Chapter Text
"Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge, and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be his world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow."
Frankenstein - Mary Shelly
And did you know when you go, it's the perfect ending
To the bad day, I'd gotten used to spending
When you go, all I know is you're my favorite mistake
You're my favorite mistake
My Favourite Mistake - Sheryl Crow
Oksana Astankova is a complicated mistake in a long line of perfection.
Her name echoes in the halls of any Enhanced Genetics Facility. It still surprises Eve Polastri that her colleagues are struggling to comprehend a simple reality of science. No matter how careful the method, limitless the resources or pure the ideals, human physiology and mechanics are still unknowable quantities in a small portion of the population. The fact human epigenetics are almost routinely the subject of manipulation is beside the point, as much as some scientists believe themselves infallible nothing is further from the truth, especially in this field.
As with most scientific dilemmas, the ideals and belief systems are pure. The human populations are under increasing pressure from both climate extremes and exploding rates of disease and decay in younger ages. Genetics is becoming one of the faster-growing fields and out of the intention to treat diseases genetically came the idea to 'improve' immune and climate function. The human body doesn't hold up well against permanent droughts and floods conditions. If there was a way to enhance capacity than all the better.
Naturally, there were plenty of moral and philosophical objections to designing humans. However, scientific communication makes almost as many advances as science. There is a careful publicity strategy around the potential and limits of the undertaking. Most of the foundation processes begin in individual countries before the foundation of a global hub in the UK. The home of Gregor Mendel and his fake pea experiments is surprisingly resistant to the whims and vagaries of recession.
The first generation of 'Enhanced Humans' was entering young adulthood and facing the real test of all that engineering, in the form of trips to hostile parts of the planet and turning their blood and immunity against the most complex problems. Theoretically, this could be done in secret away from the prying eyes, but it becomes impractical when many resources, countries and people are in play.
Eve Polastri never dreams her interest in genetics and potential treatments will lead her to this area of science even in a small way. She still thinks this is one of the best times to be part of the plan, even if its the worst time to be a member of the human race.
"I can't stand watching the 'Dying Planet and Population’ stuff on the news, and you are at the front lines," Elena says admiringly.
"As nothing but an extremely obscure footnote whose contribution about 12 people on the face of the planet will know about, much less read." Eve offers a standard.
Niko cannot understand if her role is no minor and not that different from a post-doc research position why such a programme and the timing is still costing them their marriage, one cancelled date at a time.
***
The government isn't creating mutants in the proverbial basement.
For decades secret experiments were the prevailing belief when this technology (manipulating human genes and potential) become a feature of the everyday medical landscape. The initial tinkering occurs well outside any public or oversight security, but the undercover approach was only a temporary solution.
The urgency of the problem forces social media and citizen scientists make some level of accountability essential to continue. Britain was still a functional democracy and even the most necessary political realities is that this a collective crisis. There is a difference between conducting activities in public and revealing all the salient details.
When she first joins the company, she signs enough NDAs to kill a tree or two and Eve still has nightmares about going head to head with the Human Resources Department. There is a public-facing branch of the department and a private one. This fact extends to most employees have readily available employment profiles, complete with lab websites. The internal work stays far out of sight.
Eve Polastri is on the fringes of this project and ordinarily wouldn't have anything to do with the Enhanced Subjects such as Oksana, Codename Villanelle. Her security level isn't even middle of the back and Jess is constantly hassling her to aim higher and seek a management position.
She has a doctorate in a relevant field and multiple degrees beside her main one. However, such a list is exceptional and is practically a requirement to get through the door without scorn. Her generic job description is 'data analyst', and her daily roles include reviewing and finding discrepancies in vast amounts of data. The work is far from glamorous and won't make it onto the glossy promotional material but solving the problems is satisfying.
"You know there are herds of undergrads and underlings to do the data entry for you, right?" Jess says from her desk next to Eve.
"For the 27th time this month Jess I like the process of entering my data, it's not like we cross tabulate broccoli vs carrots at Sansbury. There are plenty of things that I manage to delegate.
***
Eve meets Oksana purely by chance and a mutual love of Thai Food.
"Can I share your table?"
Eve asks the question almost absentmindedly; her favourite street food vendor is humming with the usual lunchtime trade. Samual never puts out enough tables but today is particularly dire. She only has an hour for lunch (while the latest data finishes sequencing) and can't handle eating standing on the street corner. This place is across the road from the research complex, so it is a regular for employees, but everybody is huddling in specific groupings, the high school for grown-ups.
The exceptional is one table in the far corner.
"Do you know who I am?"
There isn't a trace of the arrogance that typically accompanies that statement. The speaker looks genuinely cautious and puts her chopsticks down carefully before turning to face Eve. Her eyes are oddly sharp but distant at the same time.
"You are Oksana right, from the Russian Facility, a woman currently in possession of one of the few empty tables?" Eve points out, moving to jiggle her tray as if to prove the point.
"Surely you have heard all the rumours about me and how I am messing up everybody's precious data, simply by breathing?" Oksana presses, while moving plates aside almost absently.
"As somebody who literally maps your genes and their potential, I know for sure that none of these conditions is contagious and I only have an hour for lunch."
"Who are you?"
"Eve Polastri, Data Analyst Worker Bee."
"Sit down Eve Polastri; we can test your theory over excellent noodles and broth." Oksana declares matter-of-factly.
"Why haven't I seen you before? there isn't a White Coat that hasn't examined The Mistake at least once."
Oksana says the remark casually without pausing in her demolishment of another plate of food but Eve's middle-class liberal sensibilities still wince at the term. From an objective point of view, Oksana's whole life is a series of tests and failing objective measures, but something feels inherently wrong about that label.
"There is no reason for our paths to meet. Plenty of grunt scientists keep the operation going without getting to do the important stuff. My task is reviewing the data for anomalies, not the people." Eve explains casually.
"I would notice someone like you."
Eve blinks in surprise at the flirtatious lilt in the voice. Factors such as relationships and personal lives are somewhere on file, but there is no need from a purely scientific basis to know such things. Eve finds the admiration of this younger woman surprising but not enough to comment directly.
"I imagine most of us start blending somewhere between month six and seven of Phase Three. If you don't notice my work, then it is a job well done."
***
"Why aren't you asking me a million and one questions about my stamina or 'episodes'?"
"Is there a reason that I should be doing that on my lunch break?"
Somehow they have fallen into step walking back to the facility. Oksana insists on buying Eve lunch, and for some reason, she doesn't object. The time feels strangely amiable even though they don't say much of anything specific. Eve appreciates that the younger woman has an excellent technique with chopsticks and doesn't shy away from spice.
"Everybody in your field is desperate to know the inner workings of my messed up sequencing; what went wrong, my refusal to cooperate is driving Carolyn and the team wild with frustration," Oksana explains with a shrug.
"Which I am guessing is exactly why you keep them on their toes, a sense of control in this completely artificial environment?" Eve asks knowingly.
"They don't use you for the glossary promotional material about 'Humanity's New Ark,’ do they?" You sound too close to a realist. Hasn't Kenny begun his mandatory indoctrination yet?"
"You make it sound like such form of cult.
"Or what passes for a cult in this country." Oksana agrees without looking up from her remaining food.
"How often do they require you to come in for testing and reviewing?"
"You don't believe the rumours that I live in the basement and have a team of 24/7 monitors?"
"No, not with the current state of both the NHS Innovation Budget and how careful the ethical considerations are." Eve points out as she fishes for her security pass.
"Every fortnight or more often depending on what your colleagues can dream up in the meantime. They will be almost daily before the experiments in Africa."
"Then maybe we will run into each other at lunch, and I can return the offer of lunch."
***
"How did you do that?"
Eve barely resists the urge to swear at the interruption in a mixture of Koren and English. One thing she loathes above all else is stoping in the middle of a data-mining exercise. The team on her level feel precisely the same way, and it is unlikely that any of them would violate the unwritten rule. The voice is vaguely familiar, but it takes Eve a second to regain her bearings and place the woman standing before her work station.
"Do what, Ms. Martens?"
There is no logical reason for the overseer of the entire facility, a noted geneticist for decades, to be on this floor, much less talking to Eve. The reports this floor generates go through several layers of management before reaching Carolyn Martens. Eve is not the most diplomatic person and finds the sudden intrusion offputting.
"Pull Oksana Astankova into such casual conversation?" Carolyn explains impatiently.
"Were you spying on Sammy's Thai Place, Ma'am?" Eve asks with no small amount of trepidation.
"Please, you were exchanging life stories in the main lobby of the building. We don't need to waste such resources."
"We were talking about food, mainly."
"The details don't matter; she demonstrates more prosocial behaviours with you in five minutes than the entire team in months of work. We need to capitalise on this."
"Did you ever think that freaking out over a single interaction is part of the reasons these efforts go badly? As a comparative layman in the room." Eve blurts without thinking about the consequences.
"This is both exceptional times and people, Eve, Oksana Astankova is not experiencing mistreatment in any way. Our reviews on such things are stringent even in Russia and the Eastern Block."
***
"How do you feel about a promotion?"
Eve doesn't feel confident to answer the question honestly. Carolyn Martens’ excitement over such a simple interaction is troublesome. Oksana may have unique genetics, but she isn't an alien being attempting First Contact or something. Sharing a love of Thai food with somebody shouldn't be a reason for such a celebration, especially when everybody is in the building was practically mainlining the stuff.
"I am in the middle of a complex review ma'am; I would prefer to see the project complete."
"Fear not, Dr. Polastri, I will not be taking you away from your beloved numbers. Consider this opportunity an extension of your role."
On an intellectual level Eve knows she needs to leap at the opportunity to impress the boss or at least ingratiate herself. Niko and her family were always complaining that she makes more enemies than friends. The truth is her ambitions lie in understanding the puzzle and making sense of the data. The sense of urgency outweighs the occasional boredom or the complete inability to be social. Especially when this experiment is one of the fastest Epigenetics Trials on record, and the data is continually expanding at an insane pace. The 30 years of the projects and Oksana Astankova's life are evolving for a whole host of reasons.
"You want me to talk to her while preforming her intakes, get a sense of her as a person and not the Boogieman and cautionary tale?" Eve asks cautiously, absently echoing Oksana's self-description.
"Do not be so overtly crass and American in your exaggerations, Eve, we do not refer to the project participants like that, it's unbecoming." Carolyn scolds sounding scarily like a headmistress.
"You know that technically speaking I am American right? Complete with knowing the Pledge of Allegiance and everything?" Eve can't help but point out.
"They were foolish enough to underutilise your talents criminally. Therefore the land of your birth is reclaiming you for Queen and Country." Carolyn disagrees far too dismissively.
"I'm sure there is a human rights violation in there somewhere but ok then."
***
To call Eve's acceptance of this new development a choice would be overstating the case quite considerably. There were choices and then there were directives from the person reasonable for your career. It was cautious of Carolyn to pretend Eve has free will at least. Somehow she manages to get Eve onto the seventh floor of the building.
Eve still isn't entirely sure what her new role involves on a practical level; it certainly isn't something she will be writing on her CV. The overall goal seems to be 'Understanding Astankova', but nobody is entirely sure what form such an exercise takes. All the usual techniques and briberies are proving ineffective in this particular case. Eve is taking over the primary observation duties and talking to Oksana in the vague hope of continuing their connection.
"There are doctors in fields with more experience in the particulars. Aren't you hinging a lot for one lunch?"
Carolyn stops walking and regards Eve and for a second looks something close to vulnerable, but it could be a trick of the lights. The fluorescent lights don't do anyone any favours. They are walking through restricted areas without any security checks and Eve tries to wrangle her hair into an approachable level.
"We do not have the luxury of following a conventional path Eve; we need to know that these genetic modifications will hold in the long term, even if 50% of the pandemic and climate protections are correct. These anomalies with Astankova are too significant to risk the large scale genetic treatments. In neurodegeneration and adaptability to climate, especially. Our lives will be so much easier if she pretends a semblance of cooperation." Carolyn explains honestly
"People in my areas are rarely at the leading or cutting edge of such things. Data Analysists tend to look at the bigger picture over the longer term. I will do my best to connect with her around my other work."
"Everybody needs to adjust to accelerating timeframes, even data geeks." Carolyn agrees with a worn smile.
Eve struggles to contain her nerves as they enter the 'inner sanctum' of the projects. Staff and workers don't even bother to look up from their tasks unless Carolyn stops them for a brief update. Nobody bothers to introduce Eve or orient her to the level.
A whole new world indeed.
***
"I'm a miracle worker according to the higher-ups, what kind of scare tactics do you use?"
Eve supposes she should preface her first official meeting with younger woman tactfully, but genuine curiosity gets the better of common sense. She wasn't lying about her length of time away from interactions with patients. Even when practising medicine or the kind on TV, her speciality was genetics in the field of oncology and genetics. There was little need to play the role of a traditional healer, but even so, the room still feels featureless and barren without a hint of welcome or warmth.
Oksana somehow manages to look both serene and vulnerable sitting on the large examination table, all in white, with monitors, steadily recording everything from blood pressure to brain waves. Eve knows the primary purpose for every measurement, but she will be reviewing the archives all weekend long. Carolyn tends to expect every single employee to operate at her level, i.e. prodigiously fast. This project couldn't afford any delays, and there is considerable political pressure to understand the Astankova Anomaly and if this will spread to successive generations. Eve cannot escape the headlines and hypothesises.
"All it takes is for them to see a list of my ailments to tremble — millions of Euros down the drain with every disappointment." Oksana points out with a dramatic sigh and vague gesture around the sterile room.
"I think the scarier aspect is that some of your stats are so freakishly off the charts. The puzzle doesn't make sense when most of the cohort fall within a predictable range. Extremes tend to make scientists nervous, and beside the fact, you barely speak more than two words each visit." Eve explains absently reaching for the electronic medical chart beside the bed.
"So they pull you from the lab to start official babysitting duty?"
Eve gives a hapless shrug, but her attention catches on the collection of bruises that litter Oksana's pale forearms, from elbow to wrist. The marks are at different stages of healing, but the newest looks fresh. Such invasions must be painful, and she can't help but reach out for a closer look, carefully avoiding the parts with the most rainbow patterns.
"My veins are as useless as rice noodles at the moment; the testing is far behind," Oksana explains casually.
Eve sits down on the rolling stool and reaches for the pack of latex gloves, mentally preparing a list of things she needs to bring in to help with skin recovery. Carolyn won't even blink at the expense if it makes progress happen faster.
"There is no need for such rough treatment or least not in the long term. I worked as a phlebotomist throughout college; an impatient person should never attempt to draw blood." Eve explains almost absently as she forages through the instrument tray.
"What are you looking for?"
"Something to help ease the bruising and discomfort. There are normally basic supplies in these rooms with how regularly you guys come in."
"I don't need anything; Eve, I can handle pain, my scores are way better than everybody in your soft country, in the younger 'better' models." Oksana boasts almost proudly.
Eve wants to point out that there is something wrong with a system that inflicts pain purely to test it, but this isn't the time for such debates. She focuses on breaking the ice packs and wrapping them around Oksana's thin forearm and swallow elbow joint. There is heat near the site and subtle signs of infection.
"Well, that's not going to happen with me, Ok? The hospital sent me all the difficult patients, including the ones who severely dehydrated and the chemo kids. We are going to get those arms into much better shape." Eve insists with similar levels of professional pride.
"You can try Old Faithful," Oksana suggests softly.
She gingerly moves the pad and puts to a marginally bigger vein in the crook of her elbow that looks ready to collapse at a stiff breeze. If Eve didn't know better, she would think her new patient is a junkie with a significant habit. Of course, that would be a redundant point with these subjects because they are mostly incapable of getting high.
Eve takes the arm on offer and turns it over, smiling to herself when she sees the typical network of veins on the top of the hand. Oksana has a naturally small circulatory system in the hands and arms. The constant pressure will not be helping anything, but that doesn't mean it can't happen with a little extra effort.
"Thanks but I'm going to try my luck here first and give Old Faithful a chance to rest."
"Thank you, Eve."