by R E Kearney
“You aren’t looking too good.” Zhou observes after she clambers down the slope to his side.
“Yes, well I’m not feeling too good, either.” Robert gasps, as he unbuttons his shirt searching for relief.
“What is this covering you are wearing? You look like a burnt sausage.”
Robert runs his fingers across his chest. “Shengwu designed and printed this to protect me from possible Aethon infection. Like she was my mother, she demanded that both Rita and I wear them before she would allow us to leave her facility.”
“Well, you’re not with Shengwu now, Robert, you’re with me. Have you been encased in this outfit the last two days?”
“Yes, but we were working in the Instituto de Neurobiologia lab in San Juan analyzing those Aethon victim genetic samples, so I wanted this extra infection protection.”
“Ok. I understand that, but you’re not there now. You’re in the middle of a rain forest with me…only me…and there’s no way I can haul you out of here if you collapse from a heat stroke. So, get rid of that suffocating cocoon.”
“Gladly. It’s strangling me like a starving boa constrictor. Shengwu promised me that her special nanotube cloth would breathe. Well, she is wrong. It’s not breathing…and neither am I…almost.”
“Well take a few minutes to recuperate Robert, but don’t linger. Our time is quickly disappearing. If we don’t discover something soon for little Peter and his mother, we’ll lose them. I’m afraid we’ll lose Shengwu too. She was mentally collapsing when I visited her last night and I think she is just physically exhausted, as well. She is not sleeping. She is not eating. She is either with Peter and Margarete or working at her workspace. If we can’t give her some positive news soon…well we just need to find something…and soon.”
Zhou does not stay with Robert. Nimble as a mountain goat, she scampers up the steep slope leaving him to care for himself. Alone, with relief, he happily peels off Shengwu’s second skin. Resting naked, except for his undershorts, his sweat covered body chills in the feeble breeze whispering through the thick trees.
Hiding in the shrubs near him a Coqui frog cheerily chirps. Above him two red-throated hummingbirds flitter and circle. They are the first real biological hummingbirds Robert has ever seen. He observes that they are smaller and less colorful than the biomimetic hummingbirds he owns in Toronto. Also, they are not as friendly. When he extends his hand the twin birds flash away.
“Ok, fly away you biological Trochiliformes. I can print a dozen of you in my lab that are prettier and smarter.” Robert grouses at the empty air. “Wish I could print an Aethon cure that easy.”
Although he appreciates the peaceful nature show while momentarily reviving in the cool, he knows that Zhou requires his help. He is her research assistant robot. Her normal robotic assistant cannot operate in this thick undergrowth and on these steep slopes of the El Yunque rainforest without trampling and crushing the endangered vegetation. Lugging her digital sampling bag and portable spectrometer is now Robert’s chore.
It is difficult for robot-proponent Robert to admit it, but some tasks still remain that only humans can accomplish. Although, as he massages his cramping legs, he wonders if he is the best human to replace her robot for this work. He rarely walks outside on anything that is not paved and clearly marked. Being in nature is simply not natural for him.
Unable to see Zhou on the mountain above him, he worries that he may lose her in the brush, if he does not hustle. If he loses her then he is lost. She knows where they are and how they got here. He trusts her far more than he trusts his GPS in this trackless, overgrown section of the rain forest where the thick leaves and tangled limbs block his GPS signals.
After redressing in Rita’s 3D printed cooling clothes, Robert wrestles into Zhou’s digital sampling pack. Grabbing his discarded protective clothing, he starts struggling up the mountainside toward where he last spied Zhou.
Tripping and slipping and banging against the brush, Robert plows his way upward through the thick, tangled undergrowth leaving a trail of sweat, blood, bruised vegetation and anguish, muttering. “Ah, but these are the sacrifices I make in the name of science and to save mankind.”
In his haste, Robert is carelessly clumsy. Too tall for wandering through El Yunque’s thick, leafy canopy, he is constantly bending and twisting to avoid a face full of foliage. But, he does not duck low enough as he claws his way through a grove of Palo Bronco trees. It is a mistake he will never forget. Pulling himself ahead, he yanks a spindly Palo Bronco tree onto himself. As the bottom of the tree’s leaves slap his arms and cheeks, needle-like, stinging hairs sear his skin. His arm burns as if ablaze.
“Augh!” Robert screams alerting Zhou to his distress.
“Don’t touch your face or arms! You’ll only hurt worse, if you touch them.” Zhou yells from above him. “Rinse your affected areas with your water. It will help ease the sting. But, no matter what, you’re going to hurt for at least the next half hour. And stay away from those stinging nettles to your left and the Dumbcane plants directly ahead of you. They’re even more painful.”
Shaking his fiery arms, Robert surveys the jungle entangling him. “I’m afraid to move. How can plants with such beautiful blooms be so dreadful?”
“Oh, I disagree Robert. It’s their sting and poison that makes them useful. We won’t discover an Aethon antibiotic in a petunia. Or in guanabana either, as I’ve already discovered. But in these plants’ poison may hide the potion we seek.”
“Really? Which plant? They all look equally poison to me.”
Zhou raises a large green leaf in her gloved hand to show Robert. “I am particularly interested in this Dumbcane plant, because its leaves contain needle-like calcium oxalate crystals and proteolytic enzymes. Very potent. Eating its leaves can cause temporary paralysis of the mouth, tongue, throat and vocal cords. Also, if you accidentally rub it into your eyes the crystals from the leaf can cause temporary vision loss and swelling of the eyelid.”
“And that’s good for you?”
“Well, it’s a start. Actually, I am searching for something more lethal. It requires a killer to kill a killer. Aethon is a superbug that is simply mutating too quickly to tackle with hope and half measures. To stop Aethon, it must be eradicated...eliminated completely.”
Carefully backing away from the Palo Bronco tree, Robert searches for a safer path up the mountainside to Zhou. “Aha! I see you follow the old saying that what doesn’t kill you will make you better or in this case, what doesn’t kill you may heal you, eh.”
“Robert, be certain that you record the exact location of the Palo Bronco tree that bit you. If the samples I’ve taken from it and the soil around its roots indicate that it can be genetically altered to be useful, we will need to know where to find it again.”
After recording the location, Robert cautiously advances toward Zhou through a growth of ferns. “Are these plants safe?”
“Why are you asking me Robert? I thought you were a digital genius.” Zhou snaps, annoyed with his interruptions of her work. “You’re wearing the world’s knowledge embedded in your wrist. Use it. And while you’re accessing the genus of those ferns, which by the way aren’t going to bite you, look up the rare Manzanillo or Manchineel tree. There aren’t too many of them in Puerto Rico, so I could really use at least a general vicinity.”
After reaching Zhou and finding a small hole in the leaves, a few accurately directed thoughts activates Robert’s wrist computer and the heads-up display of his smart contact lens. First, he records the GPS coordinates for their current location and the plant and soil specimens found there. Then, he searches for Zhou’s Manchineel tree.
His quest is quickly answered. “We need to go to the beach Zhou. Manchineel trees prefer sandy, wet soil. Very few of them grow inland.”
Zhou biosensor scans her plant samples with her portable spectrometer then loads them into the digital sampling bag riding Robert’s back. “Ok. I hav
e all of the samples that I need from here. It’s time to return to the Instituto anyway.”
Robert is not listening. He is studying the description of the Manchineel. “Zhou, do you realize how dangerous these trees are? According to this you should definitely not eat the fruit. Not touch the tree trunk or any branches either, and do not pick up any of its shiny, tropic-green leaves. They also say that it’s best if you don’t stand under or even near the tree for any length of time whatsoever. And if you’re near the tree do not touch your eyes. Everything about this tree is poison, even the air around it. This is one deadly plant. Are you certain that you want to mess with a Manchineel?”
“Yes, even more so now.” Zhou’s eyes sparkle excitedly. “I believe its poison holds some real promise. The more poisonous the better.”
“Ok then.” Robert quips, as he cautiously begins descending the mountain. “Obviously, you’re a disciple of sixteenth century physician Paracelsus who said that poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.”
“Very insightful of you Robert. However, I doubt that even with all your memorized brilliance that you know Manchineel’s scientific name is Hippomane mancinella, which translates to the little apple that makes horses mad.” Zhou gracefully skitters across the forest floor.
As Zhou and Robert concentrate on carefully exiting the rain forest, they fail to notice the arrival of two, green-throated, mango hummingbirds. They are an extraordinary bird, rarely seen, especially in Puerto Rico. They are too unusual to be here. If Robert spots them, he immediately identifies them as two biomimetic birds. But, he does not notice them, nor does he realize that he inadvertently summoned them with his Manchineel tree query.
Fearing he may fall, Robert is focusing on his footsteps. With a whisper, one of the birds hovers into position five feet above his head. The other bird flutters into the same position above Zhou. Tiny spies, the hummingbirds listen, watch and record, seeking to know what they know.
After some thought about Zhou’s statement, Robert excitedly snaps his fingers. ”Which could potentially make Manchineel the perfect candidate to fight Aethon! Correct?”
“Oh, there’s no fooling you, is there?” Looking at the ground and choosing her steps carefully, Zhou descends El Yunque. “Now why don’t you apply your genius to locating some Manchineel for us? If the Manchineel doesn’t provide some positive results, then I fear that I won’t find any magical cure for Aethon here in Puerto Rico. We need an antibiotic or vaccine or something right now. The people are scared. They’re desperate...beginning to panic. Shengwu cannot win this battle by herself. Her clinic is too small and genome engineering is too slow.”
Silently, Robert mentally searches through all the data about the Manchineel he can find until he uncovers a probable location. “Are you ready to travel to the La Parguera Nature Reserve on the southwest coast? Manchineels often live among mangroves and La Parguera is Puerto Rico’s biggest mangrove forest.”
“I believe you meant to ask if we are ready to travel. Didn’t you Robert? Because we’re both going and I certainly hope you’re better piloting a boat than you are trekking through these trees. I have no desire for you to drown me.”
“Then I suggest that you invest in the best life jacket available.” Robert jokes as he slips and lands on his back in the brush.
“Luckily, I know how to swim.” Zhou continues as she steps across the prostate Robert.
SHENGWU VOWS
Torrents of sweat pour across Peter’s face and puddle on his hospital bed. A feeble moan escapes him. His breathing is shallow and ragged. He writhes in agony. Aethon is clawing deep into his frail body, shredding him. Peter is fighting for his life and losing.
“Oh Peter. Peter. My sweet, little, baby boy. I’m so sorry.” Sobbing, Shengwu softly whispers to Peter while stroking his small hand. “Sooner. If only I had known sooner.”
Gradually, a fragile, crinkle-smile flickers across Peter’s face. With puffs of breath, he whimpers. “Wu? Wu?”
“Yes Peter, I’m here. I’m right here.” She gently cups Peter’s fever-hot hand. His tiny fingers tickle her palm.
Choking, Shengwu kisses Peter’s burning forehead. “I fear I failed you in this life, but I promise you…I promise you Peter that I will not fail you in your next. Soon, you’ll never be sick again…and I promise that you’ll live a long, long life. You just can’t do it in this body.”
From a bag by her feet, she retrieves her HEART hat. Gently and lovingly, she slips her HEART hat onto Peter’s head. Peter whimpers, but is too weak to do anything more. Shengwu lightly brushes his damp hair from his fever-hot forehead.
“Now listen closely Peter. My sweet, little Peter, I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. But, I need to tickle your brain. It may sting. Just a little sting, so you’ll react. Then when you react, my hat will record your thoughts. Actually, not really your thoughts. My hat captures the teeny, tiny little electrical impulses in your brain’s cells creating your thoughts. Your character and personality generate those thoughts and your reactions. Ok?”
Shengwu squeezes Peter’s hand. “Are you ready, Peter? Just a little sting.”
Peter flinches as Shengwu runs her finger along the side of the HEART hat activating it. He utters not a sound. Then, after thirty seconds, an elfin grin creases his pale face. His eyes flutter open.”
“Wu.” He whispers with joy in his feeble voice when he sees his best friend.
“Oh Peter! Yes, it’s me. Look at me Peter. Look at me.” Shengwu is thrilled.
Concentrating Peter’s vision on her focuses his attention and emotions on her. She is mining his mind and gathering gold. All of his thoughts flowing into the HEART hat’s memory concern his relationships and love for her. She is capturing his heart in her HEART.
Peter’s eyes slowly close. He drifts away. Not quite asleep. Not quite awake. Drifting in a dream stream somewhere in between.
“Peter, listen to me. Listen to my voice. Remember my voice Peter. Remember what I tell you.” Shengwu pauses, waiting for Peter to react before continuing. “I love you Peter. Wu loves you. You love Wu. Peter and Wu love each other.”
Momentarily floating near the surface of consciousness, Peter stirs in his hospital bed. With his eyes closed, he mimics Shengwu in a faint whisper. “Peter loves Wu.”
Peter slips into silence. For a few moments, Shengwu watches Peter’s chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. “Hell is for us, the living, when a so loved child dies. You are taking so much of my heart away with you.”
With a wave of her finger, Shengwu de-activates her HEART hat. Gingerly, she slips the HEART hat from his head and places it in her lap. With a push of her finger she opens a small slot in the center of the top of the hat and retrieves a miniature memory chip.
Shengwu displays the chip to nearly comatose Peter. “Now, I’ve made you immortal. All of you is right here. All of your learning and laughter and love is right here, ready for imprinting in your future you.”
VOLEUR VISIT
The silence is unsettling. It is not normal. No protestors are rushing into the street to stop Robert from entering Shengwu’s facility. Instead, it is a bio-hazmat-suited San Juan police officer who hails and halts his auto-auto. He orders him to exit his glider for Aethon screening.
Robert is pleased and eager to comply. Obviously, while he was stumbling through El Yunque with Zhou, Shengwu implemented the plan and the equipment Pion and he designed. He puffs with pride seeing the officer wearing one of his green-is-clean Aethon patches.
As the police officer samples his breath and scans him with his spectrometer biosensor, Robert hunts for the missing protestors. They are nowhere to be seen. Their large revival tent is gone. Where it stood, Robert watches three hazmat-suited animal control officers running through the weeds chasing wild, feral cats. Bounding and weaving, the quick cats are easily eluding the frustrated officers. One office
r stumbles and crashes to the ground. When the officer does not move, two kittens jump from the grass landing atop the officer where they playfully wrestle with each other. The two kittens scamper back into the grass as soon as the officer breathes.
“Sir, my biosensor is not detecting the presence of Aethon. By order of President Negocio, entry is restricted to Aethon sufferers seeking treatment.” The officer leans past Robert to glance inside the glider, seeing nobody he continues his questioning. “Why do you wish to enter Stamina Vitae?”
“Well officer, I was just moved into Stamina Vitae and I also work there. As a matter of fact, I assisted in developing your Aethon biosensor and your Aethon detection patch.” Robert responds smugly. “By the way, where is my patch?”
Unimpressed, the police officer hands him his patch. “Here sir, wear this at all times where it can be clearly seen. It is required.”
Looking toward the area where he saw the protestors less than eight hours ago, Robert seeks an explanation for their unexpected disappearance. “Where’s that religious group? They were in their tent when I left this morning.”
“Five dead, six quarantined and four near-dead are receiving treatment in this clinic.” The officer declares with no emotion, while nodding his head toward Stamina Vitae.
“Five dead? When did that happen?”
Nervously looking first over his left shoulder and then over his right shoulder, he lowers his voice and leans close to Robert. “It was their stench. Two of them had been dead so long - don’t know how long - that they were beginning to stink. Starting to rot too, I hear. Some people in those houses over there complained. When they investigated they discovered Aethon.”