The Other Tree Read Online Free Page A

expenditure by the university. The Botanical Sciences department had managed to convince senior management that growing specimens hydroponically would allow more campus land to be released for commercial use. They had even invited a “hydroponics specialist” to give a presentation, and although he hadn’t been entirely coherent, the photographs had been very impressive, if incriminating.
    Chris and Emir slipped through the white double doors into the empty lab, where row upon row of yellow seedlings basked under banks of hanging lights.
    “Those Petri dishes are the fungal experiments, but the fruit flies from the genetics lab keep getting in and eating them,” said Chris.
    The university had become a veritable Galapagos of mutant fruit flies, reigning terror over the vegan student population. Emir looked over the rows of benches and beakers, a hint of wistfulness in his expression.
    “Sometimes I wish I’d kept studying,” said Emir, the regret in his voice mingled with something else.
    “What are you doing, these days?” Chris hopped onto a lab stool.
    “I’m in artefact identification and retrieval. Muscle, really.”
    Silence drifted through the sunny lab, and Emir stared out the window, watching as students rushed between lectures, arms laden with folders and partly eaten snacks. Emir shifted uncomfortably, and something dark flashed briefly across his face before he turned to Chris.
    “Chris, I’m on the SinaCorp mission.”
    Chris didn’t move.
    “I wondered, why now. But sending you to convince me—that’s tacky.”
    “They didn’t send me. Well, they asked me. But I wanted—” He exhaled sharply. “Your degree is wasted here. You’re wasted here. You shouldn’t have to beg for grants so you can write one lousy paper. With your skills, you should have a fully staffed lab, with actual equipment. You could be making things happen. You still feel that way, don’t you?”
    “I guess you’re the good cop,” said Chris.
    Emir flinched. “I guess I deserved that.”
    No, thought Chris, looking away. You didn’t .
    “I know you still blame SinaCorp,” said Emir. “But maybe you can finish what your mother started. Maybe this is a chance for SinaCorp to make up for what happened in some way, to help you get what you deserve.”
    That could be read in so many different ways , thought Chris.
    “I’ll never trust SinaCorp,” said Chris. “And neither should you.”
    “It’s not about trust. It’s about looking out for yourself. You can’t rely on fate, or charity, or luck. You either take the chance to get ahead, or you waste your life wondering.”
    It was the same face , thought Chris. The hair was a little shorter, the cheekbones a touch sharper, but they were the same features. Only the eyes had changed. Something in them had grown a little harder, something had taken a little of the light away.
    “You’ve changed,” said Chris.
    “You haven’t.”
    Emir headed towards the doors.
    “Marrick wants to see you,” he said. “Your call.”
    * * *
    Curiosity was the hallmark of scientists everywhere, and often also their epitaph. The path to knowledge was littered with the bodies of recklessly determined men and women who had exposed themselves to strange radiation, swallowed vials of unfriendly bacteria, and combined chemicals that probably should not have been put in the same universe, all in the name of answering that all-powerful “I wonder what would happen if…?”
    Chris told herself that it was this kind of selfless curiosity which had drawn her to SinaCorp’s headquarters, rather than the kind of curiosity which tempted people to inspect the contents of other people’s bathroom cabinets and handbags.
    Nice floors , thought Chris, as she followed the man called Hoyle towards the elevators.
    The floor of the reception hall was crisp, white marble, with very faint veins of gold, as though ornamental fish were gliding beneath the surface. Immaculately dressed staff stood