As the students drop off their completed tests on my desk, I open and close the hand that had sealed a truce between Emer and myself. As the last test is submitted to me, I straighten the stack of papers and walk to my office.

I was not expecting a certain man to be waiting by the door. Despite his progressively aging features, he continues to bare a brazen countenance. I reach out to shake his hand, but he does not return the gesture. Unlike Emer, we have not formed a begrudging understanding.

“Let’s go into your office,” he says, and although I allow no one inside my office without an appointment, I rest my hand on the scanner. He pushes me aside on his way in, causing the tests to fall from my hands. With a straight back, I retrieve them and follow in after him.

“Is this the pill?” He lifts the vial from my desk. I restrain myself from lurching forward and snatching it from his hands. “You’ve only made one?”

“I am still perfecting it.”

“That’s not what I heard from those who attended your pitch meeting.” He sets the vial down, and I exhale in relief. Unfortunately, he sees my reaction and scowls. “You understand that with the woman here, we have to take additional precautions?”

“I understand.”

“Then why is there only one pill?” He shouts. “How can you call yourself competent if you are not even the slightest bit prepared for the worst consequence?”

“Well - “

“I had you take my place at the meeting yesterday for a reason. Yet I come back, and you haven’t done anything? What do you do around here, Lay? Do you do anything besides drawing in your notebook?”

I raise my head. “You insult me, sir.”

He scoffs. “You actually have the impudence to accuse me of that. Don’t forget that I can give my position to anyone else. Your being the youngest scientist at your level does not protect you from my decision.

“You must make more of these,” he slams his hand on my desk. The vial falls over and breaks. The pill rolls before coming to a stop by a small shard of glass. “That woman is more dangerous than you think. This whole Institute is made of idiots who think she won’t find anything. She is curious and obstinate. She’ll expose us if we aren’t careful.”

“You’re complementing her.”

“It’s a fact, Lay. A fact that I know because I knew her father.”

That, I did not know. “Fine. So I’ll make more pills.”

“Something you should already be doing.” He takes a step forward, his foot inches away from the pill. “As an inventor, you have to break ethical and moral barriers in order to succeed. The Institute is what it is because of what I had to do.” The shadow of his shoe hovers over the pill. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do. And please don’t step on that.” Although I hate having to look weak before him, I drop to my knees and scoop the pill into my hands. I would rather sacrifice my pride than my creation.

He shakes his head. “As much as I dislike you, I can’t deny your usefulness. You’re just like me.”

I want to be anything but this old, stupid man, but I nod. “I’ll start right now, Ves.”

Without another word, he leaves my office. I instantly grab another vial from my desk and deposit the pill inside. Deciding that leaving it on my desk for anyone to touch is no longer an option, I tuck it inside the pocket of my jacket.

I won’t be bothered to clean the glass off the floor. If he ever comes back and tries to step on my things again, then I hope an unnaturally sharp piece cuts through his shoe.

I admired the man while I was a student in the Institute – or perhaps “feared” is a better expression because, while he knew more than twenty of our professors combined, he seemed to teach with a candor that terrified me. He never hesitated to teach us about the Institute’s past unethical decisions and the things we had done to produce successful Exons. But he did hide one thing. He was often absent from class and, whenever we inquired about him, we were always treated with vague responses. It was not until we graduated when we found out that he had been involved with the Government. It was then I realized that the Institute has as many sins as secrets.

But as a professor who is only interested in the advancement of the scientific, it would be problematic of me to start caring for anything other than myself. If there is one formula that has consistently benefited me, it is that anything that does not concern me is unnecessary. Therefore, I did not seek a clarification of his background.

Taking my journal and pen, I leave for the vault. Starting with the very first 2^nd Generation Exon, I begin to play back its memories. Every 2^nd Gen Exon contains a memory chip that can only be retracted by damaging the pieces that make up its chest. It was designed this way so that those other than the Institute who had possession of an Exon would not be able to extract information from it. Normally, the Institute could retrieve the chip without inflicting damage on the unit, but ever since the dissolving of the 2^nd Gen, we have lost the required tools. As a result, we have had to create a new method by which we can remove or clear the memory chip without causing notable change.

It started out as a panic-driven project. A handful of workers left the Institute. Others were publicly antagonistic towards the Government. We had to redesign several machines and project sites. We lost hundreds of supplies and data that had taken years to gather. In the midst of this sudden negative change, the Institute was at its most vulnerable state and had to find a way to insure itself. So I, a professor’s assistant at the time, was given the task to find the means to erase any incriminating information an Exon might have against the Institute. It was a good thing, as well, because had anyone else been assigned the project, they would have discovered that I had been experimenting with the 2^nd Gen’s visceral capacities.

Before the Government came for their last inspection, we moved all of our 2^nd Gen into the vault, which is where we kept our 1^st Gen Exons as well as Exon aberrations. We spent the entire night deactivating the Exons and deleting or transferring information the Government may find suspicious. Back then, I believed that our panic was a product of fear of elimination. For someone who boasted about his ‘infinite wisdom’, I was impeccably obtuse.

Throughout several promotions and limited resources, I continued to research and experiment on what is now the pill in my pocket. There were complications. There were unavoidable drawbacks. I first began my tests on the newest Exon, working my way down the line until I finally succeeded with 2E – S18 – 19. The pill could erase any emotional memory, thereby eliminating the suspicion of humanity within Exons; however, it had to be custom made, as not one Exon contained the same emotional memory as another. With 2E – S18 – 19, the pill I created eliminated his ties to his previous owner. It was a beautiful result.

Now, I begin the process of creating another pill by watching the memories of 2E – 1L – 20. I am particularly fond of this Exon because I directly supervised his inception. In addition, he was my most successful experiment. With a machine I created just for this project, I can safely view every Exon’s data. As record of his visual and audial occurrences play on the small screen before me, I record which scenes contained the most intense emotional frequency.

“I can’t prevent this,” the Exon’s voice bounces out of the speakers. I lower the volume. “It’s a feature created by the institute in case of – “

“I don’t care that it’s mandatory. I hate it. And I hate you,” Emer bites back. My, my. What a consistently brash woman.

“I hate myself, too.”

“You do?”

“I can’t make you like me. Satisfaction guaranteed. That’s what the Institute advertises. But you’re not satisfied, are you? With me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what can I do to make you love me?”

I laugh as the radar spikes. I quickly record the data and continue watching.

“It’s called kissing, Luhan.” I could get second hand embarrassment from this.

“Kissing?”

“Yeah, you know, something two people do with each other when, I don’t know, when they feel like it.”

“Is it hard?”

“How would I know? Would you stop asking me?”

“I’ve never seen it before. Could you teach me?”

This has to be the most stupid yet entertaining love story I have ever seen. Nonetheless, I am impressed.

Later on, I watch as 2E – 1L – 20 attempts to scratch the tattoo we branded on his wrist. Throughout this quiet endeavor, his emotional levels spike higher and higher. I take note of this, as well.

“I’m scared of you, Luhan.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I’m scared that I might fall deeper in love with you.”

Oh, for goodness sake.

“What if I lose you? What if the Institute tries to take you back? I lost my dad. I don’t want to lose you. So please go away.”

“You asked me to go away once, and I listened to you. But I’m not going to listen to you this time.”

Well, that’s very rude. They kiss, and the emotional levels reach a record high. I create a footnote on the timeline that says “pivotal”.

I record information for the next few hours, taking note of every thing no matter how small it may be. His visceral data is the highest I have seen in an Exon, so I can presume that the creation of his pill will take longer than the rest.

As I near the end, I don’t expect to see what I do. I am not a man who is easily shocked, but what occurs is enough to stop me from recording. The Exon does the unthinkable, and the last thing I see before he is deactivated is the Institute workers attempting to do an emergency shutdown.

Deciding to keep it off the record, I shut down the system and begin devising the pill. A couple of hours pass, and I am still not finished. Intending to continue this tomorrow, I pack my things.

It is past midnight when I return to my office. The halls are empty, although lights are on in several offices. I turn the corner only to see Emer standing in front of the door. A foreign sense of guilt stops me from moving. I clear my throat, and she looks at me.

“Is this your office?”

“I’ll assume you asked that because you didn’t see my name on the door.”

She laughs awkwardly. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be here right now.”

“As long as they know where you are, they don’t care what you do.” I stand next to her and am about to place my hand on the scanner when she interrupts me.

“What about the North Wing?”

“That’s just the production site. You can look at that all you want.”

“No. There’s something else there, isn’t it?”

“Waste. Junk. Things we don’t need.”

“Dian says you’ve recycled all your Exons, but you’ve kept them, haven’t you? And you hid them from the Government.”

Ves was right. She’s curious.

“Let me explain something to you, Emer.” I fold my glasses and slide them into my pocket. “Just because we formed a truce does not give you reason to ask me questions with the assumption that I’ll actually answer them. So I advise that if you want to do any investigating, you don’t involve me.”

“Fine.” She bites her lip. I recognize the tick from when I was watching that Exon’s memories earlier.

“How’s your mother?”

She frowns. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s common knowledge that your mother was demoted. It’s an innocent question.”

A small smirk curves her lips. “Just because we formed a truce does not give you reason to ask me questions with the assumption that I’ll actually answer them.”

What a charming woman. “Fair enough.” I rest my hand on the scanner, and the door opens. “Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll tell you one thing. There’s someone working in the Institute who knew your father.”

The door begins to close. She jumps forward. “What? Who?”

“I’m not obliged to answer.” And I shut the door.