THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1)

by Dean, Warren

  The Faerie Folk had betrayed him.

  The Factory was finished.

  There was nothing he could do.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Katya glanced up through the domed roof of the hangar bay. No longer dwarfed by the imposing bulk of Emissary, planet Earth now dominated the spectacular star-scape. From her viewpoint the blue globe was half-lit and half-dark. She could almost see the dawn stealing across the heartland of Russia. Many of her countrymen would already be awake; farmers tending their herds in the early morning snow and denizens of Moscow and St Petersburg hurtling towards their office blocks in maglev trains.

  Her homeland was a tough place to live, even in the modern world, but lately she found herself thinking of it with something approaching fondness. Perhaps it was cabin fever; she had been on the Moon for seven months now. But she had done longer tours on other space stations, so it shouldn't bother her.

  Perhaps it was because of the subtle changes which had taken place in the dynamics of the moonbase since the Faerie Folk had departed. Some of the changes were favourable. One was that the military influence had dwindled significantly. The United Kingdom had replaced General Gordon as its delegation commander with an astrophysicist. Not Witherspoon, much to the relief of Hans Mattheus, but the eminent Dr Harry Hasper. According to the story Katya had heard, Witherspoon had been offered the position but had turned it down. The reason he gave was that Mattheus was 'a nightmare' to work with. Even Katya had laughed at that.

  More surprisingly, General Yashin had been recalled to Moscow a few weeks ago. No reasons were given. He had not been replaced so Katya had been promoted to commander of the Russian delegation. Unfortunately, the promotion had not been accompanied by an elevation in rank. Although command of the delegation had been what she had wanted in the beginning, she soon discovered that the position was more frustrating than rewarding. Generals Armitage and Chang remained very much in place and constantly reminded her that they outranked her. After stalking out of the umpteenth command conference fuming at their patronising attitude, she withdrew from the day to day running of the moonbase. Mattheus and Hasper didn't concern themselves with it, so why should she? In the absence of the Faerie Folk it was not much more than house-keeping anyway, and she decided that the generals were welcome to it.

  Instead, she focussed on what she regarded as her primary assignment; the study of the Faerie Folk's star charts. Before leaving, Analyst Ko had formulated a detailed training programme, which Katya and the other astronauts on the moonbase had spent the last three months following. Each delegation had supplied four astronauts, making up a rather unwieldy class of twenty. After a few early clashes over organisational issues, the sheer volume of the material to be studied forced them to put aside any personal or national differences. They had to co-operate or they would never be ready to use the star drive once it was ready.

  The challenge was that the Faerie Folk's star charts required a quantum leap in the way humans thought about space. The best exposition of the concepts involved came from Analyst Ko himself in an introductory lecture he had given them. She had watched a recording of the lecture a number of times, finding that his explanation of the basics helped her make sense of the complex mathematics required for accurate wormhole navigation.

  "The star charts you are familiar with are quite different to those we have now given you. We have been collecting data far longer than you have, so our charts contain much more information than yours. They cover vast zones of the universe that your instruments have not yet detected."

  Li-Chow, a Chinese taikonaut, had asked Ko what he meant by 'zones'.

  Adopting an air of thinly disguised irritation, which was his invariable response to any interruption, the analyst deigned to offer an explanation. "You have correctly observed that the universe is divided into galaxies; each galaxy itself made up of millions of star systems, nebulae and other astronomical objects, such as black holes. It is also correct that many of the galaxies are grouped together in clusters. However, what you have not yet discovered is that the clusters are grouped together in what we call zones, each of which contains billions of galaxies. All of the galaxies you have detected so far are within your local zone. What your instruments have led you to believe is the edge of the universe is just the edge of your zone. Beyond your zone are billions more. The distances between the zones are unimaginably vast, which is why your instruments have not been able to detect others."

  Katya and her fellow astronauts had been astonished. In a few sentences Ko had casually obliterated humanity's understanding of the size of the universe. But he hadn't finished.

  "We have visited and charted some of these zones. We have not given you all of our charts as we do not want to flood you with too much information at once. Your studies will be restricted to your local zone and its immediate neighbours.

  Li-Chow asked whether the Faerie Folk's star system was within any of the neighbouring zones.

  "Yes it is," Ko answered curtly. "Your will find its position on the chart of zone one."

  He signalled to an analyst standing within a nearby interface module. With a few flicks of his eyes and fingers, the analyst projected a large holograph into the room. Ko walked to the centre of the holograph and pointed out a tightly bunched conglomeration of galaxy clusters, each no larger than the head of a pin.

  "This is zone one. We have numbered the zones for identification purposes. The next nearest to ours is zone two, the next nearest zone three, and so on." He moved about within the holograph, indicating each numbered zone. "Your galaxy is within zone twenty-seven. However, we are getting ahead of ourselves."

  He signalled the analyst again and the holograph flickered, changing the scene to a small cluster of three galaxies. Katya recognised them instantly; the multi-armed Milky Way in the centre, the radial spiral of Andromeda, and the giant elliptical Centaurus A, wearing its distinctive radio jets like a halo.

  "This is your immediate neighbourhood of galaxies, which I will use to demonstrate the main difference between our star charts and yours."

  "All of the data you have amassed up until now has been collected from one place. Here." He used an elongated green finger to indicate the approximate position of Earth's solar system within the Milky Way. "And almost all of your data consists of telescopic images of light emitted by, and reflecting off, distant objects. As you already know, light travels faster than anything else in the universe."

  He paused and looked thoughtful. "Except for one thing, but that is a subject you needn't be concerned with now."

  Ignoring the raised eyebrows and wide-eyed looks exchanged by some of the astronauts at this astounding revelation, he looked up and continued. "You even use the speed of light as the basis for your ultimate measure of distance, which you call a light year. A light year is the distance light travels through space in one year. Light from your sun takes eight seconds to reach the Earth. A year later, the same light is approximately nine thousand billion kilometres away. The nearest star system to Earth, which you call Alpha Centauri, is four light years away. In other words, it takes four years for the light from Alpha Centauri to reach your telescopes. This means that all the information you have about Alpha Centauri is four years old when you receive it."

  Some of the astronauts fidgeted and began to lose interest. This was basic stuff.

  "Obviously, not much of galactic significance happens in four years. However, let us consider something much further away. The Galaxy you call Centaurus A is about thirteen million light years away. I am sure you will agree that a lot can happen in thirteen million years. There is a massive black hole at the centre of that galaxy and, as far as you know, the whole galaxy may have been swallowed up by now. Even if it hasn't, it must look very different now to what it looks like in your thirteen million year old pictures of it."

  Forester, a British astronaut, raised his hand politely before asking a question. "The fact that we can look into the distant past is what enables us to under
stand the evolution of the universe. Are you saying that we have been wasting our time?"

  "That is not the point I am making," snapped Ko testily. "Say you decide that your first interstellar destination will be Centaurus A. It will certainly be convenient to use the energy generated by its black hole to generate a wormhole. But what will you find when you arrive? How can you be sure that your course will not deliver you into a supernova which you didn't know was there?"

  Forester waved his hand again, but Ko cut him off. "You think that you can predict these things with mathematic equations? Maybe. But how can you be sure of your calculations? They have never been tested outside of your star system. It is all theory. Are you prepared to risk the crews of your star ships, not to mention the future of your race, on untested theory? And even if your calculations are accurate, there are random phenomena out there which can change the pattern of a galaxy without warning."

  Forester was persistent. "Can't we send unmanned probes ahead of the star ship to show us what is there?"

  Ko snorted dismissively. "You can, but it would take years, if not decades, to plot each voyage. Every time your probes report unfavourable conditions you would have to release the wormhole and generate another. You would be navigating by hit and miss. Not to mention the damage that will ensue when your wormhole happens to open in the middle of a supernova or black hole. No, if you wish to travel in space, you need more recent information. That is where our star charts come in."

  He gestured and the holograph flickered. The same galaxies remained, but were significantly altered in size and shape. Again, Ko focussed on Centaurus A.

  "We have been to Centaurus A and taken readings there. When we take readings, we send our instruments to various points in the galaxy through tiny wormholes. This enables us to chart a galaxy with what is, in galactic terms, very recent data. If you want to go to Centaurus A, this is the chart you need, not the thirteen million year old chart you have."

  Katya always terminated the recording at that point. The discussions which followed didn't add any clarity to the subject for her. Star charts are not like land maps on Earth. Land maps show you what you will find on every square kilometre of the surface of the planet. Star charts are like the night sky seen from Earth; vast areas of darkness peppered by pin-pricks of light. The pin-pricks are the destinations which are relatively safe to travel to; the areas of darkness are the uncharted regions where it is too risky to go.

  Star charts evolve as new destinations are added. Faerie Folk explorers identify potential new destinations from ordinary telescopic readings, travel to an established destination close by, and then send probes through wormholes to take readings. The new destination is then charted and becomes one of the pin-pricks.

  Katya reached the hatch to her quarters and put a hand to the recognition pad. She went in and threw herself onto the bunk. Her AVIC was programmed to automatically flip on a Russian news channel when she came in and she glanced up at the wall-screen to see what was making headlines. The picture showed a lengthy queue of talking, laughing people snaking along several city blocks in downtown Moscow. She sighed wearily. The media continued to be obsessed by the massive demand for what everyone was calling 'Faerie Blood'.

  Within a few days of the Faerie Folk's departure, the serum had been released worldwide by the world's pharmaceutical companies. Some of the marketing strategies were nothing short of bizarre. Early Personet ads proffered 'immunity from death'. A Peruvian company delighted in calling its product 'the serum of youth'. In Thailand, it came with a 'long life guarantee'. Katya imagined the company lawyers smiling smugly in the knowledge that, for the same reason that dead men tell no tales, dead men claim no warranties.

  At first, public response was tentative. The product was untested and its long term effects were unknown. Scare stories of potentially dreadful consequences abounded. They ranged from conspiracy theories; the Faerie Folk's hidden agenda of wiping out humanity, to horror stories; Faerie Blood kept you alive but didn't stop you from aging. Imagine living until you were nothing more than an emaciated skeleton?

  Then the serum received a shot in the arm from the most unlikely of sources. The United States' Food and Drug Administration carried out a comparison between Faerie Blood and the scientifically proven Forever Gene. In its report, the FDA came to the surprising conclusion that they were almost identical. The only significant difference between them was the method by which the synthetic genes were programmed. The Forever Gene was specifically programmed for each individual before it was implanted. This was an expensive and time consuming process. On the other hand, the Faerie Folk's serum automatically programmed and implanted the synthetic gene once it was injected into a person's blood stream. That was how it could be administered in a single dose and why it could be produced so cheaply.

  The United States government tried to suppress the report, but it was leaked to Personet reporters and went viral.

  With this inadvertent stamp of approval, the demand for Faerie Blood exploded. The numbers were so great that the pharmaceutical companies were able to sell doses for next to nothing and still make profits on a scale they had never experienced before. As more and more people were inoculated without any apparent ill effects, demand snowballed and the pharmaceutical companies couldn't keep up. As batches of the product were produced and released, they sold out within hours. Long queues formed whenever stock became available.

  The media fed the hysteria by keeping a running tally of the number of people inoculated. Most channels permanently displayed a digital counter which shot ever higher as more and more batches were released. The figure was already nearly two billion, and rising.

  The social and environmental impact of the phenomenon was not lost on the world's political and religious leaders. But the speed at which it happened caught them totally unprepared. The Forever Gene hadn't caused a problem as it could only be afforded by the very rich. Faerie Blood was so cheap that almost everyone on the planet could buy it.

  Governments desperately introduced a variety of laws designed to stop their citizens from being inoculated.

  In the United States, it was made compulsory for anyone who wanted Faerie Blood to undergo a rigorous medical examination first. The examination was expensive and its requirements were designed to make sure that almost no-one would qualify. The pharmaceutical companies challenged the law in the Supreme Court, which struck it down for being contrary to the right to life guaranteed in the Declaration of Independence. The Chinese and Indian governments reacted by banning Faerie Blood altogether. Within days, it was available on the black market in both countries and the pace of sales actually increased.

  The British government tried to tax it out of existence, setting massive surcharges on the price and on the profits of the local pharmaceutical companies. It was a big mistake. The official opposition instantly began a pro-Faerie Blood campaign and forced an election. Needless to say, the ruling party lost and the taxes were abolished.

  Katya grimaced at the excited babble of the Muscovites waiting in the queue. Faerie Blood had become the latest fad, unique in that it traversed the generations. Whole families waited together; grandparents, parents, children and grandchildren. She didn't bother to flip to other news channels; she knew they would be showing similar scenes in other cities around the world.

  The serum was also available on the moonbase and almost all of its personnel had already been inoculated. General Armitage had gone so far as to command all American personnel to do so. Katya still hadn't made up her mind about whether to have it or not. The thought of living indefinitely was unnerving, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what made her feel that way.

  Her 'mote chimed. She scowled and checked her 'link. If it was another query about equipment or stores... Thankfully, it wasn't, but it was almost as bad; it was a message from Hans Mattheus.

  When he had first arrived on the Moon, the garrulous young German had been courteous and friendly. Everyone liked him, except the other de
legation commanders whose authority he delighted in undermining at every opportunity. And even they respected him for his prodigious intellect. Although she always kept her cool reserve firmly in place when he was around, she secretly cheered his casual disregard of orders or rules he didn't think were sensible.

  She, of course, was at the other end of the likeability spectrum. She was perceived by all and sundry as cold and unapproachable; the quintessential ice queen. Any attempts to engage her in personal conversation invariably met with unyielding resistance. As a result, she had no friends on the moonbase. General Yashin had always treated her purely as a military subordinate. Some of the other astronauts respected her abilities and conversed with her professionally, but that was as far as it went.

  In her time on the Moon, only two people had been able to partially breach the veil of ice. One had been the Mongolian reporter Qara-Chinua, who Katya had instinctively recognised as a kindred spirit. Each of them was quietly efficient, fiercely independent and passionate in pursuit of what she believed in. The principal difference between them was that the reporter naturally inspired loyalty from the people who worked with her; a quality the cosmonaut seemed to lack. Soldiers followed Katya's lead in battle because of her tactical genius, but when the battle ended, so did their allegiance. Perhaps that was why she had reached a ceiling in her military career. Although they had not had many conversations beyond the regular interviews they conducted for Mongolia Today, Katya felt an unfamiliar pang of regret when Qara was recalled to Earth.

  The other person was Hans Mattheus, whose chief method of dealing with Katya's ironclad reserve was to pretend it wasn't there. With the departure of the Faerie Folk, she had been following the development of the star drive closely. She had a vested interest in the subject; her studies of the star charts would be superfluous if there were no means of putting them into practice.