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Flypaper: A Novel

Page 6

by Chris Angus


  “It’s currently speculated that we’re all descendants of the last Mitochondrial Eve who lived in Africa some two hundred thousand years ago. However, there may have been many such genetic bottlenecks in history and many Mitochondrial Eves in the past. And there will doubtless be more in the future.”

  Kessler slumped back in her seat. “A good explanation, Dr. Cooper. But again I remind you, we have no definitive evidence as yet that this bizarre result, in fact, shows up in all living humans. Frankly, for that to be the case, your Mitochondrial Eve would’ve had to appear so far back she might well have been a dinosaur. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t understand what it all means. It’s a mystery.”

  “And it’s a mystery you’ve been brought here to unravel,” said Page.

  “Unravel how?” asked Duncan.

  “An excellent question, which brings us to the second part of our presentation. Mr. Logan.”

  Dr. Kessler watched as Logan uncurled himself from his chair and went to the lectern. He moved with ease, his body lithe and highly conditioned. He ran one hand through thick, dark hair, exposing a high forehead with a stark, white tan line.

  “The bodies or samples you’ve all been working with are in various, but generally poor, conditions. The best one thus far was Mr. Melville’s bog woman. However, she very mysteriously deteriorated in unprecedented fashion. What we need is another sample from a more preserved specimen. Despite all the research being done around the world, only six early samples of the unusual debris, or mutation, whichever you prefer, have come to our attention so far.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Kessler. “You can’t conjure these things up out of thin air.”

  “Actually, I have, Marcia—out of very thin air, in fact. As you know, I’ve worked in . . . various capacities . . . for the State Department in China for more than a decade. Six months ago, while . . . uh . . . climbing near the edge of the Bogda Feng glacier, my group came upon the remains of a man frozen in the ice. We weren’t supposed to be in that area and did not, therefore, report the find to the authorities, who in any event are notorious in their desire to exploit such things—as I suspect Dr. Kessler may confirm.”

  “Six months?” Kessler looked incredulous. “And no one’s gone after it since? It’ll be completely deteriorated by now, if not dragged off by animals.”

  “A reasonable speculation. In fact, however, the body had been split in two unequal parts by a rent in the glacier. A small portion of the foot had broken away and melted out. A friend of mine took it back to Beijing to show to colleagues at the university. When I later returned to the city, he gave a tiny section of it to me. I managed to sneak it out of the country. The rest of the body remained encased in the glacier. If we’re lucky, that’s where it will still be.”

  “You smuggled an ancient body part out of China?” Kessler shook her head in disbelief. “Eric, I’ve known you a long time. We’ve even worked together in China. But you must be out of your mind. That, or you have a secret desire to spend the rest of your life in prison. The Chinese are very possessive of their cultural artifacts.”

  Logan smiled. “Believe me, Marcia, I knew it was a risk, but I’ve established a network for such activities during my years in China. Anyway, to continue, the tests conducted to date confirm the same phenomenon exists. More tests are being done, but the sample I was given was too small for extensive research. The body has been carbon dated to about twenty thousand B.C.” He hesitated. “We don’t know where this strange inter-gene junk came from. It doesn’t appear to be a genetic mutation but rather something added on. Its existence raises some interesting questions. Specifically, is it human in origin at all?”

  “Nonsense.” Alan was on his feet. “It’s been found in samples around the world going back at least two million years . . . of course its human!”

  “Precisely when it first appeared,” said Page, “is something we’ve yet to determine, though I gather we all agree it had to be introduced a very long time ago. It’s almost as though something had . . . infected . . . the human species.”

  “Oh, come on, Gordon.” Kessler rolled her eyes. “Tell me there’s some unexplained evolutionary change going on in our DNA and maybe I’m with you. That’s how it works. Such polymorphisms are what cause the variations of physical makeup—eye color, hair, et cetera, and can also lead to disease. But if you’re about to tell me the human species is being taken over by alien infestation—the return of the Pod People—I’m out of here.”

  Page laughed. “Not to worry, Doctor. I’m certainly not advocating little green men. There are, of course, more subtle ways by which our species might have become contaminated. You’re all aware of the theory that life on Earth might have begun as a transplant of bacteria via meteorites from Mars or some other extraterrestrial source.”

  “Sure,” said Alan. “We all know amino acids have been discovered inside meteorites. Experiments have even been done to see how the material might survive the extreme pressure upon entry into Earth’s atmosphere.”

  “Excuse me,” said Logan. “As one of the non-eggheads in this room, what do amino acids have to do with it?”

  “It’s been shown,” said Alan, “that amino acids under such conditions not only survive, but are transformed into more complex compounds like peptides, which link together to form proteins. I still believe, however, that the likelihood of actual genetic material surviving interstellar travel as a hitchhiker on a meteor is remote.”

  “Perhaps,” said Page. “But such a theory was first postulated by the Greek philosopher, Anaxagoras. And Francis Crick suggested more than thirty years ago that extraterrestrials could have spread life throughout the stars in the form of spores or genetic material encapsulated in small meteorites.”

  “Are you seriously suggesting,” said Duncan, “that human DNA may have been altered sometime in the past by an alien intelligence?”

  “No,” Page replied. “I can’t honestly say I’m suggesting anything at this point. We don’t know enough. But the possible ramifications, I think, are all too obvious. Humans may not be what we think we are. What’s more, what if the debris in this sequence has some unknown long-term effect? What if there are further . . . infections? What if, to go out on a limb, we’re being manipulated as a species for some specific reason?”

  “Oh boy, here we go again,” said Kessler. “Back to the Pod People. Talk about your long-term planning. I say who the hell cares? If an outside intelligence is manipulating us, they probably can’t do anything worse than we’ve been doing to ourselves. Besides, for all we know, they’re trying to improve us. God is an outside intelligence, after all. Every religion on Earth bows to His manipulation—assuming it’s in our own best interests. Maybe this intelligence sees humanity as a form of contamination in the universe requiring regular, prophylactic injections.”

  “There’s another possibility,” Alan suggested, quietly. “Maybe the reason humans have been so destructive to ourselves and to our planet is because we have been infected—we aren’t what we would have been if we’d been allowed to develop according to the laws of nature. We might have turned out better.”

  Eric Logan raised a hand. “We’re getting a little off track. The point is, as I think we’ve just seen illustrated, none of us has any idea what’s going on. Which is why this group is going to go to China and extract that body, which will be a much better preserved specimen than any of the others to date, for further examination.”

  There was an icy silence. Now they knew why they were here.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” Kessler said in a loud voice.

  “Well, I’ve been announced in a lot of ways, but never like that!” said President Klein, who had entered the room.

  They all stood up. Kessler felt ill. “I’m sorry, Mr. President,” she rasped. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  Klein raised a mollifying hand. “You were about to comment on something, Doctor. I’m the one who has interrupted. Please go ahead.”
/>   “I take it you know the details here, sir,” Kessler said. “Have you any idea the sort of international brou-ha-ha this could raise with the Chinese if they find out what we’ve done?”

  “Precisely why we have Mr. Logan here on our team. He has a reputation for getting difficult jobs done discreetly. I believe you may have experienced that first-hand, Dr. Kessler, am I right?”

  Kessler waved a hand. “I can’t argue with you, sir. Eric has great experience in China and I’ve been the benefactor of some of it.”

  “Good!” The president sat solidly in the front row. “Why don’t you tell us your plan, Eric?”

  Logan nodded.

  The rest of them resumed their seats as the lights dimmed and a satellite photo filled the screen. It showed a mud-colored landscape in the middle of which was a large, peanut-shaped white area.

  Logan began, “You’re looking at the Bogda Shan massif, part of the Tian Shan mountain range in Xinjiang Province, China. The range is over 150 miles long, averaging 13,000 feet in elevation. The highest peak is Bogda Feng, seen here, at almost eighteen thousand feet. Next slide.”

  The next picture zoomed in on Bogda Feng, showing a jagged, steeply peaked mountain.

  A large glacier snaked down one side.

  “The body we discovered is at the base of the Bogda Feng glacier . . . approximately here.” He pointed with a red laser. “The glacier is huge, hundreds of meters thick, several miles wide, and is surrounded by ice caves and valleys, quite a treacherous landscape. Over here,” he moved the pointer, “is Tian Chi, also known as Heavenly Lake. It’s located in one of the coniferous forests that cover the northern foothills of the range. There are several old Taoist monasteries, and a fair amount of tourist activity occurs in the region—hikers, climbers, et cetera, as a result of the area’s close proximity—about sixty miles—to the city of Urumqi.”

  “I would think, then,” said Leeanne Fitzhugh, who’d been silent thus far, “that it’s probable someone has already stumbled upon your body.”

  “A reasonable speculation,” Logan said. “But unlikely. It’s located far off the primary tourist paths and in a place requiring some skill and motivation to reach.”

  “So your plan is to just waltz in, carve the body out of the ice, say good day to you all, and bring it on home,” Kessler said sarcastically.

  “Well, I think it will be a little more complicated than that, Marcia. In fact, your recent discovery of the family group north of the Tarim River is going to give us the perfect cover. We intend to go in there and set up a remote dig site with the full cooperation of the Chinese. It will be the base from which we’ll sortie to Bogda Feng and bring out the body. Everyone here will be properly vetted with credentials and you will personally vouch that they are necessary members of your team. You’ve worked with the Chinese long enough that they should have no reason to question you.”

  Kessler stared at him. She was not at all unhappy at the prospect of getting back to her family group so quickly. On the other hand, she’d be putting her reputation with the Chinese on the line. If anything went wrong, she might never work in China again.

  President Klein seemed to read her mind. “Dr. Kessler, I understand we’re asking more of you than anyone else here. You’ve spent many years developing a relationship with the Chinese. It’s understandable you wouldn’t want to jeopardize it. Since you’ll be taking the greatest risk, I want to offer you some compensation.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow you, sir.”

  “If this all goes wrong and you are ousted from China permanently, I will personally guarantee you that any future federal grants you ever apply for in your field will be approved.”

  Kessler stared at him with wide eyes. “Can you do that?” she asked.

  “I assure you I can. And I believe this matter is that important.”

  Mollified somewhat, Kessler turned to Logan. “I’m a little curious. I suppose it may be possible to find the body and extract it from the ice, but how do you expect to get it out of China?”

  Logan smiled. “I think you’d better leave that part to me.”

  Page glanced at his watch. “Just a few more points on logistics, people. For obvious reasons, we need to move quickly. There’s no telling how long it will be before the body melts out on its own. Dr. Kessler, you’ll be in charge of the scientific part of the operation. You should plan precisely as you would for any other archaeological dig. In fact, we want this to look as normal as possible. Get the proper permits and put the Chinese at ease.”

  Kessler grimaced as she thought about misleading Huang. Despite his ignorance of science in general, the man had a knack for seeing through people.

  “Mr. Logan will be in charge of logistics, supply, and security. It’s our determination that it wouldn’t be wise for the government to be directly involved in the financing, just in case there is any kind of international brou-ha-ha, as Dr. Kessler put it. Therefore, we’ve solicited and received the kind support of Mr. Littlefield, who will provide whatever we need.” Everyone turned and stared at Littlefield who only nodded like some sort of remote Tibetan sage, albeit one dressed in a Hawaiian shirt.

  “We want everything to look as though this is a completely legitimate, privately financed archaeological expedition to examine the family group discovered by Dr. Kessler. To enhance the picture for the Chinese, we’ve enlisted a reporter to go along, ostensibly to make a documentary of the proceedings. The reporter won’t know the real purpose of your work. Her name is . . .” Page consulted a pile of papers, “Diana Shatraw of National Geographic.”

  Alan Cooper groaned. “Are you certain you want to do that? I’ve met Ms. Shatraw. She’s the one who roasted my work. She’s inquisitive and smart, but also probably more than a little out of her depth in remote locations.”

  “All to the good,” Page replied. “She’ll be less inclined to tag along on lengthy backcountry explorations. Keep her at the site. She probably won’t be interested in accompanying fishing expeditions to search for other dig sites.”

  President Klein stood up. “That settles it, then. I want to thank you all and emphasize once again that secrecy is the first order of business. I don’t believe the rest of the world is ready to accept what these recent discoveries may mean. Hell, we don’t know what they will mean either. But something profound is going on, ladies and gentlemen. Something that may strike at the very heart of what it means to be human. The discovery of life on another planet would be peanuts in comparison.”

  The president remained seated in the projection room with Gordon Page. The scientists had been dismissed, along with the projectionist. General Jeremiah Burgoyne, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had joined them. Klein sat with his hands steepled, his eyes focused squarely on the general.

  “I must confess, sir,” said Burgoyne, unable to keep the agitation out of his voice. “This business has me worried. The changes in the genetic debris as a result of the sequencing done by all of the various groups suggests we may be witnessing the formation of some new, and perhaps continuously evolving, phenomenon. It’s been suggested, however speculatively, that it might code somehow for a prion. We could be looking at a biological weapon here of potentially devastating power.”

  “Gordon?” The president looked at his friend and science advisor.

  “I’m afraid the general is right, Mr. President. We don’t know what’s going on. If there’s potential for a biological weapon of some kind, I shudder to think what might happen if someone else gets this figured out first.”

  Klein sighed heavily. “All right. Your concern is noted. Still, there’s no reason I can think of to worry our team about the weapons potential here . . .”

  “They’re smart people,” said Page. “They may figure it out for themselves.”

  “Nevertheless, let’s try to keep them focused on the matter at hand—finding the new sample.”

  “There’s another matter,” said General Burgoyne. “It has to do with the
Chinese general, Zhou Zeli.”

  “The rogue army commander?” asked the president.

  “Yes, sir. As you know, he’s assumed total control of the army. The forces are completely loyal to him. Our intelligence suggests he may be considering some sort of coup, perhaps with the intention of installing himself as dictator.”

  “Are they really in that much trouble over there?” asked Page.

  “We believe so. At the moment, all we can do is watch the situation. Indeed, there are some who suggest it might be in our interests to allow it to happen. Once the Communists are toppled, who’s to say what will follow? It might even be a democracy. China is coming more and more under the sway of capitalism. Her people have tasted the fruits of another way of life and, frankly, they like it.”

  “Perhaps,” said the president. “But in my opinion, it’s more likely to lead to complete chaos. I also think you overestimate our influence when you suggest we should allow it to happen. We don’t have that sort of control in China. Not by a long shot.”

  “The only reason I bring it up,” said Burgoyne, “is because we may be sending our people into the middle of a very volatile situation.”

  Klein studied the faces surrounding him. “Your point is taken, General.” He looked at Page. “Gordon, you may inform Mr. Logan. No one else. Make sure he understands the mission is too important to be put off simply because there is the possibility of unrest in China.”

 

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