Quaranteam The Upstarts Knight Ch 12

For those reading in real time - I planned to put this out in one instalment along with what is now going to become Chapter 13, but my projected word count is ballooning rapidly so I've decided to drop this rather than make you wait for me to get through another 20,000 words. Thanks for reading and as always, thanks to Corrupting Power and the other QT authors.

Relevant Cast List:

Team Knight

- Ethan Knight: A junior producer at the North England Broadcast Corporation and member of Project Upstart

- Nia Clarke-Mills: VP of Marketing at Averna Pharma, responsible for the PR of the Gemivax rollout

- Evie Kimura: Civil servant from the Department for Culture Media and Sport, permanently attached to support the NEBC and Project Upstart

- Farah Hassan: Former England Women's cricketer turned media personality, headhunted to be the face of Gemivax for Project Upstart

- Jessica (Jess) McNamara: An online artist and designer hired to help produce graphics and animations

- Alex McNamara: a programmer and coder who was falsely matched with Team Barclay and paired with Ethan following an adverse reaction

Team Barclay

- Rhys Barclay: A former editor of a tabloid paper brought on to Project Upstart despite his dubious personality

- Dr Eleanor (Nell) Armstrong: A public health doctor working as a consultant with the NEBC, now assisting Project Upstart with the Gemivax rollout

Unaffiliated

- Aoife Ryan: the long suffering and increasingly burnt out head broadcast/studio engineer for the NEBC

- Hayley: one of Aoife's assailants, a widowed former vet

- Anas: Aoife's other assailant, Hayley's brother in law, a former pharmacist

October 2nd 2020 (3 weeks earlier)

'Light, is all over us.

'Like it always was...'

The synth-pop intro of the latest track that Aoife was sharing from her Spotify built in the background of the video call; a Scottish woman's vocals, trilled and melodic over reverbed bass. But the sound caused Ethan's face to crease in feigned displeasure in the corner of her second monitor, before his voice chimed in over her headphones.

"Again? Come on Aoife, you're killing me."

The engineer responded by simply kicking up the volume, before giving a troll-like smirk to her own webcam. "What's wrong with Chvrches? They're better than most of the pish you listen to."

"Sure, if you insist," came the sarcastic response. "But this is still like the 3rd time you've played this one tonight though. And it takes forever to get to the drop."

She leaned back in her chair in front of the two screens, brought from home along with her PC, that she'd just about managed to perch on the hotel room desk. Ethan had pretty similar tastes in music to her most of the time, but she considered his knee-jerk dislike of anything he considered too 'pop' to be a moral failing, and she had to admit she kept going back to the same track once he'd complained mostly for the fun of aggravating him.

"You," she said, finishing what was left in her bright, cartoon-covered can of IPA, before tossing it in the direction of the bin that sat in the corner, "have no appreciation of delayed gratification."

The can bounced off the rim with a ding and rolled away under the bed. Normally it was something she'd have picked up immediately, but tonight it would need to wait rather, knowing she wasn't about to get up. She was aware of Ethan replying, but for a moment her attention strayed back to the window open on her main monitor, with the questions that sat there in front of her feeling just as deliriously unreal as they had been when she first saw them.

"Sorry, you say something?"

"I said, when this is all over we're heading into Manchester one night, so I can show you what actual music sounds like." The statement hung there for a moment, waiting to see if either of them noticed the half-intended implication to Ethan's invitation. If Aoife had caught it, she'd have jumped at the hinted promise of a night out with him, but she was too swept along in the weird, awkward energy of the questionnaire they both hand open, and ended up brushing it off instead.

"Ok, no offence Ballbag, but I don't know what the fuck you're doing thinking about music while we have this in front of us?"

Something unreadable passed over Ethan's face, and she missed that too before it flickered away. "...fair point."

They had both definitely had less bizarre Friday nights.

The email from Pallisade's management had arrived that morning with the highest priority, along with fresh login information for a system called Delphi, and a warning that failure to complete the survey which employees would find there within 48 hours risked having their contracts terminated. Her initial impulse had been that it was some sort of weird phishing attempt, but several enquiries confirmed that it was, in fact, real. And as much as she hated Pallisade's bullshit, she hated the idea of not being paid more, leaving her little choice but to grudgingly oblige. Fortunately she'd decided she wasn't going to do so alone, or entirely sober.

The first four of the five sections on the sleek, corporate, web portal for the Delphi system would have slowly sapped her will to live if she hadn't had Ethan there on a video call with her, as she filled in page after page of information under the headings

Demographics, Health Declarations, Personality Assessment

and

Professional Competencies

. But wanting someone to talk to had at least been another excuse to spend time with him after their movie night a couple of evenings earlier. Even if they didn't have a Hammer Horror like The Devil Rides Out to talk over, she was long past the point where his company meant more to her than whatever they were doing.

It was the fifth section however, titled cryptically as '

Compatibility Survey,'

that had utterly upended whatever expectations they might have had. Even after the disclaimer they were asked to agree to, warning them that Delphi accepted no responsibility for the consequences if they failed to accurately answer questions of a personal nature. As Aoife had clicked confirm row after row of numberless sliders had come into view, asking her to adjust them to indicate how much she agreed with each of the hundreds of accompanying statements. It was the questions themselves however that had left both of them checking to see just how much they'd had to drink.

'I prefer sexual/romantic partners older than myself'

'I enjoy or fantasise about being choked or asphyxiated in sexual situations'

'I have pictured myself in sexual situations with multiple partners'

Direct, personal, often explicit, Aoife's initial impulse was to simply close the window. But somehow the pair of them had encouraged each other into answering as their awkward, morbid curiosity had turned into banter, the sheer absurdity of what they were doing defying any attempt to take it too seriously. The order of the questions was randomised for both of them, presumably to try and stop any patterns to their answers, leaving them each to comment whenever they reached one they found particularly amusing, daring each other to be as honest as possible.

Of course there was plenty that she wasn't ready to be entirely honest with herself about, let alone Ethan or some faceless dataset. And one statement in particular so far had left her hand hovering over the mouse when it appeared on screen.

'I am sexually/romantically attracted to people of the same sex'

Yeah, fuck that.

There were some sorts of honesty Aoife really wasn't made for. No matter what her search history might suggest or any disclaimers warned her about. And the denial she'd given with a click was particularly emphatic before she'd quickly moved on, practically running away down the page until she found something else to distract her.

"Hah! You are so fucked when you get to this one," she laughed, before putting on the mockingly over-officious voice she'd adopted for reading them in. "'I would say I masturbate frequently during an average week.'"

There was a wry smile from the video feed of Ethan. "And you're wondering why I keep trying to talk about music? You're sure we can't go back to how terrible your taste is?"

Aoife reached down next to her desk and fetched the final beer from the box she had stashed there. The can cracked open with a hiss, and she looked over her shoulder in the direction of her hastily made bed, and the Bulbasaur plush that resided by her pillow. She'd taken to saluting the stuffed toy with each new drink over the last few days, as if she could convince herself she was sharing her company with it rather than simply drinking alone. And as she did so, it was hard not to notice the electric pink vibrator that had ended up lying on the bed alongside it. She was hardly in a position to give Ethan a hard time. Sipping her beer, she turned back to the question, and quietly moved the slider most of the way towards the end of the line.

"I find the idea of my romantic partners having intimate body piercings, ie. nipples and genitals, to be sexually gratifying," Ethan read his next question with more than a little incredulity. "Who the hell chose how they were going to word these? It's like they're trying to be polite and just making it weirder."

The question was enough for Aoife to suddenly become over-aware of her own nipple rings, sensitive beneath her clothes. She'd got them done after breaking up with her last boyfriend, a final confidence boosting act of defiance, knowing how much he'd have liked to see them and that he never would.

"So, what's the answer," she asked, knowing any sudden hesitation on her part would only risk drawing more attention to herself on that particular point.

Ethan tried to play things cool, but failed entirely to hide his embarrassment as he made his own bid for understatement. "Well...I mean, I guess...it depends who's wearing them."

He couldn't have been much more obvious with his answer if he'd come outright and stated his appreciation, but what Aoife hadn't expected was the warm kick of her own arousal as a result. She cursed inwardly, realising she was playing with fire, and did her best not to let her thoughts daydream about what he'd think of hers. For a second she considered teasing him with the knowledge of her own, wondering if he'd ask for proof or if he'd be English and awkward about it. But she quickly chickened out and hid behind a swig of her beer, deciding she could take her cowardice out on her vibrator later.

"Riiiiight. You know if you want to try again and see if you can hide that better, I'll pretend I didn't hear you the first time."

"Can I just pass instead?"

"The questionnaire said no skips, so no, you absolutely cannot."

A middle finger appeared in the centre of Ethan's cam feed, causing Aoife to laugh, deciding to let him off the hook and simply take the win. Instead she went back to looking for questions of her own to share. Before she could find any however, he spoke again, although his voice was more thoughtful this time.

"You said you put 'single,' back where it was asking for your personal details, right?"

Aoife hesitated, trying to puzzle out the direction he was about to take things. "Yeah? Why?" If there was one thing she hated talking about with him it was relationship statuses, sure in her own knowledge that her interest wasn't going to be reciprocated, and that any conversation was just going to shine a spotlight on unwanted feelings.

"I dunno. I can't shake that I'm missing the point of all this and why it's called a 'Compatibility Survey.' Like, compatible with what?"

Mentally, Aoife cursed at him and the unease that had suddenly appeared. Why did he always have to be an asshole and make so much sense? They weren't being given a huge choice on cooperating with things, so why couldn't he have left the weirdness feeling fun rather than uncomfortable? Her frustration built, and she tried to convince herself that she wasn't feeling over-exposed. "You're over thinking things. Like you said, it's probably just some shady research project Palisade are getting kickbacks for being involved with."

The suspicion still felt the most plausible, the only reason she could think of for any of this was some social sciences bullshit with them as the guinea pigs, and her opinion of Palisade certainly wasn't high enough not to put it past them.

"Yeah but-"

He started again, but she cut him off. "Besides, if you're not single, then who would you put down?"

Instantly, Aoife regretted the question. Was there someone he wanted to put there? There was a pause that went on just slightly too long, and she filled it with her anxiety, waiting to hear how he must have been messaging with the woman from the government, Evie. Or that there was someone back home he had feelings for. Not that she could blame him if it was the former, she'd go weak at the knees for someone like that too. Evie was everything Aoife thought she wasn't, and it was just a matter of hearing Ethan say her name.

Eventually Ethan frowned. "...yeah, you're right, never mind. I am overthinking this."

It went quiet, the song the only sound still coming through her headphones, the energy of the synth beats suddenly feeling off kilter as it built to the belated drop Ethan had complained about.

'Will you meet me more than halfway up?'

She could just be honest and say how she felt. But that was another sort of honesty Aoife wasn't made for. Instead, she simply fought the urge to sulk, and skipped forward to the next track.

*****

26th October 2020

Aoife woke to find Hayley watching her, the other woman back in position in the hallway outside the bedroom door. It was light now at least, meaning the jump scare she got came less hard than it would have done otherwise, but not so soft that it didn't cause the green haired engineer to swear loudly in surprise.

She had been allowed to sleep, fitfully, eventually, with the door being locked when neither Anas nor his sister-in-law had been able to stay up to watch her any longer. She'd been far too cold, with the renovations of the house not yet extending to the central heating in the back bedroom, leaving her breath clouding the air even as she pulled the blankets she'd been given around her. But that wasn't the main reason she'd slept like shit. Nor was the fact she couldn't leave to use the bathroom like she needed. Rather the weird mixture of fear, sadness and guilt was more than enough to keep her from settling and she'd instead ended up getting up several times in the night to test the window, despite knowing that the recently reglazed glass wasn't suddenly going to yield to her efforts any more than it had done previously. But that wasn't the point. She just needed a way to try and shift the feelings that sat tangibly on her chest; like some b-movie monster, looming in the dark.

As she stirred, Hayley didn't move. The previous day, the blonde woman had mostly stood outside the room, arms folded, but now she was sitting on the exposed floorboards, back leant against the hallway's wallpaper. She looked terrible, her breathing shallow and laboured, a faint sheen of perspiration visible on sallow skin, but that's not what Aoife noticed about her first. Instead, it was the look on her face, and how intense her eyes were, even with the obvious fatigue they were struggling against.

Aoife had never seen anyone look as angry at the world as Hayley did, cold and quiet as iron. Hard enough that you could forge an edge into it.

For once, finding some snarky comment to snap back with didn't come easy to Aoife and she stumbled, half awake, over her own discomfort. The last thing she wanted to do was pity the bitch who'd dragged her out here. But it was almost impossible not to, even if it sat alongside her own fear and resentment, and she heard herself simply mumbling with what little derision she could muster.

"Morning."

The scarf was back, wrapped around Hayley's face, and there was no acknowledgement of Aoife's 'greeting' as the blonde coughed into the faded wool. The attempt to clear her chest was weak however, little more than a wheeze that rasped and rattled through what energy she seemed to have. It took her several seconds more before she recovered enough to be able to speak.

"I shouldn't have let Anas take charge of asking you questions...waste of damned time..."

That felt hard to argue with. They both knew Hayley only had so much of it left. One of them knew it from the broadcast she'd seen at Taymont, and the other from painful personal experience she barely had a name or context for. Just the understanding that what she'd watched happen to her husband was happening to her too. It was one of the things that Aoife had laid there with overnight, trying to remember just how long the footage had implied Hayley would have left if she had DuoHalo. Hours? A day or two at most? She'd never seen anyone actually die. The idea of being there for it terrified her. And she hated that that was the weird, selfish little issue that she kept going back to, the thought demanding she keep vividly picking at it.

"Yeah, well," she replied, "who says you'd have done any better?"

Hayley picked up on the resentment that was still obvious in Aoife's voice, and responded flatly. "You want me to give you an apology for bringing you here?"

Continuing to rouse fully, Aoife shifted to sit up. She was still dressed in her clothes from the day before, having slept in everything but her coat to keep away the chill, but everything felt grubby and unpleasant now. Her stomach growled, and she realised someone had left a banana for her next to the bed, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to eat either.

"Well it's not like I'm going to get one, is it?"

Hayley gave as much of a shake of her head as her energy allowed. "I don't want to be doing this to you. But I'm not going to just go quietly. I promised my husband I'd do whatever I could to keep Layla safe." Layla. At least Aoife finally had a name to put to the hungry crying that kept coming from elsewhere in the house, even if knowing it just made things harder. "And I'm going to rage against whatever this is. Until I can't anymore. Because if it's her or you? I pick her every time."

Aoife couldn't work out how much Hayley was trying to reiterate that to herself. It hadn't escaped her notice that, from the moment they'd arrived, Hayley had refused to step into the same room as her and had done her best to keep using her scarf as some feeble substitute for a mask. At least some part of the other woman's conscience felt the need to tell herself that she was doing what she could to minimise any harm she was causing. But then that obviously only went so far. And even as the rest of her words faltered the conviction in the blonde woman's voice for that final statement was unmistakable.

Not that it really mattered at this point. Aoife had seen on the report just how transmissible DuoHalo was and she knew any damage had already been done. She'd had enough time the night before to reason out that she was almost certainly infected now too, no matter what value Hayley put on it. And no matter how well she felt or how abstract the idea remained, sitting just out of reach of what she could bring herself to grasp at. She just worried about how and when the thought of it would come crashing down into her.

It was real enough for her to remain bitter at Hayley, however, and she tried to force herself to be dismissive. "Yeah, save the speeches. You sound like a shitty super villain."

Hayley made a face, and left Aoife feeling guiltier than she expected. She hated that. She wanted to stay angry, not feel ashamed. It's not like she asked for any of this to happen to the other woman, so why was she being made to feel responsible?