by Hylton Smith
*
The tenuous amalgam of regional health bodies nervously put together a recommendation. It could be no more than that, as they didn’t yet have the requisite authority. In a carefully worded statement they advised the Australian member representative to extend the exclusion zone in the outback. This new urgency came because there was now hard practical evidence to back up their prior analytical findings from the cometary pebbles. Several Rangers in the outback had independently reported instances of cannibalism in various herbivore species which spawned large litters and had a short gestation period. A global call for all cometary pebbles to be returned to the region was broadcast. They would be stored in a deep freeze vault until they could be rendered safe, whatever that meant. The response to both requests was slow, unlike the rise in humans being bitten by animals they knew previously as timid. More thorough analysis of the pebbles which were returned for examination underlined the concern. There was evidence that some of the joined-up bits of DNA had developed, with the assistance of high ambient temperature, to full-blown unfamiliar viruses.
*
VB Aerospace became Pan American Solar Exploration Inc. Julien and Eugene had opted for a consortium of component industry companies with a vested interest in founding an extra-terrestrial domain. The long term vision was based on the philosophy that even though the asteroid had been defeated, there would be more external threats and internal dereliction of managing population growth and climate change.
The family return to Lyon was now a formality and preparations were at an advanced stage. They would never forget Guiana and its people, but it wasn’t quite the same without the various challenges they had all faced while living there. However, it was also a step into the unknown for Reuben, one which he enthused about. Sophie’s return to her homeland was contingent upon his desire to be with her. It had been an apprehensive time for her because he was so laid back, agreeing to anything. She had harangue him time and time again to think this through for himself, promising that she would stay in Guiana with him if he wanted that. The answer was always the same – “What’s to think about?”
*
Julien, Elise, and Geraldine were disembarking from the aircraft, keen to inspect their new homes in Lyon. Eugene, Sophie, and Reuben had commitments to see through before they could leave.
The real estate people had done an excellent job in finding apartments for them. Julien and Elise had agreed on a penthouse overlooking the confluence of the two rivers, the Rhone and the Saone. A generous curved balcony offered a truly sweeping vista of river traffic and distant hills. It felt like the heartbeat of the city without the clogged arteries of street traffic. Geraldine had opted for a ground floor condominium in the adjoining building. She had access to a concierge and communal lounge.
One of Eugene’s priorities was a safety deposit box in Lyon. He’d asked his father to set it up for him. The urgency was to head off any problems with the viral immune infiltration research. He’d kept copies of every detail, culminating in his severance letter to the young researcher who’d carried out the work without permission. His dismissal was deemed as a breach of company policy, all specimens had been destroyed, and only one copy of the reports was filed as evidence of its suspension. Realistically, he was confident the documents would never be needed, but one could never be too careful with stuff like this, allegations of playing God could arrive out of nowhere like a flash flood.
Five Weeks Later
Intense testing of the pebbles continued to throw up strange data, but one laboratory in particular had identified and isolated a characteristic which sent tremors around the planet. Using cultures of altered stem cells as a potential host for the unfamiliar virus resulted in explosive growth of cell doublets, each ‘twin’ of which was unstable. Around the clock observation revealed a battle to the death of one or the other. By assigning Alpha and Beta references the scientists were able to conclude that the Beta types were tolerated for so long before they were attacked. The next phase of interaction was utterly bizarre. If the Alpha unit gained sufficient control of the Beta version, it began to eat it. Suddenly twins became an only child which then went on the rampage for doublets which had become Beta dominant. Because the odds were stacked in favour of the Alpha type, the petri-dish environment gradually but inexorably gravitated to being Alpha-only, and once this was achieved they became dormant. It took many attempts before the researchers could produce a Beta-only petri-dish. Mixing the two dormant cultures then heralded a kind of brief marriage, which was blessed on average with four doublet cells. In three out of four unstable doublets, the Alpha prevailed. The scientists debated whether they should test unaltered stem cells as the culture medium. There was unease amongst their ranks, as some of the team members felt this was akin to waving a firearm about with a finger on the trigger, and the safety catch in the off position. Microbiology roulette.
*
Sporadic reports of complications ensuing from the ever-increasing number of bites by more and more tame species led to a new investigation. There were signs of different parts of a medical tapestry joining up to illustrate a frightening possibility.
Working forwards from pebbles and backwards from those afflicted from the bites, there was no escape from the conclusion. Every single element in this study showed the presence of this new unfamiliar virus. Panic began to take hold. Leading microbiologists met to analyse the links. Plant life had been affected. Burrowing insects and mammals had gorged on such flora. The food chain had then facilitated onward transmission, accelerating the spread of infection. The truth had to be faced, those already bitten only represented the direct means of infection, and were a mere fraction of those in some stage of incubation. Species jumping was widespread and modes of proliferation were equally flexible. Eugene was invited to join the analytical team and he spoke with his father before making a decision.
“Listen, son, I’m not going to try to influence you on this issue. I faced similar situations myself, and if they taught me anything, it was that it ultimately comes down to what you’re fighting for, and what you’re fighting against. Do what you think is right.”
“I guess that’s about what I expected you to say. Nevertheless I needed to hear it. From what I’ve seen and read, this is a virus like no other. It has created itself from bits of DNA which have been travelling around the solar system for millennia. Having seen some of the components, it suggests that a similar virus has existed somewhere in the cosmos prior to a link up with the comet. The one we have here was already primed to reincarnate in favourable conditions. Many of the individual bits of the DNA are recognisable to us, but others are not. I have the feeling that these strange helixes were alive but in stasis, whereas the recognisable parts would not be classified as living until they were somehow enlisted by the living ones after they ‘awakened’. This, if true, would be a first, and may be very difficult to eradicate.”
“It sounds like you’ve talked yourself into joining the fight.”
“I guess so. Mum and Sophie won’t like it but I have to go to Australia. There’s something I want to share with you, Dad. Just in case this virus gets totally out of our control, I want you to be the guardian of the research reports I asked you to put the safety deposit box here in Lyon. Even though it’s a little premature for me to be sure, there seems to be some commonality with the virus in the cometary pebbles. There are distinct signs that a similar infiltration of the immune system is involved. And when I thought more about it, the subsequent fight to the death of the so-called Alpha and Beta units within the same doublet isn’t so dissimilar to the way in which I treated Sophie’s schizophrenia. I know this sounds like a big leap of logic, but the consequences would be dire if I’m right. Why? Because one of the major differences when comparing the technique I used for Sophie to the pebble virus is that it already has a built-in creator mechanism, able to link and utilise other chunks of DNA. This has to stay between the two of us for now, and I’ll keep in touch regularly u
nless they take me away in a straightjacket. This isn’t some regular pandemic which will respond to conventional eradication medicines and quarantine.”
“Hold on, Eugene. What the hell am I supposed to do if you are right and you don’t survive the fight against this bloody virus?”
“Amongst the reports, you’ll find the young researcher’s name. I haven’t got a clue of his whereabouts now, but he should be tracked down. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has found another way to take his work forward, he’s obsessed with it, but he is also extremely gifted in understanding what goes on at the cellular level of life. He should be contacted and questioned over any approach which will give us an edge over this threat. If you have to do this for me, time will be of the essence. We are already looking at an exponential rise in complications with those who have suffered bites, and we have no idea how the complications will develop or mutate.”
Chapter 42
Australia 2042
Eugene’s contact with his father on this occasion confirmed that the battle was being lost. Despite other members of the multi-national panel fighting the war, he believed they were not only in denial, but deceiving the public.
“It all sounds a bit like my situation in Osaka all those years ago, Eugene. What will you do?”
“Well, that’s not an easy question to answer, but I would like you to begin a search for this young researcher I mentioned. Someone has to be prepared to break ranks if we’re going to make any progress at all. Of course, it’s more complicated than your Osaka situation. The virus doesn’t speak our language.”
“Can’t you show your colleagues all of the reports and set up a team of prominent microbiologists to pick up where this young man left off.”
“Not really, Dad. First of all, there’s the refusal to admit abject failure by the people running this Commission. Regarding the young researcher’s work, there’s the abyss between recipe and technique. A lot of what is in the report is vague by definition, protection of the novelty of the idea which could be usurped before patents were granted. Much of the fine detail of the work is in this young man’s head. We don’t have time to start from scratch again. These fools over here have wasted that period already. I also think you need to be frank with the rest of the family, Dad. It’s only a matter of time before I face the lottery of infection, in fact, some of my colleagues have succumbed in recent days. I don’t want to get into speculative scaremongering but we do have to face reality. A reasonably statistical validity has been assigned to something we have discovered in the last week. Whether by bites or airborne infection, and any process between the two, a sub-species is being nurtured in significant numbers of patients. These deviants initially appear to us as chronic schizophrenics, but regardless of any treatment, a resolution takes place. The aggressive strain wins at least three-quarters of the struggles. We’ve also discovered that they can recognise other humans who’ve undergone such a struggle purely by looking at them, never having seen them before. The price paid for such close monitoring has unfortunately led to infection of the people treating them. This has primarily been done by bites from the patients. Not merely as a defensive action, but as nutrition. Some of my colleagues have been discovered with flesh stripped away from the bone. Most of them didn’t survive, but those who did are now classified as Homo Diversitus. I’m not supposed to disclose this to anyone, Dad. So, I’m making preparations to come home. I just hope I make it before I run into one of these ‘creatures’ without being able to recognise what they are; they just look like the rest of us. Anyway, the young researcher’s name is Brandon Mitchell. He’s an American citizen, but he could be anywhere. I hope you can use some of your previous contacts to help locate him without causing too much attention.”
“Take that as read, Eugene. Now, for hell’s sake get yourself out of there. I’m not going to enlighten your mother or sister about what you’ve told me, as they’ll just freak out. It can wait until you get back. Let me know when you’ll arrive as soon as you can.”
*
Having mulled over the names of people he could trust, there was really only one person to handle the request without having to make direct references to the nuances at play. He called Alexei Bondarenko at Pan American Solar Exploration Inc.
“How are things going, my friend?”
“Julien, it is great to hear from you. Everything is fine here. These people offered me a nice senior position, believe it or not without too much pressure, no politics or Mafia. I was not prepared to go back to Russia so I am content with life in Guiana now. Is this a social call? No, I must be stupid asking such a question. What can I do for you?”
“It’s partly social, well at least on behalf of my son, Eugene. As you may know he was part of this Australian thing in the outback.”
“Yes, I saw him on TV a few times. What do you mean, was part of the project?”
“I guess he just got fed up with all the red tape on how to proceed and he hates the climate out there. Apparently, he thinks they never follow any of his suggestions so he’s quitting.”
“Sorry to hear that, so why did you need to tell me?”
“Eugene wants to link up with an old employee who worked for him in the microbiology lab. He’s going to take a break from work and do a bit of travelling. Anyway, he’s lost touch with the guy, and in the move to Lyon, he seems to have misplaced his contact details. I thought that there could still be some personnel stuff there from the old VB Aerospace days. Or better still there could be co-workers still there who know where he went after leaving, you know, it was before the sale of the company. I’d appreciate any help, Alexei, but if you can’t then it’s no big deal.”
“It is always a big deal with you, Julien. We both retain some symptoms of Ivan Kolorov disease. I will check it out and then you can tell me the real reason. Ok, what is his name?”
“Alexei, I’m too old and tired for cat and mouse talk. I just want to see my son happy again. He seems totally traumatised by the bureaucracy in Australia, I wonder where he gets that from? The name is Brandon Mitchell. I can’t say whether or not I ever met him, I just can’t remember. Eugene says he was born in the USA, but all he could tell me about his appearance is that he is well over six feet tall, lean and has a small birth mark on the back of one hand, but can’t remember which hand. Apparently he speaks German, not fluently but more than enough to get by.”
“Fair enough. It might take a few days. I will get back to you.”
The Others
He had managed what many others hadn’t. His journey from the clinic to the outside world had been in no small way down to good fortune, but there had been critical decisions to take advantage of when choice raised its head. The very first was when he knew before anyone else that he was one of them. In future, recognising other Homo Diversitus individuals by sight would become a potent survival ability, in the clinic it was a certain death sentence. Many patients who were known to have ‘crossed over’ couldn’t help giving the game away in front of human officials. Being a nurse was a serious risk either way. If you were clean, you were only a bite away from infection. If you had crossed over, then quarantine and humane termination would probably follow. This practice was one of a long list of control policies with which Eugene took issue, and yet it was never allowed to become public knowledge.
Having managed to self-diagnose, Geoffrey Nelson disappeared from the clinic before anyone suspected what had happened. His first task was to get through the checks at the exclusion zone border. Cosmetic disguise was necessary. Shaved head, no identity or bank cards, stolen overalls from a motor repair shop, and his brother’s car would at least get him out of the medical hub. Food wasn’t a problem, even though he didn’t know why he craved uncooked meat. He became Zlatan, without a surname. The contrived accent of an immigrant would help offset complex semantics when either asking or answering questions. The subtle physiological changes in his optical ability transformed his vision of many warm blooded species. A heat patte
rn was available as well as the outline, at the expense of definition of features. In other words, he had a clear indicator of friend or foe, but a hazy retention of individual faces. By sheer chance he met Valerie in a side street where he dumped the car. She was, or had been, a waitress at a roadside diner. Valerie didn’t yet know she’d crossed over.
“Excuse me, are you ok? You look unwell.”
“Go away, I don’t know you so sod off.”
“It’s the blurred vision isn’t it?”
“How could you know that? Did that bastard who fired me at the diner tell you?”
“I’m not local, so I don’t know any diners around here. I’m pretty sure you have the same problem as I do. You see others as different because of the blurring. One type looks ‘hotter’ than the other for the want of a better description. It seems crazy to talk about seeing heat rather than feeling it. I suppose it could be both.”
“That sounds about right but how do you know so much about the problem with my eyes?”
“I’m sorry to tell you, but we both have this virus which has been in the headlines on all of the news channels. What they haven’t told people is that it’s out of control, and yet they are secretly rounding victims up and disposing of them to try and contain the spread, because there is no treatment or cure. You should come with me, I used to work in one of the hospitals. What other strange symptoms do you have?”