‘This is the incubation room,’ Mr Li, who seemed a little out of breath from the brisk walk, explained.
His assistant flipped a switch and a row of cool white strip lights flickered on, illuminating the long, narrow space. The Norsemen drew in sharp breaths of surprise at the sight that the light revealed: stretching down the length of the room was a seemingly endless row of baby incubators, each occupied by a single sleeping infant.
‘This is where the product begins its journey,’ Mr Li said. ‘Let’s have a look at one of the specimens. Come, over here, come close and see the attention to detail! We’ve spared no expenses.’
Sigurd and Hrothgar walked over to the nearest incubator while the manageress glared with unabashed impatience at them. Mr Li pointed at a computer set up on the wall next to the incubator, from which a vine-tangle of cables hung, all of which were attached to a number of mechanical apparatuses both inside and outside the incubator.
‘This computer controls everything that happens inside the incubator. There is a schedule for feeding, with a mechanical nipple and milk formula, and a schedule whereby robotic arms rotate the infant. We have moisture sensors which determine when diapers need to be changed, which is done mechanically as well. Our system is very efficient, as you can see, and this way no external contaminants can enter the incubator. We do, however, expose the infants to small doses of various external elements to build and strengthen their immune systems from an early age: fur and dander from a range of wild and domestic animals, soil, insects, faeces, dust, a selection of essential microbes, and other such things.’
Sigurd nodded, staring at the little infant in its plastic enclosure, asleep and oblivious to their presence.
‘These were all supposed to be aborted, weren’t they?’ Hrothgar asked. ‘I mean, by government decree. They’re all girls, right?’
‘Almost every product is female, yes, Mr Li answered. ‘It is, erm, well, you know, we have our cultural prejudices regarding boy children and girl children, and with the government law with the one child policy, well, now two children, officially … you understand, right? We pay the mothers good money to see the product through pregnancy and birth, and we help them to keep it a secret. They give us their female baby, and they can continue to try for a boy.’
Sigurd nodded without taking his eyes off the baby before him, this tiny being that was so pink and vulnerable and helpless, and utterly isolated inside its tragic plastic cocoon. Deep within himself he felt a strange stirring of an emotion which he had not felt for a very long time … was this pity? Compassion, even? He shook off the sense of unease that accompanied this emotion and glanced up at Mr Li, growling out a reply.
‘Efficient, and beneficial to both parties. Yes. Tell me, are all the products sourced locally?’
‘If you mean, are they all ethnically Chinese, well yes, the majority are. However, as I mentioned before, we do have other ethnic groups on offer, as we realise that for certain jobs certain ethnicities are more suitable, in terms of being less conspicuous in different regions.’
Mr Li began to walk as he continued talking while Sigurd and Hrothgar trailed along behind him, each still simultaneously awed and disturbed at the sights all around them.
‘Also, while most of our products are female, we do have a few male products too. As a matter of course they are castrated, with the testes removed from the time of infancy so that the infamous male appetite for sex does not interfere with their psychological and mental conditioning. If they are still with us by the time they should go through puberty, we administer hormone replacement therapy so that they develop normally. The females have their ovaries and wombs surgically removed before the onset of puberty for the same reason. Our products have unflappable mental focus; they are absolutely guaranteed to complete any mission assigned to them. Also, as I told you on the phone, we can ship the product worldwide. Passports, paperwork and national borders are not an impediment.’
Sigurd stroked his beard and then slid his hands behind his back.
‘Good, good,’ he rumbled. ‘International shipping and multiple border crossings are definitely going to be needed for the products I intend to purchase.’
‘You are after the combat, espionage and assassination model, are you not?’
‘Yes. Two of them, as we discussed.’
‘Are you sure I couldn’t interest you two in some of our pleasure models, for a little extra? They are far cheaper than the combat models, and—’
‘I’m only interested in the combat and espionage models,’ Sigurd replied gruffly.
Mr Li nodded and spoke in fast, chattering Mandarin to the manageress. He then turned to Hrothgar and smiled his tight-lipped plastic grin at him.
‘Are you interested in seeing what we call the “kindergarten phase” of the product development?’
Hrothgar shook his head.
‘No, we don’t really give a shit about that. We’d like to see where the combat models are trained, however.’
‘It really is quite fascinating though, I assure you. The “kindergarten” phase is where we separate combat and espionage models from pleasure models, starting at age five, based on DNA analysis and various psycho-analytical tests which—’
‘I care about one thing, and one thing only,’ interjected Sigurd gruffly. ‘We just want to see how effective your combat and espionage models are.’
Mr Li nodded and moved his hand to clasp Sigurd’s shoulder, stopping suddenly and withdrawing it shakily as he remembered Sigurd’s earlier threat.
‘Very well, comrades!’
‘We’re not your fucking comrades,’ Hrothgar rasped with blunt aggression.
Mr Li took a red silk handkerchief from his blazer pocket and dabbed at his forehead, upon which beads of perspiration were beginning to glisten.
‘Understood, understood,’ he said.
They left the climate-controlled incubator area and proceeded
