Genetic Apocalypse
Hannah
Boyd Craven Jr.
The characters and circumstances in this story are a product of the author’s imagination, and represent no real person, living or dead. Any real public places or names are used only to build atmosphere for the reader’s mind.
Copyright © 2015
Boyd Craven, Jr.
All Rights Reserved
No part of this story may be reproduced in any way without the prior written consent of the author.
The suggested reading order for the Genetic Apocalypse saga starts with Adam, then goes to Adrian. The two brothers each get a series of short-read stories. The Homesteaders series will follow Adam’s life in Michigan, The Tribe series will follow Adrian’s life in Florida.
The back-story of what happened in the world ten years earlier to get us to this point is in The Rise of Walsanto. Read that at any time. Then, to follow how the world fares after the first hybrid is born, and for the 10 years before the Adam story takes place, read Hannah, followed by The Guardians series.
1
Hannah:
Wednesday, June 16, 2021
The caller-id says Rusty Whitman. “Hel-lo, this is Hannah!” I answer, in my best cheery voice.
“Hannah, I have news,” he says, in a loud, excited whisper. “I just got a call from the President…”
As I listen to him tell me about the call, I have a couple of emotions going on at the same time. I’m a little bit excited that I was right in my prediction that gray/green births would begin happening to humans everywhere very soon, but I’m a lot freaked out that it is coming true, because well, that’s just horrible!
Apparently a Doctor Cho, from Genesys Regional Medical Center in Grand Blanc, Michigan has followed the direction recently provided by the CDC, and quietly reported to them the birth of a healthy male child on 6/15/2021 with gray/green skin, bright green eyes, the absence of hair follicles, with no finger prints.
“So like, what are they doing with that information? Are the peeps at the CDC losing their minds over it?” I ask.
“It seems that they did a good job of putting the directive out there to report anything like this, but that’s as far as they went. Since nobody in their organization believed that this could really happen, they didn’t develop any kind of action plan for when and if they ever did get a call. The President is pissed, and he called me to see what my plan is. My plan of course, is you Hannah. I need for you to head up to Michigan and observe this phenomenon for yourself. Can you do that for me?” he asks.
“Oh thank-you, thank-you, thank-you Rusty! You know how to make a geeky-girl happy! Oh, I’m so excited! I have so many things to do. I have to decide what I’ll need to take. I suppose I’ll have to dress business professional, instead of my usual. I want to make the right impression when I show up. Oh! When should I go?” I asked, as fast as I could spit the words out.
“Dr. Cho wants a couple of days for his own people to test everything that they can think of. How’s about we fly you up there Friday afternoon? You can get a car, get settled in your room, and go to the hospital Saturday morning and spend the whole day there. Their people will be out of the way for the weekend that way.
“Cho’s thinking that he will release the mother on Sunday if there’s no reason not to. He says that they still have a ton of tests to do on the baby though. I’m pretty sure that they got caught by surprise, and have no idea what tests they need to be doing. At least they’ve done a good job of keeping this out of the news. We haven’t heard a peep so far, and the President would like it to remain that way.
“Hannah, is this going to be safe for you to do? I mean, how much danger is there of this spreading from one person to another? The goons over at the CDC insist that there’s no worry, because this is genetic, not viral, but I don’t know.”
“Well Rusty, I can’t answer that with any degree of certainty. I do believe that there’s a pretty good chance that viable GG-Factor cells could migrate from one being to another through bodily fluids, just like I‘ve always said. Other than satisfying my own curiosity, that’s one of the reasons that my going there right away makes sense. I’ll go prepared to find that out, and I’ll take all of the necessary precautions. CDC or no CDC, I think we need to quarantine mother and child right away. All that I think needs done, is to put mother and child in a room together and limit physical contact by anyone else as much as possible. Gloves and face shield. Just let the mother care for him. She won’t get any more exposed than she did by carrying him inside her.”
“That makes sense,” Rusty agrees. “Hey, how’s about you call Cho yourself and set things up? I have his personal cell phone number right here. Want to?” he asks.
“Sure. That’s probably the best thing for me to do, instead of relaying messages and missing something,” I say.
“Ok. Let me know as you find anything out. Just use that credit card I gave you for anything you need. Uncle Sam foots the bill for that one. Meanwhile, I’ll get your flight to Flint Bishop Airport arranged. You can pick your car up there. Go ahead and pick where you want to stay and arrange that yourself on that card. I’ll just get a one-way ticket there, so you can come back whenever you want.”
“Thanks Rusty. See ya!”
I clap my hands, giggle like a school-girl, and take off in search of Dr. Greene. I find him right where I expect. In his office, with the door closed, and the classical piano music on.
“Dr. Greene, Dr. Greene! You’re never gonna believe what’s happened,” I blurt out, as I burst into his office, and then close the door behind me.
“Well, hello Hannah. My, but don’t you look excited! What can I do for you dear child?” he asks.
I repeat the whole conversation with Rusty to him. He listens carefully to every word. That’s one of the biggest things I love about him; he’s such a good listener. He leans back in his chair thoughtfully for a few seconds, maybe a minute before he says anything. That’s something that I’m very used to. I mean, I couldn’t do that. I always have to go a hundred miles an hour. I can’t help it. Dr. Greene has style; he’s very precise and very predictable in his behavior. He’s also one of the few people that seem to truly to understand me.
“That is indeed incredible, but very serious news Hannah! Once again my dear, you were right about this. I do tend to agree with your assumption that the biggest danger of contamination will come from bodily fluids, but I would advise testing everything that comes to mind while you have the chance. Saliva, blood, sinus fluids, urine, fecal matter, and tears at the very least. Assume nothing. Do swab tests on his skin, pretty much every part of his little body if you can. Then, his clothing, his bedding, the mattress underneath it all. Have his clothes and bedding washed with clean samples of the same, and see if it survives the laundry. Uncommon things like that. If you can befriend his mother, swab test her the same way. Get blood samples if possible. Turn on the charm. Make her want you to help her and her child learn things about this. That’s the best advice I can think of at the moment. If I come up with other ideas, I’ll be sure to communicate them to you,” he says.
“Thanks, Dr. Greene! So, I have your support in this?”
“Most certainly dear girl, as always,” he answered, with a smile.
Back at my desk in the lab, I psyche myself up to call Dr. Cho. Cold calling someone had always been a hard thing for me to do. To my surprise, the call doesn’t go to voice-mail. He answers it.
“Hello? Cho here.”
“Hello Dr. Cho, this is Hannah Withers calling from Clemson University…”
“Ah yes! Miss forensic geneticist?”
“That’s me. I heard th
e news and have been told that you are expecting a visit from me. Is this true?”
“Yes, yes, very good. When will you come?”
“How does Saturday morning work for you?” I ask.
“Very good. 9:00 a.m. is a good time. Ok?”
“That works fine for me, sir. See you then,” I say. Yippee!
2
Hannah:
Saturday morning, June 19, 2021
Genesys Regional Medical Center
“Miss Withers? Hello, I’m Dr. Cho. Very nice to meet you!” he says, with a very slight bow. “Please, come with me.”
I’d been sitting for less than a minute after checking in with his receptionist, so he must’ve been waiting for me. I follow him through the door out of the waiting room, down a hall past a few exam rooms, and into his office, where he closes the door.
“Please, sit down.” He motioned to a set of comfortable looking upholstered chairs on one side of a serving table. He waits until I am seated, with my back to the door, then he sits in one just like mine, on the other side. His desk is behind him. It’s a clean, modern looking glass table with a laptop on it, and not much else. Everything else in here is white too, and sparkly clean looking. I like it. There are large LCD monitors on the wall to my right. This is much different than Dr. Greene’s office.
“Before we go see the patient, I would very much like for you and I to exchange knowledge about this… event please?” he asks.
“Thank-you for having me, Dr. Cho. I would like nothing better. How shall we begin?” I ask. I am extremely nervous. I hope it isn’t showing too much.
“Please, if you could tell me what you know about how this came to be? I presume that you know something, since you are cooperating with the Federal Government?”
“I do, actually, I’ll be glad to tell you everything that I can on the matter.” I’d been coached extensively by Rusty on what I can and can’t say. I had been adamant about not lying to anyone, but I had promised him that I’d word things like I just did, to avoid doing so. Still, wordsmithing is not one of my strong points. It always makes me ‘as nervous as a cat,’ as they say.
“My team and I have taken this anomaly apart down to the genetic level. I’m sure that you’ve seen the green featherless chickens on TV? Well, we have studied them. A lot. What we discovered, was that in every case, cells taken from the chicken’s body contain genes from both a certain strain of algae, and a certain strain of bamboo. So, the chicken is physically part plant, part bird.” I pause ever so slightly to let him absorb this.
“But, how can this be?” he asks. “This does not happen. It is preposterous.”
‘What the heck? ‘
“I know it’s hard to get your head around, but we have discovered evidence that suggests that a plant virus that carries these genes is responsible. Something that they eat or come in contact with, allows this plant virus to enter them. That’s when the incredibleness happens. Like instant evolution. Somehow, these uninuclear cells fuse with other uninuclear cells in the host, and create multinuclear cells, known as syncytium, or hybrid cells. Those then travel around the chicken’s body, multiplying very rapidly, and manifest themselves first as skin cells. Thus, the gray/green color of the skin. These green skin cells begin clearing the way for sunlight to reach them, so they can begin performing a rudimentary kind of photosynthesis. In other words, they make the chicken’s feathers begin to fall out, cause the feather follicles to disappear and the skin to smooth out. The whole chicken grows larger, because of the rate of cell multiplication. More evolution. Before that hen’s body becomes too involved percentage-wise with these hybrid cells, the eggs it lays will produce those completely featherless, green chickens that you saw on TV. After its body becomes highly involved, the eggs it lays will never hatch.
“When pigs eat these eggs that won’t hatch, and the viscera and green skin of the green hens that laid them in tests, the hybrid cells migrate from those to the pig’s body. The pig will then begin to lose its hair, and its skin will begin to change in the same way, to that gray/green color. Before a sow is very far involved, if she is impregnated, she will throw green, hairless piglets with bright green eyes. When her milk is tested, it will contain these same hybrid cells.
“It has always been my theory that this virus would make it to humans, and then to human births, if women are impregnated before they become very involved percentage-wise with these hybrid cells, the same as with the pigs. After all, we eat chickens and pigs, we eat eggs, and we drink milk. Why wouldn’t it?” I explain.
“Ridiculous!” he says. “Not possible.”
‘Well, kiss my butt, Cho!’ I thought.
The good doctor has thoroughly pissed me off at this point, but I hold my temper. For once. I am kind of proud of myself, but suddenly decide that that’s all I know on the matter at this point. Jerk! I despise people that look down upon other people. Especially when the ‘other people’ is me! I make no comment to his rudeness other than to clear my throat once and ask, “Shall we get on with it then?”
“This way,” he says, snottily.
I can tell that he thinks that I am some kind of whack-job nut-case, but I am here at the pleasure of the President of the United States, so he doesn’t dare to refuse me at this point. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure he’d boot me. I follow him to the elevator, then up to a patient room, where he introduces me.
“This is Miss Withers, the geneticist I told you about,” he says curtly. Then he simply turns and walks away.
“Hi, I’m Cathy Edan,” says the woman sitting by the window, in the sunshine, nursing her baby. “Will it bother you if I let him finish? He likes the sunshine.”
“No! Of course not.” I take a chair and slide it in front of her, so she doesn’t have to move, and I sit down. “I’m Hannah Withers. Just call me Hannah, please.”
“Looks like Dr. Cho isn’t very happy with you either,” she says. “He’s a grump. He insists that it’s too dangerous for me to let Scott breast feed. He says that I should limit my physical contact with him until more is learned. I figure that pretty much, he can kiss my ass…”
I giggle at that. I can’t help it. “You can’t possibly have any more physical contact with him than you did while you were carrying him inside you,” I say. I giggle again. That makes Cathy smile. The ice is broken. I’m pretty sure that I’ll get along with this woman, so I quickly relax.
“What’s his beef with you?” she asks.
“Oh, he asked me what I know about Scott’s condition. I explained the research that my team and I have done at Clemson, and our findings, briefly. He got his nose all up in the air and said it was impossible. I find it very odd that any doctor would guffaw at scientific evidence of anything, but whatever. He did though. Boy did he ever!”
“So, you know what’s wrong with Scott then?”
“Well, I’m not sure that there’s anything wrong with him, he’s just different than we’re used to. Different than anyone is used to, yet,” I tell her.
“So, there are more children like this?” she asks.
“Nope. I’m pretty sure Scott here is the first, but there will be more. Lots and lots more.” As I say that, she removes Scott from her breast and turns him around to face me. I am totally blown away. My mind was expecting something hideous looking, like those damned green chickens. Little Scott is beautiful! Granted, his skin is quite green. It’s sort of a semi-translucent green, with gray tones beneath. He is as smooth as a porcelain doll, with no wrinkles anywhere, even when he bends his tiny arms. His eyes are the next thing that jumps out at me. The irises are unlike any color I’ve ever seen on a person, or an animal, for that matter. They are like fluorescent green. The pupils are normal and black, the sclera, or white part is normal too. I felt like they were drawing me right into them! “Oh, he’s beautiful,” I tell Cathy. Another giggle escapes me, and I make up some goofy baby-talk voice, and say, “Hi” to him. Cathy instantly relaxes and smiles, and then she does what most n
ew moms do.
“You wanna hold him?” she asks, holding him out to me.
“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t right now,” I say. “Let me explain some things to you, so you don’t think I’m a rude dog, ok?”
“Ok,” she says, rather timidly, as she cuddles Scott back to her body. “So, is this like them chickens on TV like everyone here is whispering about? We can hear them. They act like we can’t.”
“Yep. You got it. Let me explain…” I told her everything that I had just told Dr. Cho. In fact, I told Cathy everything that I know, and everything that I suspect, except for where the plant virus originated. Then we just sit quietly. I wait for her to speak first, so she has all the time she needs to absorb what I had just told her.
“So, is there a cure?” she asks. “My skin is starting to turn a little bit gray, and every time I brush my hair I get a brush full. Am I turning into what Scott is too?”
“Mmm… I wish I had a good, straight answer for you, but unfortunately I don’t,” I have to admit. “My team and I are working on a reversal process for people who are minimally affected, but with animals and birds at least, once a female gives birth to a hybrid, she is extremely affected and already to that point of sterility that I told you about. For Scott? He’s 100% affected. Scott is a hybrid. There’s just no changing that. Not even if we want to. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, but he’s the first of an evolutionary leap for mankind in some direction.”
Cathy just sits there thinking for a moment. The way she does it reminds me of Dr. Greene. He does that. “So now you know why I couldn’t hold Scott bare handed and unprotected. There’s just too much about this, that we don’t know yet. What I was hoping for, in coming here to meet you, is that you’ll let me get to know your family, and your habits. That you’ll let me test all of you, and everything in your environment, so we can learn. Would you allow me to do that, please?” I ask.
HANNAH (GENETIC APOCALYPSE Book 4) Page 1