THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1)

by Dean, Warren

  Then President Ganzorig flew to Thailand, where he persuaded its government to be the first to take advantage of the Faerie Folk's offer to build housing desperately needed in that country. Not long after an agreement was reached, a Mongolian airbus landed at the busy Bangkok International Airport and a large contingent of Faerie Folk disembarked, led by a smiling Ambassador Ba. The ambassador dealt smoothly with the media, announcing that they were there to begin construction and repeating the offer to pass on the new technology to any nation that wanted it.

  The Chinese and Russian governments were suitably embarrassed by the ease with which their quarry had eluded them and had no choice but to pull their forces out of Mongolia. Ganzorig requested them to make amends for their incursion by recognising the status of the facility as an international embassy. As soon as they had grudgingly done so, the facility was uncloaked and a large contingent of international observers was invited to inspect it.

  David's 'mote chimed as a call came in from the Factory. "Answer", he said, slightly annoyed. He hated receiving calls from work when he was out, but Penelope was usually good at screening them and only forwarding him the important ones.

  "Sorry to bother you, sir, but I thought I had better put this person through to you," she said.

  "Who is it?"

  She hesitated. "I'm not sure, sir. I think he said that he is the ambassador of Bolivia but I couldn't hear him clearly, his voice seems to be distorted by a bad connection. He says it is a matter of great importance so I said that I would see if you were available."

  "Alright, I'll speak to him." He stifled his irritation and said, "Good morning, David Herald here."

  There was silence on the line and he was about to repeat himself when the caller spoke in a high-pitched voice with a slightly metallic tone. "Good day, Dr Herald," it said. The voice was strangely familiar, although for a moment David couldn't place it.

  "I apologise for disturbing you without an introduction or appointment, but I would like to discuss a transaction of mutual benefit with you. It involves a matter of some delicacy and, for that reason, I would prefer a meeting in person if you are amenable."

  Again there was silence, this time as David scrolled through his memory in an attempt to put a name to the caller. He couldn't remember ever meeting the ambassador of Bolivia and yet he was sure he had heard the voice somewhere before. Staring vacantly at the front page of his pulp download, the latest photograph of the smiling face of Ambassador Ba caught his eye, and his mind suddenly made the connection.

  "Are you still there, Dr Herald?" asked the ambassador.

  "Yes, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," he stammered.

  "I realise that my call is unannounced and I beg your forgiveness. I have a great many commitments at present and find myself compelled to ignore the appropriate social etiquette. If you are prepared to meet with me, I shall arrange a suitable location where I will make amends for my impolite approach. I am presently engaged with the hand-over of our inaugural housing estate in Bangkok, but I should be able to meet with you in three days. Will that give you enough time to travel to Thailand?"

  David couldn't imagine why the leader of the Faerie Folk might want to meet him. Was he interested in something the Factory had to offer? What he could imagine was his wife's reaction if he turned down the invitation. She was fascinated by the Faerie Folk and even he couldn't help but be intrigued by the prospect.

  "If you give me a chance to speak with my wife and clear my schedule, ambassador, I am sure that I can make myself available."

  "Of course, Dr Herald, and by all means extend my invitation to your wife and any of your colleagues who may wish to accompany you."

  "I will do so, thank you. Is there someone my assistant may call to make the necessary arrangements?"

  "Yes, Translator Vi will co-ordinate the meeting and can be contacted on the 'link I am using now. I look forward to meeting you, Dr Herald."

  The call was disconnected.

  David sat for a few minutes, wondering about the purpose of the ambassador's request. His coffee had arrived but sat untouched on the table. He called Pris but she didn't answer, probably busy with a lecture.

  Then he called Chunky, partly to see if he wanted to come along and partly to make sure that the whole thing wasn't one of his practical jokes. If it was, his reaction to the news was impressively genuine and, when no chuckled confession was forthcoming, David decided he had to take the incident at face value. Always keen to embark on an adventure, Chunky readily agreed to go, but not before he had the audacity to ask whether David was having him on! David didn't bother to dignify that with an answer.

  "Did you ask about their hard-water compound?" Chunky enthused. "I still can't get my head around it. How can H2O become a building material, simply by altering its composition?" He had been obsessed by the concept since it had been announced. The actual formula hadn't been made public as the Faerie Folk were anxious to prevent it from being inaccurately applied. The last thing they wanted was poor quality structures giving the technology a bad name. Instead, any nation which wanted it would be sent a team of analysts to instruct and supervise local contractors. The formula would eventually become common knowledge, but by then sufficient building projects would have been completed and its integrity well-established.

  "No," said David. "I was too surprised to ask anything. You can ask him yourself at the meeting if you want."

  David called Penelope and instructed her to clear his schedule for a few days and to make the arrangements for him to fly to Thailand with Pris and Chunky.

  Pris called as he was ordering a fresh cup of coffee.

  "Hello, I missed your call, how is your day going?"

  "Weirdly. How would you like a trip to Thailand to meet the Faerie Folk?"

  She laughed. "Very funny, you're getting as bad as Chunky. You must be really bored to come up with silly stuff like that. Anyway, I have another lecture, so I can't talk now."

  "So should I tell Penelope not to book you on the airbus?"

  "Are you being serious? When?"

  "We leave on Friday morning. Unfortunately your brother is coming too."

  "But we are supposed to be going to the convocation dinner at MIT on Friday night with John and Alison."

  A pregnant silence betrayed the fact that David's memory had failed him for the second time that day.

  "Don't tell me you've forgotten, I told you about it weeks ago."

  "Didn't we go to the convocation dinner last month?"

  "No, that was the faculty prize-giving. Your memory is deteriorating very badly for someone who isn't getting any older."

  David had given up trying to keep track of the never-ending series of social engagements he attracted. John Wilson, the ambitious head of Pris' department, was particularly determined to be seen with MIT's most celebrated graduate as often as possible and insisted on inviting David and Pris to every social function on the calendar.

  "You would rather sit in a cold auditorium listening to a bunch of over-dressed academics with inflated opinions of themselves than fly to warm, sunny Thailand to meet beings from another planet?"

  "Not when you put it like that, no. What should I tell John?"

  "Tell him you will invite Ambassador Ba to the next convocation dinner. I'm sure that will make him very happy."

  Pris laughed again. "You're not being very helpful, you know. Don't worry, I'll think of something."

  "Does that mean you want to come, then?"

  "Someone with your IQ shouldn't pretend to be dense, dear."

  It was David's turn to laugh.

  Pris had to go then, and David returned to his pulp download. An item at the bottom of the front page caught his eye. It was a conspiracy theory claiming that the Faerie Folk had an ulterior motive for their visit to Earth. Of course, the media delighted in running these stories despite the fact that there was never any hard evidence backing them up. It was inevitable that, once the novelty of the arrival o
f the Faerie Folk had worn off, the media would look for more and more outrageous angles to keep the sensation alive.

  Today's story was particularly lurid, and he read it for its entertainment value. According to an interview with a group of Brazilian industrialists, the purpose of the introduction of the hard-water technology was to disguise a plan to steal Earth's fresh water. The Faerie Folk needed the water to sustain a massive battle fleet passing through the galaxy on its way to conquer a rival civilisation.

  If that was so, asked Personet reporters at the interview, why didn't they despatch part of the battle fleet to Earth to simply take the water? Because their weapons are so destructive that the water would be contaminated in the process of subduing Earth's military defences, replied the industrialists. And the Faerie Folk are concerned about the humans spiking the water once they discover what the invaders are after.

  Why does the battle fleet need to pass through the Milky Way when it could travel directly to its destination using the star drive? Because the Faerie Folk are lying about the star drive; it exists only in theory and their ships actually take light years to travel through space. They have promised humanity this non-existent technology in order to secure its blind co-operation. The alleged incompatibility of terrestrial technology is just an excuse to give them time to get the water-siphoning apparatus in place. They would have the world believe that the apparatus is necessary for the conversion of water into building materials, but its real function is to send the water up to the star ship orbiting the Moon. Unless something is done to stop them, the Earth will be left an arid ruin.

  David was a little surprised that a respectable publication like the Tribune would run such an unlikely, if ingenious, item on the front page. The cynic in him wondered how the water would be transported through space to the distant battle fleet. Perhaps the Faerie Folk could use wormholes which would siphon water like giant straws.

  Good grief, now he was making up lurid theories himself!

  He finished his coffee and began his walk back to the Factory. A cool wind was now blowing in from the Charles River and swirls of dry autumn leaves arranged and re-arranged themselves around his feet. He shrugged on his overcoat.

  "They are not our friends," said a deep voice at his elbow. He looked round and saw that a bearded young man was walking alongside him, matching his pace. He had forgotten about the protesters and hadn't noticed that they had spread out across the common. Feigning polite interest, he took the leaflet that was being offered to him. "DON'T TRUST THEM," it began in large red letters. Below the heading was a rather evil-looking caricature of Ambassador Ba. Startled, he shot a quick glance at the protester, wondering for a moment whether his conversation with the ambassador had somehow been overheard.

  "Join us, before it's too late," said the young man, and walked away to spread his message to other pedestrians.

  David glanced at the rest of the leaflet as he hurried off the common. A group calling itself DOPE (Defenders of Planet Earth) warned that Ambassador Ba and his companions were an advance party preparing the way for an invasion of Earth. Citing a number of unexplained incidents as evidence, DOPE wanted the world's governments to demand that the Faerie Folk leave the planet immediately.

  Their movement was aptly named, he thought unkindly. He looked around for a trash bin, but there were none close by. He folded the leaflet and slipped it into his coat pocket. The wind was stronger in the confined spaces between the buildings along Franklin Street and he pulled his overcoat closed, turning up the collar to keep the wind off his neck.

  Deep in thought, he ignored everyone at the Factory, except for Heidi of course, until he stepped out of the chute at the ninth floor.

  He asked Penelope to call the connection recorded on his 'link to confirm the invitation, and watched her eyes grow large as she was put through to Translator Vi of the Faerie Folk.

  Three days later, he, Pris and Chunky boarded an airbus to Bangkok. Whenever he flew, he was thankful for the demise of the dreadful passenger airlines he remembered from his youth. Mercifully, the cramped seats, miniscule luggage compartments, re-cycled air, and plastic food were a thing of the past. During the financial crises of the early part of the century, most of the airlines had gone bankrupt. The ever increasing cost of fuel, of manufacturing new aircraft, and of maintaining massive airports, eventually put the price of air travel out of reach of all but the most affluent.

  The crisis was resolved by the development of the air-vortex propulsion system; the use of pressurized air to move, lift or propel large objects. The technology was so successful it was now found in everything from elevator chutes to cranes, and even in the new breed of environmentally friendly motor vehicles. To take advantage of the new technology the aircraft industry completely re-vamped its aircraft design. Out went the sleek, but impractically heavy, metal airplane and in came the much larger, more spacious airbus, shaped like a flat-bottomed dirigible and constructed chiefly of light-weight carbon-fibre.

  The engines which powered the air-vortex were much smaller than the massive jet engines carried by the airplane and used a fraction of the fuel. Able to hover on a cushion of air, an airbus could take off and land vertically and had no need of long runways and expensive landing facilities. All the new craft needed was a landing pod; a flat-topped little structure with a retractable roof. The world's airports had no choice but to convert, and any that thought they could continue to charge exorbitant landing fees and airport taxes were smartly put out of business when the airlines simply built their own landing pods nearby.

  The new means of air travel was also much safer. The optimum cruising altitude of the airbus was much lower than that of the airplane. The latter was faster and more fuel efficient at higher altitudes, whereas the former thrived where the air was denser. Being closer to the ground, it was able to deploy parachutes and float to safety if its air-vortex ever failed.

  Airbus travel was slower, but the longer flights were made infinitely more bearable by the on-board amenities; dining cabins, gymnasiums, shower cubicles, and bed-seats.

  Bangkok International Airport, a fraction of the size it once was before the advent of the airbus, was still one of the busiest in the world. Long established as the gateway to South East Asia, the presence of the Faerie Folk and their inaugural hard-water housing project in the city had attracted a wave of visitors. Tourists rubbed shoulders with business executives and foreign government representatives, all intent on investigating the potential of the new technology.

  David and Pris watched from one of the many view-ports in the dining cabin as their airbus floated across the airfield. Chunky had finished a work-out in the gym and was taking a shower. The pilots selected a vacant landing pod and settled the airbus gently onto its roof. As it powered down, the passengers retrieved their luggage from the spacious storage compartments underneath their bed-seats and made their way to the chute deck. The retractable roof of the pod slid aside and extendable elevator chutes slid noiselessly from the belly of the airbus to the floor of the spacious reception hall.

  David and Pris waited for Chunky to join them and then stepped into a chute. When they stepped out again a few seconds later, it was like diving into a pool of warm water. The pleasantly cool temperature of Boston had been preserved throughout the flight by the air-conditioning system of the airbus. The pod was also air-conditioned, but once its roof was retracted it was open to the heat and humidity of one of the world's hottest cities. Although Thailand was heading into what passes for its winter months, daily temperatures regularly approached forty degrees centigrade. Already warm and flushed from his work-out, Chunky was instantly drenched and, within a few minutes, even Pris was wiping beads of sweat from her brow.

  They wafted their hands over one of the numerous fingerprint readers around the hall and walked through the security scanners at the exits. Since the Personet had brought about the demise of all restrictions on international trade, there was no longer any need for complex customs proce
dures and most nations were content with simply recording a visitor's arrival and scanning for drugs and weapons.

  They caught the shuttle to Bangkok's central transport hub and found themselves caught up in a sea of people. Not content with being one of the world's hottest cities, Bangkok was also one of its most populous. David and Chunky couldn't help but marvel at the multitude of transport options available and Pris was instantly impressed by the generally cheerful disposition of the Thai people. Even those who seemed to be living on the streets in squalor beamed a welcome to the visitors passing by. The 'land of smiles' certainly lived up to its reputation.

  Oblivious to the jovial atmosphere, David and Chunky began complaining vociferously about the crowds, the heat, the noise, the smell, and the dubious quality of the vehicles available for hire. When their carping showed no signs of abating, Pris threw up her hands in disgust and hopped onto the back of the most filthy, dilapidated vehicle she could see.

  "You can't be serious," Chunky whined as the driver enthusiastically tossed their luggage aboard. "I can't even work out what this thing is".

  "When did you become such an old fart?" she responded witheringly, and refused to be persuaded to exchange her choice for something better.

  David gave in first and clambered onto one of the hard wooden benches on the open-topped back of the vehicle. He looked around for some kind of seatbelt or hand-hold but could see nothing of the sort. He consoled himself with the thought that the ancient looking contraption couldn't possibly move fast enough to be dangerous.