Three pri-sec agents watched Kamala from the comfort of their air-conditioned, bulletproof booth as she sat, waiting on one of the two available chairs in the tiny, utilitarian foyer. Other companies went out of their way to make visitors seem welcome, perhaps even astonished at the architectural design of their building and the not so subtle flex of the money spent to build it. Maybe Kurniec didn’t care what others thought about his buildings or even his hospitality. A water cooler to quench a parched throat would have been nice, though. She gripped the plastic folder containing her induction documents with white-knuckled excitement. This day was the culmination of more than a decade’s study in the field of bio-engineering. She was here, in the belly of Kemprex itself, waiting on her new boss to lift the veil and show her into the secretive research facility that had transformed the world in five short years. She herself had several Kemprex patents fitted – an optic unit, a civilian grade memory bank and the highly controversial neuro-chem detection and delivery system. As a bio-engineer herself, it was a no-brainer. For all of the moral and ethical quandaries raised by the efficient system, not many people could look you in the eye and say they wanted to feel pain. It was also something of a toy for her. Some people obsessed over football or expensive watches or cars. She adored bio-engineered implants.

The security door swung open, scattering her thoughts. A man in his thirties strutted through, dancing to an unknown song playing on his sub-dermal implants. He stopped in front of Kamala, his eyes going distant for a moment as he turned off the mental soundtrack.

“Kamala?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling assuredly.

“Yes,” she said, getting to her feet.

“I’m Dan. Dan McCarthy,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’ll be showing you around this morning.”

“I’m Kamala…” she replied nervously.

Dan gave her an odd smile in reply. “I know… Anyway… Let’s take you through and into the labs,” he said heading back toward the door. He held an extendable security card up to a scanner. The lock made an audible click. “We’ll go the long way, so I can show you around.”

Kamala tucked the induction papers under her elbow and followed through the door that Dan held open. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the security agents watching her through the glass, their stony faces turning in unison to follow her like some creepy version of a carnival game. Dan walked past a wide stainless-steel elevator shaft. Kamala read its metal face plate, showing that there were four levels.

“Not the last security door, I’m afraid. There’s a pass waiting for you at your desk, along with a stack of NDA’s to sign. You understand, right?”

Kamala nodded to her guide, her attention drawn to the open offices surrounding her. It was surprisingly well ventilated and open for an underground complex. Soft LED light illuminated individual desks to each worker’s taste. The walls and cubicles were a mix of concrete, wood and glass. Geodesic designs were etched into the wall panels and carpet. Kamala recognised some chemical compounds in their shapes.

“This is HR and accounting. You probably won’t spend much time in here unless you sexually harass the wrong person or make a joke in poor taste…” said Dan laughing at himself. “Legal is down that hall. Some other departments are down that one. None of this will probably matter to you. The real meat and potatoes are down a level.”

He led her to a set of tiled stairs which wound down. The next level opened out to a common area for the laboratory staff and researchers to have their lunch breaks and informal meetings. A dozen or so people in lab coats sat around plain white tables or foam couches drinking coffee. “Rest rooms down there. Kitchen is over there,” pointed Dan as he guided her through the room.

Kamala was distracted by two security guards patrolling the hallway ahead. Both were armoured in black polycarbonate military suits and wore an array of weapons on their utility belts. “Is that common?” she asked, pointing at the two men.

Dan looked where she was pointing. He turned back to her, his friendly smile slipping to something more like a grimace. “A precaution, yes.”

“What for? Is there an epidemic of stationary going missing?” laughed Kamala.

Dan shook his head, his smile erased. “If only. Look… how much do you know about this facility?”

Kamala looked at him sideways. The conversation was taking an abrupt turn. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. How do you think we’ve developed the lion’s share of our patents so far? The gene therapy, the cures for every disease imaginable… the bio-engineered whatsits Kemprex has flooded the market with. Who do you think is responsible for all of that?”

Kamala shrugged. “Kurniec? Doctor Yelich? Those two are the brains behind the company aren’t they?”

Dan bounced his head, halfway between a yes and a no. “They take all the credit, yes. But who grows them? Who develops them first?”

“You? Us?” asked Kamala, gesturing with her hands.

Dan sighed. “Sign those NDAs and we can talk.”

He led Kamala to her office, a boxy thing with little room for her desk, computer and chair. True to Dan’s word there was an access card on a lanyard and a stack of papers for her to sign.

“Do I need my lawyer to look at these?” she asked.

“If you need to,” shrugged Dan. “Or you can sign them and I can show you what’s behind the curtain.”

Kamala hesitated. She didn’t trust any company as far she could throw them, especially one as powerful and influential as Kemprex. On the other hand, this was her dream job. She was eager to get stuck in and make her own discoveries.

“I’ll sign,” she said.

“I knew you would,” said Dan, smiling again. “I’ve put highlights on all the places…”

They were in the elevator, descending to the next level, which was much further down than she anticipated. Dan had shown her to the level two labs where she would spend most of her time researching. Once she had proven herself she’d be allowed into the ‘Adults Room’, as Dan put it, to do more hands on work and perhaps develop her own patents. They were going there now for a sneak-peak.

“Why so deep?” she asked to pass the time.

Dan looked at her from opposite the elevator. “You remember the Programmed Children debacle from five years back?”

Kamala nodded her head. “Who could forget? The world went crazy over those first couple of months. Then it all just kinda became normal. Sanctioned heroes and everything. It was lucky there were so few.”

“Yeah… Crazy times, alright,” said Dan, his eyes tracing the ceiling of the elevator as he recalled the past. “Kurniec must have skin like steel to get through that intact. Or friends in very high places. Anyway... There were more than a handful of kids who were affected. Try every kid sired by a Mark 1 or 2 Pro. A lot of those kids wound up here, in chemically induced comas, while we tried to figure out a way of putting the crazy back into the bottle. We’re close to finding an answer, but every kid is different. Some have gone home. Others have stayed.”

Kamala felt a stirring of revulsion in her stomach. “You mean there are more? And you’ve just got them… locked away?”

Dan looked at her, his eyes steel hard. “Those kids were a hazard to each and every person on this planet. They didn’t know what they were capable of. How dangerous their actions could be… the consequences. We’re doing our best to fix our mistakes. We keep them in comas to maintain everyone’s safety, theirs included.”

Kamala could see Dan was becoming more defensive as he spoke. She thought it best to disarm the conversation and reserve her judgment until she knew more. “Okay, okay… But what do the Pro kids have to do with your research?”

Dan ran his hand through his hair again. “We found a kid, the ‘Golden Goose’ of discoveries, who can manipulate his body on a cellular level. He’s the one responsible for all of this,” he said, gesturing around the elevator. “All of our developments have come from him. Grown by him at our direction.”

“One kid?” she asked. “One kid is responsible for Kemprex’s success?”

“Yep. If you can dream it. He can make it,” said Dan.

“And is he in a coma?” she asked jokingly.

Dan’s face contorted in a grimace. “Kind of.”

The elevator slowed to a gentle thud as it stopped. The doors opened. Kamala peered out.

“Come and see him. Them…” said Dan, leading the way past a duo of guards holding sub-machine guns.

Kamala thought she had misheard the last statement as Dan led them into a corridor of sterile laboratories divided by thick glass. “Them?”

“Yes. Them,” he said pointing.

She peered through the glass into the first room. A metal bed sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by banks of monitoring equipment. On the bed lay a boy in his mid-teens, seemingly asleep. An alien growth clung to his naked chest. A man dressed in a hazmat suit walked around the sleeping boy, ticking boxes on a tablet in his hands. Dan and Kamala moved on to the next lab where she saw a similar sight. The same boy on a bed, his chest clamped open to expose his organs. Several people in hazmat suits crowded around him, their sealed hands dripping with blood.

“How?” whispered Kamala, her thoughts a mixture of wonder and disgust.

“We cloned him,” replied Dan. “That way we could increase our research time by a hundred fold.”

She pressed a hand against the glass to steady herself. “That’s… fucked up.”

Dan stood in front of her. “This kid has progressed the human race by a factor of a million. We had the cure for AID’s in a matter of days. The cure for cancer? A week. Everything we do with this kid is bulletproof. Safe for general consumption. He has the answer to everything.”

Kamala looked away. “But can he feel anything? Is he awake? Did he consent to this shit?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t want to know. But think of the lives he’s saved. Think of all the people who have benefited directly from him. That’s how I like to think of things.”

Kamala shuddered. Her dream of working for Kemprex was souring by the minute - the gloss of their achievements tarnished by the knowledge that it was built on the suffering of someone - multiple versions of someone. Could she honestly work here, knowing how they operated? Dan was right. He had lifted the curtain and she didn’t like what she saw.

“This is wrong. So wrong,” said Kamala, shaking her head as she caught glimpses of strange organs being removed from the boy’s open chest cavity.

Dan nodded his head slowly. “I understand. There is one more person you need to meet first. He will change your mind.”

“I fucking doubt it,” whispered Kamala.

“He’ll be around here somewhere,” replied Dan, turning his back on her. “Say his name and he’ll just appear. It’s like magic. Isn’t that right Billy?”

A sickly looking youth came around a corridor just as his name left Dan’s lips. He looked tired and hung-over, walking with an almost exaggerated slouch. Sweat beaded his balding forehead and heavy, ringed eyes rode above his gaunt cheeks. His eyes locked onto Kamala, boring into her with the intensity of a junkie on a methamphetamine kick. “Fresh meat, Dan?” he asked without preamble.

“Kamala Shan. New engineer,” said Dan, introducing her. “She’s having doubts about the work we do here.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders, the gesture almost asking who isn’t. “Tell her some more. I’ll be doing my thing.”

The youth pressed ahead walking, swaying down the corridor of laboratories.

Dan motioned for Kamala to follow. Kamala sighed but begrudgingly followed her guide. She would get the hell out of here as soon as this tour was over.

“They’re all connected,” explained Dan as he walked in the direction that Billy had taken. “The Clones, that is. Earlier on we found that it taxed young Billy too much if each clone had brain activity. Also the primogenitor or whatever you’d call him was way more efficient if he was in control. Something to do with mental maturity. I can’t remember. Billy is the expert on that.”

Kamala found herself nodding her head. “Wow...”

“Yeah,” agreed Dan. “We’ve also got to cycle the really invasive stuff, otherwise it can overload the prime. Too much stimulation isn’t good for him. Starts thrashing about. Some of the clones may even start screaming.”

Kamala frowned. She couldn’t remember why, but she was angry. What Dan was saying had her hooked, however, and she wanted to know more. “That’s fascinating. Where is this prime? Can I see him?”

“Down a level, amongst the top-shelf military stuff. Shit you don’t get to see until you’ve proven yourself,” said Dan, slapping her on the back.

Kamala grinned back at him. “Oh, I will.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Dan, giving the thumbs up to Billy.

Kamala blinked. She had forgotten something - something important. She looked at Dan then over to Billy who was further ahead. “What does that kid do?” she whispered.

Dan leaned close to her. “He’s a telepath. See, drugs don’t work on the Golden Goose. They wear off or he becomes immune. That’s where Billy comes in. He is the second most important person in this facility bar the Goose himself. He keeps all those clones immobile with his brain juju.”

Kamala listened with wide-eyed attention. “That is so cool,” she breathed.

“Isn’t it,” agreed Dan. “Now let’s introduce you to the team you’ll be working with…”