Logs:Conspiracy Hypotheses

Conspiracy Hypotheses
Dramatis Personae Lily, Skye	2021-07-06 “How did you do that?”
Location <NYC> Lily's AirBnB - Lower East Side
It's a scorching hot day, and worse in the solar oven that is Manhattan. Skye is dressed for the heat, anyway, in a pale pink cropped top -- unbuttoned far enough to show a bit of cleavage -- black cutoff shorts, and black ankle strap pumps. Her makeup is minimal, nude eye shadow and lip stick both with a hint of shimmer, and her hair is done up in an apparently casual bun from which a single long lock has escaped to dangle beside her face just so. She wears dangly DNA earrings and her black leather choker has a continuous strand of rainbow DNA painted on it. She's carrying a plastic carryout bag decorated with cute cartoon skulls that she holds up after knocking briskly at Lily's door. From inside the ground floor apartment, below the hum of the window unit air conditioner there is the faintest hint of music playing before Skye knocks. It cuts off a moment later, followed padded footsteps and the creak of the door opening. Lily is looking more like the heat got to her — her face is bare, the pieces of hair falling from her braid hanging limp with sweat and humidity over her shoulders. She’s wearing a baggy red v-neck shirt, emblazoned with white double Us, loose over high waisted running shorts. Seeing Skye, Lily frowns, one hand going to rub at an earring. “Uh, hi.” She looks around, as if expecting someone to be behind Skye’s shoulder. “Are you looking for someone? The guy that normally lives here isn’t back for another six weeks.” "Hey," says Skye, looking just a little sheepish as she pushes the stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "My name's Skye, I'm--I was a friend of your bother's. Sorry to drop in out of the blue, but I need to talk to you." She leans against the outside of the door frame, offering a small, uncertain smile and the slightest tilt of her head. "I brought boba, if that sways you." "Which one?" The words snap out quickly, and Lily looks mildly embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry. Dawson, obviously." She twists an earring once, eyes dropping to the bag at Skye's side. She presses her lips together, tight, then steps aside, opening the door a little more. "Let's talk, then." The apartment behind Lily is sparsely furnished, the immediately apparent living space dominated by one (1) couch, one (1) IKEA coffee table, and five (5) cardboard moving boxes, stacked and pushed into corners. Lily's laptop is half shut on the top of the coffee table, a metal water bottle uncapped beside it. The floor is bare -- a few pairs of shoes are stacked by a closed door. The box air conditioner rattles along, gently buffetting the edges of the curtains. Lily pushes the door closed behind Skye. "I've... Have I seen you before? Like, last fall? When everything was happening?" Skye steps inside and looks around, her eyes taking in first the windows and then lingering on Lily's computer. "Yeah," she says softly, looking back at Lily. "Dawson. I'm sorry for your loss." She sets the plastic bag on the coffee table, then fiddles with her phone for a moment before slipping it back into her purse. "Would you mind turning off your computer and shutting those curtains?" She asks this very casually as she kneels to unload the bag: a drink carrier with two sealed plastic cups of bubble tea, and three small cardboard boxes. "I got karaage, some fries, and those little egg cakes." Lily doesn't say anything to the condolences, eyes narrowing a little bit. She watches Skye get comfortable from the back of couch, arms crossed over her chest. “Has boba been criminalized?” Its a weak attempt at a joke. She only hesitates another moment before pulling the curtains. She joins Skye at the coffee table, flipping the lid of her laptop up and pressing, deliberately, on the power button until the screen goes black. "You know, there is a tapioca shortage going on," Skye replies lightly as she plucks up one of the cups and stabs a big fat straw through the cover. "This might be some black market boba." She waits until the laptop shuts off, then produces a flatish black plastic box from her purse and sets it on the table, flicking a switch in its side. A stream of surprisingly soothing white noise pours out to fill the room. "So." Her dark brown eyes watch Lily steadily. "I'm here about Prometheus." “The more you know,” Lily says, very much not reaching for a cup. She stands back up, arms crossed, watching Skye’s box with interest. Her eyes widen a touch at the mention of Prometheus, lips pressing together into a narrow line. “Right. You’ll have to be more specific.” Her fingertips curl tighter against her arm, pressing deep into the skin and discolouring it there. Skye pops open one of the boxes and spears a chunk of fried chicken with one of the provided bamboo skewers. "You worked for them. But I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt for Dawson's sake." Her lips press together. "Well, not just that. I saw you out there during the protests. I did a lot of transport, and some logistics, comms, support. You reminded me of him, and that's..." She blinks rapidly, not looking at Lily now, and finally pops the chicken into her mouth. "I want intel. Names of other Prometheus employees, companies they contract, location of their facilities. Anything you got. I know that's risky for you." She tips her skewer the box. "That's why all the tinfoil hat shit." Lily doesn’t interrupt, but there is a tension in her face, tightness in her jaw, that doesn’t disappear or ease as Skye talks. There’s a pause when Skye finishes, a silence that, even filled with white noise, goes on a moment longer is comfortable. “I was an intern,” she hedges when she breaks the silence. “But you know that.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I got, like, I can fill a flash drive with some of that today. Some stuff I can get. Some stuff I can’t from the outside.” Her teeth catch her lip. “Were you in there?” Skye's shoulders relax a little when Lily answers. "Thank you." She drinks her tea and fidgets with a smooth jade ring she slipped off of her index finger. "I wasn't -- in there. But a lot of people I care about were." Her eyes finally lift back up to Lily's face. "I want to believe you didn't know what was really going on in that program, but like -- did you ever suspect?" The ‘thanks’ is enough for the tension to ease out of Lily’s posture. She finally, gingerly, reaches for the second cup of boba, taking it in hand and sipping almost cautiously. “I keep hearing. I’m sorry.” At the question, Lily stills, tapioca pearl suspended in the middle of the straw. Moves the plastic cup away from her mouth, jaw clenched again. “Intern,” she grits out. “I didn’t know shit beyond my own cell cultures.” She raises the cup back to her lips, as if that is that — lowers it again, hesitating. “There is... a lot of distrust, for any biomedical research lab. And rumours. They experiment on fetuses. They do illegal cloning. They’re manufacturing bioweapon viruses.” She shrugs, small. “When you go into clinical research in a place like that, doing cell work, you have to pretend like those rumours don’t bother you. Most of the time, they’re fake, or deliberately misconstrued facts.” She bites her lip again. “Someone tried to warn me. I brushed them off. And my access was. Limited. But. I could have put it together. Feel stupid I didn’t it.” She runs a finger over the rim of the cup. "I wouldn't have, if I'd known. And I want them gone, same as the rest of you." Lily cringes, corrects herself -- "Not the same. But I want them gone. I'll do whatever I can. I've been -- collecting data for a few months now." She gestures to the static computer. "All yours, if it helps." Skye's expression tightens a little, but she unclenches her jaw quickly. "Look. I'm not suspicious because I think you are personally 'bad', or whatever. I don't even know you." She shrugs, and almost looks casual doing it. "But I know people, and people are really fucking good at looking the other way, or telling themselves that's just the way things are, there's nothing they can do about it." She tucks her loose tress of hair back again, even though it hasn't actually come loose. "You know lots of shit is unethical but 100% legal, no conspiracy theories needed. But as long as it's only happening to poor people, or immigrants, or." She lays the ring flat in her hand and it starts vibrating, the movement itself barely visible, but the eerie clear tone it emits impossible to ignore. "Mutants? Most Americans aren't gonna do shit except maybe act outraged on social media." Her hand closes around the ring and the vibrating stops. "I don't know if it'll help, but I'll do my best." Lily presses her lips together, tight. Her expression, still fairly stoney, crumbles into hurt for just a brief moment. She nods at the first things Skye says, fingers pushing the plastic of the boba cup in, in, in. Her grip goes slack when the ring begins to hum, her gaze sliding from Skye’s face to the woman’s palm as her eyes widen. In a mimicry of Skye, Lily pulls a stud earring from her ear, lays it flat in her palm and — nothing happens. It’s unclear what she expected to happen, but nothing clearly wasn’t the expected result. Lily looks up, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you do that?” Her voice is tinged with confusion and alarm. Skye blinks at the question, her expression startled and confused before it goes kind of flat. "Mutant," she repeats, enunciating the word clearly. "I'm a mutant. I have the power." She turns her hand over with a flourish, and suddenly the jade ring is back on her finger. "Not that. That's sleight of hand. This is my power --" Her gaze focuses on the earring in Lily's hand, which starts to vibrate fiercely. Its twin, still in her ear, buzzes more sedately. She drops her hand and both go still again. Lily stares at the earring as it buzzes, brows knitting closer and closer together. Stares at it harder, eyes growing wider still. Her fingers snap shut around the earring after a moment as she looks up. “Yeah, no you aren’t. My mutant power is to copy other mutants. And I can’t copy you. So.” She slips the stud back into its place. “Is that the only lie you told me?” There’s some fear in that question, but also some hope in her tone. Skye's eyes narrow. "Where do you get off calling me a liar when I literally just showed you? How the actual fuck could I even lie about that? But I'm apparently supposed to take your word that you're a mutant. If you are, maybe you just --" She sucks in a deep breath and lets it back out. "Whatever. I'd be paranoid, too. I am paranoid, probably way more than you." She chews on the end of her straw. "Ask Hive if you want. I'm his roommate. I can wait for the files." Lily winces, fingers hovering over the just-replaced earring. "I don't know how you would -- I just. You don't have the x-gene." She sounds almost apologetic, not accusatory. "I'm sorry. I probably -- definitely have the burden of proof, here." She lights up, slightly, at Hive's name, but it's quickly followed by a small frown. "Oh, that's -- you're his roommate. Yeah, that's -- I can work with that." She pauses, adds -- "He can. Probably confirm. That I'm not fucking with you. If you want to text him." She cautiously reaches for her laptop, flipping it open but looking to Skye with her finger over the power button. "What, are you a walking DNA test, too?" Skye sounds more incredulous than angry. "But there's like no way I'd even have powers otherwise." She shakes her head. "I'd have to turn off the jammer to text anyone. Oh, uh -- by the way, I'm jamming wifi and mobile frequencies. Some others, too. Sorry." This apology actually sounds sincere. "And like...I dunno. Powers are weird sometimes. Just cuz you can't copy me that doesn't mean I'm Captain fucking..." She trails off, paling visibly. "...America." “Kind of?” Lily sucks at the straw of her tea for a moment, gnawing on the plastic end. “It’s- I did my own testing, but it wasn’t like, a well designed experiment or anything, but. I can show you that data, if you want.” She doesn’t sound confident anyone would want to see that data. “Oh, then, is it safe to...” Lily seems to come to the conclusion it is, in fact, safe to boot up her laptop again, presses the power button down. “He doesn’t set me off, either,” Lily says, shrugging before looking up at Skye again. “Which, super serum, sure—“ She cuts off, eyes going wide. “You weren’t ever in there?” She’s not accusatory, but there is alarm in her voice. Skye recovers her composure quickly, or at least covers its lapse up quickly, the scrunch of her eyes now profoundly skeptical. "Kind of," she echoes. "You probably should probably do better than 'kind of' before declaring a major breakthrough in x-genetics? Occam's Razor says it's way more likely your power doesn't work on all mutants, or you're not as good at it you think, no offense." Her words come faster, more agitated. "I was never in there, ok? And if there were a new super serum -- if there's been one since I manifested? I would know about it." She watches the computer suspiciously as it boots up. "Could still record everything you do and transmit later, so it's safest if you let me check it over. Or if you wipe it clean slash destroy it." Lily's lips press together, snorts softly. "Sure, let me just do extensive comparative tests of my DNA after walking through Evolve to the DNA of every mutant there. Sounds easy and ethical." She sighs, logs into her account. "Could be that," she admits reluctantly, "just -- never failed before, is all." She pushes the laptop to Skye, gestures to it. "Rather you didn't destroy it, but, be my guest." For the first time Lily looks to the karaage, selecting a skewer and stabbing a piece. Skye arches one eyebrow high. "I mean, you're the scientist here, but I'm pretty sure you can like. Get informed consent and compensate people for research? Mendel Clinic does shit like that." She swallows and adds, much more quietly, "Prometheus used to." She pulls the laptop over, hastily peeling a cartoon skull sticker ("half sugar!" it reads, in Chinese) from her boba cup and covering the camera before the OS finishes booting. Then she's typing away rapidly, eyes flicking over the screen. "Honestly, you're just as likely to be monitored by the FBI or DHS for your part in those protests, AKA 'domestic terrorism'." Her face twists with disgust. "Medics probably aren't a high priority to them, but the feds data mine fucking everything. That's not paranoia, you can read about it in their own reports." She looks up at Lily thoughtfully. "I dunno if you're trying to stay in activism, or if that was just -- for Dawson." "Sure, if I had a lab, or changed my PhD project, or whatever." Lily sounds less dismissive now, though, a little bit of flush tinging her cheeks. She swallows the fried chicken, watches Skye go to work on her laptop with a slightly distant expression. "Never thought to read those reports," she admits. She's quiet for another moment. "It started for him." Her voice is a little quieter, a little strained. "I think I'd like to, though. It felt..." Lily trails off, brows furrowing. "Doesn't really matter, how it felt. I want to, though." "Not my wheelhouse," says Skye. "But I know this shit is weird and like, let's be real here, no one actually understands how the fuck our powers work." She shrugs and sucks determinedly at her tea. "Alright, looks your computer isn't spying on you. Except all the normal ways, which Big Brother can also access." She pushes the laptop back to Lily. "Nothing wrong with feeling good about your activism IMO, or even feeling like you gotta make up for your uh, internship." She looks down at the jamming/white noise device on the table. "It can be all that and also about making things better, as long as you're aware of and dealing with the baggage you bring to the work. You don't have to be a saint to do good." Lily nods, sucks another pearl out of her own tea before taking the laptop back. She tabs over to a folder, opens it up -- it's not huge, but there are a lot of files in it with opaque naming schemes. "A saint," she echoes softly. "We're out of those in my family, I think." She stands up and walks to a bedroom door. "I'll grab a flashdrive. Feel free to check if any of that helps you."