GENESIX: THE TRILOGY

by Greg Logan

  “That’s thirty minutes,” she said, bouncing from foot to foot as she spoke. “Thirty minutes at a pace I doubt anyone else on the team could keep.”

  April was bent over, hands on her thighs while she huffed for breath. “Well, Rick could. But not anyone else.”

  Akila was breathing fully like an athlete will when experiencing a good workout, but she was hardly winded. Her meta-ability gave her more strength than the average human and more agility. Scott theorized she was on a level with Sammy.

  She said to April, “Are you all right?”

  April nodded and straightened up. “I’ll live.”

  April pulled a water bottle from her belt and took a couple pulls from it. She said, “This was a good idea you had, running these trails this morning.”

  Akila nodded. She pulled a water bottle from her own belt. “We spend so much time indoors. And with Scott planning the mission to Europa next month, we will be confined to a very small ship for a number of weeks. I wanted to feel the sun on my face, to breathe the fresh air. To see the open sky overhead.”

  April looked at her curiously. “Do you ever miss home?”

  Akila shrugged. “This is my home, now.”

  “But I mean your old home. Your old world.”

  Akila nodded. “Sometimes, yes. I mean, I have been here four years. And I have never been closer with anyone than I have with all of you. Jake, of course, but also you and Scott and Sammy and everyone else. You’re all like family to me. Except maybe Chuck.”

  April laughed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Even after all these years I’ve known him, he still undresses me with his eyes every time he sees me. But I suppose he wouldn’t be Chuck if he didn’t.”

  Akila said, “And I wouldn’t have met Jake if I hadn’t come here. I never thought it was possible to be in love the way Jake and I are. And Jeff is like a son to me. But there are still times I feel a little lost. A little out of place.”

  “Like when?”

  “Well..,” Akila thought for a moment. “There are so many strange little oddities about this culture. Like, for instance, what is it about breasts?”

  April chuckled. “What about them?”

  “Well, I mean, why does the entire society have such a breast fetish? Women are embarrassed to show them and men obsess about them. Physicians have actually developed a procedure to artificially enlarge them.”

  April took another pull from her water bottle. She hadn’t thought much about it, but Akila did have a point. “We’ve talked about your culture, how it was more permissive. How people were allowed to feel comfortable with their bodies.”

  Akila nodded. “There are many wonderful technological inventions here that we never had. We are actually in the past, according to my perspective, because my world was a few centuries into your future. But on my Earth, because of the last ice age this Earth never experienced, humankind was way behind in its development. So, even though I am technically living in the past, it is a technologically advanced past. You’d think this society would have gotten beyond something as primitive as feeling ashamed of your own body.”

  “Interesting perspective. All the way around. This is sort of a futuristic past for you.”

  “I will admit, I have gotten a little too used to my iPad. And I can’t imagine how I ever got along without Facebook in my own world. And the music—it took a little while to get used to, but some of it is really catchy. But there are times I still feel a little out of place. And I miss some of the people I knew. People who not only no longer exist, but now never actually did at all.”

  April nodded. “It’s weird, this time travel stuff. I’m still not used to it. Scott says if not for the little paradox formed because you and Hasani were in the past with us when Jake broke up that asteroid, you and Hasani would have no longer existed, either.”

  Akila shook her head. “All that talk about time travel and paradoxes can make me feel dizzy. It always did when Hasani used to talk about it.”

  April noticed a pine log lying beside the trail. She walked over and sat. She had to admit, her legs felt a little shaky. After all, she and Akila had covered five miles, up and down a mountain trail, in only a half hour.

  Akila walked over and joined her.

  “May I tell you something?” Akila said.

  April shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Jake asked me to marry him last night.”

  April’s eyes lit up. “Really? Tell me all about it. Did he give you a ring?”

  Akila nodded. “I left it in our room because I didn’t want to risk damaging it on our run today. It is a diamond. What he called a solitaire, I believe.”

  April had a beaming smile ready to break free. She wanted to jump and squeal the way women do when one of them announces she’s engaged, but Akila seemed strangely subdued. April searched her face for any sign of regret or disappointment or reluctance.

  April said, “So, are you okay with it? I mean, you don’t really seem all that enthusiastic. I mean, you and Jake have been together for the past four years. You’ve been living with him at the facility for the past three.”

  “I know. And he was a little disappointed, I know, by my reaction. But again, it is the difference between the world I lived in and where I am now. I am a warrior. My job was to provide security on the missions I went on with Hasani and our late friend, Kontar. We were explorers, not dissimilar to your own team. I put my job ahead of all else. A warrior does that.”

  April nodded. “Duty and all that.”

  “Exactly.”

  April was about to make a remark about Klingons. You live with Scott long enough, and the geeky cultural references sort of become second nature. But, at the moment, she decided it might be best not to.

  Akila said, “I never really thought about building a life with someone. I actually turned away from any thoughts like that, and I did so voluntarily. Our culture was very similar to what I have read of the Egypt of your Earth’s past, and I dedicated my life to serving Pharaoh. This mark on my leg, what you call a tattoo,” she extended her right leg, giving clear view to the green serpentine shape that twined its way upward from her ankle to the top of her thigh. “This indicates the house of combat I graduated from and the martial art we practiced. And also our dedication to our fellow warriors and to Pharaoh.”

  “I always wondered,” April said, looking at the tattoo. “Is that supposed to be a dragon or a snake?”

  “A snake. Though, I have found it looks a little like the Chinese dragon of this Earth’s culture.”

  April said, “So, with this warrior society, did you have to take a vow of chastity?”

  “No, nothing that severe. I was a warrior, but not a priestess. And I would never be happy being chaste. There were times when I took a man to my bed. Hasani, a few times.”

  April’s brows rose, and she said with a smile, “Really? You never told me this before.”

  Akila shrugged. “Well, it was never anything worth telling. What you call in this society, friends-with-benefits. Such things are not considered improper, where I am from. Poor Hasani always wanted more, but I did not want more in my life. I wanted my work to be my center. And now, I have Jake, and my entire life is turned upside down. Partly because of this new society I am a part of, and partly because of Jake. Partly because there are no warrior societies on this Earth—even the concept of a warrior, with duty and a code of honor and such, are considered obsolete here—but there is no pharaoh to serve. And I now find myself wanting to build a life with Jake. Even, possibly, children.”

  “Did you say yes?”

  Akila nodded. “But I think he was hurt that I found myself a little emotionally conflicted and had to think about it for a few minutes before I gave my answer. I tried to explain, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

  April said, “You’ll probably never be able to carry a child full term, you know. Any child of his will probably be glowing with zeta energy, like Jeff was. It’ll have to
gestate in the artificial womb Scott created. And have an implant in its head, to keep it from powering-up.”

  Akila nodded. “So much to consider. And yet, Jake is so wonderful. I so hate to hurt him or disappoint him.”

  “I’ve known Jake a long time,” April said. “Scott is the one known for having the brains, but Jake has always been a thinker. He’s also great at communicating. Just give him time.”

  Jake was in the lab with a beer in one hand, perched on a stool. He was in a dark navy t-shirt with the Red Sox logo on it and jeans. At a table, with the tails of his white lab coat tailing behind him, was Scott. He was also on a stool, staring into a computer monitor.

  Jake had just been explaining to Scott about Akila’s reaction to his proposal for marriage.

  Jake said, “It’s just that, well, we’ve been together for four years. And for last three, she’s been living with me in my quarters. It’s been as though we were married, just without the ring.”

  “Something about the term marriage, though,” Scott said. “It’s just a label, and yet it somehow changes the dynamics of a relationship.”

  “She tried to explain it. And I’m trying to understand.”

  “What’s to understand? She did say yes, didn’t she?”

  Jake shrugged. “Well, yeah. But she seemed so conflicted. Almost burdened.”

  “It’s the warrior thing.”

  Jake nodded. “That’s what she said.”

  “All right.” Scott pulled himself away from the monitor to face his old friend. “I think I know where she’s coming from. Think of it like this. Think of it like she’s a Klingon.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Not another Star Trek reference.”

  Scott held his hands up in the universal signal for whoa. “Okay. Let’s say, she’s a Samurai. And she’s devoted her entire life to serving her warlord. Her Shogun. She gives up on any thoughts of love or happily-ever-after, or having kids. And she does so voluntarily, because she loves being a warrior. And then, suddenly, she’s ripped away from Japan and can never return. Now, she’s here. A society where her ways and values are considered obsolete. She has no Shogun to serve anymore. But she meets the love of her life and finds herself wanting things she never wanted before. Combine all of that with the possibility that she maybe misses her old life sometimes. Her old culture. It must be kind of confusing.”

  “You know,” Jake said, “for an egghead, you make a lot of sense sometimes. When did you learn so much about people?”

  He smiled. “I have a great teacher.”

  “Speaking of April,” Jake said, “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t popped the question to her. You two have been together longer than April and I have.”

  “The thought crosses my mind. And yet, it seems we always have so many things on our to-do list. Such as this thing with the meta-gene I discovered a few weeks ago.”

  “Are you saying you’re still putting work ahead of living?”

  Scott shrugged. “I am what I am, I suppose.”

  Jake took a sip of beer. “What’s this about the meta-gene? I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”

  Scott was now serious. All talk about personal matters was gone. “I’ve been researching history to learn when the meta-gene might have originated. How it has mutated, and so forth. When we met the thirteen-year-old Jeff four years ago and learned of the Boston meta community, and that there is a similar group in New York and one in Philadelphia, and even one in London, it became clear to me I knew very little about something I thought I knew a lot about.”

  “Want a beer?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Jake got up and walked to the small dorm fridge plugged into one wall. He pulled the door open and snagged a bottle of Moosehead and brought it over to Scott.

  Scott took a chug from the bottle. Jake reclaimed his lab stool and said, “I remember, your search took you to graveyards, to scan remains in the ground. And we’ve invested more than a little time in covertly scanning people’s DNA.”

  “What I have found—I have yet to fully confirm it, but what I think I’ve found, is the meta-gene has not evolved or mutated. It has remained intact, without change, as it has passed from one person to another and from one generation to another. And it is always dominant, never recessive. Do you know what all of this means, Jake?”

  Jake shook his head. “Not really.”

  “What it means is, the meta-gene is artificial.” He paused to let the words settle in. “It means the gene was created and then planted in people intentionally.”

  “Intentionally? You mean, someone created this thing in a lab somewhere, and then began injecting it into people?”

  Scott nodded. “Essentially, yes.”

  Jake was perplexed. “Why, for God’s sake?”

  “That has yet to be determined. But from what I can discern, the meta-gene was not present until the early 1800’s. It began showing up sporadically throughout the country and in Europe. Then, in 1880, there was sudden surge of it centering around Boston. By 1920, it was fairly widespread throughout the world. Much moreso than I had originally speculated when I first discovered the gene. I had thought it was nothing more than a random mutation, and to be quite rare. It turns out there may be as many as five thousand throughout the world.”

  “But in most of those cases, their meta-gene has not been activated.”

  “That’s right. I’ve determined that it seems to take trauma to activate the gene. A physical trauma. Peter LaSalle was beaten by his father. April was zapped repeatedly with a taser gun. I’ve talked to members of the Boston community. Mother was mauled by a bear when she was a teenager, on the Iroquois reservation back around 1850. Remember, she’s much older than she appears. Snake was a history teacher, and was beaten and left for dead by gang members who were students of his. Henry was hit by a car when he was crossing the street. The list goes on.”

  “What about Jeff? He didn’t experience any kind of trauma.”

  “Didn’t he, though? When he was still inutero, he experienced all the trauma his mother experienced, and that April and I did, when the building we were in was blown out from under us. That trauma apparently activated Mandy’s meta-gene. It might have activated Jeff’s, too.”

  “But,” Jake was still a little perplexed, “you don’t read in history books about people who could fly, or turn invisible or whatever.”

  Scott took another swallow of beer. “I suppose, in the old days, particularly prior to World War II, there was less violent crime. What happened to Snake would’ve been less likely to happen back then. There weren’t as many cars, so fewer people got hit crossing a street."

  “Like with Henry.”

  Scott nodded. “Buildings weren’t blown up by missiles fired from helicopters.”

  Jake’s turn to nod his head. “And I suppose for those few who did experience some kind of trauma, they would have just kept it a secret. More people lived in rural communities back then. Farms and such. It would have been easier to keep such a thing a secret.”

  “Like Mother. She just kept her ability secret for years. And she said her father was a shape-changer.”

  “So,” Jake said, “what you’re saying is the meta-gene was apparently artificially created sometime in the early 1800’s, and was being planted in people.”

  “That’s about it. I’m running some final tests and I’ll have my answers within a few hours, but I fully expect my conclusions to be confirmed.”

  “So, what do we do about it?”

  “We have to run further tests, and to do that, we go back to when it started happening and take a look around.”

  FOUR

  Quentin and Cosmo were lucky in that they were members of the Society who could wander about in daylight, without drawing any attention. People like Snake, who looked like a reptilian humanoid (you didn’t make jokes about Spiderman and the Lizard around him), or Marty with the compound eyes, were fairly limited in their mobility by daylight. But Quentin and Cosmo d
idn’t have that problem. They could just stroll among the Normals, and no one would notice.

  They walked along, the concrete sidewalk underfoot, the afternoon sun warm on their shoulders. Quentin was clean shaven and his dark hair fell to his shoulders. The ever-present Red Sox cap was perched on Cosmo’s head and a cigarette dangled from his mouth. He smoked because he figured he was probably immune to the effects of it. He was a firestarter and a flame thrower. No other aspect of fire hurt him. He felt a little tingle when he touched a flame, but there was no pain and the flame didn’t burn him. So, why would the smoke harm him?

  They walked on, and people walked past them. Young women in business skirts and blazers. Men in jackets and ties. Some simply walked along, and others had a cell phone pressed to their ear. One man had a blue tooth clipped to his ear and was talking out loud, carrying on a one-sided conversation. It was Boston’s commercial district in the early afternoon. Buildings stood tall about them, creating the effect of a concrete and glass canyon. The tallest among them was the New England Bank and Trust building.

  “Four years of this,” Cosmo said. “I mean, I thought I had it rough before. But four years of living in old run-down apartment buildings. Some of our people even live under a bridge, for crissakes.”

  Quentin nodded. “I know what you mean. Four years ago, when our little group of misfits disbanded, I never would have guessed I would still be here. When that character the Darkness, as he likes to call himself, forced the truce between Scott Tempest and myself, I figured it wouldn’t be long before I boarded a plane back for London. And yet, here I am.”

  “What’s the point? Why do ya stay?”

  Quentin shrugged. “I still believe Scott Tempest and Jake Calder are potentially dangerous. Not intentionally, but because of the power they possess. Too much power doesn’t balance well with human fallibility. But this Darkness chap effectively put an end to anything I could do about it. I suppose, in working alongside Mother and Snake, helping others like us, I feel like I am at least contributing something to the greater cause.”