Variations on Humanity

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Variations on Humanity Page 15

by Paul Eslinger


  Silence fell on the group and Keene lengthened his stride. Soon they were all running fast enough that sustained conversation was impossible. No one wanted to be the first to suggest turning around, so they followed the tunnel for over six miles before they reached a closed door. They turned around and started back.

  Her normally competitive personality surged when Rhona realized she was breathing easier than either man. She ran for the pure pleasure of running, and the DNA changes Nanda was making made running easier. She gasped for air and then blurted out, “Let’s race.”

  Neither man responded, but Rhona didn’t care. She lengthened her stride and picked up the cadence. A minute later, she looked back. She could barely see Keene behind her. She couldn’t see Sam.

  She still had energy reserves, so she picked up the pace even more. When Keene came into sight, she was standing by the facility door, savoring a finish at nearly a world record pace for women, and her breathing rate was barely above normal. Sam finished two minutes after Keene. None of them talked on the way to the showers.

  Chapter 18 – Pregnancy

  A couple of evenings later, Beverly approached Rhona as she was filling a glass of orange juice in the cafeteria. Beverly filled a cup of hot tea and lifted it in a half salute. “They make good tea.”

  “I agree. That particular brand comes from the Charleston Tea Plantation in South Carolina. It’s the largest tea growing operation in the continental United States.”

  “Yeah.” Beverly seemed preoccupied with other thoughts and then she focused her attention on Rhona. “Can you talk privately with Ralph and me tonight before he heads back to the infirmary?”

  “Sure. Your apartment?” Beverly and Ralph used one of the underground apartments in the Abantu facility rather than having Ralph trek in and out of the facility every day. Both of his feet looked regenerated but Nanda said bone changes were still occurring.

  “That works for us.”

  Two hours later Rhona approached Beverly’s apartment. The door slid aside before Rhona could issue the open command.

  “Come on in,” Beverly called from a couch across the large room.

  “Thanks for coming,” Ralph added from a recliner. He pointed at the nearby motorized-wheelchair with a satisfied smile on his face. “I’m retiring that thing after tomorrow. I’ll have to use a walker for another week or ten days. After that, I can walk!”

  “That’s great. I’m glad I had a part in the process,” Rhona said as she sat on the couch. The upholstery felt and looked like supple leather, but it was synthetic, along with the rest of the couch. She leaned back, glad for a chance to relax with friends. “You wanted to talk?”

  “Not me.” Ralph gestured at Beverly. “It’s her. Well, it’s partly her and partly me.”

  Beverly’s appearance was that of a woman about forty rather than her true age of sixty. She looked embarrassed and a flush rose up her neck when Rhona looked at her. She swallowed, hesitated, and finally spoke. “I’m … I’m pregnant.”

  For a moment, Rhona didn’t believe her ears and her mind skipped a cog. “How did that happen?” she blurted.

  Ralph looked slightly abashed and his voice was less boisterous than normal. “Nanda’s whole-body rebuild job repaired … some parts … the land mine damaged when it stole my feet.”

  Beverly giggled like a ninth-grade girl. “We had to make sure everything was totally functional.”

  “I see,” Rhona replied, trying to keep her face solemn. She lost the fight with mirth and broke into a full laugh. Moments later, the other two joined her.

  Finally, her mirth subsided enough for Rhona to speak. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations.”

  Beverly was sitting close enough to Ralph to reach out and take his hand. “I never expected to have a child, not after…”

  “This is new for all of us,” Rhona agreed.

  “It’s not the pregnancy I’m worried about, at least, not directly.” Beverly patted her still completely flat abdomen. “People coming to the store are already talking about how I look a lot younger. They’ll notice I’m pregnant in two or three months.”

  Ralph gestured at his legs. “I haven’t been out of this facility since I started growing new feet. People will certainly notice when I walk into the store to meet with Beverly.”

  “A few people have noticed you are missing,” Rhona replied. “You might want to visit Beverly in the grocery store one more time using the wheelchair. It’s cold enough you can wrap up your legs and people won’t notice the changes.”

  “I’ll have to keep my stocking cap on as well.” Ralph ran his fingers through his hair. “Thick brown hair is replacing my thin grey hair. People would comment.”

  Beverly leaned forward. “People will really notice something is different in a few weeks when he walks into the store. Do you have a specific reason for delaying the exposure?”

  “Yes.” Rhona rose and paced back and forth while she continued talking. “Construction is moving a lot faster than I ever anticipated. We started producing the new vaccinations for general public use three weeks ago.”

  “I know,” Beverly interrupted. “We sent several to Cameroon.”

  Rhona nodded. “A much larger production facility will start operating in about ten days. We plan to start making deliveries to the first three commercial locations in less than a month.”

  “So, you want to suppress public comments for a while.” Beverly continued to hold Ralph’s hand. “That’s fine with us.”

  Ralph cocked his head. “I’ve been helping with the construction planning, so I already know the schedule.” He gestured at his legs with his free hand. “I’ve spent a lot of time hooked up to very complex medical equipment. Taking a few shots and using dietary supplements won’t help someone else regrow their legs, will it?”

  “No.” Rhona quit pacing as she responded. “I asked Nanda about that. Specialized treatment is required to regenerate lost limbs. However, she says they have a series of shots that will cause teeth to regenerate. The new ones will have much better enamel than we now have.”

  Beverly shuddered. “Shots in your gums?”

  “Yeah,” Rhona replied with a brittle laugh. “I’ve given plenty of shots in the past, but I was repairing or pulling teeth rather than causing them to regrow.”

  “Are you going to start selling the medicine and supplements in America?”

  “Not at first. We are discussing opening a clinic up in Ness City. There was a large block of land for sale out near the fairgrounds.”

  “Was for sale?” Ralph asked.

  “Yeah. Laura had me buy it.”

  “You haven’t tried to get FDA approval for the drugs, have you?”

  Rhona slid back down on the couch. She planned to take a run with Keene in about an hour and her leg muscles were already twitching in anticipation. “No, and we’re not planning to. Anyone can sell dietary supplements if they don’t make extravagant unsubstantiated claims. We’re not going to make any claims. We’re simply going to say they are the same supplements other people are using in Cameroon. We’re not going to sell experimental drugs.”

  “You have a good demonstration of effectiveness with us.” Beverly patted her hair and her stomach. “Are you planning to put me on display at the grocery store?”

  “No. We already have trials in progress with volunteers in eight different places around the world. We’re hoping the word of mouth advertising spreads out from there. One of the trials is in Maine.”

  Ralph shook his head. “Some people will come here anyway.”

  Rhona took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m also worried about that. We’re trying to talk Olga Booker into coming to work for us even before the county offices shut down. Dulcis and Laura think we have the situation well in hand. Keene and I think differently.”

  “Do you have
an evacuation plan?” Ralph’s voice grew rough as he patted his legs. “We didn’t have a good evacuation plan on my last deployment in the Army. I wasn’t the only one who stepped on a land mine that day.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “A couple. I understand the aedificium is about finished with the main tunnel.”

  “That’s right.” Rhona slid forward on the couch. “Are you suggesting we put in a hidden exit from the grocery store?”

  “Correct.” Ralph waved one finger in the air. “I also think you should replace all of the windows in the store and make the walls and ceiling bulletproof. Anyone could fly a drone in and…”

  Rhona reflexively reached for her side as she interrupted Ralph’s explanation. “I understand.”

  “I thought you would.”

  “Anything else?”

  Ralph shook his head. “Not right now.”

  Beverly’s expression turned thoughtful and she pursed her lips, “The Abantu like to build underground.”

  “They’ve been forced to move underground, on their home planet, on Ceres, and on Mars.”

  “Where would an exit tunnel from the store go?”

  “Uh, I see your point.”

  “They have good tunneling equipment. I think they should make a complex of tunnels with entry points all over town.”

  “Unsavory people could still get in,” Ralph protested. “I hear several got underground one time.”

  Rhona shivered without saying anything. She had been in one of the existing tunnels when a terrorist arrived to kill two Abantu he had already wounded. Her sudden attack from hiding had been more effective than she had ever imagined. The Abantu had quietly disposed of the terrorist’s body. His ghost occasionally rampaged through her nightmares.

  Beverly nodded at Ralph. “With human controls, yes. I wonder whether the Abantu have more effective screening methods than we do.”

  “I can bring it up with Laura,” Rhona said.

  “Okay.” Beverly leaned back on the couch. “I suppose they–we–would have to build a big rally point underground as well. I can see the tunnels connecting the store, church, school…”

  “That’s a major construction project.”

  “It is,” Ralph agreed. “I was just thinking of a bolt hole, but that might simply be the first step of a project covering quite a few years.”

  “Hmm,” Beverly muttered.

  “What now?” Ralph asked.

  “Rhona once asked me what I wanted to do when you got back on your feet.”

  “Yes?” Ralph prompted when Beverly paused.

  “I enjoyed science in high school and college, but getting a job in that field wasn’t a viable option when you came home from Iraq. I also like working with food and helping people enjoy life.”

  Rhona gestured with one hand when Beverly paused again.

  “I used to dream about running the restaurant at a high-end resort, and sometimes I even fantasized about running the entire resort. Anyway, I can’t imagine what the public reaction would be if I were to work at the hostess desk in my rejuvenated body.”

  “There would be a lot of gawkers, at least at first,” Rhona suggested. “Do you still dream about the same thing?”

  “I keep dreaming I’m on Ceres, Mars or the moon. I can understand Ceres, and possibly Mars, but not the moon.”

  “I was talking about a bolt hole. You can’t dig a tunnel from here to there,” Ralph said with a smile.

  “No, no, no.” Beverly waved both hands in negation. “But you don’t have to dig a tunnel from here to there. The Star Portal already builds an instantaneous tunnel through space-time.”

  “You’re way beyond me.”

  “Me too,” Beverly responded. “I enjoyed calculus, differential equations, measure theory, and abstract algebra, but that didn’t prepare me to understand how to make artificial gravity or build a Star Portal.”

  Rhona smiled. “Did you dream about mathematics?”

  “Nah, but I did dream about a vacation resort with a beautiful hostess.”

  Ralph shook his head. “The climate isn’t very good for vacationing at those places.”

  Beverly sat for long moments simply staring at her husband with a blank look. Finally, a hint of a smile touched her lips. “I’m looking at this differently.”

  “How?”

  “Do you think people would pay to travel to the moon?”

  Ralph gave his wife an incredulous look. “Some people already bought advance tickets for space flights for a half million. I assume they would.”

  Beverly swung around and looked directly at Rhona. “Suppose for a moment that Laura would let us build two new Star Portals. We could put one here on Earth and one on the moon.”

  “We could, provided she would build them for us.” Insight started to grow while Rhona watched Beverly. “I think I know what you’re talking about–keep going.”

  “Laura and the others already have the equipment and expertise to build underground in harsh environments. We could build a high-end resort on the moon.” Beverly stopped and waved her arms around the room they were sitting in. Every piece of furniture and every decoration was a construct built by an AI rather than being fashioned by human hands. Under the right controls, everything dissolved into a mist that the machines reshaped into something else.

  “Some people would pay an exorbitant sum to take an instantaneous trip to the moon and stay in unmatched luxury. We would have to include observation points in the facility.”

  “Interesting, but…” Rhona replied.

  “But we would have to talk Laura into letting us use a Star Portal. Security around them would be a nightmare. We would be interested in vacationers, but not military. We would have to control the visitor list very tightly.”

  “What about research rather than recreation?” Ralph asked.

  Beverly shrugged. “It wouldn’t pay nearly as well, but we could build a second facility for research.”

  Rhona smiled and chuckled. “We started discussing pregnancy and moved on to planning a ritzy resort. Are you serious about discussing the topic with Laura?”

  Silence fell on the room while Beverly and Ralph exchanged looks. He shrugged and made a little encouraging gesture. Beverly turned back to Rhona. “I am.”

  Chapter 19 – Embassy Line

  Rhona joined Keene in the Intelligence Center after lunch the following day. “How are things going?” she asked.

  “Quieter than I expected. There hasn’t been fallout over Sam and Trixie’s visit to Europe.”

  “None? I expected something. Laura ate crow in her discussion with Marlee.”

  “There are a few people with level heads in most governments. They have the upper hand right now. The rest are cooperating, hoping to get preferential treatment.”

  “What about the media?” Rhona asked.

  “That’s a different matter,” Keene acknowledged. “The number of media requests for interviews has skyrocketed in the last couple of days.”

  Rhona frowned. “Is there a ringleader?”

  “I’m thinking the same thing,” Keene said. “But I don’t yet have a handle on who it is.”

  “One person can whisper in the background. Have you checked on Senator Harper recently?”

  “Dulcis is collating the data right now. She’s not much faster today than my old cell phone.”

  “Tsk, tsk. Always in a hurry.” Rhona gestured towards the door. “I’m going over to the grocery store with Ralph and visit Beverly. I have a hankering for a dirt bomb.” A dirt bomb was a local favorite, similar to a cinnamon-sugar doughnut, but in muffin form. Beverly often added dried apricots or other fruit to the center for an extra burst of flavor.

  “Eat one for me. The food here is great, but I’ve developed a craving for a greasy basket of fish
and chips.”

  “Not converted to eating vegan?”

  “Nope.” Keene laughed. He walked over and opened the door for Rhona. “We need to use divisions among humans to our advantage,” he said.

  The change in topics surprised Rhona. “How do we do that?”

  “Our enemies will have less time for us if they are jousting with each other,” Keene replied. “That got me to wondering who first implemented that concept. Then I remembered that Nanda said there are nuggets of truth in the Bible. So, I read through Genesis a couple of times this week.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I don’t disbelieve her.”

  Rhona chuckled. “Should I get out my logic chart and diagram your statements?”

  “Do it some other time.” Keene waved one hand. “I read the account of the Tower of Babel again last night.”

  “Go on,” she prompted when he paused.

  “I remember one paragraph word for word,” he said. “But when the Lord came down to look at the city and the tower, he said, ‘These people are working together because they all speak the same language. This is just the beginning. Soon they will be able to do anything they want. Come on! Let’s go down and confuse them by making them speak different languages–then they won’t be able to understand each other.’”

  Rhona wrinkled her nose. “Is that passage one of the nuggets of truth?”

  “I wondered the same thing. However, other ancient writers give similar accounts. Dulcis referred me to accounts written by Herodotus, Eupolemus, Abydenus, and an unnamed Sybil.”

  “Okay,” Rhona said dubiously. “What does that mean for us?”

  “It appears our ancestors were united in purpose and approach as well as in language.” Keene scratched his neck. “Confusion certainly describes how humans interrelate today. More importantly, there isn’t an equivalent episode in Abantu history. Why not?”

  “They aren’t human,” Rhona blurted impulsively.

 

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