The Coming Storm

by Mark Alpert

  Look, you’re throwing off so much anger right now that I can barely understand you. It’s like listening to static.

  Jenna took a deep breath. She definitely wanted her brother to hear this, so she forced herself to calm down. She sat at the other end of the couch, keeping the scrapbook between them. They asked you for more vaccine, and you said no. Why, Raza?

  He didn’t answer right away. He stared at his neatly pressed pants and picked a piece of lint off his knee. It was difficult for Jenna to read his expression—the pale, slender face was still new to Raza, and he was still learning how to use it—but if she’d been forced to guess, she would’ve said he was embarrassed. He would’ve gladly avoided this conversation if that were possible.

  I’ve changed my mind about the necessity of stopping the Serenity virus. I think we may actually be better off if we let it take its course.

  She’d been afraid of this. Her anger returned. So you want the virus to spread the genetic changes to everyone? A whole nation engineered to be docile? That would make your job a lot easier, wouldn’t it?

  Jenna, I—

  You want a pacified country that won’t protest your policies. And that’s the same thing Vance Keller wanted. Funny coincidence, right?

  No, it’s not the same. Don’t you see what’s going on?

  Yeah, I see. You’ve inherited more than Keller’s body. You’ve adopted his political strategy too.

  Raza grimaced. He shook his head firmly. This has nothing to do with politics. What we’re facing right now is bigger than me, bigger than the presidency. Bigger than America even. This is a crucial moment for the entire human race.

  Really? I don’t see it that way. To me, this just looks like a genetic atrocity.

  Just think for a minute about what we’ve learned in the past few months. Yes, the first CRISPR experiments were flawed, but they proved that the technique can radically change human DNA. Our species can guide the next step in its evolution. I’m living proof of that, Jenna. Whether you intended it or not, your treatment turned me into something completely new.

  Jenna’s throat tightened. She’d tried to forget her own responsibility for their predicament, but it was inescapable. She was the one who’d changed Raza so completely. She’d saved his life, but he was no longer human.

  I don’t blame you for it. Believe me, I’m grateful. And not just because I can walk and talk and tie my own shoes. You also freed me from so many other limitations. Although I’m happy in Keller’s body right now, I’m not permanently tied to it. In a way, I’ve become more of a spirit than a biological creature. In theory, I could jump from one body to another indefinitely. You made me immortal.

  She swallowed hard. Raza was frightening her.

  No, no, don’t worry. I don’t think of myself as a god or anything like that. This is more like a revolutionary advance in medicine, like the discovery of penicillin. And I want to share it. We’ve discovered a cure for death, and I want everyone to benefit.

  She didn’t find this reassuring. If anything, it scared her even more. You do see the problem with this cure, right? In order to escape your dying body, you have to jump into a living one and get rid of whoever is already occupying it. Like you did with Keller.

  Raza waved his hand in a dismissive way, as if brushing off the difficulties. We can get around that problem. Maybe through cloning. We could extract cells from a dying patient and create a healthy, younger version of his body, but with no higher intelligence in its brain. Once the new body is ready, the patient can make the jump. It would probably take a few years of research to perfect the technique, but it’s doable.

  Jenna shook her head. Maybe the technical problems are solvable, but what about the ethics? A lot of people won’t like this idea, Raza. They’ll call it a barbarity. They’ll grab their pitchforks and come after you.

  He shrugged. Well, now you see how Serenity could be useful. Most human beings are too stubborn to recognize what’s good for them. They resist new ideas and demonize the people trying to help them. But if we modify their DNA and make them a little less resistant, the path to a better future will be smoother.

  So you’re already committed to this plan? You won’t even debate it?

  As I said, this is the next step in human progress. If we don’t pursue it, someone else will, most likely a government or corporation that has no scruples whatsoever. The future of our species is at stake, and I think we’re the ideal leaders for this task. He leaned across the couch, edging closer to her. I really hope you’ll help me with this, baji. You should encourage the Palindrome researchers to take on this new project. They need to study the genetic mechanisms that caused the changes in my brain cells. Once they understand the process, they can try it on other people. Maybe the first test subjects should be terminally ill children. If we can give them the ability to move their minds out of their dying bodies and transfer themselves to healthy ones, it would dramatically demonstrate the value of the technique.

  And in the meantime, you’ll genetically lobotomize the American people. No, wait, that’s an understatement. Once the virus spreads to other countries, it’ll lobotomize the whole world.

  Raza sighed. I admit, the plan isn’t perfect. But in this case, the end justifies the means. The human race is in dire trouble. We’ll drive ourselves to extinction if we stay on our current path. But we can survive if we’re willing to change our biological design. We have the power to do that now.

  Jenna was appalled. She wanted to scream and curse and smack Raza in his new face. How could he seriously consider such an idea? For ten years, he was her innocent and pitiful little brother, mute and paralyzed, totally helpless. And in a mere five weeks he’d become so cold-blooded, so arrogant. It took her breath away, the change was so shocking.

  And yet she should’ve seen it coming. If she’d been thinking more clearly, she could’ve predicted it a month ago when she saw all the soldiers he’d slaughtered on Rikers Island. If he could do something like that, he was capable of anything.

  She rose from the couch. Her knees were shaking, but she managed to stay on her feet. She chose to say the words out loud. “I won’t help you. I’m resigning my position. If this is what you really want, you’ll have to find a new director for the project.”

  Don’t be rash, Jenna. Take some time to think it over.

  “I’m going to fight this. You won’t get away with it.”

  Then, before Raza could slip any more thoughts into her head, she stormed out of the Oval Office.

  * * *

  Jenna left in a hurry. She rushed out of the West Wing and across the White House grounds. After she exited the security gate on Pennsylvania Avenue, she broke into a run and sprinted through Lafayette Square, stumbling past the throng of oblivious sightseers.

  She didn’t stop until she reached the corner of K Street and Connecticut Avenue. She stood panting on the sidewalk in the middle of downtown Washington, surrounded by soulless, glass-fronted office buildings. It was past five o’clock and the street was full of well-dressed men and women, corporate lawyers and lobbyists filing out of their buildings and heading for the nearest Metro station. The evening light bronzed their faces. They were all blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited them.

  After several seconds Jenna caught her breath and looked south. She was half a mile from the White House, but she could still sense Raza’s mind in the distance. He hadn’t given up on her. She was his sister, after all, and blood was thicker than water. He expected her to come back.

  But Jenna turned around and walked another block north. After crossing L Street she came to an older brick building with a large American flag hanging over an ornate awning. It was the Mayflower, one of Washington’s most famous hotels, and standing under the awning was the man whom Jenna had arranged to meet there. He was dressed much more stylishly than usual, in a sharp black jacket over an open-neck silk shirt, but she recognized him at once.

  Hector stepped toward her. His face was tense
and alert, full of concern. “How did it go?”

  She shook her head. “Not well. It’s what I was afraid of.”

  He was silent, waiting for more, but Jenna was too distressed to say anything else. Finally, he took her hand. “What should we do?”

  “I don’t know yet.” She looked down at the sidewalk. “I’m still thinking it over.”

  Hector gave her a few seconds, then bent over so he could look her in the eye. “You’ll figure it out. You’re good at that, chica.” He smiled. “In the meantime, why don’t we go inside and have a drink?”

  Jenna nodded. She squeezed his hand, and they walked into the hotel.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I used to be an editor at Scientific American, so I’ve followed with great interest the recent development of the CRISPR gene-editing method that’s described in this novel. The method uses viruses to insert a lab-designed molecular complex into the body’s cells; one part of the CRISPR complex guides it to the targeted gene, and the other part slices the DNA. The first clinical trials of the method are now under way as researchers test whether it can safely alter human genes to fight cancer and other illnesses. Using CRISPR to enhance someone’s intelligence is a more difficult challenge, because scientists don’t yet understand how genetic variations influence abilities such as memory recall. But the research efforts are likely to accelerate over the next few years, and the temptations of genetic enhancement may be hard to resist.

  I’d like to thank my wonderful agent, Dan Lazar of Writers House, and my fantastic editor, Alexandra Sehulster of St. Martin’s Press. Once again, though, I owe the greatest debt to my wife, Lisa. After twenty-six years of marriage, she still puts up with my nonsense.

  Also by Mark Alpert

  Final Theory

  The Omega Theory

  Extinction

  The Furies

  The Orion Plan

  The Six

  The Siege

  The Silence

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MARK ALPERT, author of Final Theory, The Omega Theory, Extinction, The Furies, and most recently The Orion Plan, is a contributing editor at Scientific American. His work has also appeared in Fortune, Popular Mechanics, and Playboy. He lives in Manhattan with his wife and their two children. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Mark Alpert

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  THE COMING STORM. Copyright © 2018 by Mark Alpert. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover photographs: background © Roy Bishop / Arcangel; cityscape © Patrick Pitu / Arcangel; clouds © Sabphoto / Shutterstock.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Alpert, Mark, 1961– author.

  Title: The coming storm: a thriller / Mark Alpert.

  Description: First Edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2019.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018031688 | ISBN 9781250065421 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781466872240 (ebook)

  Subjects: | GSAFD: Suspense fiction. | Science fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3601.L67 C66 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018031688

  eISBN 9781466872240

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: January 2019