Paradeisia: The Complete Trilogy: Origin of Paradise, Violation of Paradise, Fall of Paradise

by B. C. CHASE

  “One thing, though, you got right, and that is that DNA is the language of life, and without it life does not exist. De novo gene origination only happened once and has never happened since. The process of translation and transcription does not allow for mutations to produce entirely new, functional genes with their vast complexity. Life is not chance. Everything has purpose.” He said with fire, “It has been obvious from the beginning to anyone with an iota of common sense: life is a deliberate act. I have seen it. And so will you.”

  The cap sections had fully withdrawn, revealing the terrifyingly familiar black water of Lake Vostok beyond. Easily, the vessel moved forward and into the remote void.

  As they pulled out of the chamber, Doctor Ming-Zhen stood in astonishment. Visible outside was an entire complement of submarines. Six of them, each a dark form looming in the distance. Blinking lights on their hulls were reminiscent of night-flying jets.

  “Seven down, three more to come,” Zhang said. “I’ve been in all of them, but this one is the flagship, the best.”

  Wishing for the second time in his life that he had not come down to the waters of Lake Vostok, Doctor Ming-Zhen said, “With an operation of this magnitude, you’ll have to remind me why I am here again. I can’t escape the feeling that I amnot needed.”

  “You know why you are here. We needed you because they asked for you.”

  “Who asked for you?”

  “Them,” Zhang said, turning back toward the window, making it apparent that this was all the answer he intended to provide.

  The Red Dragon submarine pulled away from the rest, leaving ample space for the three yet to arrive. Once the entire flotilla was assembled, the Red Dragon led the way forward.

  Still staring out into the abyss, Zhang said, “Do you remember seeing the magnetic anomaly, Zhou?”

  “If it was the vortex, then yes. I remember it.”

  “Well, given the fact that we have no more than ten minutes until the tide recedes, you can expect to be reacquainted with it shortly.” He turned around and said in English enthusiastically, “Oh, and do fasten restraints. We wouldn’t want to have any accidents.”

  Zhang and Doctor Chao Han took seats.

  Everyone followed the advice, urgently struggling to figure out how to fasten shoulder harnesses to a strap that secured the hips.

  Doctor Ming-Zhen felt an anxiety-inducing sense of familiarity as the submarine pushed through a cloud of brine shrimp. The fact that the submarine was angled downward, pulling him forward in the chair and giving the sense that he was on a roller coaster car just leaning over the precipice of a large drop, made his discomfort that much more acute. With a powerful reverberation from the thrusters, the vessel quickly picked up speed, traveling through the haze of shrimp with ease. Before long, he felt himself being pressed back in his seat with the velocity. He glanced at Jia Ling beside him, who was pushing her palms into her seat and cringing. Donte was similarly disquieted, though he was trying to disguise it.

  Without warning, there was a loud whine from deep in the vessel. It slowed to a stop and then began to spin. Outside, the shrimp cloud was passing by at an ever increasing rate. He felt a wave of nausea, so squeezed his eyes shut. Then, he felt the submarine tilting forward. He could not help but open his eyes and saw that they were not spinning, but were in the center of a giant whirlpool, three other subs below them, all at a steep angle, the noses still dropping. He recognized this as the magnetic anomaly vortex, a continuous mass of shimmering fish, jellyfish, and manta rays lining the outer wall. Doctor Ming-Zhen dangled forward in his shoulder restraints as the submarine’s trajectory became totally vertical. A brilliant flash of light suddenly exploded from the center of the vortex below, and, with a cramping jolt, the submarine launched toward it.

  Following the three other subs before it, the Red Dragon made a linear path directly down the center of the vortex, the mass of sea life rotating around it. He felt his fingers tingling as they approached the flashing source of light which seemed to become more expansive the closer they came. It became apparent that the light was not flashing, but rather was a series of countless rays moving in spiral more and more rapidly toward the center. Everything was spinning, stretching in a spiral toward this center. The fish, rocky walls, innumerable sparkling bubbles like a galaxy, all rotating at the speed of sound into this pinpoint of light.

  Doctor Ming-Zhen was holding a tiny, wet form in his hands. A little blood trailed down from a white foam-covered head. Its mouth opened wide, the jaw trembling, its small voice protesting this cold new reality.

  His newborn daughter.

  Little Li.

  He stared in unmitigated awe.

  On a patch of green grass, Li toddled toward him, barely able to walk. His wife, Bao, smiled as he took his daughter in his arms.

  A teenager, she sat at a piano. She looked to him with eyes seeking his approval.

  A flash of white.

  They were in the center, a tremendous, foreign force acting powerfully on his body; not gravity but some kind of unseen energy. He felt Jia Ling’s hand gripping his and he looked over to see her face stretching, widening, skewing and he heard her blood-curdling scream, two screams, three screams in a broad array of dissonant pitches filling his ears.

  This was what death looked like. He felt weightless, like a spirit.

  This was the way to diyu.

  Layla

  The white gave way to blackness. She was in a sea of bubbles, rising. Orienting herself, she saw a moonlit, shimmering surface.

  Her lungs screamed for air.

  She struck toward the undulating light. Her muscles burned for air. Kicking, pulling, reaching.

  She couldn’t stop the urge any longer. Her mouth opened and sucked in a flood of choking water. The air from her lungs bubbled out and raced up toward the surface she had been trying to reach. Her lungs gasped water in, over and over. She was sinking, curling in on herself in the fetal position, her own blood coiling up around her.

  Blackness closed in.

  She heard a soothing chorus of insects, felt warmth on her lips. Layla’s eyes opened to see a face pulling away from her. She sat up, coughing violently. Water freely poured out of her mouth. Then, with a few breaths, she began to feel better. As she breathed, she took in her surroundings.

  A vast sea of active black water dancing with starlight was to her right, mountains edging a dark, shifting azure horizon. Crystal clear stars that seemed to slowly move or undulate made up the sky. She was on a bank of luxuriously soft moss, water gently lapping the shore. To her right was a line of magnificently tall, thin palm trees and increasingly thick vegetation beyond. And, kneeling beside her, Doctor Katz.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice clear and warm like honey. He looked radiant with life, with a strong jaw and beautiful eyes she thought she could easily get lost in.

  She blinked, astounded. There was no pain. In fact, she was feeling increasingly vigorous, almost powerful. She lifted her blood-stained shirt to look for her wounds. She saw smooth skin, her belly button. But not a mark. She ran her fingers over her stomach, as if to search for the injuries she knew must be there.

  But they were gone. On her shoulders, too, no sign of the spears that had pierced her flesh.

  Doctor Katz was similarly unscathed.

  “What happened?” she asked in disbelief. “They tried to kill us!”

  “I know,” he replied, his voice rich and strong. He was unbelievably attractive, as if he was suddenly the best version of himself in her eyes. She almost lost her breath just looking at him.

  She breathed, “How is this possible? Have we died?” As she said it, she was surprised to hear a voice that sounded vaguely unfamiliar utter the words. Her voice was beautiful, glowing.

  He smiled, flashing perfect teeth, “I feel too good to be dead.” He rose to his feet, offered a hand, “Are you able to stand?”

  Doctor Katz’s hand was warm, his touch sending a shockwave of sen
sory stimulation up her arm. She pulled back, as if she had just touched a hot stove.

  He had felt it too, because he blinked in surprise. Then he smiled. “Wow,” he said. “Did you feel that?”

  She nodded, looking at his hand uncertainly.

  “You want to try again?” he said.

  She took a breath and touched his hand with one finger. Again, a blast of stimulation, like a million pinpricks of soft, ecstatic feeling. Without a moment’s more pause, she gripped his whole hand. She lost her breath, nearly fainting with pleasure. Then she joined him in rapturous laughter. He effortlessly pulled her to her feet. She was surprised by how light she felt, and how energetic she was. They slowly turned to cast their gaze inland together.

  Thick grass of the deepest green carpeted the ground to the line of giant trees that marked the edge of a forest. Their branches gently waved, as if an enormous, unseen hand was caressing them. A vine was dexterously winding around a trunk, sprouting beach umbrella-sized leaves and beautiful, long-petaled pink and white flowers that burst open before their eyes.

  A collection of bubbles seemed to appear out of nowhere, flowing out over the grass. Layla squinted to see more clearly, but quickly realized that she could see with perfect clarity despite the distance. Inside the bubbles were pink blobs which tossed and turned as the bubbles grew. Within seconds, these morphed into shapes with four kicking legs and long necks that thrashed backwards and forwards, growing larger until the bubbles burst, giving birth to a flock of graceful gazelle infants that spun upright just in time for their hooves to kick off the ground, bounding into the air, their large baby-eyes shrinking, their builds maturing. When they bounded the second time, they were adults, gracefully flying fifteen feet up and landing again. The flock of gazelles leaped across the shoreline, continuing the fifteen-foot, slow jumps with joyful abandon.

  Layla stared in awe. “What is this place?” she said in a breath.

  StarLine Paradeisia Hotel

  Henry and Gonzales quietly entered the living room of the Presidential StarSuite. Moonlight silhouetted Lady Shrewsbury as she stood looking through the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall glass. Gonzales nodded toward her, and looked pointedly at Henry. Henry stepped between a modern sofa and armchair to approach behind her. The scene out the window was breathtakingly beautiful, twinkling lights from yachts dotting a harbor, moonlight reflecting off a peaceful ocean beyond.

  Henry placed a hand on Lady Shrewsbury’s shoulder, and she jumped, gasped. Henry quickly said, “Shhh. It’s Henry.”

  She spun to look at Henry, then glanced at Gonzales off to the side. Breathing a sigh of relief, she quietly said, “Thank goodness you’re here! They have me…” she trailed off. “Now where is Ignatius?”

  Henry said delicately, “The vice president has taken control of the island. They are after something. Something down the portal.”

  “I deduced that much. But, Henry, you failed to answer my question.”

  Henry opened his hands.

  Gonzales said, “He’s dead, Lady Shrewsbury. He wouldn’t tell them what they wanted, so they killed him.”

  Lady Shrewsbury scoffed with utter disbelief, “But how can that be?” She searched the faces before her as if to catch some glimmer of deceit in them.

  Henry stepped toward her. “I am … truly sorry.”

  She nodded sadly. “Poor Ignatius. Why wouldn’t he just tell them what they wanted?”

  “I wish I knew. But we can certainly admire his bravery, whatever the case.”

  After a moment’s silence, Gonzales said, “I am very sorry about this, but we need to get out of here before your guards decide to check on you.”

  Lady Shrewsbury said, “How did you two get in here in the first place?”

  “There is a service entrance for heads of states’ security.”

  “And I suppose that’s what we’ll take to get out?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’ll have figured that out by the time we get downstairs.”

  Henry said, “Excellent, let’s go.”

  “Just a moment, Henry. I must find something suitable to wear.”

  “You’ve got slacks and a shirt. That’ll do, I should think,” he replied.

  “Not hardly,” she said with a warning tone. “Who knows how long we could be on the lam. And I daresay I would sneak into my own suite, too, if I were you, and fetch something better to wear.” She glanced disdainfully at his feet, “Those Edward Greens must be murder.”

  Henry said, “Not at all. My only complaint is that the traction is not impeccable—particularly on the precipitous, muddy slopes Marco here has been leading me on.”

  The engine came to life, sputtering in the water and sending a small plume of smoke in the air. Gonzales pushed the shift into idle and the luxurious bow rider moved slowly away from the dock. With Henry seated in the passenger seat across the aisle from him and Lady Shrewsbury seated in the back, Gonzales crept their boat out of the harbor. He kept the boat hidden among the small, rocky islands that dotted the coast. They came around a peninsula and saw the Escape from Atlantis area.

  On the shores of two small islets dimly visible through a low mist were two darkened structures. As their boat slipped silently by, shifting shadows were visible through the large glass windows. The shadows seemed to pace back and forth, going about their business heedless of one another, each in its own empty world like unseen ghosts.

  “The Biobots,” Henry said. “Preparing something for tomorrow, I suspect. Remarkable.”

  Just as he said it, the shadows stopped moving, in unison. Their dark heads turned, and on their gray faces, eyes opened to gleam white and vacant.

  Lady Shrewsbury’s voice was foreboding, “Circus performers? All of them?"

  “What do you mean?”

  “The GLS executive had said that the Biobot we saw with glowing white eyes was a circus performer; that the eyes were for special effect.”

  “There’s no circus in this area of the island,” Gonzales asserted.

  Suddenly, the boat shuddered. A slight ripple erupted two yards away in the water, where a red pin of light could be seen underneath. The red light descended deeper until it was no longer visible.

  “What the heck was that?” Gonzales uttered, increasing the throttle. Wind from the bolstered speed whipped their clothes and hair.

  Henry peered over the side. Deep in the water, pairs of red dots were visible circling the vessel. One of them began to rise. Henry said, “Get us out of here!”

  “Where?”

  Lady Shrewsbury, clutching the hat on her head, pointed toward an islet where a peak was split at the waterline by a cave-like crevasse, “There!”

  Gonzales swung the boat around toward it. There was an immense jolt as something struck the hull from underneath, and behind the boat a black, seven-foot fin slowly sliced up out of the water, vapor shooting from a blowhole, before slipping back under the surface as gradually as it had appeared.

  “A killer whale?” Gonzales uttered in disbelief, anxiously glancing backwards.

  “There’s more than one,” Henry said, pointing to another whale surfacing. The immense bulk of its body and the deliberate, relaxed way in which it appeared to easily shadow the boat was intimidating.

  “I didn’t think they lived in the Caribbean,” Gonzales said as a half-question.

  Henry looked down into the water again and saw an unmistakable white and black form passing closely below. Underfoot he could feel the agitation of the water against the hull caused by the animal’s tremendous displacement. The whale spiraled over and stared at him. A red glowing spot was just above its eye.

  Lady Shrewsbury nervously shifted to the middle of the rear bench seat. “Do make all possible haste!” she urged Gonzales.

  The islet was fast approaching and Gonzales steered directly for it. The boat jolted as one of the whales struck it from the side. Gonzales slowed so he could navigate the narrow entrance
of the split into the cave. Warning signs were affixed to each side: “DANGER: NO ENTRY” with big red X’s and a bar with a third sign blocked the way. The bow easily knocked it away.

  The growl of the engine echoed on the craggy walls, mingling with sounds of gurgling water. Gonzales quickly slowed the vessel to idle. A metal dock with rows of metal cylinders was ahead, and Gonzales piloted toward it. The blast of a blowhole directly behind the boat told them that the whales had not given up pursuit. Suddenly a giant killer whale head burst out of the water on the port side and landed over the edge, lifting the starboard side up and nearly sending the passengers sprawling. The orca opened its mouth widely, exposing its frighteningly large teeth. With a shake of its head, it slid back into the water, sending the boat rocking.

  Gonzales roared the engine to life and plowed the boat right into the dock, “Get your butts onto the dock!”

  Henry hurriedly assisted Lady Shrewsbury to her feet and to the front of the boat, where there were seats forming a triangle to the bow tip. The vessel shuddered just as Henry stepped onto the front cushion, and he almost lost his balance. He quickly leaped onto the dock and turned to assist Lady Shrewsbury, who clung to her hat as she disembarked.

  “Hurry!” Henry yelled to Gonzales, spotting the seven-foot fin approaching from behind. Gonzales leaped three steps to the front of the craft as a swell of water surged over the back of the boat and the largest of the whales burst from the water, its front end landing on the back of the vessel, completely submerging the tanning pad and thrusting the bow high into the air. The whale’s mouth gaped wide.