PGAD
4.
They stood there, both of their chests heaving as they each tried to catch their breath. Chris had turned away as he awkwardly reached down to grab his pants, bunched around his ankles, and pulled them back up, redoing his belt. Ms. Davis, still flush faced and sweating, was ineffectually smoothing her clothes and wiping at the semen still running down her face.
What now? Chris thought. Exchange numbers? I’ll call you in the morning?
But Ms. Davis, while seemingly just as embarrassed, was much quicker to collect herself. Despite the situation, she still admirably managed to sound detached and in control.
“Well… I gather you may have some sense of what’s going on with me…”
“I, uh… yes, I think so.. I do…” Chris stammered. He willed himself to look back in her direction, only to turn away again when he saw that there was still some errant ejaculation in the corner of her mouth. His ejaculation.
“I trust you’ll be discreet in this.” She somehow managed to keep her tone light, casual almost, yet with the hint of a command, an underlying threat. And there it was, all of his various concerns and fears at ending up in this messy, complicated situation came flooding back.
It was his ass on the line now.
“Of.. of course,” he answered, meekly, before repeating it again with a little more conviction. “Of course.”
Ms. Davis nodded, and again Chris was overly distracted by that gleaming trail of his spunk on her chin.
“Speaking of discretion,” she continued, “I understand that other employees—” she paused here for emphasis, and it was clear that by “other employees” she actually meant “other executives”—“have been able to rely on our research division for a wide array of requests, many of which would be considered… not strictly business-related.
“I wonder if you would now extend that courtesy to me by way of some sort of remedy for my current dilemma.”
Her eyes found Chris’, and finally, mercifully, she swiped at her mouth again with the back of her hand, leaving her face mostly clean now. She made a small grimacing scowl as she did so, but otherwise ignored it. Still, with that distraction gone, Chris was only more aware of the severity of the situation he was in now. He could see her appraising him closely, knew that she was evaluating both whether or not he knew how to help her, and whether he would.
Chris’ mind raced while under Ms. Davis’ penetrating gaze. He knew. He knew what was wrong with her. He knew how to help. And he pretty much knew who was responsible. What if she could read it on his face and he didn’t help? Probably nothing good would happen for him, even if she wasn’t completely sure. From her perspective, he was just a corporate ant who either wouldn’t or couldn’t help her, and it didn’t really matter which it was; Chris had no doubt that if he wasn’t of any use to her, she wouldn’t hesitate to squish him. Still… what if he did help her? And someone else found out that he had helped? That could be equally bad for him…
On the other hand… He knew how to help. Wasn’t he obligated to do so, ethically? Look at what this was doing to the poor woman. He could see she was still affected, even now—how torturous it must be for her. And ultimately, in some sense, he had taken advantage of that, for his own gratification. Chris could try to forget it, try to bury it, but deep down he knew what had been running through his head during their encounter… And couldn’t help but think how after everything, he still hadn’t learned from his mistakes...
Maybe… maybe there was a way to help without revealing too much, he thought.
“Let me uh… let me see what I can do,” he finally answered carefully.
Going to his computer, Chris again accessed that database that shouldn’t even have been available in a proper research study, and looked her up by name. Then, he reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a tablet device. Reading off the computer screen, he typed the numerical sequence into the tablet, the same series of numbers that had been printed on the vial of the formula that he’d injected into her three days prior.
Immediately a series of forms populated on the tablet screen, with sliding bars and editable text fields, populated with a myriad of values. Scanning the list, he found rather quickly what he was looking for. Stepping a few feet closer to her, as if that actually made a difference, Chris then swiped down with his finger, then tapped the screen a few more times.
The effect was immediate. Ms. Davis suddenly inhaled sharply, before her brow creased and then she gave a soft exhale of relief. Some of the redness left her face immediately.
“Holy…” The executive was in awe. “What… what did you do..?!”
Chris’ own brow was furrowed however, as he looked down at the screen. “That’s strange,” he muttered.
He swiped at the tablet again, but wasn’t able to put the slider bar down completely. Somehow the lower limit was locked, and indeed as he looked more closely, he saw now that the lower third of the slider bar was a darker shade of gray than the rest, signifying it was disabled.
The tablet was abruptly snatched out of his hands.
“Wait—”
He reached out, but Ms. Davis pushed him back with surprising quickness and force. With her free hand, she held the tablet up to her eyes, a look of confusion and growing anger gathering on her face.
“What… what the hell is this?!
“Metabolism,” she read off the screen. “Stamina?! Libido?I”
She looked away from the screen back to Chris now, her mouth slightly open. She couldn’t even articulate properly in her astonishment and rage. “What… wh… how?!”
Chris held his hands out, backing up a few steps.
“Listen, Ms. Davis, I’m sorry but I just did what I was told…”
“Which was what?!” she demanded, shaking the tablet in front of him. “What the fuck is this? How does this work?!
“Talk!”
“It’s an interface!” Chris practically squeaked, hating himself for it. But he couldn’t help it, he was totally terrified. He’d planned on giving her a sugar pill or something after messing with the settings, with the intent to try and pass the placebo off as the cure and then there wouldn’t need to be any messy explanations, no indication that he knew anything about what was going on with her. All of that was out the window now—he hadn’t expected the program to work so damn quickly. Now, caught off guard and panicked as he was, Chris couldn’t even think fast enough to lie.
“An interface… for what..?” Sara Davis’ voice was growing quieter, but in an ominous way.
Chris flailed about mentally, grasping nothing. He couldn’t think of any way out of this. After a few moments that felt like eternity, he took a deep breath, let it out, and answered.
“The nanites, Ms. Davis.
“It controls the nanites I injected into your body a few days ago.”
“‘Nanites’,” she repeated. “Do you want to explain to me what those are..?”
“Nanotechnology. They’re, umm… tiny robots.” Chris gave as basic an explanation as he could think of, but continued quickly, seeing Ms. Davis’ expression growing stormier still. “They’re microscopic, borderline organic organisms that can self-generate energy through your body’s byproducts.”
“How does that explain what’s happening to me?” Her impatient, dismissive tone again perfectly reflected that of a high-powered executive. Skip the tech talk and get to the point.
“Well, as I’m sure you know,” Chris began sycophantically, not being sure at all, but still wanting to preserve his job and his ass, “that everything occurs within the body on a cellular level.
“Nanites operate on the same level. They can receive instructions to build or destroy cells of any type: muscle, bone, fat, red or white blood cells…”
He saw her processing this information briefly before she shook her head. “What’s happening to me has nothing to do with my bones or muscles or fat! It’s not some… some… physical change..!”
“I know what you mean,” Chris replied diplomatically, trying hard not to sound disagreeable. “It’s just that everything is physical on some level. All of our thoughts and movements are physically generated electrical impulses. Our moods and feelings are controlled by chemical secretions that are physically created by our glands.
“So you see, anything the human body is capable of doing, the nanites are capable of emulating.
“Even more than capable,” he added, growing unintentionally more enthusiastic about the subject matter. “Certain cell development like bone growth halts after puberty. Aging and senescence occur when overall the net cellular production rate is outpaced by cellular degeneration. Nanites have no such restrictions. They’re capable of reversing any deficiency, enhancing any benefit far beyond what the human body can do on its own!”
Chris felt a small smile that quickly slid from his face as he realized that Ms. Davis did not share his exuberance.
“These tiny little robots sound lovely.” It was clear Ms. Davis thought anything but. “The part I’m trying to figure out is how that invalidates the need for informed consent.”
Chris wasn’t able to think of an adequate response or explanation. Of course that was to be expected since he had none.
Well… That’s it. I’m fucked. Totally, completely fucked.
“You injected them into me.
“Like a lab rat!
“And a bunch of other people, too!” Ms. Davis burst out in sudden realization. “Gen-U-Tech employees!”
“Not everyone,” Chris contradicted feebly. “A lot of people were given a placebo...”
“That doesn’t fucking matter!”
“Anyway, the nanites were supposed to be dormant!” Chris protested, trying to explain. “I was told the case study was only supposed to be observing adverse effects of the nanites themselves, if there would be any immune response, some kind of rejection…
“I don’t know who activated yours..!”
“How do I turn this off?” Ms. Davis was looking at the tablet in her hand again. “How do I get rid of them?”
“I…” Chris paused before answering truthfully, surprising even himself. He hadn’t ever really thought about it. “...I don’t know.
“But you can control them with that tablet,” he added hastily, seeing the fury renewing on the executive’s face. “Now that it has the nanites’ private key encoded, you can deactivate them, totally turn them off. It’s just that I don’t know how to clear them from your body altogether.
“Only…”
“Yes?” Ms. Davis was still staring at the screen with a scowl, scrolling with her finger now. She looked up when he didn’t answer promptly.
“It… it looks like some features are locked. I wasn’t able to turn off that setting altogether. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s a bug in the system..?”
The executive stood there wordlessly for a few moments. She looked back and forth between Chris and the tablet a few times, before she held it up. Again, he tried to think of something to say as the silence spiraled out between them, but this time he was mercifully spared.
“I’m taking this,” she announced, gesturing with the tablet, waving it slightly in his face.
Sara Davis turned and walked out of the lab.