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he
already knew the answer . “No one’s allowed access, right?”
    “No one but us.”
Dr. Fairchild gave him barest hint of a smile, more a sparkle in her eyes than
a curve of her mouth. “You’re right. Since the Moratorium Act, those neuromaps
have been restricted to prevent unauthorized continuance. By law, they’re kept
in a secure DIA database called Arkive. But the Chariot project’s been granted
an exemption to that restriction, and we’ll be using Arkive data to calibrate
the imaging device.”
    Jason felt a
grin spread across his face. Sanctioned access to Arkive – something Alex and Chrysalis
could never match. A joyride on autonav.
    “Of course, this
will all be done under strict security protocols,” Dr. Fairchild said.
    Jason’s grin
slipped a little. Strict security protocols? He’d planned for data monitoring
and oversight – audits and the like, but this sounded like something else
entirely.
    The professor
gestured toward the door behind them. A man in a dark suit stood just inside,
arms crossed. Jason hadn’t noticed him come in. At Dr. Fairchild’s prompt, he
unfolded from his place by the door – a motionless gargoyle coming to life. As
he approached, he swept eyes hidden behind dark smartglasses across Jason and
the others in slow, systematic arcs. The glasses looked more rugged than
Jason’s Ray Bans, with thick angular frames packed with photonics and sensors. The
effect reminded Jason of an insect, or…a spider . A DIA Agent.
    No.
    Dr. Fairchild
spoke. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce Agent Lindsay Grieves.”
     
    It was midmorning by the time
class let out, and Jason left the Novella building in a daze. Shoving his smartglasses
on, he called up some music, cranking the volume with an annoyed flick of his
finger at the visual overlay. The song had been old even when he first heard
it, and usually brightened his mood. But not today.
     
    It’s all the
same. Only the names will change.
    Every day it
seems we’re wasting away.
     
    He strode around slower students,
shaking his head to himself every few yards as he wrestled with this new complication.
The project files – including the ones he’d hacked – hadn’t mentioned thing one
about direct DIA oversight. Worse, the spiders would have a security presence
monitoring access to the lab. Full time, 24/7. The energizing certainty he’d
felt just that morning had disintegrated the minute that agent, Grieves, had
walked through the door.
    Too close. Too
close. Even
the thought felt confused. Too close to the spiders to risk going on? Or too
close to Arkive and Michelle to turn back now? He didn’t know.
    With a start, Jason looked up,
surprised to find himself standing still in front of a bronze statue. Rising
ten feet from a marble pedestal and ringed by a circular bench, it depicted a
young woman in a floor-length formal gown, her head tilted to one side over the
violin she cradled in her left hand. Her right hand was frozen in the act of
drawing a bow across the strings, the expression on her face implying a single,
emotion-filled note. Whether it was sad or serene was impossible to say. Sunlight
played off the burnished highlights in her flowing bronze hair.
    Letting his eyes drift down, he stared
at the empty bench encircling the pedestal, thinking about what Alex had said
earlier. Inside or outside, if you get caught, it doesn’t matter. The
prospect left a tense, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. But in the
end, having the spiders around changed nothing .
    I’ll just have
to be a very clever fly.

Chapter 4 ∞
Butterflies
     
    2012
     
    Michelle Baxter sat on a circular
bench, the bronze statue on the pedestal behind her casting the long shadow of
a violinist on the grass in the morning sun. This early on a Saturday, she had
the bench to herself, sharing it only with her cello case, a black and bulky thing
standing beside her like a deformed monolith. A pleasant spring breeze carried
the fresh scent of