Luca by Jacob Whaler Page B

or our methods, you have seen the brain scans, I presume.” Cat swipes a finger across her slate. A holo jumps out of it. “This is from one of our star subjects. Her brain clearly demonstrates the new neuronal structures I mentioned in my report. All the girls have them, but none as pronounced as this.”
    The woman draws closer. “What is her name?”
    “Luca.”
    “Strange. How did she end up with an Italian boy’s name?”
    “According to the files, her father was half Italian.”
    “Is she here?”
    “Yes,” Cat says. “Right over there.” She walks down the line, bringing the woman with her and stopping in front of Luca.
    The holo floats in the air above the slate, a rotating image of a multicolored human brain. The faint outline of a narrow spiral, six inches long, appears imbedded in the tissue.
    “We’re all familiar with the revolutionary new organ , as you call it.”
    “I was the first to identify it and publish my results.”
    “It is interesting, but I doubt it will get you the Mao Prize you covet.” The woman reaches into the holo as if to touch the spiral. “Now that we know what to look for, variations of it have been found in other children suffering from schizophrenia. But experts disagree as to its function. Or whether it even has a function. At most, it’s a genetic mutation stimulated by excessive exposure to radiation in utero. Perhaps no more than an anomaly.”
    “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Cat’s gaze moves back to Luca. "It’s more than a simple genetic mutation. Or an anomaly.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Cat points at the structure in the holo. “It acts as a radiation sink, drawing poisons out of the tissues of the body.”
    “Yes, we know.”
    “The spiral seems to want more radiation, taking it from the air. Sometimes I wonder if it’s alive on its own. Our scans indicate that neurons within the spiral are most active when the subjects are experiencing auditory hallucinations.”
    “Hearing voices?”
    “Yes.” Cat takes a step closer to Luca. “And this girl is our prime specimen. The one with the most active spiral.” Cat runs her fingers through Luca’s long hair.
    “So, she still hears voices? Perhaps your treatments are not as effective as you have represented.”
    “She hears the voices, but it’s painful. She will learn not to respond.”
    “Why do your work here, in the heart of an international toxic dump?”
    “Because these girls can’t be moved. No other institution will accept them with the perceived radiation risk in their brain tissues. Dead or alive, they are pariahs in a country with a mortal fear of toxins. We are the only ones that can take care of them and study them. The only ones that can unlock the secrets inside their heads. For the good of all.”
    “And that is why we must continue to fund your Institution?” The woman nods her head as if answering her own question, turns and walks toward the transport across the courtyard, casting a backward glance. “I will present your arguments to the Minister in Beijing. She will make the final decision.”
    Cat walks quickly alongside the woman. “What do you think she will say?”
    “Depends on her mood, which isn’t often good. Be prepared to shut down the entire project.”
    “And what will happen to the children?”
    The woman stops and turns. “Are you really so concerned about the children? Open their cells and abandon them to the wild they came from. Back into the Death Grid. Tell the world they escaped.”
    “How could you even suggest such a thing?”
    “I’ve been monitoring your accounts. The monthly siphoning of funds. That’s the real reason the children are starving. You've worked hard to hide it. Even taught me a few tricks. Being from the Mainland, I’m used to it, but it pains me to see some of our comrades in Japan have acquired the same tastes. The real question is, what will happen to your mansion in the Izu Peninsula when they come to arrest you for