The Mendel Experiment

by Susan Kite

  Corree sighed and tried to figure out how she would get out there. While she could swim, if she had to, she could count on one hand the number of times she had been in water deeper than her thigh. One didn’t splash around in forest pools. Forest creatures lived in the water, too, and some could be quite nasty. Others liked to wait near pools and prey on animals that went there to drink. She began thinking about what could live in the ocean and shivered. There had to be something to ride on. Corree had a rudimentary idea of a raft, but wasn’t sure how to go about building one. Her knife could help strip leaves from vines to tie wood together, but it wouldn’t cut the tough hardwood branches.

  Then she saw a dead tree lying at the edge of the forest. How to get it to the water was the next problem. The log was as thick as her waist; gnarled limbs jutted out in all directions. As she pondered, Corree saw smaller logs, most not much more than the diameter of her arm. She gathered a half dozen and laid them in a row. She hacked several lengths of sticky vines and used them to tie the logs together. The light waned to blackness and Corree climbed into the nearest forest giant to get some rest. Sleep was hard coming. Mostly she dozed, but was awake when the first moon rose beyond the western horizon. Even though she wasn’t hungry, Corree foraged. She suspected it would take all the energy she had to make the trip to that island.

  When she returned to the raft, she checked her lashing. There were only a couple of knots that needed tightening. She took the two logs she had kept aside and laid them in front of her raft. With some effort she was able to push the raft onto them. It was fairly easy to roll the raft to the water’s edge after that. A long piece of bark would serve well enough as a paddle. A final shove and the raft slid into the ocean.

  Wavelets splashed against her face, the caustic elements stinging her eyes at first, but the protecting film slid down over the lenses and she felt better. Corree splashed aboard her makeshift transportation and immediately felt the raft tilt upward on one side. Her feet slipped, but she finally managed to make it to the middle. She eased the makeshift paddle into the water and pushed away from the safety of the jungle. Experimentation showed her the best way to propel the raft through the water toward the island. Soon she was beyond the reach of the shore waves. The swells were larger and farther apart and she paddled in their rhythm. A warm breeze ruffled her pelt. It was soothing, even as the patter of rain was soothing in the great forest.

  When the second moon rose, Corree groaned in disappointment. She wasn’t even halfway to the little island. With a frown, she dug her crude paddle deeper into the water and stroked as hard as she could. She eased closer and closer to the rocks. Her shoulders were sore, but still strong. Corree felt the tug of a new current; one that pulled her toward the rocks.

  She stopped paddling. The rocks loomed closer and closer. Corree saw the water crashing against their sides and realized her peril. She tried paddling her raft parallel to the shore, but now the current was too strong. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. A huge wave picked her off her raft and drove her toward a massive boulder. She tumbled under the foamy water, felt one foot scrape against the rock. She swept over the boulder and banged against a smaller one just beyond it. Another wave picked her up and carried her farther onto the shore, rolling her like one of the pebbles she had watched earlier in the night.

  Corree choked on seawater, gagging at the cloying, biting tang. Her fingers dug into the sand, trying to stop her tumbling progress. She rose to her feet, only to be knocked back down by the next large wave. Finally, she was able to crawl forward and beyond the reach of the punishing waves.

  She coughed water out of her lungs and lay panting in the moons’ waning light. When she had gathered a bit of strength, Corree stood up. Her legs were wobbly and she leaned against a smooth boulder. After wiping brine from her eyes, Corree studied her surroundings. It looked desolate. There were no signs that anyone other than herself had ever been on this jumbled mass of rock.

  She walked the beach just beyond the water line, occasionally having to climb over crustacean-covered rocks. The interior sloped upward to a gentle rise covered with a few windswept trees. How anyone could live here was beyond her. Not even a pod could have sustained a family for the years they had been on Mendel. There was no pod now. It didn’t look as though there ever had been. Could the holo-man have been lying?

  The wind whistled mournfully and rattled the limbs of a scraggly little tree a few feet up the rise. Corree shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The loneliness was crushing. She had always had the group nearby. Even when she was scouting alone, she could hear or sense other creatures nearby.

  A new thought struck her. How would she get back? Corree scanned the beach for the raft. There was no sign of it. Not even one log. Panic made it hard to breathe. What had possessed her to do this? This group was either dead or they had moved somewhere else. She had been crazy to do this! Corree sat against the base of the tree. The noise of the surf warred with the whistling of the wind. Both sounded mournful and lonely. She slid down onto the sand and curled up into a ball. Thinking about anything was too tiring right now.

  Corree lay on the sand until the moons had both set and the bright glow of the approaching sunrise brought new anxiety. She was in the open. Scrambling to her feet, Corree looked for shelter. She studied the few stunted trees at the top of the hill. They were less than useless. There was a small copse of bushes on the other side of the island, halfway to the shore.

  The shade was scant, but she was exhausted. Sleep came quickly. The sun beat through the brush and she would wake just enough to move to a more shaded spot. It was dark when she fully woke. The moons had not risen. Her eyes made out tenuous movement. Wind still whipped the trees, but the motion was more than that. Then Corree looked at her feet and saw a shell. It was round with up-turned sides and filled with several different things. The scent told Corree that everything was from the sea.

  She reached out and touched one of the objects. It was prickly outside, but contained something soft inside. Corree dug it out with a long nail and popped it in her mouth. The taste was sour and sweet at the same time; quite pleasant, she thought. Her stomach demanded more. She had not realized how hungry she was in her misery at being stranded. The other offerings joined the first.

  When she was finished, Corree sat back and considered. This didn’t just blow in on the wind. “Hello,” she called out. “Thank you for the food.” She paused to see if anyone would answer. Only the surf did. “I’ve come to see you. To talk to you.” More silence. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.” Nothing moved, except the skeletal limbs of a nearby tree. Frustrated, Corree got up. She paced a small area around the brush, avoiding the tumbled mounds of rock.

  A slight glow on the western horizon told Corree the first moon would soon rise. Occasionally she called out her reassurances, but no one answered. She was sure her invisible benefactor was long gone by now. Picking her way down to the beach facing the mainland, Corree tried to figure out how to return. There was nothing here sturdy enough to build another raft. She couldn’t swim and even if she could, there was no telling what might be waiting to eat her.

  As the moon rose, Corree finished her exploration. She watched the pale-green orb lift above the horizon. The foam appeared luminescent and little lights winked at her from under water. She stepped closer to the water to investigate. It was almost as though the glow bugs of the forest had undersea cousins. Corree walked into the foam, curious. The lights retreated and she stood still. They approached cautiously. Something tickled her ankle, and then a whisper of touch worked around her legs and feet. She stepped back, tripped, and fell into a shallow pool.

  The lights gathered around her. They didn’t touch her but seemed to be waiting for something. The water rose slowly as the tide moved in, but she remained motionless. The glowing creatures fascinated her. Why were they interested in her? She knew they didn’t mean her any harm. They approached and touched her again, tickling every part of her
that was underwater. Corree allowed the investigation until the tidewater reached her chest. Afraid she might be dragged out to sea, she scrambled back onto shore. The glow creatures retreated just far enough into the depths for her to know they were still there.

  The glow bugs’ departure brought Corree back to the problem at hand. She wondered not only how she would get back to the mainland, but also how she could survive the prolonged effects of the blue sun. She swept her hand down her arm and felt the sting of sunburned skin underneath. Her pelt protected her from the acidic rain that dripped through the trees, but the forest was her protection from the harsh sun. Even her eyes smarted from the excessive sunlight. There had to be better protection than a small stand of bushes.

  Corree explored again, this time with an eye for some kind of cave or crevice where the sunlight couldn’t reach her. The second moon had risen by the time she found what she was looking for. Two boulders were leaning against each other. There was a small, triangular crevice near the ground that she should be able to squeeze through. The only problem was that Corree had no idea if anything lay beyond. Her ears caught no sound of anything moving or breathing. Her nose detected nothing either. Still, she was wary. Corree imprinted the location in her mind and continued her exploration.

  This time she hoped to find some evidence of the person who had brought her food. Why would he or she be frightened of her? They had all lived together in the large space pod. Until the dreams, though, Corree hadn’t remembered that. What if this group had not had remembering dreams?

  Two more trips around the island showed nothing else. The brightening western horizon sent her back to the crevice in the rocks. Corree got down on her stomach. She realized her tool belt would hamper her so she took it off and shoved it in the opening, using a stick to push it out of her way. There was still no sound from within. She slithered into the crevice, feeling the morning sunshine on her back. Corree stretched her fingers to grab onto anything that was inside, but only clawed sand. The surfaces of the rock seemed to have a sticky-bark hold on her. Corree grunted with the effort to squeeze in. She exhaled and pushed with her toes. Finally, minus a little bit of pelt, she was in.

  The inside opened up into a fairly roomy corridor that led downward. She was surprised to hear dripping ahead of her and smell vegetation more suited to the rain forest than to this wasted wind-blown island. Corree put her belt back on and crept down the low passageway, mindful of any sounds that would indicate occupancy. Only a short distance and she was gasping in wonder. The cave was three times her height with a small waterfall at the far end. It flowed to a pool that smelled salty/acidic like seawater. The falling water was fresh.

  Only dim light filtered in behind her, but she was able to see quite well. The little glow lights from outside were gathered so thick they were like a thin covering over the whole pool. Corree walked around the edge to the waterfall and tasted a few droplets. It was good water; as fresh as any in the rainforest. Standing underneath the flow, Corree let it soothe her burned skin and fill her empty belly. Now that she was safe, she felt fatigue deaden her limbs. She curled up on the sand, her back to a rock wall, to rest. If she could stay awake long enough, maybe she might see who had brought her the food the night before.

  Corree felt something different inside her body. Could the water have been poisonous? She looked at her hands. The claw-like fingernails had receded. There was skin between her fingers when she spread them apart. She looked at her arm. Her soft protective pelt had coalesced into a rubbery, supple covering, almost a second skin. Water beaded on it even faster than it did on her pelt.

  What was happening to her?

  Chapter Four

  Corree woke with a gasp and sat up in the near darkness, feeling her hands, her ears and up and down her pelt-covered arms. She had been dreaming! It had only been a dream. Corree shuddered her relief and looked around her shelter.

  The little lights had congregated near the water’s edge and a person was sitting cross-legged in the water. Luminous eyes gazed at her. In the dark it was hard to determine if this was a male or female. He or she was silent.

  Corree saw no evidence of ears. “Can you hear me? Can you talk?”

  It raised a webbed hand and beckoned her closer. That was exactly what she had seen in her dream! She held her hands close to her face and examined them again. They had not changed. Despite the differences—the overly large eyes, no ears, and sleek rubbery skin—she knew this was one of the created people like her. Corree scooted closer to the edge of the pool. The little glow creatures seemed to edge closer too, adding more light in her part of the cave. She could see a smile on the sea person’s face.

  “Yes, I can hear very well.” The words were a bit stammering, as though they weren’t used much. “I can speak, too.” The smile grew broader. “Even though I usually don’t.”

  The voice told her he was male. “Oh,” was all Corree could think to say.

  “I am Lenden.”

  Corree remembered Lenden. He had been a prankster back in the large pod. She also had a crush on him. “I’m Corree.”

  “I know. I remember you. You were a bit different then.”

  She giggled. “So were you.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

  “To let you know what the creators want us to do.”

  “The creators? So you have had the dreams, too?”

  “Most of us in our group have.”

  “Me and Breeann and Tira are the only ones among us. I have always remembered.”

  Corree shook her head. “I haven’t,” she admitted. “Only in the past full moon cycle. Now I remember everything.”

  Lenden snorted. “So what do you think our creators want? As though I couldn’t guess.”

  She told him about the meeting with the hologram man.

  This time he shrugged. “I wonder what they would do if some of us…well, some of us chose not to follow their directive?”

  Corree really hadn’t thought of that. She had only assumed they could not do much of anything since regular humans couldn’t survive on Mendel. She said as much.

  “They could send drones,” he suggested.

  “Drones?” Evidently she didn’t remember everything.

  “Robots.”

  A picture of them entered Corree’s mind, then more memories. “If they could survive down here, why send us?”

  “Good question.” His webbed hands stroked the surface as he considered. “I’m not sure, but even as difficult as it has been for us here, I will not take anything from the oceans for soft humans to use on other planets!” The words rang with heated conviction. “This is our world now.”

  Corree understood. She remembered her indignation during the “teaching.”

  “Would you be willing to come to our home and relate what you have learned? There is little we can do to pass along your message, but we will know.” Again he paused. “And knowing is everything.”

  “You could at least tell the other sea people,” Corree pointed out.

  “Our group is all that remains of the five pods that landed in the oceans.”

  “What?!”

  “There are nine of us now.”

  Corree did the math. “Nine out of forty? What happened?”

  “The oceans are very treacherous with many dangerous creatures.”

  “But, but…” she sputtered.

  “How many did you lose?”

  “One. It was at the beginning.” Corree wondered why the old ones; the scientists would have sent some of them to such dangerous places. The forest had its share of predators, but certainly nothing as bad as what Lenden had dealt with.

  As though reading her mind, he explained, “I would like to think someone was stupid, didn’t research well enough, or really wasn’t worried that some habitats would be more dangerous than others.”

  She remembered the briefings before they came to Mendel. No one mentioned any particular dangers.

  “But I susp
ect they wanted to experiment for their own purposes,” he added sourly.

  Corree didn’t say anything.

  “Come,” he said when the silence became uncomfortable.

  Corree gazed at the dark waters. Despite the dancing light creatures, the pool looked ominous; ready to swallow her up. “How do you all live underwater?”

  He smiled. “We can as long as we have an air supply nearby. We have a place of safety like this only bigger.”

  “Is it far?” Corree was dismayed to hear trembling in her voice. She had to get a grip on herself.

  “It’s not too far for you to hold your breath. I’ll lead you.”

  She couldn’t back down now. Swallowing nervously, Corree edged to the side of the pool. Lenden held out his hand. Soft light showed through the webbing. Tiny veins pulsed. Corree took his hand and found it to be warm. What did you expect? Corree berated herself.

  And smooth. He tugged gently and she walked into the dark water. It stung briefly at her ankles and then she was in. The water was cool, but it wrapped around her like a tarpa leaf blanket. Corree wondered about that. Tarpa leaves, when woven together, kept the heavy rains from soaking through their pelts. Despite the acidic quality of all the waters on Mendel, right now the water in this pool felt cushiony.

  “Take several deep breaths, letting all the air out in between. Then take a last breath and hold it. Nod when you’re ready.”

  “You won’t let go?”

  “Of course not!”

  Corree did as she had been instructed and they were in darkness. Then the little light creatures gathered ahead of them, lighting their way. Lenden’s hold was reassuring; the strength of his fingers equally reassuring. Corree was conscious of her lungs protesting. They wanted her to open her mouth and give them fresh air. She forced the urge down. They became more insistent and Corree’s brain sounded an alarm. Her chest hurt as Lenden continued swimming, pulling her deeper and deeper. Just when she was about to pull away from Lenden, her head popped above the surface.