A/N: This story comes before Remedial and Reckoning, and is the first in the series.
The sound of the door opening made several heads turn. A brunette woman stood there on crutches, noticing the small gathering. Her lips setting into a thin line, she entered.
"Hey, Mika," a slight woman pulled up a chair for her, smiling.
"Thank you," Mikhaila Ilyushina told her, somewhat gingerly sitting down as she rested her crutches against the conference table. Seeing that Mika needed no further help, Danielle Sho sat next to her.
Gazing momentarily leftward, Mika's eyes settled on the stalwart, severe face of Sarah Elazar, the security chief, who gave her a nod.
At the table's other end stood two men.
Dayo Igwe seemed to be lost in thought, staring off somewhere to the side, one hand propping his chin, the other holding that arm's elbow from below.
Then there was the man who had called them all here in the first place, standing with hands behind back as he had been following Mikhaila's entrance. Alex Yu cut quite an imposing figure as ever, though the last few years had taken a toll on him. Visibly older, the beginnings of gray on his temples, his TranStar uniform also showed its age, being faded and worn.
For a minute, a frosty silence reigned as the three women considered their former CEO, staring daggers across the table.
If Alex was perturbed, he did not let it show. Instead, he cleared his throat, preparing to tell them just why they had been called here.
Splaying his hands and gathering them back together, Alex spoke. "Thank you all for coming," his tone was amiable.
Dr. Igwe inclined his head, but the others' reactions were not as welcoming. Still standing, Sarah folded her arms, frowning at Alex. Danielle made something between a grin and a grimace, baring her teeth. Mikhaila merely stared back at him evenly, finally asking, "Why are we here?"
Facing her, Alex let out a long breath. He decided to cut to the chase. "There may be a way for us to survive the Typhon. In fact, we may be able to end the Typhon threat once and for all," he declared.
Mikhaila's eyes widened.
Sarah's eyes narrowed.
"What?!" Danielle sputtered.
Alex merely looked back placidly.
Sarah sighed. "Why do I get the impression that the proposed 'solution' will somehow make matters worse?"
"This one's not one of mine," Alex pointed out. "It's Morgan's old idea."
"And that's somehow supposed to be better?!" Danielle queried heatedly.
But Mikhaila looked thoughtful, fiddling with her fingers. "Morgan's? What was it about?"
"Don't bite," Danielle advised in a low voice. Mikhaila merely kept looking at Alex expectantly.
Alex took in a breath, readying for an explanation. However, Igwe beat him to it. "May I?" the doctor addressed Alex. Blinking, the ex-CEO nodded and extended a hand, giving Igwe the floor.
"As you know," the neuroscientist began, "our experiments aboard Talos I focused on researching the Typhon, and applying that research for human use—"
"You mean using humans as guinea pigs and food for Typhon," Danielle interrupted venomously.
"Well—" Igwe tried.
But Danielle pressed on. "'Cause if you're gonna pitch for more of that, there's no way in hell I'm gonna stand for it! Unless…," Danielle's voice turned silky and she grinned toothily, "unless you and Alex would like to volunteer as Typhon chow. Now that, I can get behind."
"Look," Alex took a step forward, gesticulating lively, "We all know what happened, and what we did. But that was then; this project, this is different," his tone seemed earnest.
"Really?" Sarah's tone was rather skeptical.
"Really," Alex replied quietly. "There will be no human test subjects here. In fact…" he paused for a moment, "rather than trying to modify humans using Typhon derivatives, we would be changing the Typhon to be more like us."
For a minute, the women just stared at him.
"I knew this was a bad idea," Sarah muttered, shaking her head.
"No, in fact…," Igwe spoke up animatedly, "The principle is sound. Just like Typhon structures can be adapted to the human brain, it is likely that elements of our neural framework can be implanted into the Typhon."
"And why should we do that?" Mikhaila inquired coolly.
"Empathy," Alex exclaimed, complete with thrusting an index finger. That drew the audience's gazes.
"It's the one thing they completely lack," Alex explained. "They can't see us as anything other than a food source. But that's where mirror neurons come in. The neuron type responsible for empathy and learning. If we're successful at implanting those into them… we may be able to begin to change them at a fundamental level. And given the nature of the Coral and their collective, even one Typhon that understands us could be a game-changer, perhaps even a bridge between our species."
"So let me get this straight," Danielle's mouth was ajar, "you want to make the Typhon understand us better? To enable them to predict us and be more capable of learning? To what… give them another edge?! You really are insane," she shook her head in disbelief.
"No. I want them to see us for who we are, as people worth preserving and deserving of life," Alex countered.
"We will still be their food source," Sarah pointed out.
"Yes, however…" Igwe began, "Consider that we humans eat animals to survive. That does not mean we eat all of them, or aim to destroy them; some of us have, in fact, attempted to move to a herbivore diet. And the driving factor for that has been our… empathy."
Mikhaila had been gently tapping the table. Now she spoke up. "You talk about… empathy," her tone was calm and even, unlike Danielle's contemptuous disbelief and Sarah's skeptical sharpness. "But what I see is two men who have shown none of it to the victims of their experiments, trying to convince us of the virtues of implanting empathy — as if it is some magic potion — into an alien species that may somehow have even less of it. All based on the project of yet more people who had a fundamental lack of empathy. Now tell me," for the first time, a cold anger seemed to creep into her voice, "why we should listen to a single word you say." Her gaze burned into one man, then the other.
Alex took a long breath. "Because…" he replied dejectedly, "we're out of options."
"We are still alive," Sarah said, "and I am not inclined to go chasing wild geese, especially when there is risk involved."
"There won't be," Alex promised. "We can do it outside the facility, using every available precaution." He made a reassuring motion with his hands, splaying them sideways.
"I've seen quite enough of your 'precautions'," Sarah air-quoted, "and the catastrophic consequences of their failures. At best, you would divert our time and efforts to some long-shot project with no guarantee or even likelihood of success. At worst, you'll get us all killed, which you nearly have managed already," she emphasized.
"Well, the only person who could die from this would be me," Alex retorted. "You'll be safe, as will be the rest of the complex."
"How can you ensure that?" Sarah inquired doubtfully.
"As I said, by using a separate facility…," Alex paused, seemingly hesitating, "and by utilizing Operators."
"And we should what, just trust your famously good intentions?" Danielle snorted. Addressing the other two women, she said, "Watch, next he'll make us a 'Yu promise'." She smiled mockingly at that.
Alex sighed in frustration, eyes closing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Could we please hear out the rest of Dr. Yu's proposal with an open mind?" Igwe implored.
The response came from Mikhaila. "After everything the two of you have done… to Morgan, to the Volunteers, to my father…" her voice broke slightly, and she continued with emotion, "I cannot trust anything that comes from you."
"Damn right," Danielle agreed darkly.
Sarah's stony glare at Alex and Dayo Igwe spoke her thoughts even though she did not say a word.
"So don't," Alex said simply.
"Excuse me?" Mikhaila asked, befuddled.
"Don't trust me. Or Igwe."
The engineer blinked, not comprehending what the man was getting at.
"I understand your lack of trust. It's well deserved," Alex acknowledged to doubting looks. "The three of you may be the people here who trust me the least. But that's precisely why you're the perfect candidates for working on this project with me. You… can keep an eye on things, making sure that we're doing it right," he pumped his hand forward quickly for emphasis, his expression one of determination.
Danielle blinked, and rapidly shook her head yet again.
Sarah tilted her head, squinting. "And how would we do that, if we are not present? Remote oversight would not be sufficient for this."
Alex nodded. "January," he uttered cryptically.
"What?"
"January," he repeated. "Morgan gave me the idea. Back during the experiments she went through, Morgan created operators, ones infused with her own connectome, whom she could trust to carry out her will."
"We know, we were there. But need I remind you who destroyed January?" Sarah pointed out, smoldering chestnut eyes boring into his.
"No," Alex took a breath. "But the point is, we would need Operators, with their unique abilities… and we can have Operators which would keep the project in check, and terminate it if necessary. Operators based on the people in this room," he indicated the aforementioned space by sweeping his hands outward.
"You can't be serious," Danielle blurted. "You want me to copy myself into an Operator and send it off with you?!"
"Yes," Alex confirmed.
"I cannot do as you ask," a guarded Mikhaila said. "Even simply because I have paraplexis. I cannot provide my connectome, and it cannot be installed."
Alex literally handwaved it away. "Nah, that's just TranStar company policy, intended as a safeguard for neuromod transfer. But we don't work for TranStar anymore, and no one's at risk. You can do it just like any of us," he assured Mikhaila.
Igwe spoke up. "The paraplexis will very likely carry over to the Operator, given that the neural image remains the same" he added, "but perhaps we can compensate for it, at least for the experiment's duration."
"But I am still not convinced that this is worth it," Mikhaila noted. "Even without the thought of sending what would be my own twin to work with you. Those Operators would have our own minds. In a way, they would be us."
"Yes, but that's the minimum risk we have to take," Alex argued. "And it would let you stay here, rather than leave for an unknown amount of time. That said… I think the chance to be successful in the end is well worth it. We're doing this to save humanity, to bring us back from the brink."
"Knowing you, there's an angle here you're not telling us about," Danielle was suspicious.
"If you don't trust my intentions, trust Morgan," he replied. "It was her proposal, and she saved us all once already."
"After a fashion," Sarah murmured.
"Besides… as I said, you'd be there as Operators, able to put a stop to things if you disagree with the direction. And I can't imagine more unforgiving overseers than the three of you," Alex assured them.
For a long minute, quiet descended onto the wood-paneled conference room. Tense looks across the table would give way to meaningful yet uncertain ones between colleagues… and back again.
"So… what do you say?" Alex seemed to have an undertone of… hopefulness? He clasped his hands together.
"I believe the project has merit," Igwe responded immediately.
The seconds stretched, until Sarah finally spoke up. "If we are to do this… if… I would want to know the details of everything — what you intend to do, every possible way this could go wrong, the countermeasures that will be taken and their backups, all of it," her voice had become downright menacing, "and if I find out that you are cutting any corners with safety… so help me god, I will come and personally feed you to a Typhon."
Alex blinked. "Deal."
"I am only considering this because we truly are out of options," Sarah added.
Alex and Igwe then turned to consider the two women seated at the table. Danielle, her countenance still irate, looked toward Mikhaila, who was gazing at nothing in particular, her hand on her chin.
"I will want to see all those safety measures first," Mikhaila began, "then, if Sarah and Danielle agree, I will participate. But only if both of them do," she reiterated with determination.
Now all eyes were on a frowning Danielle, who seemed to be rather displeased at the situation. She gave a low growl, followed by her own conclusion. "I'll be designing and building those Operators," she stated, fiery eyes boring straight into Alex's, "and making damn sure that the security measures are so fucking watertight that not so much as a stray Phantom fart gets through," she promised. "And that… ain't negotiable in the slightest, buddy."
"Agreed," Alex nodded. Danielle's eyes narrowed.
After a beat, Alex put his hands together with a clap. "Well then, I think we're done for today." A slight smile creasing his face, he added, "Soon, we'll make the first step towards making things right again. As much as we can, that is."
"You will never be able to undo the damage you have done," Mikhaila said glumly as she carefully rose to her feet.
Alex's eyes were downcast. "No. I won't. But we can try to stop more of it from happening."
The three women did not seem convinced… but they did not say anything in disagreement, either. As they filed out, Alex was left with Igwe.
A minute later, the former Psychotronics doctor addressed his one-time employer. "I noticed you did not mention that you plan to use Morgan's connectome for the Project," Igwe said placidly, no judgment in his voice.
"That would've been too much," Alex replied. "I'm mildly amazed they even agreed to this."
"You can be a convincing man," Igwe noted, fixing the position of his golden glasses. "I would have likely ended up antagonizing them, somehow."
"Being the president of the company for as long as I was, you learn a few things," Alex said. "Like when to push, and when to hold back."
Igwe nodded. "Still, I can't imagine that they will take it well when they discover that we will be implanting Morgan's mind into the Typhon."
"By the time that comes around, they'll be ready. We'll make sure of it." Alex let out a long breath. "All in due time, Dayo," he mused, "all in due time."