Page 11 of The Life Experiment
‘But… But how can you tell when I’ll die from that?’
‘Science,’ Saira replied with a knowing smile. ‘We’ve made the most incredible advances in recent years. More advances than the average person would dare to believe.’
‘But finding out when someone will die? Surely not.’
Saira gestured to her surroundings. ‘Would we be here right now if it weren’t true? Would The Life Experiment be wrapped in so many layers of confidentiality if it wasn’t researching something so huge?’ Seeing Layla’s shock, Saira smiled with understanding. ‘I realise it’s a lot to take in. Trust me, we’ve been working on it for a long time and still can’t believe what we’ve discovered. You’re more than welcome to research OPM Discoveries’ credentials for yourself, although I imagine someone as studious as yourself has already done that.’ When a blushing Layla gave a sheepish nod, Saira laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’d have done the same. But after researching us, you’ll know we’re legitimate.’
‘I do. I just… I… I can’t believe this is possible.’
‘I have an information pack that might help your understanding, if you’d like to read it?’ When Layla nodded, Saira reached into a drawer of her desk and removed a brochure. ‘If you have any questions, let me know.’
Turning her attention to the information in front of her, Layla began to read. Cutting-edge procedures and cellular testing, state-of-the-art technology, a high success rate when trialled on multiple speciesof animals… Maybe OPM Discoveries really could calculate when a person would die.
When she reached the end of the document, Layla’s lips parted. ‘This is crazy.’
‘It’s a lot to process, but as you read, our clinical trials showed a 98 per cent success rate in estimating a biological date of death in animals. Now it’s time to test humans. People of all ages, races and backgrounds. People like… well, people like you, Layla. Our work here has incredible implications. Think how this knowledge could help people living with health anxiety or the terminally ill. Even people simply wanting to plan their lives better. Layla, this research could change everything.’
As the weight of those words hit Layla in the chest, she nodded. There was no denying the possible ramifications of this experiment, both good and bad. Something like this could quite literally change the world.
‘Is it… Is it ethical?’ she asked. ‘To tell people when they’ll die, I mean.’
‘Only those who want to know will find out their result. If this trial is successful, people would have the choice to access the service. They would also be able to leave the process at any point before results are handed over. Counselling is mandatory too. We take our duty of care seriously. Nobody wants to tell someone this news unless it is absolutely what they want to hear. That’s why we give participants a week between participation offers and their decision. We’re not immune to the gravity of this knowledge, Layla. Whatever result we pass on, we cannot take back.’
The more Saira spoke, the deeper Layla was pulled into intrigue. Sure, there was a dangerous element to the study, a ‘playing god’ complex she was sure her mum would hate, but to know the map of your future… Who wouldn’t be curious about that?
‘With the highly sensitive nature of this study, I’m sure you can understand why we need complete transparency from our participants,’Saira continued. ‘With that in mind, can you understand why your responses concerned me?’
Sheepishly, Layla nodded. ‘I’m sorry I messed up.’
‘You haven’t messed up. If anything, you’ve made me more determined to have you in this study.’
Layla smiled at the compliment, but a wobble of insecurity wiped her smile away. ‘Can you… Can you really tell me when I’m going to die?’
‘We can’t factor in accidents or natural disasters, but we can pinpoint your biological death date from your current health, lifestyle and DNA makeup. If you want us to, that is.’
As Layla closed her eyes, her life passed before her. The run of late nights and ready meals, her aching joints and ever-growing mental load. Before this conversation, she would have said it was worth it, but now someone was saying they couldactuallytell Layla if it was.
Desire flickered in the pit of Layla’s stomach. She wanted – no, sheneeded– to know. Every early alarm, every skipped meal, every cancelled plan… Would the sacrifice one day outweigh the cost?
Leaning forward, Layla levelled her gaze at Saira. ‘If I redo my questionnaire, will you reconsider me?’
Grinning, Saira pulled an iPad from her desk. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
6Angus
‘So I told her to get out or I’d call the police!’ Jasper roared, banging the table with his fist, making the patterned china and silver cutlery jump in the air.
While the rest of the diners guffawed, Angus stifled an eye-roll. How anyone could believe Jasper’s story, that he once dated a woman who tried to rob him, was beyond Angus, but when someone shouted loud enough, people tended to believe what they said.
Sipping his whisky, Angus glanced across the garden to the main house. His parents and their friends sat on the veranda, no doubt having similarly insincere conversations. The only difference was they were at the grown-up table, and he was at the children’s one.
No one called it the children’s table anymore – not now that most of those seated at it were keeping wrinkles at bay via botox or staring down the barrel of a divorce – but that’s what it was. Pushed off to the side, under the embrace of an oak tree and surrounded by portable heaters due to the autumnal weather, everyone at the table was the offspring of one of his parents’ friends. Partygoers, socialites and travellers burning through their inheritance like the money was theirs to spend in the first place.
Suddenly, a hand trailed up Angus’s thigh. Glancing to his left, he locked eyes with Clarissa Dowess. Set to inherit an expansive property empire when her father died (probably of a heart attack, judging byArchibald’s rich diet), everyone expected Angus to marry Clarissa. She was, after all, an ‘eligible’ match. The daughter of Peter’s best friend, four years younger than Angus and classically beautiful, his mother called her ‘a darn catch’.
She was also a tedious bore with a crippling cocaine habit. As Angus placed his hand on top of hers and gently pushed it away, she pouted. ‘Aren’t you in the mood for a little fun?’
‘You mean this isn’t fun enough?’ he replied, gesturing to their surroundings.
