“Seems to run in the family.”
Eugene smirked. “You might be right. But she was convinced she could talk with certain people without ever opening her mouth.”
“So you activated the machine with your mind?” Jack shook his head and motioned to one of the consoles behind him. “Listen, I’m open-minded. Show me you can manipulate one of those holograms in any way, shape or form and I’ll believe you.”
“I’m not saying that’s what it was,” Eugene protested. “I’m just telling you I didn’t touch anything.”
“I still want you to try,” Jack said. He noticed Anna had stopped what she was doing and was watching their interaction. “See, both of us are curious.”
Eugene shook his head, padded over to the nearest console and glared intently at it for several seconds.
“If you can get that elevator going I’ll really be impressed,” Jack encouraged him.
Eugene threw him a scowl and then resumed his demonstration. Slowly his cheeks flared and his eyes bulged with the intense concentration. Jack also wondered if he was holding his breath. The hologram didn’t so much as flinch. Finally, Eugene let out a lungful of air and staggered forward, bracing himself on the seat before him.
Jack studied the elevator column in the middle of the bridge. Eugene and Anna looked as well. Nothing about it had changed.
“‘Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,’” Anna said, quoting the famous astronomer Carl Sagan as she rolled over and patted the back of Eugene’s biosuit.
“Hey, Jack,” Hart said, breaking into the channel. “I thought you should know, we have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“The team from Naval Intelligence has just arrived.”
Chapter 45
Piggybacking off an endless stream of espressos, Mia’s mind might have been wired, but the rest of her was screaming for sleep.
In short order, Dr. Jansson had redirected all of the lab’s personnel and resources to answering two fundamental questions. One, how was Salzburg able to create brand-new genes out of nowhere? And two, what vectors was the disorder using to introduce the chromatid into mature cells?
Mia pulled away from the microscope and rubbed at her tired eyes. The information on Salzburg’s DNA sequence they’d pulled off the USB had been immensely helpful. At this very moment, a team of researchers down the hall was running the data through a genotyping program designed to highlight and identify potential genes. For her part, Mia was trying to understand the mechanism by which the chromosome was created in the first place.
A few meters away in the staff lounge, Tom was sprawled out on a couch catching up on some much-needed sleep. He had been awake for well over twenty-four hours. Rather than sleeping during the flight over from Buenos Aires as she had, he had decided instead to perform counter-surveillance to be sure Sentinel agents hadn’t followed them aboard the aircraft.
But hours of research had passed and still Mia wasn’t getting anywhere. Any time she tried to compare the DNA from Salzburg to the human genome, she found zero matches. How could one have come from the other? Something wasn’t adding up. Wheeling her chair over to a nearby computer, she decided to change strategies. Rather than comparing the entire Salzburg DNA sequence at once, she instructed the algorithm to only use short lengths of DNA, no longer than ten base pairs long. If large chunks of genes hadn’t been replicated, maybe she would find smaller pieces mixed together. With that in mind, she ran it again, watching the progress bar the way a child might watch a tray of chocolate-chip cookies in the oven.
The reflection in the screen of someone behind her made Mia gasp. She spun in fear, her arms held out protectively. But the sight which greeted her was shocking for a completely different reason. One of Dr. Jansson’s technicians stood frozen, his hand outstretched, holding a paper. His eyes were wide with terror because a knife was at his throat. Tom pressed the blade deeper, forming a red line against the technician’s neck.
“Dr. Ward,” he stammered in a thick Dutch accent, his voice quivering along with the paper he’d come to deliver. “The genotyping results are in.” The technician’s name was stitched over the breast pocket of his lab coat: Klaus.
Mia reached over and coaxed Tom’s knife away from the startled scientist’s neck. “Down, boy.”
Klaus was about to drop to the floor.
“Not you,” she said, holding him steady. “I was talking to Jason Bourne’s twin brother behind you.”
Tom fixed the scientist’s ruffled lab coat and retreated back to the staff lounge, yawning as he went.
After a rather shaken Klaus excused himself, Mia dove right into the data he had provided. To her astonishment, in spite of the vast amount of non-coding DNA in the chromatid, only four previously unknown genes were present. As was standard procedure with designating HUGO symbols, the lab had named the new genes after the proteins they produced. They were as follows:
COL1 encoded a protein that attacked bone density, mirroring the effects of diseases such as osteoporosis.
TRPP2 specified a protein that weakened the ability of DNA to repair damage from ultraviolet radiation, leading to albinism.
SER3 produced a protein that effectively shrank the frontal and temporal lobes, sections of the brain which controlled abilities such as speech and reasoning.
The fourth and final gene they’d sequenced, DAF4, mimicked the genetic disease progeria, which caused a rapid whittling down of chromosome tips, greatly accelerating the aging process.
This was an important breakthrough. Not only because it explained the myriad of symptoms occurring now all over the world, but also because it could help pave the way for possible treatment.
Mia was still focused on the four new genes when the computer pinged. She turned to see the progress bar stall at one hundred percent before disappearing. Up popped another window with the results from her attempts to match strips of Salzburg’s DNA to the human genome. As Mia stared, her jaw fell open in shock.
Sure enough, the algorithm had found a match, but not one she had expected. As Dr. Jansson had pointed out earlier, brand-new genes didn’t simply pop into existence from nowhere. In the realm of medicine and academia, the overriding scientific understanding was that new genes were always slightly modified versions of old genes.
One example was the gene LCT that coded for lactase, an enzyme that enabled humans to digest dairy. And yet in non-human mammals, LCT became non-active shortly after infancy. So why the difference? It was likely caused by a mutation that took place among the goat and cattle herders on the plains of Hungary more than seven thousand years ago. Humans had started drinking milk and over time it had changed our DNA.
But if most genes mutated slowly over time, then it meant what she was seeing on the computer screen now was simply impossible.
Chapter 46
Jack arrived back to find the Orb in a flurry of activity. Two men wearing blue-colored biosuits were carrying Grant on a stretcher across the mess deck and into a waiting submersible. Close behind were two other men ushering a disoriented Olsen in the same direction.
“You must be Dr. Greer,” a voice called out next to him. “I’m Captain Mike Kelly from the Office of Naval Intelligence.” The captain licked his lips, slung his helmet under the crook of his left arm and thrust out his hand. Early fifties with a narrow face and a fading head of hair combed strategically to one side, Captain Kelly had a practiced air of friendliness.
The men shook hands. Two firm pumps, straight up, straight down. Release. It was a soulless shake and Jack was glad to have his hand back.
“And this is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Brooks.”
The woman’s plastic smile lingered for a second, maybe two. Her auburn hair was plastered to her skull and tied at the back in a painful-looking knot. The skin on her forehead was shiny, which only mildly distracted from the fact that her eyes were almost an inch farther apart than they should be.
Out came her hand. Two firm pum
ps, straight up, straight down. Release.
She appeared to be a recent graduate from the Captain Mike Kelly School of Public Relations. A six-pack of beer and half as many Jägerbombs—that was the lubricant Jack figured these two would need in order to yank the sticks out of their butts.
“Captain Kelly will be taking over the operation from here,” Brooks informed him. “Commander Hart is free to stay if he so chooses.”
Hart nodded. “Sure, I’ll stick around. Isn’t every day you get to be in the history books.”
She swiveled to Jack. “And we’ll need you to turn over any and all data—digital and hard copy—as well as any samples you’ve collected to date.”
The blood rushed up Jack’s neck and into his cheeks. “I was never told we’d be required to hand over our findings. We never intended to hide what we found, but you can’t just come in and take it.”
“Listen, Doctor,” Captain Kelly said, trying not to sound condescending, but doing a piss-poor job of it. “We aren’t asking…”
Jack turned to Hart. “Get Admiral Stark on the line. He’ll sort this out.”
Kelly licked his lips. He didn’t seem pleased that anyone, especially a civilian, was going over his head. “Stark has no authority here. I’m in charge. But I understand time is not a luxury we have to waste, so I’ll tell you what. How about you provide us with a copy of the data you’ve collected so far and we’ll go from there?”
“I can get them the intel they’re looking for,” Hart said, nudging between the two men like a referee at a boxing match.
“What’s your mission here?” Jack asked.
“That’s top-secret,” Kelly said. “You should know that. As far as I’m concerned, you should all be packed up and sent topside. But Admiral Stark asked me for a favor and you wanna know what I told him?”
Jack moved in. “I’m all ears.”
“I told him I’d babysit so long as none of you crawl up my ass and started a fire. We’ve known each other all of five minutes and I’m already smelling smoke.”
Jack gritted his teeth. “Well, I’m smelling something else and it sure as hell isn’t smoke.”
Hart grinned.
Forcing a smile, Captain Kelly took a step back and motioned to the men in blue biosuits shuttling back and forth around him. “There are a half-dozen intelligence officers here to help prosecute this mission. Just make sure you stay out of their way and you won’t have a problem.”
Chapter 47
A hand nudged Mia awake. Opening her eyes, she saw Dr. Jansson, the glow from the lunch room lights crowning her like a halo.
“What time is it?”
“Seven in the morning,” Jansson said, handing her a cup of coffee.
Mia waved it away. She’d had enough coffee to fill every canal in Amsterdam.
“An assistant came to see me this morning,” Jansson began.
“Yes, I was going to tell you about that,” Mia interrupted. “It was all a big misunderstanding.”
Jansson’s brow furrowed. “Misunderstanding? You mean about the four genes identified within Salzburg?”
Mia glanced over and saw Tom standing at the entrance to the staff lounge. He was holding a large bag of croissants. “No, I was talking about… anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and removed the printout with the results from her own research. “I think you should look at this.”
Jansson set the coffee down and took the papers from Mia. “This can’t be right,” she said, her voice strained. “Have you run it again?”
“Three times,” Mia replied, and she had the bags under her eyes to prove it. “It keeps coming out the same way. What we found in Salzburg weren’t existing genes that had been mutated―”
“You’re suggesting they were assembled from bits and pieces of non-coding DNA,” Jansson said, amazement in her voice. “But how?”
“I’m not sure, yet,” Mia admitted. “But I think this opens up a whole new realm of possibilities. If some unknown environmental factor is promoting the assembly of new, never-seen-before genes from so-called ‘junk DNA’ in our genome, then what else might it be capable of?”
The smile on Dr. Jansson’s face held for a second more before falling. She looked around the room. Only Tom was nearby, searching for blueberry jam in the fridge. “Could you give us a moment?” she asked him.
Tom glanced up, his hair still askew from a restless night’s sleep on a neighboring sofa. He hesitated, before Mia motioned that she would be fine. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
He left and closed the door behind him.
“He’s very protective of you,” Jansson noticed.
“Is he?” Mia asked, recalling poor Klaus and the knife at his neck.
“I made a call to the WHO last night.”
Mia’s pulse quickened.
“It’s normal protocol anytime we host a member of the U.N.’s science division, you understand. They transferred me to Isabella Silva, the Regional Director for Northern Brazil. And let me tell you, she had quite a tale to tell.”
Mia’s heartbeat was now moving at a full gallop.
“Isabella said you’d been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” Mia stuttered, as surprised to hear the words as Jansson had been to say them. Had Ollie been lying that the Brazilian authorities were after her? Maybe they had read the crime scene in her hotel room precisely for what it was: an attempt on her life. Had they been chasing after Gustavo’s plane on that runway in an effort to prevent her abduction?
“I informed her you didn’t appear to be here under duress. But they insisted we contact the local authorities to have this sorted out.”
Mia had worried this was where the conversation was headed. How did you explain to a perfect stranger that an invisible, but immensely powerful group wanted you dead?
Mia leapt to her feet and swung open the door. Tom was leaning against the far wall. The look on Mia’s face must have signaled something was very wrong. He straightened.
“The cops are on their way,” she explained.
“Then we need to go.”
She bit her lip hard. “We can’t.”
“What? If you get picked up, we won’t be able to protect you. Sentinel agents could be anywhere.”
“They could have been waiting for us here as well, but we came nevertheless. It was a chance we knew we had to take. And there’s one more chance. I need you to buy me some time.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead. “How much?”
“An hour? Stall the cops however you can.”
Tom laughed. “You’ll be lucky to get ten minutes.”
Mia could feel the vein in her neck thumping a wild beat. Jansson was coming out of the staff room when Tom broke off, heading toward the lab’s main entrance. She locked eyes with the woman and said, “I don’t have long but I need your help.” She thought of Zoey, lying in bed in some dank motel room. “Millions of lives are at stake. Including my daughter’s.”
Jansson followed Mia to the DNA sequencer. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I was only following protocol.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mia said, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she input fresh search parameters. “I believe our immune system is somehow being co-opted as a vector to inject Salzburg into our cells.”
“But how?”
Mia swallowed hard, double-checking she hadn’t missed anything before hitting enter. “I think the instructions are being sent to the same parts of our non-coding DNA that created the genes. If so, then we can use those same instructions to implant a human artificial chromosome of our own, stuffed with genes to neutralize Salzburg’s effects.”
She tapped her foot as she watched the impossibly slow progress bar flick from four to five percent complete. There was no way she was going to finish this.
“If I’m right, I need you to pass the information on to the WHO and Dr. Scott Chapman in Santarem.” She jotted this down on a scrap of
paper. Mia stopped and looked in Jansson’s eyes. The woman was scared. “Surely you’ve seen the flashes?”
“Flashes?”
“The blinding light, you must have seen it.”
“Of course. Hasn’t everyone?”
“Every time it happens,” Mia told her, “Salzburg grows more powerful.”
The program was at seven percent and Mia cursed. Loud voices swept down the long corridor. She stood to leave.
“I nearly forgot,” Jansson said, breathless, her wrinkled fingers clutching the note with Scott’s number. “I have a paper Dr. Van der Berg was working on before he left.” She reached inside her lab coat and removed a few rolled-up sheets. “It’s a little out-there and incoherent in places, but maybe you’ll find something useful in it.”
The voices were growing louder and Mia could make out Tom yelling, “You can’t come in here.”
“One last thing,” Jansson said. “I pretended not to know where Dr. Van der Berg is staying, but it was a lie. He’s far away, a place I can’t imagine you’ll be heading anytime soon.”
“Try me,” Mia said. She’d already flown halfway around the world. What was a few extra miles?
“Kopan Monastery in Kathmandu.”
Chapter 48
“Son of a bitch,” Jack shouted, narrowly pulling a punch aimed at one of the biotubes, a move that would surely have shattered the glass, his hand or both.
Eugene and Dag were in the USO’s lab as well, looking noticeably uncomfortable.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Gabby said. “You knew they would show up sooner or later.”
“He really got under your skin,” Eugene observed.
Jack brushed imaginary dirt off the knuckles of his glove. “Maybe it’s the way that smug bastard demanded all of our data like it belonged to him.”
Gabby stepped in and settled her hands over his. “How many hours have you slept in the last couple of days?”
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