Eve & Adam (Eve & Adam 1)

– 17 –

Sneaking back in is easier than I imagined. Still, the whole thing’s left me feeling agitated, tired, confused.

Solo rolls me to the clinic, where they’ve apparently been a bit frantic, what with having misplaced the boss’s daughter. Fortunately, my mother’s been at the spa all day. She is unreachable when she’s being detoxified, rejuvenated, or antiaged.

“I was just touring the place,” I assure Dr. Anderson.

“You should be in bed,” he chides. “You are in no condition to be touring.”

Or chasing down gangbangers, I add silently.

Once the staff is properly reassured, Solo wheels me to the workstation where Project 88715 is set up. I’ve begun to think of it as “my” workstation. My project.

The overhead lights are dimmed, but the twinkle lights on the giant ficus are lit. No one’s around.

I clear my throat. “Thanks,” I say. “For helping with Aislin.”

“No problem.” Solo shoves his hands in his pockets. “Hey, you hungry? I can run down to the cafeteria, see what’s lying around.”

“No, I’m good. Too wired.”

“You think Aislin will show up?”

“No,” I say. “I can’t compete with Maddox’s allure.”

Solo laughs, stares at his shoes. “You’re all right. But you’re no Maddox.”

The tension in the car seems to have passed. Good. We can pretend it never happened.

I sign in, tap a few keys, and suddenly, a giant pair of blue eyes—Solo’s eyes—float before us. “Adam awaits,” I say.

“Adam, huh?”

“That’s what Aislin named him. Could be Steve, though. Work in progress.”

Solo locks my wheelchair into place. “Okay, then,” he says. “Night.”

“Night. And thanks again.”

I feel strangely alone when he’s gone. Various machines hum softly, but otherwise, it’s utterly quiet.

The eyes throb gently, casting a blue moon glow over my desk.

I should probably work on the rest of Adam’s face. Those eyes need a home, after all.

I consult the screen, scanning my options. The software gives me a little flexibility. After a few minutes of hesitation, I click “hands.”

I don’t know why. I tell myself it’s because opposable thumbs are so important to Homo sapiens. Tool use and all that.

It sounds profound in my head.

The face? That’s just cosmetics, really. Hands, though, well, hands do things. Hands create.

I’m getting pretty good with the software now. When it flashes a warning to me about blood supply, I remember how to hook the virtual hands to the temporary virtual blood supply. The software shifts view subtly, just as it did with the eyes, and the hands assume an eerie reality.

Hands. With tubes streaming blood back and forth.

Hands, floating in a medium of some sort, approximately two and a half feet below the eyes which, likewise, float in nothingness.