The Wayfarer King

by K. C. May

  “Well, I have an announcement. I’ve quit my job in Boston and moved back to Phoenix.”

  Evie gaped at her, then broke into a big smile. “Really? Oh, wow. That’s knocked up.”

  Katie laughed. “Knocked up? As in pregnant?”

  Ryder said, “Around here, pregnant is good. Dope. Fly. Cool. It’s knocked up.”

  Evie nodded enthusiastically. “So you can visit us on the weekends.”

  “Better than that,” Katie said. “When my dad told me Dr. Wong retired and Dr. Hamilton was the new executive VP, I called her and begged for a job. I’m working here now. I’ll be able to see you every day.”

  Now Evie squealed. “Daddy, did you hear that?”

  Ryder smiled patiently. “Yep, every word. Awesome.” He had to admit he was excited about her being back for good.

  “You mean knocked up?” Katie asked, grinning.

  Ryder and Evie laughed.

  The nurse came into the doorway. “Hello, Ryder. Didn’t hear you come in. I’ll be back in a bit with your lunch tray, Evie.”

  “Get some coffee for yourself while you’re there, huh?” he called after her.

  Evie chattered for a minute about things they could do together, the meals they could share, the long talks.

  All the while, he watched Katie in silence. He was also thinking about things they could do together but doubted she would want to hear what he had in mind. She was here for work. That was all. Sometime between their secretive lovemaking as teenagers and her fancy degree in genetic engineering, she’d forgotten the promise they’d made to each other. He had to remind himself she wasn’t his friend any longer. She was Dr. Marsh.

  “Are you planning to do experiments on my daughter?”

  Katie startled. “No, Ryder, but Evie is the only sapher ever to get this far into a pregnancy. As the Center’s new reproductive scientist, it’s my job to discover what’s different about her physiology and use that information to help the other females.”

  “Reproductive scientist, eh? Does that mean you’re going to be telling me who I can screw?”

  “Eww, Dad!”

  Katie blushed. “Determining the best genetic matches isn’t my area of expertise. I’ll be trying to solve problems in the womb.”

  “Like a gynecologist or obstetrician?”

  “Not quite. I’m more of a troubleshooter. When things go wrong, I advise physicians on exploratory treatments using gene and cell therapies and pharmaceuticals. Together, we sort of renovate the womb to fix problems as they arise.”

  “Your job is to keep Evie pregnant until she delivers?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  A thought occurred to him then. Katie could make sure his grandchild survived if she removed the embryo from Evie’s womb and implanted it in her own. He didn’t understand the science part, but it should work. After all, the Center had paid her well to be Evie’s gestational carrier. The money had covered her college tuition.

  Ryder didn’t want to bring it up in front of Evie, but he’d talk to Katie about it later. If she really wanted to do her best, if she cared about Evie, she would do this.

  At the end of the day, Katie logged out of the Center’s computer network, grabbed her purse and locked her office door. As she walked to the elevator, she waved at the hallway camera eyeing her silently from the corner. If someone was watching, she wanted to make a pleasant impression on her first day.

  “Good night, Dr. Kate,” a male voice said through the intercom. “Will you be leaving through the basement door?”

  “No, I parked in the visitor’s lot today.”

  “I’ll send someone to let you out.”

  Pump had already left for the day. A guard, a thick-lipped, loud-breathing fellow with sleepy eyes, met her at the security portal and let her out the front door. The way he leered at her was like a clammy hand on the back of her neck. The news crew and all but a couple of protestors had gone. The two men were standing beside their vehicles, talking. Neither looked her way when she exited the building.

  Katie reached her car to find one of the tires completely flat. “Damn it,” she said under her breath. She should have moved her car as soon as she’d received the access card for the underground garage. A quick survey of the remaining tires gave her the good news: they were fine. At least she wouldn’t need a tow truck. Changing a tire in a suit and heels would surely ruin her clothes, if she could figure out how to do it.

  She started digging into her purse for her roadside assistance membership card. Hopefully, it was still valid.

  “Need some help?”

  Startled, Katie fumbled her purse, and her compact fell out. A redhead bent to pick it up. When he straightened, she saw he was a nice-looking fellow with a square jaw and mustache. “I’ve got nothing to say,” she said, taking her compact from his hand. The mirror inside was probably shattered.

  “Well then, let’s take a look at your tire.” He squatted in front of the front left tire and ran a finger over its black surface. “Looks like someone slit it.”

  Katie crossed her arms. It must have been him. “What a mean thing to do.”

  He looked up at her with mischievous green eyes. “It sure was. How’s your spare?”

  Why was he being so nice? He was one of those rabid protestors. “You don’t need to bother with that. I have roadside assistance.”

  He stood and dusted off his hands. “Yeah, but they’ll put you on hold for ten minutes, then take an hour to send someone out here. I could have it done before they even answer the phone.”

  He seemed nice enough. She shouldn’t have assumed he’d been the one who’d slit her tire. “That’s awfully kind of you to offer. I’ll give you a few dollars for your trouble.”

  He walked around to the trunk and motioned for her to unlock it. “No, don’t do that. I like being the gallant hero, saving damsels in distress. Taking your money would cheapen it for me.”

  Katie unlocked the trunk, and the man started to fish inside for the spare tire and jack as though they’d been friends for years. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or thankful. When she pictured herself squatting in her skirt and heels, fumbling with the jack and tire, she decided his take-charge attitude was just what she needed. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Mike,” he said, extending his hand.

  She shook it. “Katie.”

  He removed the spare and rolled it to the front of the car. “So were you just visiting the Center?”

  Crap. It figured he would broach the subject now that he had her captive. Maybe she would turn the tables on him and set a few of his misconceptions straight. “No, I’m an employee.”

  He looked up in surprise. “No kidding. Let me guess: you’re an executive of some kind. Maybe a lawyer?”

  Katie grinned. “What makes you say that?”

  Mike looked her up and down while he loosened the lug nuts. “Because you’re too pretty to be a scientist and too well-dressed to be clerical help. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “No, you’re not,” she said with a teasing lilt. “I happen to be a reproductive scientist.”

  He assessed her once more before returning to the lug nuts. “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been wrong about a woman.” He fiddled with the jack and began to pump the car’s weight up off the tire.

  She hated standing around not helping, but she didn’t know what else to do. Harmless conversation seemed like a reasonable alternative to getting in his way. “What do you do when you’re not saving damsels in distress or protesting outside my office?”

  Mike chuckled as he pulled off the flat tire and set it on the ground beside him. “Usually working or volunteering at the pet rescue league.”

  Katie gaped at him. “Really?” She didn’t often meet people who gave of themselves so readily.

  “When someone dies of Molio, a pet often becomes homeless. The first thing we do is get it spayed or neutered, then try to find a new home for it.” He
picked up the spare and lifted it onto the wheel.

  “That’s wonderful. Are you a veterinarian?”

  “No, computer systems technician at Incorp Electronics. If you’re a Center employee, why’d you park out here?”

  “Today was my first day, and I didn’t have a garage access key at the time. I was practically assaulted by your Freedom friends on my way to work, I’ll have you know.”

  To her surprise, Mike said, “I’m sorry. Although it’s a non-violent organization, I know some of them get a little crazy and in-your-face. I’m not one of them, don’t worry. I respect what you’re trying to accomplish, even if the means are questionable.”

  Katie had to admit this smart, good-looking philanthropist intrigued her. “Why do you support Freedom for All Peoples if you don’t oppose the Center’s work?”

  He froze for a moment and turned his head slowly to her. For an instant, a chill thickened the air between them. Then a smile warmed his face. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I believe the saphers deserve a life outside of that complex, living free in the world and choosing for themselves.” He picked up another lug nut and began to screw it on. “But I don’t think the research you’re doing there is unethical.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Believe me, every time someone dies and leaves a dog or cat homeless, I thank Henry Marsh for making the saphers in the first place. They’re our only hope against Molio, you know? A vaccine from their blood or something. It’s something to dream about, anyway.” He lowered the car onto the spare and began to tighten the lug nuts.

  “A vaccine wouldn’t work.”

  “I keep hearing that, but I don’t get it. Why not?”

  “Because of how moliovirus functions. Our immune system fights it just fine. The problem is that the virus releases lethal toxins when it dies. We don’t have a defense against them.”

  “Listen, Katie,” he said, standing. “I was on my way to grab some dinner. I’d love it if you’d join me.”

  She checked the time on the integrated chronometrical-cellular technology device — the inccet — on her wrist, trying to think of a reason to decline without being impolite.

  “You could think of it as repayment for the tire,” he said.

  Damn him. “Okay, sure. I’ll meet you somewhere and buy your dinner.”

  “No, no.” He put the flat tire and jack into her trunk and closed the lid. “I didn’t mean to suggest you should pick up the tab. I hoped you could explain the virus stuff to me. I wouldn’t let a lady pay for my meal. Call me old-fashioned.”

  Oh, please. She probably earned twice what he did. “Where to?”

  “How about Lucky’s Grill on Bell Road?”

  Her stomach growled, urging her to accept. “All right. Meet you there.”

  As she navigated the barren streets to the sports lounge to meet Mike, Katie scanned the empty husks of dead businesses: the pizza restaurant where she’d gotten her first job as a teenager, the gas station where she’d gassed up her scooter on the way to school, the Dairy Queen where she and her friends had gone to escape the hot summer days.

  Phoenix was such a different city now, thirteen years later, because of Molio. She passed a street where her first boyfriend had lived. He’d been only seventeen when he died. More than half her high school graduating class was dead now. The world population was down to three and a half billion, and most projections estimated Homo sapiens sapiens would be extinct by 2075. She saw this in the thousands of obituaries published every day, in the darkened, vacant homes on her street, in the boarded-up businesses littering the city, and in the faces of those who’d lost their loved ones to this disease.

  She parked in the restaurant’s sparse lot and went inside. Mike wasn’t there. She checked her inccet. If he didn’t show up in five minutes, she’d leave.

  The dim lights in the pub only added to the dreariness of the near-empty lounge. Several televisions suspended from the ceiling were tuned to a sports channel. Katie didn’t care for sports but found herself drawn to the cheering, the crowd, the fantasy that all was well with the world. The waitress, dressed up as a referee, hustled across the floor, carrying with her the smells of beer and burgers.

  A car pulled into the lot and powered down. A man got out and jogged to the door. Mike walked in and smiled when he met Katie’s eyes. “I was afraid you’d ditch me.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” she said with a grin.

  They took a seat in a quiet booth and ordered sandwiches and soda, making small talk about the Diamondbacks baseball game playing above them while they got settled.

  “Forgive my ignorance,” Mike said, resting his forearms on the table between them. “I didn’t pay much attention in science class, so I never understood Molio and how it works. I hope you don’t mind me bombarding you with questions. I haven’t met a real scientist since my high school chemistry teacher.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m not much of a teacher, but I’ll try.” She spent the next ten minutes explaining how viruses located receptive human cells, injected their DNA and used the cell’s own natural reproduction system to multiply and spread.

  Mike’s lip curled. “That’s nasty.”

  Katie nodded. “Viruses are scary little buggers but fascinating. Our bodies have a defense for this, though: our immune system. Human T-cells are designed to run around our bloodstream looking for invaders like the moliovirus. When they find the invaders, they destroy them.”

  “That’s where the toxins come in?”

  “Right. When moliovirus dies, it releases three toxins that attack our organs, including the skin, causing Moliomyositis.”

  “Yeah,” Mike said, “but it seems like we could use drugs to suppress the immune system and avoid getting Molio at all. I’d rather be blind than dead.”

  “When moliovirus is allowed to run rampant, it eventually heads to the lymph nodes where it mutates, causing a hematologic cancer, a cancer of the blood. Believe it or not, Molio is a less painful, more humane death.”

  “Oh, damn. I never knew that. So we really are doomed.”

  The waitress arrived with their sandwiches and refilled their drinks. “Holler if you need anything else,” she said before scurrying away.

  “Why don’t the saphers have this problem?”

  “We substituted reptilian DNA to remove the protein the moliovirus sticks to. Because saphers don’t have any cells with the target protein, the virus is practically inert. When the virus particle gets into their bloodstream, their immune system destroys it like ours does, but the toxins aren’t in great enough quantities to do any harm—”

  “Because the virus hasn’t been reproducing!” Mike said, slapping the table.

  “Exactly,” Katie said, pleased her student grasped the material.

  “Finally, I understand. You’re a great teacher, Katie. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “Thanks. I taught an undergraduate biology class while I was working on my master’s degree, but that was a while ago.”

  “So now we come to the big question. The one you knew I was going to ask.” He winked as he shoved a french fry into his mouth.

  Katie slumped in her seat. Here it comes. “All right, let’s get it over with.”

  “If the saphers can’t cure us, what good are they?”

  That wasn’t the question she was expecting. She cocked her head. Was that malice in his tone? “Homo sapiens sapiens is projected to be extinct in about fifty years. If there’s a sentient species remaining, one that could continue to work toward eradicating the virus, they could bring us back.”

  “Can they be gestational carriers for humans like humans are for them?”

  It was an excellent question. “We don’t know yet.” If the reason the females kept miscarrying was due to a defect in their reproduction system, the answer would be no, not until the problem was identified and fixed. Answering that question was part of her job.

  “Well, if they can, why would they? They’d hav
e the whole planet to themselves.”

  “That’s true,” she said, “but if no sentient species remained, then there’s absolutely no hope for us. Saphers could at least pick up where we left off, even if we never returned. Our existence wouldn’t simply be forgotten.”

  “If we’re not around to remember, who cares?”

  “Don’t you want to leave a legacy? Leave your thumbprint on the world?”

  Mike smiled a funny, private smile. “You say the saphers are a sentient species, but you keep them caged like animals.”

  The back of her neck prickled. “No, the Center provides a very pleasant living environment for them. It’s like a college campus with a dormitory, recreational facilities, administrative offices and classrooms. In fact, their education never stops because we have so much collective knowledge to impart before we hand them the keys, so to speak.”

  He took a bite and continued talking, covering his mouth with his fist. “Sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I think keeping them imprisoned is unjust, and I’m the kind of person who has to speak out against injustices.”

  “Perceived injustices,” Katie said.

  “All right, I’ll grant you that, but until I see for myself, I have to go by what I read, and what I’ve read is that saphers don’t want to be imprisoned.”

  “What you’ve read is propaganda distributed by Freedom for All Peoples. If you saw the saphers and talked to them, you’d know they’re happy at the Center.”

  “Say,” he said, eyeing her mischievously. “Could you arrange to give me a tour? I’d give anything to meet a sapher in person.”

  “I doubt it,” Katie said. “We’ve got rules and protocols to follow. We have to assure the saphers’ and the public’s safety above all else.”

  “You have some public relations issues with all the demonstrating and bad press you’ve been getting lately, right? Letting a Freedom volunteer in to see the facility and talk to saphers wouldn’t be a bad move. What if I went back to the leaders of Freedom and told them what I saw? Told them how the saphers live and whether they seem happy?” He leaned forward with bright, dancing eyes, clearly excited about this idea.