by Unknown
She considered the small bronze bust on her desk. Lord Darwin, the Father of evolutionary science, bald except for a bushy beard and hint of teeth barely visible below his moustache. In all his works, beginning with Transmutation of Species, he said the consumption of human blood was nothing more than a cannibal fantasy — a myth about bloodsucking monsters created by Homo sapiens because their species was failing.
Kara imagined Darwin fuming about it, striding across the lecture hall, spittle caught in his beard, eyes blazing. It’s not a need for blood, he’d shout, that elevates Homo vamparians above their less evolved cousins, but plasma proteins. A superior food source, easy to manufacture in even the simplest lab. Blood was, well, crude.
But, she didn’t feel barbaric. If anything, she felt stronger, healthier. She flexed her arm, feeling individual muscles lengthen and contract, and cocked her eyebrow at the bronze head. Could Darwin have been wrong?
She shook her head to clear it. No. She knew all his precepts by heart, drummed into her head before she could read. Darwin predicted that man in the near future, as measured in centuries, not millennia, would be a more perfect species. The failure of Homo sapiens and the ascension of Homo vamparians proved him right.
A low tone followed by rhythmic clicking snapped Kara’s attention to the sealed windows. The shades began rising and moonlight flooded the office. Finally! She grabbed her recording tablet and pushed her chair back, bumping the body.
In the end, Charlie had made the offer to her, not Angeline. The study of this Homo sapiens community was just the beginning, she could feel it — the next important scientific landmark perhaps as heralded as the work of the venerable old man himself. Her name would be recorded in Vamparian history. It was her right. Her heritage. No one would remember Angeline.
As promised, Charlie picked her up in front of the Institute right on time in a black, two-seat rover. “You look a little, pale—” Charlie began, and then laughed. “But then again, all Vamparians look pale to me. Sorry. Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine.”
“You’ll need to use your palm chip to get us out of the Net. You know that, right?” He regarded her with interest.
Kara turned over her palm and rubbed the silver disk embedded in it with her thumb. A green pinlight pulsed gently in its center. She nodded.
At the checkpoint, a guard stared at Charlie and asked to see his chip. Before he could answer, Kara leaned across and explained that Charlie was one of her research subjects. She smiled, hoping she looked reassuring, and waved her palm at the sensor. The guard peered at the data coming up on his screen and scrunched up his face.
“Dr. Morales? Is everything all right here, ma’am?”
“Yes, fine, thank you.”
“Okay, but be back before 0600. Sunrise is 0632.”
She nodded at him but the guard continued to glare at Charlie.
“Absolutely. 0600,” said Charlie.
The guard hesitated. Kara could tell he was thinking about giving Charlie a hard time, but then he waved them through. The rover eased into the tunnel. In seconds they were through the Net and travelling in the desert.
They made good time on the expressway, heading due west, straight as an arrow. Behind them, the gold dimpled bubble hovering over the city gradually receded and eventually disappeared from view. Without the Net’s protective web, the moon, stars, and terrain appeared in unaccustomed focus; sharp, clean, and visceral. Fascinated, Kara held her breath, watching the landscape slip by, until she realized he’d asked her a question.
“Um, I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said I was curious about your colleague, Angeline. Do you work together on this project?” asked Charlie.
“No! I mean, she’s not a scientist. She works in public relations, recruitment, that sort of thing.” The image of Angeline bent over the touch screen on her desk appeared suddenly in her mind, sending a pulse of adrenaline through her system.
Angeline had been trolling her office when Kara returned from the lab.
“What are you doing?” Kara stopped short in the doorway, her voice unnaturally high.
“Oh Kara, there you are.” Angeline straightened and dropped her hands to her sides. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Again the smile. She came out from behind the desk.
“Is there something I can do for you?” asked Kara, consciously lowering her voice but keeping it even. Her eyes darted to the screen but she remained planted in the doorway.
“Yes, well. Oh, this is embarrassing.” Angeline offered a tiny laugh and smoothed the front of her coat. “Just today, I was thinking that maybe this Sapiens Outreach project of yours deserves more resources. The Institute could benefit from the publicity. And Mr. Koop would be an ideal Homo sapiens specimen — I mean, just look at him. And your study would benefit too, of course.”
“I see,” said Kara slowly. Her body had gone rigid.
“Come on now Kara, you can’t keep him all to yourself.” Angeline winked and moved sideways to step around her. Kara didn’t flinch.
Angeline frowned, the smoothness of her face momentarily distorted. She shifted her weight to the other hip. “Dr. Morales, let me remind you that your funding is coming up for review. The Director is ready to reassign resources. No one wants to pay for studies of under-evolved species, but you do things my way, and maybe I can change his mind.”
“Charlie Koop is not under-evolved,” snapped Kara.
“True.” Angeline tapped her chin with her finger. “But, as far as the public is concerned, sapiens had their chance.” She crossed her arms. “We weren’t the ones who burned the ozone all to hell. We survived, they didn’t. End of story. Besides,” her voice turned silky, “sometimes family connections only get you so far. I’m throwing you a lifeline here.”
“I don’t need a lifeline from you, or a lecture on Vamparian science.” Kara retorted. “Charlie is something different, something I … we … haven’t seen before. If there are more like him, they have to be properly studied.”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” Angeline plucked at imaginary strands on her sleeve, “which is why the Institute needs transparency, Kara. The public wants, no, they need to know about our discovery. They’ll want to see that we are handling the situation effectively, and that Charlie and his friends are carefully managed.”
“By you?”
“If you like.” Angeline looked smug. “The proposal to the Director is done anyway. I just needed a few more details,” she gestured behind her at Kara’s computer. “He should be pleased. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he keeps you on. Somebody has to count genes, or whatever it is you do.”
Kara felt her cheeks burn. If Angeline wanted her share of glory, fine, but not by turning the research into some kind of freak show. Kara’s eyes cast wildly about the room. She didn’t want strings attached. To hell with funding. Charlie was her moment, not Angeline’s.
Sensing her distress, Angeline tossed her hair and sneered. “What, Kara? Afraid of sharing? I’m not surprised. Like father, like daughter.” She grinned maliciously. “I heard he was a bit of a control freak. Rumor has it he complained about siring a throwback or two.”
Kara’s vision bled white.
A different voice — male — penetrated her consciousness and the image of Angeline wavered. “Kara, are you all right? Seriously, what’s wrong?”
Kara turned her head and Charlie’s concerned face came into focus. Opening her eyes wide, she found herself leaning far forward, almost doubled over, all ten fingers digging into the dashboard. Gulping, she collapsed back into the seat and turned her head towards the window. Her chin and sweater at the neckline were soaked with saliva. Hastily, Kara rubbed her mouth with her sleeve and concentrated on breathing normally.
“Sorry Charlie. I’m fine,” she stammered.
“Okay,” he sounded doubtful. “Well, anyway, we’re almost there. Then, we can get you something to drink.”
The flats had gi
ven way to rolling hills, dotted with short thick-needled trees. The road, holed and littered with stones, wrapped around the base of a hill. When had they pulled off the expressway? Bewildered, Kara swiveled her head around.
“Where are we? Where is your place?”
Charlie brought the rover to a stop. “There. Don’t you see it?” He got out and began walking towards the hill.
Disoriented, Kara stepped out of the rover and gasped, nearly falling. The heat of the unshielded environment took her breath away. Until now, she’d always been protected from a landscape that never completely cooled from the scorching it received every twelve hours.
Up ahead, Charlie waited for her. Behind him squatted a collection of dome-shaped dwellings arranged in two circles.
“Welcome to Saturna,” he said when she reached him.
The rest of the night passed like a dream. Over the next few hours, the members of Saturna emerged from their homes, both males and females, each just as bronzed as Charlie. They submitted agreeably to her greedy rush of questions. How did they live? Where had they come from? What about their parents? What about water, food, waste…?
“Hold it, enough. I give up!” laughed Charlie at one point, raising his hands in surrender. They were seated inside the largest building at a long table covered with cloth.
“But, how … how do you survive out here? The heat…” Kara asked.
Charlie shrugged. “You tell me, you’re the scientist. The heat doesn’t bother us.”
“But the UV—”
“Isn’t an issue,” interrupted a woman named Lola. She looked roughly the same age as Charlie and dressed in the same dull brown garb. Her hair was dark, though, like Kara’s. Both hands were bandaged up to the elbow, which seemed strange, but Kara noticed others at the table bearing similar injuries.
Before she could ask about it, Lola continued. “Well, I should say, the UV’s not as much of an issue. UV-C can cause just as much damage to our DNA as yours if we’re not careful. We’ve just learned to … adapt when necessary, and now we’re adapted at the cellular level.” Her eyes flicked to Charlie. “But as for the rest of it — UV-A, UV-B — our skin doesn’t burn like yours.”
Stunned, Kara’s mind reeled from the possibilities. How had Vamparian geneticists missed this development in Homo sapiens physiology? Before she had time to sort out the implications, platters of food appeared. Tentatively, she lifted a piece of something white and moist to her lips, first smelling then touching it with the tip of her tongue. Meat? She’d never tasted anything like it. Was this real protein, she wanted to know? Where did it come from?
Charlie winked and wouldn’t answer. “Some secrets are worth keeping, Kara. But the wine’s Vamparian. You’ll find it more to your … taste, I think. Here,” he reached over and filled her glass. Kara took a sip and relaxed, feeling the familiar blend of synthetic proteins slide down her throat. All this, she thought looking around, was almost too much to process at once.
After dinner, Lola took Kara’s hand and examined her palm. “Let me see your chip. You must be at least Level 9?” Startled, Kara watched Lola press down gently on the implant and cover it with her thumb. The green glow of the pinlight showed through her fingernail.
Kara swallowed another sip of wine. “Uh, no. I’m Level 8. Level 10 is the highest.” Charlie and Lola exchanged glances.
Thinking they doubted her, Kara blurted, “But, Level 8 is actually quite good. I have access to almost all Institute data collected since 1859.” Her voice ran on, gathering momentum. In the six hundred years since Darwin, she told them, the Institute had sequenced hundreds of millions of genomes, genetic information of practically every species. She had access to it all, including rare clearance to travel between Net cities.
“That’s impressive. I think your father would have been proud,” said Charlie softly. Her father? Kara squinted at him. She was beginning to feel hazy. Yes, she thought she remembered telling him about her father, but wasn’t it something unpleasant? She couldn’t think clearly. She looked down at her palm. The green pinlight continued to pulse comfortably, but beside it, another tiny light shone a steady red. Kara frowned, her brain slurry. There was something important about red, a signal for…
“Wait. I can’t…” she mumbled, “…something’s wrong…”
Lola laughed. “Then no more wine for you. Come.”
Before Kara could protest further, Charlie and Lola had taken her by the elbows and were leading her to the open area in the center of the ring of dwellings. They let go of her and she swayed. The wine? Was there something in the wine?
Charlie removed his shirt. He paused, smiled at her, and then stripped naked. Lola did the same. Kara’s eyes widened as the other members of Saturna also took off all their clothing.
Kara laughed nervously. “I hope you don’t expect me to do that.”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” Lola’s voice had lost its earlier friendliness. Kara felt a pang of warning run through her. There was something wrong here and her breathing quickened, while her brain fumbled to make sense of it.
“We recharge our bodies in full sun each day,” Charlie explained. “We find dawn works best.”
Dawn? Kara stumbled towards the edge of the circle. Wait. “What time was it? How long have I been out here?” Panic seized her. “It’s sunrise? No, that can’t be, Charlie you have to take me back. I have to go back now!”
Tightness built in her chest, a vice squeezing the air out. Gasping, she whirled in a circle, and then made an awkward charge towards the ring of naked bodies. Hands pushed her firmly back into the centre.
By now, the sky had lightened enough to turn the stars into weak beacons. Even the moon looked feeble. With each breath, she felt the temperature jump. The sweat forming on her face and arms evaporated as quickly as it appeared. Moisture fled her body, the air seared her lungs. Kara’s eyes, burning in their sockets, scraped dry against her lids.
She turned to Lola, beseeching. “What are you doing? Help me, please.” She grabbed her arm but Lola jerked away.
Lola turned to another man who carried a large metal case into the circle. “Quickly, it’s almost time.”
Dumbfounded, Kara watched while they lay Lola carefully on the ground and removed the bandages from her arms. On her upturned palms, Kara could now see deep, angry red cuts. The man knelt beside her and from the case withdrew a needle and vial. He wasted no time and injected her, rendering her unconscious in seconds. Charlie too knelt and with practiced ease, took a sickle-shaped blade and sliced open Lola’s palm in two swift strokes, carving a bloody ‘X’.
“What are you doing to her?” choked Kara, her heart beating painfully against her throat.
“Preparing her hand for the imbedding,” said Charlie evenly. He didn’t look up. Quickly, he placed a number of other unrecognizable instruments on the ground beside Lola’s unconscious form. “The transfer of the chip must happen at the moment of incineration or else the Net believes the primary carrier is deceased and immediately deactivates it. It’s why we couldn’t just kill you earlier and take it.” He said this with calm, matter-of-fact assurance.
Kara stumbled backwards, shaking her head, her voice a cracked whimper. “No, no, no…” This couldn’t be happening.
“We’ve had a few near successes, but this time we’re confident we’ve resolved all our past problems. With your chip and security clearance, we should have no trouble bringing down the Net. Then, we purge and repopulate. Genetic recombination of all species. Except yours, of course.”
“What … what are you talking about?” she sobbed.
“Survival of the fittest, Kara.” He stood and faced the east.
Escape. With every ounce of energy she had left, Kara flew towards the edge of the circle. Charlie stepped easily into her path and she slammed into him.
“Charlie, let me go!” She screamed and slapped his chest. When he refused to move, she hit him in the face.
He grabbed her and forc
ed her face towards the distant hills. She didn’t want to look, but her lids refused to close, all moisture in them gone. Horrified, she watched the first shard of fire pierce the horizon and a wave of light race down the hills and across the scrubby plain. Her legs gave way. At the moment of impact, her back arched.
Soundless white pain.
She crumpled and black smoking patches, like heat blossoms on paper, danced up her arm. She scrabbled at the ground and tried curling into a ball, but Charlie grabbed her hand and pulled her fingers open, holding her palm to the light. Black spots appeared between her fingers, spreading around her chip and into the meaty flesh of her palm.
“There, there, Kara,” Charlie whispered, stroking her hair as it fell out in clumps and turned to ash in his hand. “It’ll be over soon. Level 8, you said? Thank you, for that. Truly.” He placed his hand on her forehead like a blessing.
The other man worked feverishly on the husk of her outstretched palm. Charlie leaned into her ear just as it curled around itself like a blackened leaf.
“You should know Kara, Darwin was mostly right. How did you say he put it? Ah yes: man in the distant future will be a far more perfect creature. But he was also wrong. What Darwin — your father — and all Vamparians failed to realize is, he was talking about … us.”
* * * * *
Leanne Tremblay is a new writer of fantasy for children and teens. So far, the fanged undead have rarely made an appearance in her tales, but that could change. “Survival of the Fittest” is her first published story. She was inspired by the idea that history is largely written by the victors, not the vanquished. A graduate of the University of British Columbia and a long-time technical writer, she lives with her husband and two boys in a little seaside town near Vancouver, BC.
The Faith of Burning Glass
By Steve Vernon
I see the bottle glint in the distance long before I can ever hope to be sure.