Sequela by Cleland Smith Page B

the arguments, but he remembered thinking that it must be very important because neither of his parents had said happy birthday to him. Dee had beaten them to it, bursting in the back door, arms outstretched, chanting I am the birthdaybot. I have come to install your nanoscreener. Surrender your guts.
     
    -o-
     
    It was strange being back at the V building. It was only a week and a half since his interview but everything looked different to Kester. He stood looking up at the building, recalling what he had felt: a sickness, nausea, the feeling that he was about to try and fool someone. Why he should have felt this way he had no idea. He had been designing viruses for eight years now, had a PhD out of which had come several extremely well received and now commonly cited papers and articles, had produced viruses for the MoD, the Home Office and large private clients home and abroad, but faced with this new audience he felt like a fraud, despite having the notes on his Book to back it all up.
    It had been sunny, he remembered, sunnier than today. The steel structure of the building was exposed. It wore its skeleton on the outside. Above the front entrance sat the point of a gigantic V, whose arms were thrown tall to the top corners of the building. It had been incorporated into the structure and housed the mechanism for the mechanical window cleaners that swept round the building just before dawn. Beauty and functionality went hand-in-hand. Well, reflected Kester, a certain sort of modern beauty. Used to the mothball streets around the Institute, this still looked like the future to him. He recalled noticing how the V-shape was tapered to vanishing point at the top ends to exaggerate the ridiculous height of the building. The sky had been blue and flat. Fine backlit balloon skin stretched tight over the top of the city.
    Today it felt stormy. The sky was again blue, but Kester knew it could change in a matter of minutes. He stood before the giant V and looked up. With clouds skittering past fast on the wind, it looked like the immense building was sliding sideways, bending in the breeze. Kester felt suddenly giddy and looked straight ahead. Trying his best to breathe evenly, he walked in a superhumanly straight line to the single revolving door that gave access to the ground floor. As he stepped into the doors he was aware of the enormous V that branched above him. He felt a sudden spike on the top of his skull, a fear that the V might drop suddenly and split him like an anatomical model right down the middle, revealing everything.
    The ground floor of V was a real show-off piece of engineering. It was walled entirely in glass, all the way round. The only opaque surfaces were the eight elevator tubes clustered like thick power cables in the centre of the floor. From the outside they appeared to hold up the building. The floor was highly-shined stone so seamless that Kester wondered if the place was built on one huge polished rock. There was nothing there except the reception desk, space, the odd piece of art. Kester made an appreciative face as he walked past a long swoosh of metal close to the reception desk and tilted his head to show that he was considering the piece.
    At the front desk, Kester said, 'Hi,' exactly as planned. 'My name's Kester Lowe. Alexis Farrell's expecting me. She said –'
    'What time is your meeting?' asked the receptionist with a clinical smile.
    'Meeting?' The unexpected question flustered Kester. 'No – I'm sorry – I'm not here for a meeting.' As he fumbled in his bag for his Book the receptionist started to look nervous. 'It's my first day. Mrs Farrell said I should see her for my induction.'
    Kester pressed his thumb to his Book and sought out the acceptance note with the instructions to come to reception.
    'Let me see.' The receptionist studied the message with a frown. There was an odd metallic sound to her voice. Kester couldn't tell if it was her or the acoustics of the reception. She had