by Dean, Warren
"Come on, get in," he said to Chunky. "If it breaks down we can transfer to something else."
Chunky reluctantly pulled himself aboard, and was almost flung straight off again as the vehicle took off like a bat out of hell. David hung on to his seat for dear life and Pris shrieked, whether in terror or delight he couldn't tell. Had he not kept his eyes closed for most of the journey he would probably have been impressed by the skill with which the driver was able to hurl the taxi-cab through heavy traffic without ever seeming to slow down. He tried not to wonder about the reliability of its brakes and how it would stop when, or if, it reached their hotel.
After what seemed an eternity, they reached the Baiyoke Sky, an eighty-eight storey marvel towering above the dense smog of downtown Bangkok. With a sideways skidding motion, assisted by a minor collision with another dilapidated vehicle already double-parked at the kerb, the cab lurched to a halt.
Giddy with relief, David paid the driver twice the agreed fare while Chunky handed their luggage down to a bellboy, dressed in shabby livery, who promptly began hauling it down the street away from the hotel.
Chunky leapt down with a shout, and then looked on in amazement as two more bellboys, dressed in much smarter livery, raced out of the hotel and ran after the first bellboy. Retrieving the luggage and dragging it unceremoniously up the front steps, they explained in broken English that the other bellboy had intended to take them to a rival hotel and persuade them to book in there. But the Americans need not worry; the bellboys of the Baiyoke Sky were faster and stronger than any other bellboys and would never allow them to be taken to an inferior hotel. They ushered David, Chunky and Pris into the gleaming, refreshingly cool, foyer of the hotel. There they were welcomed by the reception manager, a dapper Thai man with a seemingly permanent grin on his face.
After they had waved their hands over the check-in reader, the bellboys took them to their suites. An extremely powerful chute whisked them to the seventy-first floor at such speed that David's head was spinning when they stepped out of the chute and walked down a corridor. One of the bellboys let Chunky into his room, and David and Pris followed the other further down the passage. He showed them into a beautifully furnished suite; a large combined bedroom and sitting room, with a state of the art AVIC in one corner, and elegant sunken bath in another. With exaggerated care, the bellboy placed their now battered and dusty luggage within an ornate closet and, after maximising his tip by reminding David of his earlier bravery, left them in peace.
Exhilarated by the morning's events, Pris lay down on the bed and dissolved into a fit of giggles. David had to laugh, too.
"Do you think that fight over the luggage was genuine? It seemed to be very well choreographed if you ask me," he said when their laughter had subsided.
"Did you see the reception manager? I think that smile is permanently tattooed onto his face!"
"What about Chunky's face when he saw the first bellboy making off with our luggage?"
As if on cue, Chunky walked in, and stood bemused as David and Pris broke down laughing at the sight of him.
"That does it," he muttered, "I'm never travelling with you two again."
David left Pris to mollify her brother and activated the AVIC. He waited for it to connect to his 'link and then checked for messages. There were two, one from Penelope asking whether they had arrived safely, and the other from Ambassador Ba inviting them to a meeting at the rooftop restaurant of the Baiyoke Sky that evening. David wondered about the choice of venue, surely there would be bedlam when the Faerie Folk walked into a restaurant? He accepted the invitation and then instructed Penelope not to contact him with anything other than a dire emergency.
They spent the afternoon browsing through the Pratunam Market, a lively shopping experience spread over several downtown city blocks. They found that it sold almost anything they could imagine, and even a few things they couldn't. Later, the three of them dressed smartly and made their way to the revolving deck on the roof of the hotel. The aptly named Sky Restaurant was packed with diners, but when David identified himself the maître d' immediately seated them at a cordoned off table.
For a while, there was no sign of the ambassador and David was beginning to wonder if the whole thing had been a figment of his imagination. He was about to activate his 'link to check for messages when Chunky spotted a small hover-copter flying towards the hotel. It banked to the right, the sound of its rotors muffled by the thick windows of the building. It passed out of sight and the sound ceased. None of the patrons seemed to take any notice and David gathered that the arrival of dignitaries by 'copter was commonplace.
What wasn't commonplace was the sight of two tall, slim beings from another galaxy following the maître d' between the tables. There was a brief dip in the level of conversation and a smattering of applause from some of the diners, but that was the extent of the reaction. It seemed that, in Bangkok, such exotic sights merited no more response than that.
David and Chunky sprang to their feet as the Faerie Folk approached their table.
"Good evening, Dr Herald," said the slightly taller of the two figures, briefly inclining his head to the left. "May I introduce you to Analyst Ko."
Having seen them many times in the media, David wasn't expecting to be intimidated by the creatures. But, up close, their imposing height and flat, alien features gave them a startling presence. David's mouth had suddenly gone dry, and Pris and Chunky found themselves speechless.
"This is my wife, Priscilla, and my technical director, Chunky, er, Charles Tyler," stammered David. "Please, join us."
After they had all taken their seats and ordered a round of drinks, the ambassador spoke. "I am sure you are wondering why I asked to meet with you. If you will permit me, I will get business out of the way, so that we can enjoy our meal."
"What a good idea, ambassador," said Pris, recovering her composure.
He reached into a fold of his robes and produced a small metallic device, which he placed in the middle of the table.
Anything technological was sure to draw Chunky's attention. "Is that one of your cloaking devices?" he asked curiously.
"It is," said the ambassador. "It will shield our conversation from anyone not sitting at this table. I apologise for having to resort to such measures, but I would prefer that our conversation remain private."
"We understand, ambassador," said David. "In our business we are accustomed to keeping things strictly confidential."
The ambassador reached out and pressed down on the top of the device with a slender finger. This produced no noticeable effect, but the ambassador seemed satisfied that he could now speak freely.
"As you probably know from interviews I have given in your media, our race is facing a serious genetic crisis. Although our individual longevity is increasing, our females are becoming less and less fertile. If the decline is not arrested, our race will ultimately die out altogether. Our genetic analysts have failed to solve the problem so far, and although they have not abandoned their efforts, they have hit a brick wall, as you say here on Earth. Roughly one hundred and fifty of your years ago, our Ancient Council adopted a radical new strategy. Until then, our focus on the problem had been inwards. It was believed that our analytical approach would ultimately lead to a solution. But eventually the situation reached a point where we had to consider the possibility that our existing genetic technology was at a dead end."
Two nervous young waitresses approached with their drinks. After they had left, the ambassador continued. "So it was decided to extend our search outwards. Expeditions have been sent out to locate and contact other races. Our task is to study promising civilisations, from afar at first, to identify genetic characteristics or technology which may offer us the insight we are lacking.
"As you may imagine, our voyages of discovery have been fascinating. Some galaxies are teeming with life; others are almost devoid of it. What you call the Milky Way falls into the latter category, which is probably why your race h
as believed for so long that you are alone in the universe.
"In some of the more populous galaxies, neighbouring races have already contacted each other, mostly for the purposes of trade, but there have been some who have set out on expeditions of conquest. Those expeditions have tended to fail; defeated mainly by the vast distances of space. So far we have found no other mode of space travel as sophisticated as our star drive. We have been very careful to restrict this technology to races which share our peaceful values. The last thing we want is to facilitate interstellar warfare."
It occurred to David that, given its history, humanity was the last race which should be gifted such technology. The ambassador paused to sip some water and Ko spoke for the first time.
"The ambassador digresses from the subject at hand. We have already expressed our wish to study the family system of your race. However that is not the only thing which has led us to your planet. There are two aspects of your society which are very advanced for a race at your stage of development. One is your weaponry. The power and variety of the arms you have developed is morbidly impressive and we will seek assurances as to its non-deployment off-planet before allowing you access to the star drive. However that is a discussion for another day.
"The other aspect is your genetic technology, at the forefront of which is your company, Dr Herald. Your speciality, artificial genes which are designed specifically for individuals, is a field which our analysts have traditionally ignored. It has always been believed that artificially altering the genetic characteristics of individuals cannot have an effect on the race as a whole. However our Ancient Council has instructed us to explore the potential of any alternatives we encounter. Your technique represents such an alternative and we have resolved to ask you to develop an artificial gene for us."
David was surprised. He had wondered at first whether it was the Forever Gene which had drawn the interest of the ambassador. He had dismissed the idea immediately, assuming that the Faerie Folk's genetic technology was far more advanced than anything on Earth. The geneticist in him, intrigued by the prospect of studying the genome of extra-terrestrial beings, quickly overcame his surprise. "I must say, I don't know what I expected you to propose, but it wasn't that." He looked from the ambassador to Ko and back again. "I am not sure if we can help you, but we will sure give it a try."
The ambassador smiled his disconcerting smile. "Thank you, Dr Herald, I was hoping you would say that. But before you make a commitment, there is a qualification to our request. For some time, an unpopular theory has been gaining credibility among our analysts. Ko is one of its chief proponents. According to this theory, our increasing longevity is at the root of the problem. On our travels we have observed that shorter-lived peoples tend to reproduce efficiently. These findings have added a great deal of weight to the theory, weight that we can no longer ignore. The logical conclusion drawn by the theory is that we must reverse our longevity." He paused. "I'm sure you can understand why the whole idea is unpopular.
"The only way for us to test this theory is to reduce the lifespan of a test subject to ascertain whether this affects the subject's ability to reproduce. We have certain legal and ethical barriers which prevent our analysts from even developing such technology, let alone experimenting with it. The only way for us to carry out the research is to ask someone else to do it for us."
He paused and glanced meaningfully around the table. "You have already developed technology to slow down the aging process in individuals. We want you to use the same technology to speed it up; a Forever Gene in reverse."
David was astonished. Pris and Chunky's expressions mirrored his reaction.
"Of course, we do not expect to benefit from your company's resources for nothing. We are more than willing to make payment. We have no money, but we are prepared to offer you what we have already used to recompense the Mongolian and Thai governments for the expenses they have incurred on our behalf; our building technology. We are aware of your company's programme of expansion around the world and propose that we build you a hard-water facility in the city of your choice. We believe that this will be mutually beneficial. Your company will gain a great deal of media exposure, and the credibility of our technology will be enhanced by its association with a commercial enterprise of your stature."
David didn't know what to say. There were so many things to consider, not least of which was the reputation of the Factory. How would public opinion view a gene which shortened life instead of extending it? The process itself would be relatively simple. The subject's DNA would be mapped and a synthetic gene manufactured in the usual way. Then, instead of programming it to erase the memory of the age control genes, it could be programmed to simulate additional memory. The age control genes would be stimulated into acting at a faster rate.
He looked at Chunky and could almost see the same thoughts crossing his mind.
Pris had a completely different reaction. "Are you saying that you want us to shorten the life of one of your people, ambassador? Who would that be?"
CHAPTER FIVE
She hadn't expected to become so attached to the Grand Palace. In the mornings, before its gates were opened to the public, she explored its ornately decorated buildings and serenely beautiful gardens and courtyards. Solitude was something she hadn't experienced much in her life and she found herself enjoying it. It was oddly soothing to focus on surroundings which were so complex in their detail and yet evoked such simple feelings of pleasure. She had never thought of herself as introspective, but the six weeks she had spent living in the Palace had given her a new perspective.
The King himself had taken her on a tour of the inner court, an area not open to the public and rarely seen by anyone outside the royal family. The intricate paintings and tapestries covering the walls and ceilings of the immaculately kept rooms fascinated her. She had never seen anything like it. At first glance the congested depictions of diverse gods and goddesses, angels and demons, heroes and heroines, seemed chaotic, but when she studied any particular scene she found that she was able to follow the story encapsulated within it. The King was so impressed by her interest that he ordered she be given access to the inner court whenever she wished.
This morning, when she left the guest quarters, it was raining lightly. She didn't mind the rain; it was refreshing in the unrelenting heat of the city. As usual, none of the others showed any interest in where she was going so early. In the beginning she had spoken to some of them about her observations, but had been met with blank expressions. Now she was secretly happy to be left alone whenever she went out.
She headed towards her favourite place within the Palace grounds; the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. The temple itself was a complex of shrines, spires, statues and even an ancient library. Before entering the temple she headed for the part of its outer wall she had visited yesterday. The entire wall was covered with elaborate painted illustrations of myth and legend and she had set herself the task of studying the entire epic, section by section. So far, she had made it almost half-way round.
After poring over the day's chosen section, she walked around to the entrance which faced the back of the chapel housing the Emerald Buddha itself. By then the attendant had arrived and she bowed gracefully to him. He returned the bow. Although they had exchanged this greeting almost every day for weeks, they had never said a word to each other. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, she felt that they had developed a deeply personal connection.
She passed through the entrance, dwarfed by the demonic statues guarding it, and moved along the covered corridor along the side of the chapel. She turned the corner and went up the steps and through the front door, which the attendant always left open for her. Once inside she stopped, arrested by the majesty of the Emerald Buddha among the soaring columns of the cavernous hall. It sat cross-legged on a massive gilded altar, attended by tall golden angels arrayed around its base. She had seen it many times, but didn't think that she would ever become tired of the spectacle. Whene
ver she came into the chapel she noticed something new. This morning she was struck by the way the large eyes and sculpted cheek-bones of the angels mirrored the features of her own face.
Deeply engrossed, she was surprised to hear someone approaching and even more surprised when she turned around to see that it was the attendant. He hadn't approached her before and she found herself hoping that he wouldn't speak, as if that would somehow destroy the purity of the relationship between them.
"Someone has come with a message for you", he said in a disappointingly nasal voice.
She followed him back to the entrance, to find one of Ko's analysts waiting impatiently. The attendant had obviously not been prepared to afford him the same privilege of entry that she enjoyed.
"The ambassador wishes to see you immediately," he said and hurried away without waiting for her.
When they had arrived in Bangkok to begin work on the housing project, the Thai government had faced the thorny problem of where to house the Faerie Folk. Their safety and privacy could not be guaranteed at a hotel, but a more secure location, such as an army base, would not have accommodation of the desired quality. It was the King of Thailand who had come up with the ideal venue; the Grand Palace. It was one of the most secure areas in Bangkok. No ordinary Thai would dream of violating its sanctity and any foreigner who tried would find that its serene beauty hid a ring of steel it was unwise to test. Within its grounds was the magnificent Boromphiman Mansion, which was sometimes used to accommodate visiting dignitaries. Its large, airy rooms were perfect for the Faerie Folk.
Vi walked back to the mansion slowly, resenting the intrusion into her time of contemplation, and wondering why. Coming from a society which valued co-operative behaviour above all else, it was unusual for individuals to develop rebellious tendencies. Her companions were completely disinterested in their surroundings and concerned only with carrying out their allotted responsibilities. Perhaps that was the problem. She didn't have much to do with the building project itself and found herself carrying out mundane tasks, such as arranging meetings for the ambassador. It would make more sense for her to be sent back to the facility in Mongolia. Perhaps that was why she had been summoned. She tried not to think about how it would feel to have to leave the Palace.