Boy 2.0: Chapters 21–23

“Michelle is brilliant and innovative. She thought of things that the rest of us could never imagine, and even better, she’d figure out ways to execute it. But she doesn’t like to be in charge of anything. She hates dealing with people, doing the stuff that you need to do as a CEO...."

“Michelle is brilliant and innovative. She thought of things that the rest of us could never imagine, and even better, she’d figure out ways to execute it. But she doesn’t like to be in charge of anything. She hates dealing with people, doing the stuff that you need to do as a CEO...."

Dr. Achebe shrugged. “There’s absolutely nothing like it anywhere. Not on any other earthly creature anyway.”
Coal snorted. “You think I’m an alien?”
Dr. Achebe looked amused. “No, nothing so exotic as that. But it does mean you’re unique. No one but Michelle could pull this off.”

“Michelle swore it was possible for a human being to camouflage. There was no evidence of it in a mammal, but she was certain. Of course, you’re not going to find a lot of people interested in funding long-shot research like that. But research on skin is a lot like research on the linings of organs, and that’s what the Snow White Project was.”

Dr. Achebe tentatively put his hands on Coal’s shoulders, as if he was trying to soothe him but was unsure of how best to help.

“Yes,” Doc said. “If he knows, they know. They’ll be here soon.”
Dr. Achebe went to the wall of windows and looked down to the front of the building. He sighed. “They’re already here.”
The entire building went dark. A collective groan came from the people in the outer room. Doc grabbed Coal’s hand and dragged him out as everyone scrambled to leave.

Doc took a deep breath. Not one of her nice, neat yoga ones. This one was all frustration. “You didn’t have a plan at all!” she yelled. “Between the five of you not a single one thought that maybe this was too dangerous, that it would most likely backfire spectacularly.”

“Why would he do that?” Coal asked. “Why not just stop us before we got inside?”
“He wanted to see what you’re capable of,” Doc said. “It was a field test. The military project wasn’t just about programming people so they could camouflage themselves. It was also about making people who were genetically predisposed to be cool under pressure.”

“Your mother was hopeful that your ability to make yourself invisible was a fluke. She monitored you for months, and it never happened again. But her research was about making someone who could do exactly what you did. If anyone knew about you, it would be dangerous. She had to keep you a secret.”

Doc was taking a circuitous route, constantly checking the rearview mirror as if she was certain someone was following them. When they finally got to their neighborhood, Coal felt the relief wash over her. But as she prepared to turn onto their street, she hesitated, turned the car away, and hit the gas.

Doc stopped the car and rummaged through her purse until she found a single door key. She pressed it into Coal’s hand. “Turn off your phone. I’ll come and get you as soon as it’s safe. But even there, you have to be careful. Your mother’s research is at Tom’s house.”

She shook her head. “There’s more than one? You really need to be more careful, invisible boy.”
“You know.”
“You weren’t subtle with the fabric at the lab,” she said.

Coal explained about what had happened with Tom. Then about what he’d learned at Mirror Tech.
Isadora listened quietly. With each new revelation, her eyebrows creeped up higher. When he was done, she put her hand on his. “That’s a lot.”

Coal opened his eyes. In the patchy moonlight, his arms were fading into the background. His hands took on the pattern of the parquet floor and a bit of the color of the rug.
Isadora touched his skin. “This is amazing,” she said. “Your mother was really a genius.

Incorrect password
Coal slumped against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Isadora said. “I don’t have any other ideas. I thought for sure she’d have chosen a code you would be able to decipher, but Tom wouldn’t. Something easy enough but not obvious.”

I noticed the mole several days ago, but it was somewhere on the periphery of my mind while I tried to finish the last tests on lab CS701. Today I couldn’t ignore it. There it was, uneven, discolored, and blooming on my shoulder. I biopsied it and checked it under the microscope. It’s melanoma.

The answers were here. Somewhere. Why were they so hard to find? He banged on the keyboard, closing one file, opening another, and typing into the search bar.
“Hey, stop,” Isadora said. “You’re getting all riled up again. It’s a sure way to miss stuff. We’re going to have to go through carefully.”

“She died,” Coal repeated. His fingers twitched for his quilt. Without it, he hugged himself around the knees and let Isadora narrate him through a few more of the notes. Each one charted the acceleration of the cancer in her body and the growth of the baby, interspersed with notes on her research.

The cancer has advanced. Metastasized in my lungs, liver, and brain. There’s nothing that can be done now. He will need a home. Candace is the obvious choice.

The subject has multiple types of chromatophores. The epithelial cells have the ability to constrict to change the absorption of light, controlling the subject’s color and texture on a cell-by-bell basis. The subject has the ability to completely take on a surrounding environment, becoming practically invisible.

“These figures are the results of computer simulations she ran to figure out how her cancer might have affected you.” Isadora pointed to charts on the laptop screen. “She copied down the results in detail and notes that she destroyed all the other files. Her last notes are on November 11. You would have been four months old then. She had failed to replicate what happened with you...."

“These figures are the results of computer simulations she ran to figure out how her cancer might have affected you.” Isadora pointed to charts on the laptop screen. “She copied down the results in detail and notes that she destroyed all the other files. Her last notes are on November 11. You would have been four months old then. She had failed to replicate what happened with you...."

“I’m a mutant?”
“Everyone’s a mutant,” Isadora said. “Cells mutate all the time. It’s not as unusual as they’d have you believe in the movies.” She frowned as she scanned the notes. “I’m not seeing any more details about the legend.”

“She’s a scientist,” Isadora said. “Sticking to the facts is our default. But all the personal files and the scientific files are separate. She did that to make sure nobody knew that you were hers.”

If he’s ever associated with me, the assumption will be that he was created in a lab. They’ll think it’s a little too coincidental that this would be a naturally occurring phenomenon, even though it was my own family legends that brought me to this work.