CHAPTER NINE
The meeting room in the Department of Population Research and Development was dimly lit. The holographic display at the centre of a large oval conference table read MUTATION FFv1, Highly Classified. Twelve scientists sat in the round, paused in waiting; their eager faces turned pallid by the glow of the virtual presentation. Almost all were Chimera. Their large eyes, upturned snouts, downturned ears, hair, fur, wool and whiskers, were on full display.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ Chase called out from the top of the table, Mercy standing by his side. ‘I’d like to introduce Doctor Mercy to our project. She’s an old colleague of mine who has been working in the remote regions of the Belt for many years with the Ecosystem Reclamation Unit studying animal resistance to FossilFlu. I want you to treat her as you would me, your senior. She’s here for a short time to help us crack the code on Mutation FFv1 so we can get on with a possible vaccination.’
Curious eyes met Mercy’s. She took a seat next to Chase who pointed to a young man with ribbed horns curling from the top of his skull down around his distinctly human ears.
‘Coby, you’re up. Let’s get her up to speed,’ barked Chase.
The goat-boy’s thin letterbox irises expanded at hearing his name called out. He drew his hand across the hologram and started scrolling through data and 3D replications of DNA.
Blinking frequently, he began: ‘The FFv1 mutation acts like a bacteriophage; it can move around undetected in the genome...’
The young scientist continued for over an hour, explaining the known details of the mutation. Mercy slipped comfortably into the day, talking disease and cures. As the young Chimeras, one by one presented their work, their less than human features faded from her mind’s eye. They had become just another room of scientist, like the many she had worked with before.
‘I may be able to shed some light here,’ Mercy would eventually interrupt. ‘May I?’ she asked, leaning into the hologram.
‘Please,’ replied a rabbit-woman, who’s turn had come to an end, eager to hand over the spotlight.
Mercy commanded Hope to bring up her presentation in the holographic sphere. Years of research, many guesses proved wrong and assumptions found to be right, scrolled through the air. Her life’s work summarised and divulged to hungry minds. The bewitched scientists listened with rapt attention, absorbing each note of her discoveries.
Hours passed as the day turned to night. Questions led to new and more complex problems. Problems led to hypotheses. Hypotheses led to projects. And the work ahead of them solidified.
Chase remained on the sidelines, a quiet but commanding listener. Occasionally he would throw out a question to Mercy’s comment, or a correction to one of the scientists’ theories. But overall Mercy took charge of the room and fell naturally into the leadership role.
Chase called the day over around ten pm. Mercy waved her hand, and in a blink, the presentation disappeared. The lights in the room came up, revealing hollow-eyed, fatigued scholars, drunk with information.
‘Thank you, everyone,’ said Mercy, ‘for such an open welcome and sharing your research. I’m honoured to be working on this project with you and only hope I can be of assistance. I’ll have my PVA upload my research into the data bank. Everyone will have access to it. And I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Spontaneous applause broke out. Mercy’s ivory flesh burned red.
With a grunt, Chase ended the tribute, ‘Okay, okay. You’re embarrassing Doctor Mercy.’ He verbally ushered the troops out of the room. ‘It’s been a good day. We’ve got our marching orders. Let’s get on these tests tomorrow. Have a good night, everyone.’
The scientists filed out slowly, each taking their opportunity to thank Doctor Mercy. A silver-skinned young woman, who had sat quietly during the day studiously listening and taking notes, now approached Mercy. Her large black convex eyes, protruding from opposite sides of her narrow face, moved independently, one landing vivaciously on Mercy, the other fixed on her colleagues leaving the room. The sight of it left Mercy confused, wondering which eye to follow.
Aligning both eyeballs forward, the young woman tilted her head back and stared at Mercy down her broad nose. ‘Doctor Mercy, thank you for sharing your research. May I ask a question?’
‘Yes,’ Mercy answered, trying desperately not to stare incredulously at the human-dolphin hybrid.
‘Finding the dormant immunity genes in humans is ground-breaking. I’m surprised this is the first we have heard of it. Why is that?’
The question arrested Mercy and pushed her back into the awkward political landscape of this new world. She had to think quickly.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know the answer to that other than that this is a very recent discovery. I guess that’s why I’m here now rather than back in the Belt,’ she said with a polite smile.
‘I see. That makes sense,’ the dolphin-woman nodded. Her left eye wandered again as if thinking privately, solemn. The obvious uncomfortable truth sat between them. Cure humans and do away with the need for hybrids.
‘But it’s irrelevant now,’ Mercy jumped in, determined to put the woman’s fears to rest. ‘The mutated strain has found a way around the virus induced resistance gene. Our work today is about a vaccine for humans and Chimeras.’
The grey-skinned woman’s thick, rubber-like lips curled into a smile. ‘Of course. Thank you, Doctor Mercy.’ The right eye took the lead from her left as she walked out the door.
Chase sat at the table bent over a screen held in one palm, scratching notes with the other hand, his pointed ears turned forward, deep in concentration.
Mercy thought of interrupting him but suddenly felt an intruder. As the last scientist left, she turned to follow.
‘Would you like to join me for a nightcap?’ he asked her without looking up.
She hesitated, unsure he was addressing her directly.
Chase rolled his eyes up, surprised by the lack of an immediate answer. ‘I’m sorry. Do you have other plans? I just assumed you were free.’
‘No….’ A flustered answer. ‘I mean, yes, I’m free; no, I don’t have other plans. But it’s rather late?’
‘Up to you. I understand if you want to call it a night. Great work today.’ He followed with an approving grunt and nod.
‘Thanks. You have a strong team. They seem to work well together.’
‘Young, I know, but the best minds in the Sanctuary.’
‘Yes.’ Mercy left the word hanging.
‘I’m sorry, yes, they are the best minds or yes, you’ll have a nightcap?’ Chase let out a rare smirk.
‘Yes, to both,’ Mercy smiled back. ‘I’m still rather energised from today if I’m honest. I could use a wind-down.’
‘Great,’ he replied, dropping his head back down and continuing note-taking while talking. ‘The Prime has given us access to her private dining quarters. Hope can give you directions. I’ll send Joan a note, and we can all meet in fifteen minutes.’
‘Of course, yes. See you then.’ Mercy left the room feeling dismissed.
CHAPTER TEN
‘Floor three hundred and seventy-seven,’ announced the elevator. With a swoosh, the doors opened.
Two guards stood at the end of a short hallway before a closed door. One, a stout man, human in features except for the thick golden lion’s mane circling his head from cheek to cheek, motioned towards the door. ‘Doctor Mercy, welcome. Right this way.’
‘Will the Prime be joining us tonight?’ Mercy suddenly asked, worried for not having considered it before.
‘No, ma’am. The Prime is not in residence. Doctor Chase and Ambassador Joan are waiting for you.’
Designed for the Prime to entertain smaller groups, the corner suite housed both a dining table and a lounge area. A long bar stretched across the back wall where rows of unlabelled glass bottles filled with coloured liqu
ids were lined neatly on shelves.
‘Doctor Mercy, please join us,’ invited Joan from her seat at the bar.
Something was different about her. It wasn’t just that her snow-white hair, kept tightly back on her head during the day, now tumbled down past her broad shoulders. No, something more fundamental. Her eyes are different, Mercy realised. Yesterday, they were human eyes, white crown around a brown iris. Now the entirety of the eye was dark brown; like a seal.
Caught staring, Mercy stumbled over her response. ‘Thank – you.’
The Ambassador immediately understood. ‘Sorry for the disguise yesterday. The Prime felt it would be best until she explained about hybrids.’
‘I prefer them this way,’ replied Mercy, quick to put the blunder behind her, and took a seat at the bar.
Hope spoke from thin air. ‘What would you like to drink, Doctor Mercy?’
‘Alcohol is rare in our city,’ Mercy shared with Chase and Joan. ‘Would you recommend something?’
Chase raised his glass. ‘This is a gin and tonic. Joan has red wine.’
‘Gin. I think I’ve read about that. Fermented agricultural produce, right?’
Hope answered before Chase could. ‘Yes. The dry Gin served here is made from wheat.’
‘Well, that sounds like something I should try. I’ll have a gin – and – tonic,’ Mercy requested.
‘Good choice,’ Chase confirmed, taking a long sip of his drink.
‘How was your first day in the lab?’ asked Joan in a friendly tone.
‘Enlightening,’ Mercy answered. ‘Doctor Chase has been very welcoming.’
Chase offered a gracious nod in return.
Joan continued, ‘Chase does not often offer praise, but he talked very enthusiastically about your presentation today.’
Chase made an affable growl; his cheeks flushed red.
‘Thank you. But I’m equally impressed with the team and their work. Unravelling the mutations genome in such a short time is a remarkable result,’ said Mercy.
The Gin and tonic arrived via a drone. Mercy lifted her glass. ‘Cheers,’ she offered.
The clanking of glasses rang, and the trio settled back into a natural conversation. Chase and Mercy discussed next steps and a few new ideas Mercy wanted to run by the team. Joan asked pointed questions and contributed to the discussion with equal measure.
‘Ambassador, your knowledge of genetics is impressive.’ Mercy complimented, sounding surprised.
Joan shot Chase a look as if to command him to stay quiet before answering: ‘Yes. All Chimeras complete a program of genetics and molecular biosciences. We are required before the age of fifteen to have completed programs in biochemistry, structural biology, cell and development biology, and genetics and genomics.’
‘All of you?’ Mercy pried further, sounding even more surprised.
Chase, no longer able to remain quiet, spoke, ‘You see, Doctor Mercy, we were not just designed to have DNA for study, we were also designed to study DNA.’ His eyebrows raised and he smiled slyly, drawing out the sarcasm of his comment. ‘We are an army of genetic scientists built to dissect ourselves and save our creators. It’s the reason we were engineered to be sentient so that we can study. Otherwise, I’d likely be sitting on the floor panting at your feet right now, waiting to be patted.’
‘That’s why there are so many Chimeras working in your lab?’ She replied, quick to ignore the uncomfortable reference to a house pet.
‘Yes, and still the best minds for it,’ he defended more than answered. ‘It’s easier for Low-Cs to stay in the program than face the racism and fear out there in public.’
‘I see,’ Mercy answered quietly, trying to sound respectful. ‘Low-C?’ she asked after a moment.
Joan answered. ‘That’s the street name for our classifications. High-Cs are the most human-like; Low-C displays more animal features. They are derogatory terms used by humans. Mostly behind closed doors.’
‘Ambassador, you’re not working in a lab, then?’
‘Ten years ago, when the Prime took office, she freed the Chimera from the lab, giving us citizenship status and allowing us to choose our path. I, like many Chimera, signed up for military training shortly after. We were used to a disciplined lifestyle, and to be honest, outside of Government work, we didn’t have many options in the beginning.’
Freed. The word sent chills down Mercy’s spine. An entire species engineered to be slaves sounded barbaric.
Anxious to change the subject, Mercy asked, ‘So, you and Doctor Chase know each other from before work?’
‘Yes, we were in the same Generation.’
Joan peeled back her sleeve and brushed her left fingertips over the underside of her right forearm. The number G5.34.21 glowed beneath the soft white fur on the surface of her skin. Chase repeated the movement on his right forearm, revealing his id: G5.435.662.
‘Is the Prime…?’ Mercy asked, trailing off before saying the word Chimera out loud.
Chase laughed, ‘No, she’s pure. Chimeras are her family legacy. Her father served as Prime for thirty years before she took the seat. And before that, he was in charge of Population Reclamation. Hybridisation was his idea and program. I guess you could say we share the same father,’ he jested.
The Prime’s maternal defence of the Chimeras suddenly made sense. Mercy wanted to ask more but dared not. She worried she had reached the limit of their tolerance for her personal questions. Placing her glass on the counter to signal an exit, she said, ‘I should be getting back to my quarters. Tomorrow’s another long day. Thank you, both. I’m still a bit overwhelmed by all of this. Your openness about your history…maybe I shouldn’t have pried.’
‘Doctor Mercy, you are our guest,’ Joan offered earnestly. ‘We have nothing to hide. I would only suggest you don’t allow yourself to get distracted by our politics. The cure is all that matters. It will not only stop a pandemic but possibly stop a war against the Chimera.’
Chase grunted and nodded in agreement. Their unspoken agenda was clear. Mercy was being recruited. Neutral was not an option: help find the cure, and she would also help the Chimera.
Sudden exhaustion weighted Mercy as she stepped off the elevator. Anxious to get back to her quarters and still heavy in thought, she hadn’t noticed the hooded stranger approaching from the other direction, until, with a hard thump, they bumped into each other. Something fell onto the floor, hitting Mercy’s foot.
‘I’m sorry,’ Mercy blurted out, startled.
The stranger, head hung low to hide his face behind the hood of its cape, spoke quietly and rushed, ‘Please take it, Doctor Mercy. You’re in danger.’
Her body went rigid, and her mind numb. Questions spilt out without much thought. ‘Excuse me? Who are you? How do you know my name?’
The mysterious messenger spun around and quickly dashed down the hall in the direction of his arrival, turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. Mercy stared at the empty corridor wide-eyed and baffled.
Slowly, her brain started working again as she tried to make sense of the situation. Did he say I’m in danger? Her gaze fell to the ground where a small black object lay, accidentally dropped or intentionally left. Quickly, she collected the chip and hurried into her apartment.
Safely inside, heart still pounding, she stared at the small metal object lying on the table before her. She assumed it to be some kind of data storage.
Why me? What kind of danger? From whom? She asked herself nervously.
‘Hope, contact Ambassador Joan,’ Mercy requested immediately, then thought twice, ‘Wait. Hope, cancel the call.’
Trying to calm her breath, she approached the situation logically. Who might have a reason to harm her? The Prime brought her over, so it seemed unlikely she would want to put Mercy in danger. Joan and Chase had revealed their reasons for needing Mercy�
�s help. Senator Arjun seemed a likely candidate, blaming the Chimeras for the virus mutation. But why her? Getting rid of Mercy wouldn’t stop the research.
For the first time since arriving at the Sanctuary of Americas, she truly felt alone, with no one to confide in or trust. After much deliberation, she decided to wait until the morning when she would be back in the lab and could access the secure lab PVA.
Mercy lay on her bed, unable to sleep, her mind tense. A cool breeze from an open window near her bed floated towards her. After long minutes of tossing, her worried mind, at last, gave in. She dreamed.
Rolling dark clouds, heavy with thunder and rain swirled above her, threatening a severe storm. Winds picked up, and Mercy felt her body lighten. Desperately grappling at the ground, she couldn’t stop herself from being sucked up into the violent air. With nothing to grab onto, she was tossed and twisted; lost. That’s when she heard the song. A light tune was playing on a breeze. Gentle for all the ferocity surrounding her. Was it a child singing? No. A bird’s song? The haunting melody, indistinguishable as human or animal, brought the storm to rest and Mercy back safely down to Earth.
As soon as her feet landed, she bolted up in her bed wide awake, realising the song was real. And it was coming from a creature hovering outside her window looking directly at her!
Feminine in form, the young bird-girl had a short yellow toothless beak for a jaw but on a human skull with human-shaped eyes. Two large wings mounted on her back flapped rapidly like a hummingbird, keeping her frozen in space. She wore a loose sleeveless dress revealing scarlet and turquoise feathers lining her arms and neck. Her dark auburn hair, human, floated in the air on the wind of her wings. Dangling at the end of her exposed human feet were long nails sharp enough to capture, kill and carry prey.
The creature suddenly stopped singing.
Children of the Miracle Page 6