Zendyne | Page 6

design. Not your responsibility after all."

"That’s not what I meant. But you need to remember that we used the same neural
processing hardware in the 9300 series—"
"The hardware is irrelevant. It was the mindware that failed." Xia Lin’s expression
hardened and Lee knew that the subject held no more interest for her. "There was some
discussion of having you assigned back to the company hive in Shenyang, for
re-education." She paused, circling her tea bowl with manicured fingers that were only
slightly less translucent than the porcelain. Slowly, she raised the cup to her lips, sipped,
and replaced it on the desk. She met his eyes for a moment and then looked away. "Such
a professional humiliation for you. I knew you would never have agreed to go. So, you
are being granted an indefinite leave of absence."
"But ... that’s not fair!"
"It was most unfortunate that I could not protect you. If only you had given me more
reason. Perhaps..." She favored him with an unsubtle glance, leaving him in no doubt
about the price tag of her support. He found himself shaking his head. Xia Lin’s face
reddened and she looked away.
Lee paused, marshalling his defenses, wondering how much of this was corporate policy
and how much Xia Lin’s jealous vendetta. He hadn’t foreseen getting sacked. A
reprimand, a demotion, a setback to his career, yes, but he’d expected to retain access to
the lab, to have the opportunity to generate the test results that would set everything right.
Instead, they’d already given up on trying to contain news of the killing. They’d moved
to damage control, spinning the facts to minimize the downside and protect the
stockholders. Naturally, they needed a scapegoat.
One particular scapegoat, to be precise.
Lee fought back, knowing it was hopeless because the only thing that could clear his
design was the one thing he wasn’t prepared to reveal. "Listen. No one else knows the
9400 series like me. No one is better placed to diagnose the fault—"
"It pains me to say this, Lee, but I have already discussed the matter with our
departmental superiors. You are no longer seen as a reliable engineer."
And that was that.
The personnel lady was hovering outside, ready to progress him — according to the
jargon of her kind — into an extra-corporate placement situation. He signed the
post-employment waivers and non-disclosures that she brought up on her screen, and
watched her save them with all the drug tests and psych profiles they’d done over the
years. Then she wanted to beam the latest vacancy list into his handeck.
"At least that’s one company document you can take with you," she said brightly. "And
please, do glance over it when you have a moment. We often find that employees in your
position are able to transition into other, ah, less demanding roles."

"I’d rather not, thanks." Lee still didn’t want to switch his ‘deck on, and he doubted that
the machine would have accepted the list in any case, not since Lilith flitted aboard and
melted its input circuitry.
"Then I’ll email them. To your personal account, of course, since your company mail is
disabled as of now." Humming, she tapped a command into her own handeck. "Now,
please don’t hesitate to contact me if you want any further details. We always enjoy
welcoming long-lost members of the Zendyne family back into the fold..."
Lee thanked her and left. He knew that her list would have no professional-level openings,
and he wasn’t about to start applying for janitorial work or night security. Right now, he
was more interested in the price of his company stock.
As he crossed the lobby for the last time, he saw Kelly registering at the reception desk.
The rentacop was grinning inanely in his crisp new uniform, being ushered into the
building by a pair of sleek-looking suits.
***
Lee went straight to the nearest Coffee Co-operative and sat at one of the café’s customer
terminals, sipping overpriced froth as he considered his next move.
He’d really been counting on having access to the lab; the loss of his monthly paycheck
was an irrelevance compared to that. Being unemployed left him with no way to
vindicate his design or clear his reputation.
He imagined some diligent, competent technician analyzing the doll’s mind, piece by
painstaking piece. Everything would be in perfect working order. The killing would be
attributed to some misunderstood aspect of Lee’s mindware, and the Aphrodite 9400
series — his first product as lead designer — would go down in history as the android
that murdered its owner.
Lee had a horrible feeling he’d forgotten to renew his professional indemnity insurance.
For now, he could only hope that Lilith was unique, because if there were more