Aggy and the Dinos

Chapter 2

Dean sat in his individual work pod, and breathed the sigh of the contented intellectual. The pods were an admiral achievement of science and engineering in themselves; designed to interact directly with the user, the pod allowed Dean to programme his own working environment specifically for his own needs. The less intellectual sounds of Radio 1 emitted from the speakers – the pod was designed so that the music would not reach anyone else working in the room. The smartglass, on which he could display documents and e-mails independently of his computer, was currently alive with pulsing spirals of colour that danced around him, creating a cocoon of pure, beautiful -

"Scuse me." Said a voice. A face was looking at him over the top of the glass, of the female denomination. She reached over with a gloved hand and beckoned to him for the Styrofoam cup on his desk.

"Give us that, love. Dean, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Cheers." He handed her the cup and make too much eye contact while he searched for something else to say. Her eyes flicked over the screen, then back to him.

"Ta." She said, and disappeared.

"Is it wrong to think she's quite fit?" said Brian without looking up from his computer.

"Concentrate, for Einstein's sake." said Jordie.

"Pretty fit," said Sean, ignoring him.

"Fit," nodded Dean. "What's her name again?"

"Aggy."

Aggy Rasmussen was one of society's displaced children. Whilst capable of doing many things, she suffered from indecision and therefore usually made the wrong choice, realising only later on. She had grown up in what could be called a disadvantaged neighbourhood, and had worked sufficiently hard at a number of dead end jobs to make it as far as Hammersmith. Having separated herself too far from mainstream society to get a job in government, she had found the people who tackled politics from the shadows. It was a dark and murky world, and Aggy belonged in it.

"The new boys in the lab are clean – so far," said Aggy, gesticulating vaguely with her falafel pitta. She was sitting in a dark, luxuriously cushioned room that made up the headquarters of the Anti-Cloning League, opposite a serious woman who's many-ringed hands held a thick paper file, given to her by Aggy at the start of the meeting. The movement was not large; there was not much demand to supply by way of rogue cloning researchers, but they took themselves very seriously. Aggy was one of their top undercover workers – she was short, a bit stodgy looking, and an obvious vegetarian. Underneath the peace and love appearance was an injustice-seeking maniac with a lying streak wider than the M25; she was patient, efficient, with almost flawless instincts for deception.

"Evergreen's breaking the law." She said thickly, through a mouthful of salad.

"You have evidence?"

"Nope. He doesn't really know he's going to do it himself – but he's unstable, depressed, and frustrated – my guess is that he was close to a breakthrough when the legislation was passed. He has the look of a man who has been robbed."

Aggy did not disagree with cloning for medical reasons per se, making her an unusual candidate for an extremist group; her fear was that it wouldn't stop at medical research. She anticipated a world in which the working class were cloned to prolong the lives and wealth of the select few; a new kind of cruelty towards the less-fortunate of her planet. She detested the upper class, the idea of wealth without effort, of respect without merit, of tradition without question.

"Well, carry on. Find us something. Find it soon. If no one in there is guilty of anything, then we have better uses for you."

Aggy's role in the running of I.Q.ltd was of 'Domestic Hygienist', which is modern English for cleaner. It meant that she could mop floors, but she couldn't touch equipment – there were Industrial Hygienists for that. Recently, she had been banned from Evergreen's personal working space. He said it was being refitted – 'out with the old, in with the new', he'd joked – but you can't bullshit a bullshitter of Aggy's quality. He was up to something naughty. She had to get into the lab, and for that she needed the new boys. They were zealous, un-jaded, and could probably be made to spy without ever knowing they were doing it. She knew where they went for a drink after work on Fridays – it was time she went and made herself some new friends.