by L. A. Larkin
‘Wait a sec. You did it? You used the B0r3r?’
‘Yes, but I couldn’t use my memory key. I had to use a Gene-Asis DVD and I can’t read it. I need you to find a way to open it.’
The elevator doors parted. He ushered her quickly past a number of luxurious meeting rooms and into a room with a computer.
‘We can look at it here,’ said John.
‘Can you lock the door?’
‘No. Were you followed?
‘I don’t know. A man tried to strangle me in the car park. I don’t know if he followed me. I left my car in Chinatown.’
He shook his head.
‘Strangle you?’
‘Yes, they were trying to stop me getting away.’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘John, I remember everything. Bukowski knows who I am. He knows about Tracey.’
‘Then it won’t take long to work out where you’ve gone. They probably know you live with me.’
Serena started to cough. Her throat was burning up.
‘Please, can I have some water?’
John poured some still spring water into a glass. Serena took a few sips: it felt like swallowing cricket balls.
‘Bukowski was going to rape me. He abused me. Darko helped. But something stopped him going further. It was your arrival at the hotel. I remember him saying to Darko that I didn’t know anything, so that’s probably why I’m still alive.’
John took her hands in his and spoke quietly.
‘Seri, we must call the police. Otherwise, Gene-Asis will hunt you down.’
‘No, John, we can’t. I have to be sure this disc will see the light of day.’
‘Serena, do you understand what you’ve got? You may have the key to destroying the company. They’ll kill you.’
‘No, they won’t. Not if I nail them first.’
‘Seri, I’ll do anything to protect you but I’m no match for these people. Only the police can do that. I know there are some bad cops out there, but most of them are straight and do a good job. If there’s anything on that DVD that’s criminal, the police will prosecute the people responsible.’
He picked up the phone and dialled Emergency 000.
‘This has to stop.’
Chapter 53
She leaped up and cut the line dead.
‘No, John, I can’t risk this DVD disappearing. I’ll go to the police when it’s public.’
‘No, now.’
She continued. ‘Please listen to me. I heard the Minister of Agriculture jump when Bukowski said jump. He’s in Bukowski’s pocket. I’ve been threatened by cops in Shelleyman Bay who are Gene-Asis’ spies. You have no idea how powerful they are. Please, John, I’ve risked my life for this disc. Just look at it first.’
She handed him the DVD.
‘Hmm. Looks normal. Ah, I think I know what they’ve done.’ He dropped it into the disc drive. It popped back out immediately.
‘Nice one,’ he said, fascinated. He held it under a desk lamp. ‘I thought so,’ he said, as his fingernail picked at the surface of the disc.
‘What is it?’
‘Some kind of protective film,’ he replied as he removed it.
‘It was already in a protective film envelope.’
John looked up, frowning. ‘That could be bad.’
She was about to ask why when the disc’s contents appeared on the monitor. John clicked open the first of the two files, ‘~^1~^G/569/:P`12/6/2011’. A digital clock appeared on the screen. It said ‘05:00:00’.
‘Just as I thought,’ John said, checking the clock on the wall. It was 12.45 pm. ‘It’s counting down time. Five hours. That’s how long we have before the disc is wiped clean.’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘I am; it’s data leak protected. When the disc is exposed to oxygen, it triggers the clock. It’s a way of minimising the likelihood of confidential data falling into the wrong hands.’
‘Can we copy the files somewhere, so we don’t lose them?’
‘No. That’s the whole point.’
‘So, if this is the evidence I need, I only have five hours—well, four hours and fifty-eight minutes—to show it to anyone?’
‘Let’s check what you have first. I may be able to do something.’
The file contained a research paper entitled Food Trials to assess the impact on human health of the Koch Bottlebrush Virus (KBv) conducted on behalf of Gene-Asis Biotech, by Dr F. McPherson.
So, Edelgard Koch had created the viral promoter used in all Supercrop plants. She recalled he was also one of the four scientists credited with developing the soon-to-be launched Supercrop Ultra range.
Serena hurriedly scanned the index for the conclusion, bypassing all the pages of scientific data and diagrams. The digital clock now said ‘04:55:01’. John pulled up a chair behind her.
‘Why “bottlebrush” virus?’ he asked.
‘Looks like one,’ she said, pointing to its image in the report. They read on in silence.
‘Holy shit. Is this for real?’ said John.
‘Yes, it’s for real,’ said Serena.
‘This is unbelievable. How can they sleep at night?’ he asked as he read. ‘The birth defects he’s describing here are terrible. But I don’t get it: most of the developed world eats genetically modified food. So why them and not us?’
‘Because, look here,’ she said, pointing at the monitor screen. ‘It says that of the 1400 people involved in the food trials,700 ate nothing but GM plants containing the Koch Bottlebrush Virus for five years.
‘But for us, only some of our daily fruit and vegetable intake contains KBv; perhaps around half? These poor people in Zimbabwe ate nothing but food with the Koch Bottlebrush Virus for five years.’
‘So, if companies like Gene-Asis have their way, in the next few years all our food will be GM. What this report’s saying is this could happen to us.’
‘I get it,’ said John. ‘Look here. He says that the 700 people in the control group, who didn’t eat any GM foods, were fine. But if Gene-Asis knew KBv was harmful, why didn’t they just stop using it?’
‘They can’t,’ replied Serena. ‘They have to use some kind of viral promoter and they’ve patented KBv. To develop a new one would cost the company millions. Millions they’d rather not spend.’
‘But why do they need to use this KBv at all?’
‘Well, take this example here,’ Serena said, pointing at the screen. ‘These people ate carrots, grown from Gene-Asis seeds. Gene-Asis had engineered faster-growing carrots by placing a human growth hormone into the carrot’s DNA.’
‘Human growth hormone! That’s sick.’
‘The carrot’s cells automatically protect its DNA from foreign invaders, such as this growth hormone. But, if you use an aggressive virus such as KBv, the carrot’s DNA is forced to switch on the human growth hormone. The cell’s defences are by-passed completely.’
‘But Dr McPherson proved that KBv is highly unstable and its behaviour can’t be controlled. Gene-Asis has always claimed horizontal gene transfer—from a food product into a human cell—can’t happen. Well, it does. The professor proved it. The virus is passing through people’s intestine lining, and causing horrible damage and birth defects.’
‘So a whole new generation could be born like this?’
‘Exactly.’
They stared at the screen.
Eventually, John spoke. ‘Jesus! No wonder they want this kept under wraps. But why hasn’t anyone questioned the health impact of GM foods? Aren’t these things supposed to be tested for safety?’
‘John, Gene-Asis donates millions to political parties around the world—in the US, Europe, here … Think of the influence that buys; how they can shape legislation favourable to them and keep the lid on embarrassing issues.
‘And they’re also one of the world’s single biggest contributors to scientific and medical research. If they don’t like a result, they threaten to withdraw funding. When scientists with integrity stand up to Gene-Asis, they los
e their jobs or, worse, disappear. There is no truly independent testing of GM foods.’
‘But surely they can’t get away with telling us it’s safe?’
‘Course they can. We were told Thalidomide and smoking cigarettes were safe.’
‘Point taken.’
‘John, look here. Dr McPherson talks about the hepatitis virus.’
She scrolled down and read aloud.
‘“KBv is reactivating ancient sleeping viruses, embedded in our DNA.” It says our ancestors had immunity to these viruses but we no longer do.’ She continued reading. ‘“The KBv is moving from the food into the human stomach, and then attaching itself to the DNA of dormant, deadly viruses. It is then switching on these viruses.” ’
‘Look at this,’ said John, also quoting from the report, ‘“KBv belongs to a group of viruses closely related to the human hepatitis virus.” He’s saying this KBv could trigger any dormant hepatitis in our DNA and that hep S could be a sleeping virus that’s been reactivated.’
‘And here.’ Serena pointed. ‘He says that once the virus has been reactivated in a few people, it could then be transmitted via blood, saliva or semen, depending on the strain of the virus. Well, that explains the hep S pandemic.’
John paused, as the implications finally sunk in. ‘This is what killed Kat.’
‘I’m sorry, John, this must be very hard for you.’
‘But why her and not me? Why?’
‘God, I don’t know. Maybe you have some kind of immunity?’
‘Evil bastards. How long have they known about this?’
‘The date’s here,’ she said, pointing.
‘But that’s years ago!’ He stood up, toppling the chair backwards. ‘How can they do that? They know about hep S. They know they’ve caused it and they don’t do a damned thing.’
‘No, as McPherson said, what they’re doing is trying to cover up their mistake. Bukowski would have his top people working on a solution and, in the meantime, he goes on selling the stuff and raking in massive profits. I would bet any money his new range is an attempt to prevent horizontal gene transfer.’
‘But how do they do that?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m hoping this next file will tell us.’
Serena opened the ‘BlockerX202’ file and John leaned closer to the screen.
It appeared Dr Koch had developed BlockerX202, which stopped the virus from passing through the human gut into the bloodstream, therefore preventing the KBv from wreaking havoc with human DNA.
It did this by coating the inside wall of the small and large intestines with a protective barrier, which allowed some of the goodness from the food to be absorbed but stopped the Koch Bottlebrush Virus from passing through. But, the side effects of BlockerX202 also appeared to be alarming, even if Koch had played them down. They included malnutrition, stomach cramping and nausea.
John paced the room, deep in concentration. His face was pale.
‘What do you want to do with this, Serena?’
‘We need to make this as public as possible, as fast as possible. Emailing these files to the major newspapers and TV channels around the world is the fastest way but can we do that?’
John sat hastily. ‘Unlikely. But I’ll have a go.’ His fingers moved over the keyboard in a blur of activity.
‘John, I left your B0r3r inside Bukowski’s computer. I just bolted. I’m sorry. They’ll trace it back to you.’
He didn’t react. ‘You’ll need to get away from here,’ she urged.
His frenetic attempts to attach the files to an email continued as he spoke. ‘No, Serena. I’m with you all the way. I’ve already lost one exceptional woman and I don’t intend to lose another.’ He glanced at her face to gauge her reaction.
‘John, I …’
‘… need to hurry. I know.’
Chapter 54
The on-screen clock displayed ‘04:37:18’.
‘I think I might have done it,’ said John. ‘We’ll use one of my personal email addresses. It’s as safe as you can get. What do you want to say?’ He turned to look at her expectantly.
Our lives are in danger, so this is in haste. Please read the two attached files carefully. What they reveal is the truth about Gene-Asis GM food products: they caused the hep S outbreak and birth deformities. Gene-Asis have known about this for years but so far have kept it secret.
These documents have been stolen from Gene-Asis’ highest security files—they are genuine. This is not a prank.’
Please act quickly and make this public. In just over four-and-a-half hours, the attached evidence will be erased.
‘Done. Now, who to?’
She reeled off a couple of news editors’ addresses she’d memorised.
John then pressed ‘Send’. The on-screen clock displayed ‘04:32:55’. A message appeared in John’s inbox: ‘The attached files could not be sent. Permission denied.’
‘Shit,’ they said in unison.
Serena stood. ‘I’m going to take it to David Tuckett at Channel One. They’re the largest TV station and they’re only in North Rocks. Shame all the other stations have moved out of town.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ At that moment, an email arrived. It was titled ‘I warned you not to fuck with me.’
‘It’s him’ she whispered, feeling her strength begin to drain away. Bukowski’s choice of words had been deliberate and effective. Haunting images of her assault filled her head. She could hear his voice in her ear: ‘Never fuck with me again.’
‘Let’s see what the scumbag wants,’ said John, opening the email.
You have something of mine. Return it to me and all will be forgiven. Fail, and you will both discover the true meaning of pain. Show its contents to anyone and they will not last the night. In four hours and thirty minutes the contents of the DVD will be erased. If I don’t have my disc back before then, so will you.
Serena swallowed hard, refusing to let his threat weaken her resolve. ‘He’s running scared if he’s emailing us directly,’ she commented with a bravado she didn’t feel. They watched the black lettering begin to fade until Bukowski’s email disappeared.
‘How? How did he do that?’ she asked. The phone rang. They both jumped. John hesitated, and then answered it on speakerphone, so Serena could hear.
‘There’s a gentleman in reception, who insists on seeing you. He won’t say where he’s from.’ ‘I’ll be right down.’ John hung up. ‘No, you can’t. He’ll be from Gene-Asis.’ ‘Serena, take the disc to Channel One. Leave by the fire exit and I’ll deal with this man.’
‘John, he’ll kill you if he thinks you’ve seen the disc. Come with me to Channel One.’
He ejected the disc. The countdown clock read ‘04:27:22’.
‘No, I’ll buy you time,’ he said, handing her the disc and showing her the fire escape stairs. ‘At the ground floor fire door, press 5990 on the keypad and it’ll open without the alarm going off.’
‘Come with me,’ she pleaded.
He shook his head. She kissed him on the lips, and ran into the concrete confines of the stairwell.
Chapter 55
Bursting out of the fire exit into a narrow alleyway crammed with garbage bins, she took a back route to her car. Once inside the sweltering vehicle, she locked her doors. Serena set off for Channel One, ducking into one of the many cross-city tunnels that would take her under the Harbour. Her Sat-Nav gave her directions. The traffic slowed in front of her as they neared the toll booths; it was being funnelled from four to two lanes. This was slow going and she didn’t speed up again until she’d been through them.
Serena accelerated, weaving in and out of lanes. Ahead was another tunnel; this time, cut into a steep hill. She checked her dashboard clock: it was 1.45 pm, which meant she had four hours before the disc went blank. As she entered the tunnel, she noticed massive fans suspended from the roof, like aeroplane engines, moving air through the tunnel. Its walls were dank and moisture dripped down the exposed rock.
It must have been constructed many years ago. To pass through the tunnel, the traffic was being forced into one lane in each direction.
A piercing light bounced off her rear-view mirror. Squinting, she could make out the massive headlights of a semitrailer, with its huge steel grille and bullbars. It was twenty metres behind her and closing in. She moved her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver, but could see nothing other than the outline of a man. As it closed in on her little car, the truck moved out of its lane to overtake her. Relieved, she gently pressed the brakes, keen to let it go by. The lanes were clear up ahead, so he had plenty of room.
The massive hulk of the truck dwarfed her car as it moved parallel to her. Even with her windows shut, she could hear the drone of its powerful engines. She looked up at the driver’s windows but they were tinted: all she could see was his outline. Then the weight of the truck hit her, the thud so powerful that she thought there had been an explosion. Sparks flew and the side of her car began to cave in with a hideous creak.
Serena pressed her foot on the accelerator, trying to release her vehicle from the truck’s weight, but the crumbling car was locked tight. Her steering wheel useless, she watched, as if in slow motion, the jagged tunnel walls looming closer. She was being forced into the rock. With a thwack, her car hit the rough wall and sparks flew, her passenger window shattering into a kaleidoscope of fragmented glass. Her windscreen cracked. Airbags burst out, metal screeched on rock, as the truck continued to grind her car against the unyielding tunnel walls. Serena let go of the steering wheel and covered her face. Her passenger door caved in. She was trapped, like a sardine in a tin.
In the surreal world of near-death, she was calm. She waited for the end. She didn’t hear the frantic car horn or the truck speeding off as her car ground to a halt with a neck-breaking bang. Hands still over her face, she didn’t see the steam hissing from her car bonnet or the fluids leaking onto the tarmac. She didn’t move a muscle.
A creak of twisted metal intruded on her stillness.