science and metaphysics don't have to be mutually exclusive."
Shay shrugged.
Cosima nodded slowly. "Should I thank Dr. Cormier for your skittishness?"
Shay nibbled a bean out of its edamame shell. Cosima leaned forward.
"Scientific methods have been applied to test all sorts of metaphysical realities," Cosima said. "Attempts have been made to measure the weight of the soul. We try all sorts of ways to detect spirits and ghosts. Individuals and civilizations devoted a lot of time and energy and observation toward predicting when the world would end using disciplines like math and astrology."
Shay smiled to cover a laugh. "You sound like Delphine. You're just missing the punchline."
"Punchline?"
"That the science has come up with nothing."
Cosima smiled. "Depends who you ask. The human brain is . ." Cosima shook her head, waving a hand. ". . . weird. Mysterious. We don't fully understand all its processes. You know it will fill in details if it can't process everything? It's why optical illusions work. Human brains have trouble processing certain types of inputs, so to provide an impression that fits our cognitive capabilities, the brain makes assumptions based on evolutionary lessons and principles we mostly only guess at. Science can be like poking around in the dark hoping to get results that provide pictures we can make sense of. We've gotten a lot better at it but there are still so many things we don't understand. Maybe there are some things we're not ready to understand."
Shay leaned back in her chair. "I asked Delphine once if she found all those unanswered questions overwhelming. Do you?"
Cosima wiped her fingers on her napkin, eyes lowered to the task. "Only a handful of certain, very specific questions."
"Like if there's more to life than a physical existence?"
"That's actually not one of them," Cosima said softly, a little wonderingly. "It's not at the top of the list, anyway. Yet. I mean, one way or another we're all going to get the answer to that question." Cosima fingered her small sake cup. "Sooner or later."
"What do you want the answer to be?" Shay asked.
"I don't know," Cosima said. She sipped from the cup, replaced it on the table carefully, then peered at Shay through the top of her lenses. "It might depend on whether or not I feel satisfied with the time I've had when the end comes."
Shay nodded. "That's probably the typical reaction."
"What about you?" Cosima asked.
For someone who hadn't divulged much substance, Cosima seemed to expect it in return. Shay finished her edamame and shrugged. "At some point I stopped believing in a heaven or a hell. I don't think Osiris is going to measure my heart or that a valkyrie is going sweep me off my feet--though in that case I don't know if I'd complain.
"Reincarnation has its appealing points--that you get another chance, that you and the people important to you will meet again--but I think, at the very least, for me, I want to believe that we're capable of putting good energy out into the world regardless of all that. Not necessarily karma, that you're paying something off or paying something forward, but I like the sense of everything being connected." Shay ran her finger along the edge of her plate. "It makes me feel like there's a stake in trying to be a decent person." Shay shook her head. "Otherwise, what's the point?"
"The human condition," Cosima intoned.
Shay giggled, partly to vent the nervous titter in her stomach. "Right? My mom made me read . . . everything--and most of it was about the 'human condition.' But that just means we've been asking the same questions for forever, whatever we're prone to believing in any given era."
"People with too much time to think," Cosima said lightly. "They should have spent more time enjoying meals with good company."
Shay chuckled. "But if there hadn't been people who did all the overthinking already, what would my mom have given me to read growing up? And . . ." Shay said, downing the liquid in her cup of sake, "how would I have learned to recognize all the tropes of the human condition so that I could ignore them?"
Cosima refilled her cup. "Is that what you do?"
"No," Shay said, riding on the buzz in her blood, "but I try."
*
When the tops of buildings weren't obscuring it, there was a half moon in the sky throwing light onto their path on the walk back. Cosima occasionally glanced up at its pale, semi-obscured features.
"Thanks for getting dinner with me tonight," Cosima said.
"I got to try a restaurant I've been curious about, so it was an opportunity for me," Shay said.
"Are you suggesting you took advantage of me instead of the other way around?" Cosima said, smile mischievous in the moonlight.
"How is that you manage to make innocent things sound more suggestive than they were in the first place?" sniped Shay.
"If it sounds that way, I'm going to say that's all on you," Cosima declared.
Shay gave Cosima a light shove. Cosima stumbled a few steps, laughing.
"For the record," Cosima added, "you were at the top of my list for good company. Not just because you were the closest."
"Was it a very long list?" Shay asked, teasing.
"Hey, I know some people in Toronto," Cosima objected to Shay's implications. "Admittedly . . . how would you categorize people you care about, but there's a feeling that you don't know them very well, or they don't know you well, or you're not even sure you get along?"
Shay frowned. Her muddled thoughts threw out a suggestion: "Family?"
For a second, Cosima's expression slackened with befuddlement. Then she laughed, nearly into a coughing fit. Shay looked on, slightly puzzled.
"Exactly," Cosima said when she recovered. "They're like family."
*
Cosima dropped Shay off at her door. There might have been a moment, a pause, where Shay thought Cosima looked undecided, but Cosima waved and went on her way. Something about watching Cosima peel off toward the stairs and her separate quarters felt reminiscent of bidding good night to other recruits before lights out. It was a disorienting notion; Shay tended not to think about those days.
Inside her warm studio, Shay shed all her outer layers and retrieved her phone from the bottom of her bag. Delphine's last message had accrued no additional commentary since Shay had abandoned their exchange. Shay flopped into the single seater, hanging her legs over the arm.
To Delphine [8:03]: How about u cone over tomorrow morning, we have brunch at my place, and then we can go on adventures?
From Delphine [8:05]: What time should I come over?
To Delphine [8:05]: 9? 10?
From Delphine [8:05]: 9:30?
Shay smiled.
To Delphine [8:06]: That'll work.
From Delphine [8:06]: OK. I will come over at 9:30.
Shay melted into the seat. She should drink a glass of water. Or two. The languor was departing or settling in, the sake working its way out of her bloodstream, but her digestive system gearing up to conduct serious work. If she didn't move, sleepiness would keep her anchored lazily in the spot.
To Delphine [8:07]: How was it day?
From Delphine [8:07]: Interesting.
To Delphine [8:08]: Interesting like cool top secret stuff happened born interesting like someone sent u a funny work email?
Shay blinked at her screen.
To Delphine [8:08]: or*
To Delphine [8:08]: Sorry. I may have had too much to drive.
To Delphine [8:08]: drink*
Shay powered down the phone, got to her feet, and slipped the device into her back pocket, even as it loosed a series of alerts. She made her way to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water that she downed in one go. She refilled the glass and leaned against the island.
From Delphine [8:09]: Interesting in that it seems like more people know of me than I was aware.
From Delphine [8:09]: Make sure to drink water.
From Delphine [8:09]: And perhaps eat something if you haven't.
To Delphine [8:11]: Being known sounds like a good thing?
From Delphine [8:11]: Have to wait and see. How are you feeling?
To Delphine [8:12]. I'm fine. at home.
From Delphine [8:12]: How was your day?
To Delphine [8:12]: OK.
Shay smiled to herself.
To Delphine [8:12]: Now I'm feeling lazy.
From Delphine [8:13]: What does a lazy Shay do?
To Delphine [8:13]: Read. Browse the Internet. Sleep.
To Delphine [8:13]: What does a lazy Delphie so?
From Delphine [8:14]: The same. I used to smoke as well.
Shay grimaced.
From Delphine [8:14]: You probably made a face when you read that.
To Delphine [8:14]: Maybe.
From Delphine [8:14]: It's okay. It was better I quit sooner rather than later.
To Delphine [8:15]: There was a lot of smoking in the military. That's mostly what it reminds me of.
To Delphine [8:15]: Bored soldiers killing time.
To Delphine [8:15]: That probably wasn't u.
From Delphine [8:16]: Yes. I was never a soldier, just a medical student.
Shay shook her head.
To Delphine [8:16]: I meant bored.
From Delphine [8:16]: I was that. Sometimes.
Shay's mind supplied the words in Delphine's voice, but it couldn't decide on the tone: dry sarcasm or sly revelation.
To Delphine [8:16]: So being a med student wasn't like Greys Anatomy?
From Delphine [8:17]: I don't know what that means.
To Delphine [8:17]: It's a show. U can watch it in Netflix.
From Delphine [8:17]: Maybe something I might watch if someone watched with me.
The suggestion plucked a chord the alcohol had unearthed and left open to exposure. Shay envisioned Cosima at the door, that moment Shay thought might have been hesitation, and balked at her own impulse to tell Delphine to come over, to be close, to fill the studio with her presence--
To ward off the livewire surge of loneliness.
Shay scoffed at herself. At the way she strategically failed to mention Cosima or that night's dinner. At the way she wanted to carry on this inconsequential thread of communication with Delphine if it meant maintaining a flimsy connection, grasping at a sense of immediacy and intimacy through a piece of inanimate, remote hardware as if it could substitute for the contact she'd failed to find for so long.
A weight dragged at Shay's heart, a tug at the bottom of her brain that threatened to bring it plunging and sinking, familiar and dismaying.
She couldn't dwell on this. She knew what lay down that trajectory.
To Delphine [8:18]: I'll see u tomorrow.
From Delphine [8:18]: 9:30.
To Delphine [8:18]: Yes. Good night.
From Delphine [8:18]: Bonsoir.
The messenger closed with a tap. Simple and instantaneous. If only her mind were capable of the same and Shay could have put a stop to all the mental processes that kept her cognizant and plagued by the awareness that Delphine lurked just a tap on a touchscreen away.
//
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