The Genesis Glitch

by Stewart Ferris

  ‘Again, it would appear to be so.’

  ‘So that’s all. I want to experience the fame thing again, and I want it to last this time. But I can’t sing. I can’t write. Can’t remember lines and don’t wanna run for office. I got a degree in pure mathematics from Texas State University, and no one thinks that’s worth a dime. All I got is this.’

  She ran her hands down her body.

  ‘And a fine example of Texan craftsmanship it is, too,’ said Ratty.

  ‘I’m gonna use my body to get the celebrity status back. And that’s where I need your help.’

  ‘Jolly good. In what manner might I be able to assist?’

  ‘I wanna get pregnant.’

  ***

  ‘Benzodiazepine?’ asked the Patient before he had even opened his eyes.

  ‘So I am told,’ came the reply. ‘Not especially original, but it worked. Welcome. I’m Heinz. Ship’s doctor.’

  The Patient stretched his arms and rubbed his face. The room was swaying. He felt sick. But he knew his nausea was not a side-effect of the sleeping pills.

  ‘It would appear that I have been unconscious for about eight hours,’ he announced, studying Heinz’s features. The man wore a white laboratory coat with biros peeping from a breast pocket and on his head was cap emblazoned with ‘ESA’.

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘The angle of the sunlight through the porthole would suggest about fifteen hundred hours, local time. The size of this vessel, judging by the generous proportions of this cabin, would necessitate a displacement hull and therefore a maximum speed of about fifteen knots. The relative fluidity of our current motion means the cruising speed is less than that, probably only ten knots, and that – assuming I have not made a second journey by air – puts us geographically within an arc of eighty miles from where I landed in Yangon. I’d say we are still in the Bay of Martaban.’

  ‘All that from the angle of the sun? Impressive.’

  ‘And the eight-hour duration can be confirmed by the pressure in my bladder. Not to mention the clock just behind you.’

  Heinz laughed.

  ‘We didn’t have a spare cabin. The crew reorganised my medical bay to make room for you – that’s why it seems so spacious in here. Luckily I have no patients. If you want to freshen up, the bathroom is that door behind you. The other door is our intensive care unit – it’s a sterile room, so please don’t go in there.’

  ‘Is that where you intend to reanimate Halford if you find him?’

  ‘Correct. It is all set up with life support and a seawater supply for the genesis procedure.’

  ‘Life support?’

  ‘In case there are complications. And as a last resort we have synthesised the embalming compound. If the reanimation goes badly wrong we have the option to preserve Halford one more time until we work out how to solve whatever the problem might be. So please don’t touch anything there. I have to go. Wait here. Monica will be along soon.’

  ‘Monica?’

  ‘Yes,’ Heinz replied. ‘I understand she’s your sister.’

  ***

  Even the pale light of winter was more than her eyes could handle. A day locked in the steel shipping container without any kind of illumination had caused a degree of pupil dilation that would take several minutes to undo. She shielded her face as someone guided her out of the container, leading her through air that was bitter and across gravel that crunched deafeningly to her sensitized ears. She tried to see through a crack between her fingers, but the discomfort was too intense. Tired and disoriented, there was nothing she could do to resist.

  The gravel gave way to steps. Low, made of stone. With the guide on her arm she ascended. The air was warm now, footsteps echoed. She was in a building, walking down a corridor. The light was less harsh. She tried again to see, blinking and half-shielding her face, attempting to assess the dimensions and details of the austere prison in which she was no doubt being held. The echoes broadened and dulled. There was something soft underfoot. She uncovered her eyes and squinted painfully at the floor. A luxurious crimson and navy oriental rug. Beside her stood a brass and marble coffee table. A pair of Louis XV sofas faced each other on either side of the table. She looked around. Saffron-yellow panelled walls trimmed with gold leaf. Sets of antlers and a Claude Monet painting. An ostentatious chandelier glittered high above her head.

  The arm that had guided her now released its respectful hold. A man stepped in front of her.

  She recognised him. And the recognition gave her no comfort.

  ‘Take a seat, Ruby,’ said Philipe Eyzies, pushing back his long, black hair. ‘Welcome to Château de Chambord. And may I wish you a joyeux noël? It’s good to see you again.’

  Ruby sat opposite the precocious atomic scientist and glared at him. It hadn’t been good to see him the previous time, and she saw no reason to change her opinion on this occasion, despite it being the season of goodwill.

  ‘You made it out of Guatemala in one piece, then,’ she said, wondering if, with his impeccable English, he would detect the note of disappointment in her voice.

  ‘We were out of there before things became, how should I put it, explosive. Fortunately, the most valuable Mayan artefacts were shipped here before your destructive friends arrived.’

  ‘They were not my friends.’

  ‘Of course, I used the plural incorrectly. One of those soldiers was your friend, correct? We put a copy of his book in your shipping container. We thought it would amuse you.’

  ‘Hardly. And with no light, that’s about as amusing as an evening with Jean-Paul Sartre.’

  ‘Ruby, I know we have not treated you with the respect you deserve. But you must understand that we are at an extraordinary moment in history. The normal conventions of politesse are luxuries we cannot afford.’

  ‘But a shipping container? Seriously? Just to get me to France? I was going to drive through France anyway. You only had to ask me to stop by on the way to Spain.’

  ‘I think you lack an appreciation of the global situation, Ruby. Your skills are wanted by many agencies, not all of them as friendly as ours. Those men in your car were there to protect you, not to hurt you. They worked with your local police officer to ensure you reached us safely and, for your own protection, secretly. You are valuable to us because you were most useful to the French government in our recent joint venture with Guatemala. You helped us to excavate and study artefacts that have advanced our understanding of the possibilities and practicalities of cold fusion power and propulsion, and—’

  ‘What’s your point, Philipe?’

  ‘You were forced to do that work, weren’t you? The Guatemalans put you on our research project, and you played your part under duress. But you didn’t run away when you had the chance. You knew how important our work was. You understood the bigger picture, Ruby.’

  She gazed around the lavish room. There were some pretty big pictures here. Her previous enslavement had been in an austere hangar in a remote rainforest. The grandeur of this chateau might at least put sugar on the bitter pill.

  ‘OK,’ said Ruby, ‘and what’s the big picture today?’

  ‘It’s the same,’ he replied. ‘The scrolls you found forewarned us of the return of the ancient Mayan despot, Halford.’

  ‘So what? He didn’t show up.’

  ‘Ruby, Halford is here.’

  ‘What? Here in this chateau?’

  ‘I mean here on this planet. He has returned.’

  ‘Who’s got him?’

  ‘No one, yet.’

  ‘So how do you know? Is it the Myanmar meteor?’

  Philipe nodded.

  ‘Many groups are looking for him. But we will get there first. Our French agents are the finest and most highly trained in the world.’

  ‘Would they be the same fine agents who bravely sank a Greenpeace ship while it was docked in the harbour of a friendly nation?’

  ‘Ruby, that was a long time ago.’

  ‘Well,
that’s all really fascinating. I think I’ll go now. You can give me a call if you find Halford. It would be interesting to see his face after reading so much about him. I feel as if I already know him. But I would never work with such a monster. I know what he did to our planet. So you can count me out of any translation service, Philipe.’

  She stood up, knowing perfectly well that Philipe would not permit her to leave. She couldn’t see evidence of anyone guarding her, but she was certain a chateau of this magnitude would have security, surveillance systems and a team poised to stymie any unauthorised attempt at departure. Philipe gestured that she ought to return to her seat, but she walked around the room, picking up and examining priceless statuettes and lamps and urns. Philipe bit his lip and tried not to concern himself with the consequences of breakages. The French state would not look kindly on him.

  ‘Please, Ruby, I’m trying to explain to you the importance of this opportunity. You already secured your place in history with the discovery of the Sphinx Scrolls. How many people ever get a second chance of greatness? That is what you will have, my friend.’

  Friend? Ruby looked at him. He never used a word like that when they worked together in Guatemala. He must really need her this time.

  ‘Go on,’ she told him, sensing the balance of power tilting gently in her direction.

  ‘When my country’s agents find Halford, they will bring him here, to the Loire. We have a science facility in this chateau that will enable us to supervise the genesis procedure. It is equipped with the most advanced resuscitation and life-support equipment available.’

  ‘Seawater,’ said Ruby. ‘You know the recipe for flushing out the Mayan embalming compounds and reversing the body’s stasis is plain seawater?’

  ‘Of course we know that. The seawater requirement was written in the scrolls. But how can we be certain that’s all there is to it? We need to have technology on our side in case there are complications. Anyway, once Halford’s heart is beating we will keep him in secure isolation to protect him and us from any viruses to which immunity has lapsed on our part or has yet to develop on his. At this time, we will begin to communicate with him. And that is why we need you. Your knowledge of his lost language is vital to our project.’

  ‘No, I refuse.’

  ‘Please, Ruby, don’t make a hasty decision.’

  ‘Out of interest, and assuming your highly competent agents don’t manage to dynamite him by accident, what would you in theory like me to discuss with the world’s oldest man?’

  ‘We know from the scrolls that he worked in the technology sector before he became a revolutionary and took over the Mayan state. Halford was a nuclear technician. There are gaps in our understanding of how to harness the cold nuclear fusion systems with which he worked. The artefacts from his era taught us a great deal, but they are damaged and decayed. The studies we began in Guatemala were incomplete. We need Halford. Without his knowledge, our work is worthless.’

  Ruby picked up a vase and turned it over, examining the base closely.

  ‘Worthless?’ she asked. ‘Like this vase?’

  ‘Ruby! That’s not worthless. They told me it’s a sixteenth century—’

  There was no point in continuing his sentence, as it was now a sixteenth-century pile of fragments on the parquetry.

  ‘This chateau and everything in it is the property of the French state, Ruby. Do you have any idea how much bureaucracy you just caused, not to mention the destruction of a piece of history?’

  ‘Relax, Philipe. Whatever they told you is a lie. That was a 1974 reproduction. Interesting that they thought it necessary to lie to you about that, though. I wonder what else your government is keeping from you?’

  ‘Come on, Ruby, please co-operate. If you help us, you can make yourself at home in this wonderful palace, living in splendour until Halford arrives. Just behave while you’re here. That’s all we ask of you.’

  ‘I won’t do it.’

  ‘Please, Ruby. This is archaeology come to life. The stuff of dreams for you.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of being treated like a commodity,’ she said, gazing at the immaculate lawns beyond the tall windows. ‘Everyone wants to use me, they trick me, force me, kidnap me. This is no way to treat anyone. I’ve got to retain some principles. Of course I’d like to have a chance to speak to someone who lived twelve millennia ago. I have thousands of questions I’d like to ask him. The information he could supply would give me material for enough academic papers to fill the rest of my career. But not at any price. Not someone as evil as Halford, and also not when your government treats me like this. I won’t co-operate if I’m being forced. So let me go.’

  ‘OK, Ruby.’

  She turned to face Philipe.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said OK. You win. I apologise.’

  ‘You’re saying I can go?’

  ‘If that is what you wish, you are free to leave. You will be compensated for your time and distress and inconvenience. We have already summoned a representative from the British consulate in Paris to take care of your documentation. You will find a replacement passport in your room. The staff here at the chateau will see to your clothing and travel needs.’

  ‘Right. I suppose that will be fine. I appreciate that, Philipe.’

  ‘It really was good to see you again, Ruby.’

  ‘It was, yes, you too.’ She struggled to make sense of the situation. Philipe’s people had gone to extraordinary lengths to bring her here, and now they were prepared to let her go? Whether or not she could believe him, she came to a conclusion.

  She wanted to stay.

  ***

  Monica embraced the Patient in a moment of uncharacteristic tactility. Her brother clumsily wrapped his arms around her in reciprocation, but both siblings were relieved when this awkwardness ended and a clear space was restored between their bodies.

  ‘I have been looking forward to this,’ Monica told him. ‘Ever since I discovered last year that we had the same father.’

  Her Bavarian accent was strong, but not unfamiliar to the Patient.

  ‘Are you sure you harbour no grudge against me?’ asked the Patient, signalling for her to sit in the upright chair beneath the porthole while he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

  ‘Of course not. You did what you had to do. Sounds like the man was a monster.’

  ‘Is.’

  ‘True. I guess you didn’t really kill him, despite everything he did to you.’

  ‘I would like to tell you that one day you may get to meet him. I followed the preservation procedures correctly, so there is a good chance that Otto could be reanimated, although to survive more than a few hours would require sourcing and transplanting a replacement liver right after the genesis procedure. But Tikal was in chaos after the Americans detonated the pyramids. Many things were destroyed or removed. Our attention was fully directed to the discovery and excavation of the scrolls. I have no knowledge of the destination or condition of Otto’s sarcophagus subsequent to my departure. Besides, I would not recommend an encounter with him. Our father did nothing to ameliorate the reputation of the Mengele name.’

  ‘Speaking of names, do you have one yet?’

  ‘I am the Patient. It is easy to remember, and it is printed in my passport.’

  She smiled. Hers would always be a strange family.

  ‘How appropriate that we should accommodate you in our medical facility?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘I need to bring you up to speed with what’s been happening since I tracked the arrival of Halford’s pod,’ she told him. ‘So, you know I work at the European Space Agency tracking station. When I detected the pod approaching the earth, I phoned your twin.’

  ‘Orlando had an obsessive interest in the matter of Halford. But that was fuelled by the influence of Otto. After I took our father’s liver to save Orlando’s life, Orlando became a different person.’

  ‘He suggested that I call you
in England. He thought you ought to know, too. ESA kept Halford’s approach under wraps for three days. Even NASA didn’t see the pod until hours before it hit the sea yesterday. We had a head start on the rest of the world, but scanning the seabed takes time. Look out there now. We’re surrounded by dozens of ships. Half the world wants to exploit Halford. ESA and NASA want the remains of the pod for what we can learn about the technology of the ancients. We all want Halford, too, of course. If his brain is able to retain its functionality and memories, we have so much to learn from him.’

  ‘And why the need to drug me?’

  ‘Beyond our control, unfortunately. There’s a lot of criminal activity fuelled by the prospect of being the first to find Halford. The mafia hijacked your flight to Myanmar.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘During the refuelling stop. I heard they locked up your replacement pilots and planted their own people on the flight deck. Then they held an Internet auction during the latter part of the flight. They needed to prevent you being able to recall the people and vehicles involved between the airport and your destinations. But we had to have you. Paid an absolute fortune – might have to sell an Ariane or two to balance the books – but we have you now.’

  ‘And where is Lord Ballashiels?’

  ‘Couldn’t afford your friend. Someone else bought him.’

  ‘Most distressing. Is there anything we can do to find him?’

  ‘Not until the excitement around Halford blows over.’

  ‘So your space agency purchased me as an interpreter for Halford?’

  ‘We didn’t buy you. We bought your freedom. You’re safe.’

  ‘And do you know the fate of Ruby?’

  ‘Ruby Towers?’

  ‘She is the only person more qualified than me to communicate with Halford. We travelled to this region to find her.’

  ‘She wasn’t part of the auction. No one has heard anything about her.’

  ‘Monica, I need a laptop with a satellite Internet connection. And I need some information. I need to know who masterminded the auction.’