Ganymede

by Jason Taylor

  Jill’s legs gave out and she sat down hard. She could feel tears starting at the corners of her eyes.

  “Ok,” she said.

  “You’ll tell me what you know?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  And then she did.

  When she left her node and opened her eyes into the real world, the farmhouse was cold and dark, the air stagnant, wet, and clammy. The mist had risen from the fields and crawled through the open door, where it lay like a ghostly blanket across the floor. As she walked to the front porch it stirred around her feet, fingers of white mixing with the air in ragged swirls.

  She stood on the porch for a while, then she stepped down onto the gravel path that led toward the road. Once she’d gotten far enough away from the house, she stopped and looked up to the stars. She thought about how an uncountable multitude of distant photons had traveled for tens of thousands of years and were just now, with incredible improbability, ending their journey by falling through the lens of her eye and into her retina for her brain to interpret as a tiny pinprick of light.

  She spread her arms and spun in a small circle, letting the sensation of epoch time and space sweep over her. But she didn’t even last long enough to feel dizzy. She managed two rotations before the needle took her in the neck, dropping her to the ground with a muted thud.

  Chapter 11

  Jill gasped awake and opened her eyes into an unfamiliar room. She was sitting on an ugly metal chair, her wrists shackled to a gleaming, steel table. On the other side of the table paced a tall, muscular woman in military uniform. Jill recognized her as Commander Tros from Matt’s recording. The same Commander Tros who had killed Matt and now was undoubtedly going to kill her too.

  “Hello, Jill,” Tros said.

  “Where am I?” Jill asked, frantically searching the room for clues.

  “Let me introduce myself. I’m Commander Tros, and you are in one of my safe-rooms.”

  “I know who you are. What are you going to do with me?”

  “The answer to that question is complicated. It depends very much on your answers to my questions,” Tros said, placing both of her hands flat on the table, her bulk looming over Jill’s seated form.

  Jill fought to calm her breathing. She needed to focus. The last thing she remembered was talking to Icarus. And a farmhouse. It was all a bit hazy around the edges.

  “How do you know Matthew Foster?” Tros asked.

  “Do you mean Matt from the lab?” Jill asked. When Tros nodded, she continued. “He worked at the lab with me. I know he’s in the military branch of the cloning project. That’s all I know.”

  “Have you ever had contact with him before he spoke with you in the lab yesterday?”

  “Why are you asking me these questions? You must know the answers already. Anything you don’t know you can get from my implant with a neural probe.”

  “I want to hear it from your own mouth, in your own words. I believe that sometimes the old ways are still the best.”

  Jill stared at Tros, flustered. “I would see him in the lab sometimes. I didn’t like him. I thought he was spying on me,” she stammered.

  Tros put a tablet on the table and made a notation with a slim stylus. “Ok,” she said. “How about yesterday? Tell me about all of your interactions with Matthew Foster yesterday.”

  Jill shook her head, trying to clear it. “Let me think. I went to work like normal. When I got to the lab it was locked down. I talked to Joanne and she told me that Matt was dead. She also told me the lab had been nationalized. I was upset.”

  Tros looked up from her tablet. “Go on.”

  “I received a message from Matt. He loaded an AI construct into my personal-node. The construct confirmed that Matt had been killed.”

  “Good. That matches our record of your activity. I want to thank you for telling me the truth so far.” She leaned forward. “Now, tell me about Icarus.”

  “Icarus?”

  “Jill, don’t toy with me. I know that you’ve been consorting with terrorists. The question I’m asking myself now is, are you a terrorist too?”

  “No. God no. Of course, I’m not a terrorist!”

  Tros narrowed her eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that. Now, tell me about your interactions with Icarus.”

  Jill slumped in her chair. “Matt’s construct told me that the military had killed him. I suppose that was you, wasn’t it? Are you going to kill me too?”

  Tros leaned back, arms crossed, waiting for her to continue.

  Jill took a shaky breath, gathering her courage. “He told me that you plan to use cloning technology to create super-soldiers. Weapons without conscience. He told me that you would network the clones together and turn them into slaves. It’s inhuman. We had to stop you!”

  “And you believed all of that?” Tros asked.

  Jill felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest.

  “What kind of an idiot do you take me for?” Tros demanded. “Who in their right mind would create weaponized zombie super-soldiers and expect everything to just work out? That’s some serious end of the world shit right there.”

  “I… um,” Jill started to say and then stopped, confused.

  “Goddamned, self-righteous, pointy-headed academics. No end to the headaches you people cause me. Whatever convinced me to take this God-forsaken command, I don’t know…” she trailed off. “Jill, let me clue you in.” She reached down and pushed a finger hard into Jill’s forehead. “You have no idea what you are doing. You have no goddamned idea how much trouble you have caused me.” Tros sat down heavily in her chair.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jill felt very small and very lost.

  “Let me start with this. Matt’s not dead. Did you think we’d kill one of our own? That’s not how this works. Do you think you’re living in a goddamned spy novel?”

  “Matt’s not dead?” Jill’s head was spinning. “What do you mean? I saw him die. I experienced it.”

  “You saw exactly what he wanted you to see.”

  “Why would Matt want me to think he was dead?”

  “Not Matt. Icarus. He set you up. Matt’s been spying on the cloning project for years. We took him into custody last night. Icarus loaded the construct into your personal node as soon as he learned we’d arrested Matt.”

  “What?!” Jill was halfway out of her chair, her arms still pinned to the table. Tros was looking at her with satisfaction.

  “Did you even think to verify any of the things that construct told you?”

  “No, I… everything was moving really fast. We were on the run,” Jill finished lamely.

  “On the run from whom?” Tros asked.

  “From you?”

  “And why would we be after you?”

  “Because you killed Matt. Because I knew too much. Because…” Even as she said it, she realized it sounded absurd.

  Tros was looking at her appraisingly, letting her puzzle it out.

  “Wait,” Jill said. “You must have been searching for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

  “Once you contacted a known terrorist and gave him the solution to the cloning problem. Once he broadcast it to the world. Yes, once you did those things, we came after you.”

  “Oh,” Jill said in a very small voice.

  Jill thought back to all that had happened in the past day. It still didn’t add up. “But why did you nationalize the lab. You’re taking over the cloning project, aren’t you?”

  “After we arrested Matt for conspiring with Icarus, our security protocols required a clean sweep of the lab. We couldn’t let anyone into the building until we were sure we had contained the problem. We have found a solution to human cloning, that part is true. And it has been in large part because of your research, that part is also true. Unfortunately, the technology is just as dangerous as the construct told you. My priority is to protect this breakthrough so it cannot be used by our enemies.”

  “But the cons
truct was the one who told me about the breakthrough in the first place,” Jill pleaded, desperately trying to maintain a grip on reality.

  “The construct that Icarus loaded into your personal-node was cutting-edge AI tech. Impressive stuff. Almost military grade,” Tros said begrudgingly. “Its job was to extract the information it needed from you and then convince you to transmit that information to Icarus. It succeeded in that mission.”

  “But how? I didn’t even know what the breakthrough was.”

  “But you did. Or at least you were close enough. The construct penetrated both your personal and professional nodes and then assembled your research analysis into a working hypothesis. It used its conversation with you to verify the correctness of its theory. And… well, you know the rest.”

  Jill felt infinitely tired. And worse, she felt the fool. She had spent the last twenty-four hours being manipulated. Everything she’d been told had been a lie. She felt used. Dirty. Worse yet, she had no idea what the truth was anymore, or who she could trust. On the bright side, she was still alive.

  “What now?” she asked wearily.

  “Your actions have been treasonous, there’s no question about that. Being naive, idealistic, and misguided does not absolve you of your guilt,” Tros said sternly. Then her expression softened. “It also doesn’t change the fact that I need you.”

  “Need me? For what?” Jill asked, hope flaring in her chest.

  “Thanks to you and Icarus, we are now on a level playing field with every other nation on earth. Our only remaining advantage is if we can move faster than everyone else to capitalize on this breakthrough. I need every genetics researcher I can get my hands on, and unfortunately, you are one of my best.”

  The shackles popped open, freeing Jill’s wrists. Jill gaped at Tros as she held out her hand. She tentatively reached out and took it. Tros’s hand was large, wrapping all the way around Jill’s much smaller hand, and to Jill’s surprise, it was reassuringly warm.

  “Welcome to the Ganymede project, Jill. We have no time to waste.”

  Part 2

  Chapter 12

  World Zero: 2081

  “Hello everyone, welcome back for another live-cast of World Events with Holly Sharper. I’m happy to have both Megan Duncan and Lisa Flanner with me in the studio. Tonight we will be unpacking the latest news coming out of the Ganymede project. There is a lot for us to talk about, so let’s get started.”

  Holly turned to Megan. “After the shocking release of information by Icarus last year, we haven’t heard much from the researchers at the Ganymede project. Then this week, they dropped a bombshell on us. Apparently, they have perfected the cloning process and are ready to start with human volunteers. Megan, what are we to make of this?”

  “Well Holly, we’ve known for almost a year that cloning is theoretically feasible, but this is the first time we’ve heard about any solid, practical progress. It looks like the folks at the Ganymede project have been busy!”

  Holly turned to Lisa. “What do you think Lisa? Do you still have objections to the use of this new technology?”

  “Frankly, I’m not convinced it’s going to work. I think our efforts have been blocked for a purpose, and I think they will continue to be blocked. There is a divine will at work here, mark my words. Who can look at the extremely sophisticated error-checking each of us has inside of us and say that it is not the work of Providence? It is my sincere belief that human cloning is against God’s will. Perhaps, in our arrogance, we have figured out how to get around his first restriction, but God works in powerful and varied ways. If it is His will that we should not clone humans, then we will find ourselves forever blocked. We are shaking the very branches of the tree of knowledge, fighting over who can be first to taste the forbidden fruit,” Lisa said with fervor.

  “But Lisa, what are we to make of statements, directly from Government representatives, that they have figured out how to make the cloning process work?” Holly asked.

  “I’m sure they believe that, but I think they will be surprised,” Lisa responded.

  “Be that as it may, the huge moral and political implications of this development are worth discussing. What do you say to Megan’s doubts?” Holly asked.

  “I don’t think any of us can know if it will work,” said Megan, “not until after the human trials are complete. But I am going to predict a successful outcome, and we will all have to grapple with the consequences. The President has already stated her desire to see clones fully integrated into our society, with equal rights to an original, but what impact will that have on the rest of us? What if someone creates a thousand clones. Will they all vote the same way as the original? Is this just another way for the administration to consolidate power?”

  “Interesting point, Megan. And what about discrimination? Do you think clones will face intolerance from the rest of society?” Holly asked.

  “In my congregation, we teach that every life is valuable,” Lisa said. “But it is going to be a hard sell with clones. Especially since we believe that cloning is contrary God’s will. I tell my flock that they should hate the sin, but love the sinner. In this case, I don’t even know who the sinner is. Is it the original who has allowed themselves to be cloned? Is it the clone who was created in sin, without any choice in the matter? Is it the scientists who create this blasphemous technology? You might say the clone is blameless, but isn’t the clone an exact copy of the original? If the original were a murderer, for instance, how are we to look at the clone? Are they just as capable of criminal intent?”

  “Legally speaking, each clone will be their own individual,” Megan responded. “Otherwise, there would be mass confusion. We need to think of them more like children than copies. Just as twins are considered individual people, clones will be as well.”

  “This is a fascinating discussion, and I’m sure these issues will play out in Congress, in the Courts, and in forums of public opinion,” Holly said. “Let’s talk about the encrypted error checking. Megan, do you feel this is a sign of divine will, as Lisa claims?”

  “No, I don’t. I think it is a highly complicated example of the miracle of evolution. I could give you a long list of biological structures that were once used as examples of why evolution couldn’t possibly be true. Let’s take the human eye, for instance. Anti-evolutionists would argue that it is impossible for evolution to create a structure as sophisticated as an eye through the processes of random mutation and natural selection. We know now that those objections were unfounded. Evolution, given enough time, can give rise to the most incredible results. Encrypted error checking inside our DNA is just one more example of that fact. It’s true that we don’t understand the evolutionary pressures that would have led to encryption in human DNA, but that doesn’t mean we won’t eventually find them. We just don’t have the answers, yet.” Megan said.

  “I couldn’t disagree more,” said Lisa. “I don’t think we will ever find an evolutionary explanation for genetic encryption, because there isn’t one. It is quite clearly an example of intelligent design. It took humans how many millennia to come up with the idea of encryption? You want me to believe that it somehow randomly arose in our genetic structure? That is so incredibly unlikely as to be laughable. And how would you account for the fact that no other animal shares this feature with us? In this regard, humans are held a step above the rest of the animal kingdom, exactly as the Bible has always held true. I know that my religious community is in the minority on this, but that doesn’t change the correctness of our views. Genetic encryption is the best proof of a God that we have ever seen. Unfortunately, we live in a secular society, and the significance of this discovery is lost on most people, yourself included.”

  “Many people say that this discovery is proof of a human soul. Lisa, I think you would agree with that statement. Megan, what do you say to that?” Holly asked.

  “This proves nothing about the soul. The existence of the human soul lies in the realm of philosophy and religio
n, not science. I don’t think the Ganymede project has anything to say about the presence of souls, and it never will.” Megan concluded.

  Mary triggered her interface and turned the broadcast off. She was sitting in a white, clinical waiting room with three other women. All of whom had been hand-picked by members of the Ganymede project to produce the first set of human clones. She’d learned from the doctors that they had wanted to include men in the cloning program, but XX chromosomes had proven to be more robust than XY. Cloning men didn’t work, so for now, it was only women. One of the women had brought her husband, however, so there was a man in the room with them. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting just as expectantly as all the mothers.

  Mary was both nervous and excited. She closed her eyes and sent another silent thanks to Jill for nominating her for the trials. Jill had known that she wanted a child more than anything else in the world. None of the fertility options had worked for her. Cloning was her last chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same as raising a normal child, but it was an incredible opportunity. No one had ever had the experience of raising a clone of themselves. When she thought about it, her mind boggled. She would get to hold a baby version of herself, raise herself as a child, send herself to college, see herself get married. The thought of all those milestones made her feel giddy with anticipation. She was so extraordinarily lucky.

  A woman wearing a lab-coat with the swooped wings of the Ganymede logo came into the room. “Hello, ladies. I want to thank all of you for volunteering to participate in this historic moment. I also want to thank the millions of interested viewers who have joined us via live-cast. This is the moment in which we will turn dream into reality. The moment in which we kindle new life from each of you. This is truly the start of a new era.” The woman paused to let her words sink in. Then she walked to each woman in turn and took a small tissue sample from the skin of her finger, from the back of her neck, and took a snippet of hair. The procedure had the feeling of ritual, each moment imbued with meaning as the samples were taken and filed for every participant in the trial.