He turned and held the door for Eva as if going through it was the most ordinary thing you could think of. Last evening, while Dad and Joan and Ali and Meg and the rest of the team had stood around, Dr. Richter had ceremonially removed the last pair of sensor cables that tied her to the machines. Champagne corks had popped. Everyone had wished her good luck. And today she was free. Going through the door was like being hatched, coming out of her safe egg into the huge world.
The world was a shambles. First there was a little empty vestibule and beyond that the control room, where new machines were being uncrated; technicians were arguing over a wiring diagram; a supervisor was frowning at a printout. Eva knuckled through the mess beside Robbo and out into a wide hospital corridor. She was glad now of the boring exercises he and the physios had made her do all the last seven weeks. She felt none of the tiredness and heaviness you’d have expected after all that time in bed—in fact, an exhilarating lightness filled her, becoming stronger and stronger until she lost control and went scampering on ahead, hooting with pleasure as she ran.
Then she stopped dead, with all the hairs along her back prickling erect. Her call had been answered, not with the same call but with a series of short breathy barks on a slightly rising note snapped off into silence. A chimp call. Eva had never heard it before, but she knew, or rather she felt, what it meant. Alone, it said. Lost. Frightened. Where are you? She felt the answer rising in her throat but suppressed it as Robbo caught up with her.
“Who’s that?” she said.
“Who’s what?”
The call began again while Eva was still pressing keys. Alone. Lost . . .
“That, you mean?” said Robbo. “Next patient, I guess. Now that Prof. Pradesh has proved she can do it with you ...”
“They’re going to do lots?” Kelly after Kelly after Kelly?
Eva stayed where she was, her pelt crawling at the thought. Robbo was already moving on and glanced back at her, puzzled.
“Sure. Got to try again, don’t they? Check it all out? That’s how science works. You want to be the only one?”
Eva grunted and knuckled on beside him down the corridor. She didn’t know what she wanted. Anyway, they couldn’t do lots—there weren’t enough chimps. But Robbo was right—they’d do some, as many as they could probably. Not to save lives either, though that would come into it, but the real reason was in the human mind. It couldn’t stop asking, the human mind. Once it found one thing out, it had to move on. And then what? it kept saying. You do one experiment and it works, so you try it again, with a difference, to see if that works too. And again and again . . . So there wasn’t just one chimp shut up, lonely, frightened, bewildered, having its blood sampled, its brain rhythms measured, all that. Eva’s control room was having new gadgets moved in so it could take care of more than one experiment . . .
“Now, what do you think of that!”
“Hoo!”
“Who, what?”
“Okay, who paid for it?”
“You can’t read?”
Eva looked again. The gym wasn’t large, but it shone like a glossy new toy and smelled of fresh plastic and varnish. In one corner a shaper crew was rigging lights and a camera. There was a climbing frame, a trapeze, a vaulting horse, and a lot of moveable stuff; and every item, she now saw, had the Honeybear logo on it. Eva knew it so well that she hadn’t noticed it. Because Honeybear used chimps in its commercials there’d always been free Honeybear drinks at home, ever since she could remember. Now there was a free gym. Okay.
She knuckled across the floor and swung herself up into the frame.
“Hey! Take it easy!” said Robbo. “Don’t want you breaking a rib. We should’ve had a week at least, trying out what you can do before they did the program. Watch it!”
Impossible to obey. It was so glorious to be moving like this, reaching, grasping, swinging across. She knew she was still only about half strong, despite the exercises—when she was fully fit a grown man would have trouble holding her—but now what mattered was the sheer pleasure of movement, the feeling of naturalness. This was what these arms, these fingers, were for. It mattered because it allowed her to understand the Tightness of this new body, to feel its beauty and energy . . .
“Watch it, I said!” snapped Robbo.
Eva squatted into a crook of the frame and hooted derisively, but in fact he’d been right. For a moment, quite unpredictably, the ghost of a human arm had flickered into her mind, making her miss her grip, forcing her to grab with the other hand, clutch. The ghost came back even more strongly when she tried to swing. Long ago, as a small girl, that body had learned the to-and-fro rhythm, the exact timing needed to fling her weight on the chains and drive the swing forward through its arc. This body was differently weighted. Its arms were the wrong length. The rhythm wouldn’t come. Thinking didn’t help, because the old human timing was imprinted below the level of thought, putting a jiggle into the arc and spoiling the acceleration. Swinging was something she’d have to learn fresh.
What about riding a bike? There was a kid’s bike with fat tires and the Honeybear logo freshly painted on its side, but there wasn’t room to use it in the gym, with the mess of cables cluttering the floor, so she took it out into the corridor to try. Balancing turned out to be easy, and she could grip the pedals with her feet, but her legs didn’t understand about moving in circles. She was wobbling along, concentrating on the pedal movement, when some people came out of a door just ahead of her, not looking where they were going, because the man in front was talking over his shoulder. Trying to miss him, Eva steered into the wall and crashed. That stopped their talk.
She picked herself up and saw that the man she’d missed was a stranger, though there was something familiar about him all the same. If he hadn’t been wearing heavy dark glasses she might have recognized him. The people he’d been talking to over his shoulder were Dad and Joan Pradesh and a nervous-looking young woman. Eva rippled her fingers over the keys.
“Hi, Dad. Got to learn all over fresh.”
“Better learn to look where you’re going.”
“This is her?” said the stranger.
“This is Eva,” said Joan. “This is Dirk Elian, Eva. I’m sure you’ve seen him on the shaper.”
Eva grunted a greeting. The man just nodded, not to her but to Joan, telling her Yes, he’d seen this chimp. Something about the nod made the name click. Dirk Elian! Of course, though Eva hadn’t watched his programs often. Dad had taught her to be scornful of the sort of predigested science you got on the shaper.
“We were coming to see how you were getting along,” said Dad.
“She’s been doing fine, Dr. Adamson,” said Robbo. “Times you wouldn’t know she wasn’t a chimp. Few things she can’t handle yet.”
“Like riding a bike,” said Dad.
He was smiling inside his beard. Too much. Eva wasn’t surprised at the way Robbo had hurried to get his word in, but Dad! All anxious and eager. And Mr. Elian’s nods and silences showed that he was used to this sort of reaction—expected it, in fact. It was just like the chimps in the Pool, with their boss males, and the other males constantly making special signals to placate or challenge the bosses. Eva didn’t remember noticing humans behaving like this in the old days, but now everything the three men did seemed obvious, a language she’d always known.
Back in the gym she climbed and swung a bit to show them what she could do. Then there was a long wait while the shaper people set the cameras up and discussed angles and changed their minds and argued. Then she went through her paces; first, things chimps could do naturally, like climbing and swinging; then things they might be taught to do, like riding a bike; and then things they couldn’t, like building a self-supporting arch of toy bricks. There were long waits between each take.