The Good, the Bad, and the Merc: Even More Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 8)

by Chris Kennedy

  Zeke looked around the room. As a medical doctor, he had been in plenty of labs in his life, and he could easily identify the room as such. It was a large room, easily 40 feet on a side, and full of gleaming metal equipment, although he didn’t recognize the majority of the apparatuses.

  Zeke bit back the comment to tell Zirt it looked more like a lab than a home; instead, he simply repeated, “Home, eh?”

  “Yes, this will be your home from now on. Triz and I are doing research on how to extend the lifespan of our race. You and Leega will be our assistants.”

  “Who is Leega?” Zeke asked, looking around. There was no one else in sight.

  “I am Leega,” a thin voice said. Zeke looked around one of the machines and saw an elSha adjusting something on it. The tiny reptilian was less than three feet tall and moved with the hyperactivity their race was known for, darting back and forth around the machine as it continued to work. It also wore a collar similar to the one around Zeke’s neck.

  “Leega has been here several years,” Zirt said. “He knows the routine. He will tell you what we require. We are going to eat and then we will return. Be ready to work when we get back.”

  “May I ask a question before you go, Master Zirt?” Zeke asked, trying to sound respectful.

  “What is it?” Zirt’s tone of voice indicated the hand in his pocket was on Zeke’s pain box.

  “Why did you pick me to assist you in your efforts?” Zeke asked. “I don’t know what any of this gear is.”

  “You may not, but you have a flexibility of mind that Triz found interesting. You were thoroughly outclassed by the beasts you fought, yet you found a way to use what you had at hand to defeat them. Although our research has progressed somewhat, we have only made incremental progress for quite some time. It is hoped your flexibility of mind will give us a different perspective on our research and will help us make the breakthroughs we are looking for.”

  “Like I said, though, I am not familiar with your research nor what you are trying to do. What happens if I am unable to provide the breakthrough you are looking for?”

  “That is simple,” Zirt said with a smile. “If you are unable to help us, we will kill you and replace you with someone who can.” The two Limbets turned and left the room, leaving Zeke standing just inside the doorway with his mouth open.

  After a few moments, he walked over to the where the elSha continued to adjust the machine. “Did they mean it?” he asked. “That if I can’t help them make a breakthrough they will kill me?”

  “Yes,” the little reptilian said solemnly. “That is how you came to be here. You are replacing a MinSha who didn’t work out. He never quite adjusted to the work schedule, and he couldn’t adapt to their changing needs—they said they were looking for someone who can foresee their needs. The MinSha was gone one day when I came on shift and Zirt said he wouldn’t be coming back, ever. I assumed he was killed.”

  “So what do I have to do to not be killed?”

  “The Limbets are a research pair. The two rarely sleep, although they do take four meal breaks during their day.”

  “How long is the day?”

  Leega named the galactic equivalent of 27 hours.

  “Those are long days,” Zeke replied.

  “That is the length of a day here,” Leega said, “although I can’t confirm it for sure, since I’m never allowed out of the lab. I have a small room off the back, just like you.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We clean the lab, we adjust the machinery, and we look at what they tell us to and try to give them new ideas to pursue.”

  “And if we can’t…”

  “They’ll look for someone new who can.”

  “How are you still here if they haven’t made any breakthroughs? Why haven’t you been killed?”

  “I work fast. Even though I haven’t come up with an idea for them, I keep the machinery working at peak efficiency. When there has been a choice, they have always chosen the other assistant.”

  “So, what’s your plan to get out of here?” Zeke asked.

  “Plan for getting out?” the elSha asked. “There’s no getting out of here. Once the Limbets have you, the only way you’ll leave here is through death.”

  “Well, I’m not ready to die,” Zeke replied, “especially now that I’m out of that damn lizard jail—no offense—and I’m certainly not staying here.”

  “No offense taken,” the elSha said. He put his hands up in the equivalent of a shrug. “They are fair masters, but they are strict. I guess it is possible that if you do something well enough and provide the break they are looking for, they might let you go. That’s what I hope, anyway.”

  “Hope isn’t a plan. Hope is like running; it’s what you do when the plan fails.” Zeke shook his head. “No. I’m going to figure a way out of here.”

  “Well, good luck,” the elSha said. “I’ve been here ten years, and no one that I know of has ever gotten out of here in that time. About the only thing they’ve given me is more food and slightly longer breaks, when I told them I could be more productive with those things. Still, I didn’t get them until after I had been here several years.”

  “They give you things to make yourself more productive?” The alien nodded. “Well, that’s something.” Zeke’s eyes unfocused as he thought. “Yes,” he said absently after several moments of thought, “I think I can make that work…”

  5

  “Can I ask what you are working on, Master Zirt?” Zeke asked when the Limbets returned.

  “As I mentioned before, we are looking to extend life for our race.”

  “I understand that,” Zeke replied, “but how are you trying to accomplish it? What is your methodology?”

  “We are concentrating on curing the diseases, like cancer, that our people are susceptible to. If we are able to keep our people from dying from these diseases, they will all live longer.”

  “The people on my planet thought that, too,” Zeke said. “And in the century before first contact, we were able to raise life expectancy from about 47 years to about 80.”

  “So you were successful? Tell me, how was it done?”

  “No, we weren’t successful. Although we were able to fend off a number of diseases that come along with ageing, that was mostly due to advances in curing childhood diseases, not actually extending life. People lived longer, but then came down with a variety of age-related chronic diseases such as heart disease, cancer, stroke, and Alzheimer’s. There was a push to eradicate each of them, like you’re doing, but when we got rid of one, another one would assume prominence.”

  “So what did you about it?”

  “There were a lot of experiments going on when I left Earth that were trying to find ways to prevent ageing at its root, thereby fending off the age-related diseases. I wasn’t involved, but I read some of the articles on them. Scientists found some drugs that extended life in lab animals or copied the effects of genes that occur in long-lived people, but they never found the magic ‘thing’ that would prevent the effects of ageing at its root, only things that delayed the effects.”

  “That is less than helpful,” Zirt said. “That is basically the results we have achieved so far. We have eradicated one of our biggest diseases, only to find that other diseases became more prevalent instead.”

  “I understand that,” Zeke said. “The thing is, we didn’t have access to the types of technology you have available. When I left Earth, the scientists were working on telomere lengths and thought that was the key to extending the ageing process. In the last few years, I have had access to technology we didn’t have on Earth, and I have some ideas on how it may work. As it turns out, when you’re in jail, you have plenty of time to think.”

  “I’m sorry, back up. One of your words didn’t translate. What lengths were the key?”

  “Telomeres. I didn’t get too far into it as it wasn’t my specialty back on my home planet, but I’ve done some experimentation with them since I left Eart
h. Telomeres are the caps at the end of each strand of DNA that protect our chromosomes. Without the cap on the end of the DNA, it becomes damaged, and the cells don’t work right. In young Humans, the telomeres are a certain length. Every time the cell divides, the telomere gets shorter. At some point, it stops being able to do its job, and then the cell stops dividing or dies.”

  “And DNA is?”

  “DNA, or deoxyribonucleic acid—and I’m sure that won’t translate—is the molecule that carries the genetic instructions for cells to do all the things cells are supposed to do, like how to grow, develop, and reproduce. We need to figure out how to increase telomere length so your life molecules won’t degrade, and you will live longer.”

  “Really?” Zirt asked. The two Limbets ran up to Zeke in excitement. “How will you—”

  They stopped and backed up when Zeke fell to the floor in pain as the pain box minimum distance was breached.

  “Bitch!” Zeke said when he could talk again. “Not you, Master,” he added quickly. “I mean that hurt like a son of a bitch.”

  “I apologize,” the Limbet said. “Do you think this is possible? What you just suggested?”

  “Yes, I do,” Zeke said. “Especially if I’m able to keep you far enough from me to keep from frying my brain cells. I will get right on it. It won’t be easy, but I think it’s possible. Just give me plenty of space.”

  6

  “I’ve got it!” Zeke shouted many years later. He looked back into the microscope. “Oh, yes, I finally got you, you beautiful little cells!”

  Zirt and Triz ran over to the microscope, careful to wait until Zeke backed away from the equipment before they approached.

  “What is it?” Zirt asked. “Your recent trial is effective?”

  “Yes it is,” Zeke said. “I finally figured out the process.”

  “Tell us,” Zirt ordered. “What finally worked?”

  “You’ll remember when you first brought me here, I said we needed to increase telomere length, right?”

  “That is correct, but it has been a long time since then, and you have given us many false hopes before now. As recently as a month ago, you told us that you thought you had devised the right process, only to tell us later that it didn’t work. How do you know this is the correct procedure?”

  “I know this is the correct procedure, because I’ve seen it work,” Zeke said. “The concept is fairly easy in theory—extending the length of the telomeres by using nanobots to add to them, while simultaneously using other nanobots to destroy mutating cells throughout the body—it’s just that putting it into practice has been the real bitch. I’ve finally got it, though, and I’m sure of it. All we need to do is take a DNA sample of the person who we want to treat with the anti-ageing process. We then use the DNA to construct a medium in which to grow the nanobots and seed them with the telomeres, and then the little ‘bots go to work. The result is person-specific nanobots that add to the length of a person’s telomeres, extending that person’s life substantially.”

  “How much longer will it extend one’s life?”

  “I don’t know, but when I die, you can find out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I actually figured it out some time ago, and I treated myself with the procedure then. Over the last month, I’ve watched as the length of my telomeres has grown. I also tweaked some additional nanobots to destroy any mutated cells they come upon in my body. It’s a pretty streamlined process—they actually get their energy from the cells that they destroy, so they can continue to work for periods vastly exceeding normal nanobot lifetimes.”

  “If you knew it was the right process, why did you tell us a month ago that it didn’t work? In order to give yourself time to test it on yourself?”

  Zeke smiled. “No, I actually injected myself with the correct nanobots several months ago, and I confirmed it worked two months ago. I didn’t tell you then that it worked, because I wanted to find other uses of the technology before turning it over to you.”

  “What a good slave you are,” Zirt said. He turned to Triz. “You made an excellent choice to select him.” Zirt turned back to Zeke. “What other uses have you found?”

  Zeke’s smile grew more feral. “Well, I wondered if the opposite was true—if I could make nanobots that would decrease telomere length as well as increase it. A month ago, I found out I could.”

  “Why would you want to—” Zirt stopped mid-sentence as Triz grabbed him. Triz’s eyes were huge, and the symbiote stared at Zirt for almost 20 seconds in silent conversation before Zirt turned back to Zeke.

  “What have you done?” Zirt asked.

  Zeke popped open a compartment in his right arm and pulled out a vial. He showed it to the Limbets, then placed it back in his arm and sealed the compartment.

  “As it turns out, like most things in life, it is easier to destroy than create. While you have to grow DNA telomere lengths individually for each person, you can devise a nanobot procedure that works to destroy telomere length for an entire race. A month ago, I developed that procedure, and ever since then, I have been creating them as fast as your machinery would build them.”

  “And what did you do with them?”

  “Oh, I laid some around the lab in all the places you two normally touch with bare skin just for fun and fed the rest of them into the water supply system. By my calculations, approximately two thirds of the population should be affected by now. The nanobots are on a timer; when that timer goes off, the nanobots will begin destroying all of the telomeres they can find in Limbet bodies.”

  “I will kill—” Zirt said, taking a step toward Zeke as he reached into his pocket.

  “Don’t!” Zeke yelled. He continued when Zirt stopped. “See, I figured that would be your first reaction, and I wanted to make sure it didn’t happen, so here’s what I’ve done. Remember when you first saw me, and I blew up one of the cats I was fighting with the battery in my arm?”

  Both Limbets nodded.

  “That’s why I showed you the vial that’s in my right arm. That vial has the procedure to undo what I have done, as well as the correct procedure needed to extend your lives. However, I have programmed the battery in that arm to self-destruct if it loses connection with my brain waves. Therefore, if you fry me with my collar, my arm will detonate and destroy the vial. It will also probably kill me. You’ll be left with nothing. Similarly, if you try to cut my arm off in my sleep—boom!”

  Zeke had been around the Limbets enough to recognize their horrified expressions. “Now, because you have treated me fairly well over our period of association, I’m willing to make a deal with you. I will turn over the vial containing both the cure for what I’ve done, as well as the original procedure for extending life, and I only want three things. First, I want the collar off now. That has a secondary benefit of protecting both you and me from my arm exploding inadvertently. Next, I want a million credits for my service here, which is far less than you’ll be able to charge for the correct procedure, once you get rid of the other nanobots currently in your bodies. Finally, I want transportation to the nearest merc pit. I think that’s probably Karma, in which case, I will hand over the vial once we reach Peepo’s Pit.

  “Remember, if my arm loses contact with my brain waves—no matter whether that is because of my death, dismemberment, or electrocution—the battery in my arm will detonate, destroying the one hope you have of saving your society. Similarly, in case you get any ideas about rescinding your promise of safe passage to Karma, or if anything should happen to me on the way—say I vanish while in hyperspace—you will not be able to stop the nanobots, which will result in your deaths.”

  “Just our deaths?”

  “No, it will probably be the death of your entire race, or at least every Limbet on this planet by the time the nanobots go active. I’ve been putting it in the water system for a month; if the nanobots haven’t made their way across the planet by now, they soon will.”

  “But that’s…tha
t’s genocide! That goes against everything the Galactic Union stands for!”

  Zeke took a minute to pull out a cigar and light it, then he smiled. “Sure would be a shame if that happened, wouldn’t it? I guess that puts everything in your hands. You need to make sure I arrive safely on Karma, or you’ll be responsible for the death of your race.”

  “That’s not our fault—we didn’t do this!”

  “Perhaps not; however, you are the only ones who can stop it…or you can make the decision to allow it to run its course. Personally, I hope you make that choice; I’ll have my pick of craft to leave here with.”

  “How do we know you aren’t lying to us?”

  “Well, you could wait until the symptoms begin to show up; however, if you do so, there won’t be enough time to get to Karma and back in time to save your people.”

  “No, I mean, how do we know you have an antidote, and you’ll give it to us?”

  “Even though you’ve kept me here a long time and have denied me my basic rights, you haven’t made my time any worse here than it had to be. Nothing you’ve done, or not done, is worthy of having me end your race. I don’t want to be remembered as the man who committed genocide.”

  “Well if that’s true—”

  “I also don’t want to be a man who died in slavery, and that one trumps my reluctance to commit genocide. I can, and I will, kill every last one of you, if that’s what it takes to get out of here. Here’s the bottom line. I have set this up to kill you all, and I do have an antidote I can and will give you—if you set me free. Make no mistake, though, I will kill every last one of you sons of bitches if you don’t.” Zeke took a puff and blew out a smoke ring, then he asked, “So, what’s it going to be?”

  Triz walked over to Zirt and hugged him. After a few moments of bonding, Zirt said, “You have us in a position where we cannot win, regardless of what we do.”