“Precisely.”
The term conscription was a misnomer. Enslavement’s more accurate, thought Damon. And Jackson was wrong, didgee conscription wasn’t a New Atlantian practice, it was an Evvie Guild practice. It just so happened that New Atlantian laws had been massaged to allow the Guild surrogacy program.
It boiled down to this. Evvies had a problem. Despite their genetic superiority, they were a distinct minority across the globe. Yes, in many countries like New Atlantia, they held sway over government policies, but they were still a minority bloc. And relative to the populations of other castes, evvies were in decline. They just didn’t breed fast enough to keep up with the lesser castes.
This dynamic was largely driven by evvie’s lack of motivation to breed. They had everything they wanted — wealth, power, beauty, prowess. And given they aged at a much slower rate, their prime breeding years were two-to-three times longer than other humans. So, why rush? That was how many evvies viewed the situation. And a subset of evvies bred outside of their caste, like Rodrick Hearns’ mating with blenda-caste Sarah, which further lessened the pool of purebred evvies.
The Evvie Guild viewed the situation as a threat to maintaining evvie societal dominance. Therefore, the cooperative devised a plan to address the issue — surrogacy. By dramatically expanding the pool of wombs carrying evvie babies, the Guild believed they could reverse the caste’s diminishing population proportion.
Since the only way to create an evvie was by inbreeding evvie females and males, surrogacy in the Guild’s mind meant finding non-evvie females to carry evvie embryos. And of the lower castes, only didgee females were deemed suitable.
Damon recalled the many articles that noted the illogic of the Guild’s focus on didgee women. DNA of a surrogate unrelated to the embryo being carried did not pass to the embryo. The surrogate’s DNA was filtered from the bloodstream before reaching the umbilical cord, which meant a woman from any caste could carry an evvie embryo.
But the Guild didn’t believe in taking chances. The people of other castes, including nobles like Damon, had gene-replacement impurities, and the Guild wanted no risk of introducing gutations into evvie DNA. Since didgees, by their very nature, had no replacement genes in their DNA, the Guild viewed them as the least risky surrogates.
So, Guild members sought out didgee females from around the world to come to New Atlantia to serve as surrogates. The women were promised large sums and other perks, but often found themselves forced into long-term arrangements with benefits that diminished or disappeared over time. Beacon viewed this practice as state-sanctioned human trafficking and their rescues were often targeted to liberate enslaved surrogates.
Damon found the practice distasteful, too, but so long as Guild members abided by New Atlantian laws regarding the care and compensation of didgee surrogates, Damon was compelled to uphold the laws. That meant stopping Beacon from liberating conscripts.
Returning his attention to Jackson’s comments, Damon asked, “I’m still lost, Beau. What possible connection could there be between Billy’s DNA and didgee conscription?”
“What would be the quickest way to end the practice?” Jackson asked in reply. Before Damon could answer, Jackson said, “Birth a contaminated evvie, an evvie with gutations.”
“But Billy’s not an evvie. Yeah, his dad is, but his mom is a blenda. That made Billy a blenda too until he was diagnosed with JS.”
“All true,” said Jackson. “Which brings us back to Billy’s violet eyes. Or close to his violet eyes. I discovered some strange protein binds in a gene next to Billy’s VE gene. The binds appear very weak. In fact, in one of his previous DNA tests, that gene was identified as a gutation, but not on his most recent test.”
Damon considered this latest piece of information. In his experience, it was not unusual to see disparities in reported gutations between different DNA tests. A gutation might arise very close, timewise, with the administration of a DNA test, and then be repaired by innate cellular DNA “repairmen” shortly afterward. DNA tests were also known to generate gutation false positives on occasion. But from what Jackson was saying, it sounded as if this gutation was repaired but not very well, making it prone to become a gutation again.
“You think Beacon found these weak binds you’re talking about?”
“I think it’s possible. Yes.”
“Okay, so if they did, how could they weaponize it?”
“The replacement gene in question was introduced around the same time as the VE gene, the 2070s. It is one of several genes that regulate skin tone. It was created as a vanity-oriented therapy for adults of light complexions and boosts their melanin receptors, allowing them to tan with greater ease. Many Anglo evvies, nobles and blendas carry this replacement gene. It is considered one of the most stable replacement genes ever created. It rarely gutates, even among people in lower castes. The fact it gutated in Billy is part of what makes him such an outlier.”
Damon was finally able to follow the bouncing ball. Beacon was losing its war against the Guild to prevent conscription. They rescued far too few didgee surrogates to offset the growing numbers of new ones. What better way to bring a screeching halt to conscription than by contaminating evvie embryos carried by didgee surrogates? But Damon saw two problems with Jackson’s theory.
“Gutations don’t occur until adolescence starts, Beau. Any embryo Beacon injected this gene into wouldn’t gutate for ten or more years. That wouldn’t really help them. They want to stop conscriptions now.”
“Exactly. That’s why they’d also inject the didgee surrogate with the same gutation. Most surrogates are teenagers. They’re the most vulnerable, easiest to recruit for the Guild. Therefore, the weak protein binds in Billy’s gene would likely gutate very quickly in the surrogate. Beacon would do this to create the impression the surrogate passed the gutation to the embryo.”
“But a surrogate’s DNA doesn’t pass to embryos unless the surrogate is also the mother.”
“Correct, but recall evvies’ paranoia about genetic purity and remember the goal of a terror campaign is to strike fear in the hearts of adversaries.”
“Okay, I get you now. But couldn’t Beacon choose any gutation to contaminate evvie embryos? Meaning, why would they need this specific gene of Billy’s to accomplish their goal?”
“They absolutely could. But this particular gutation produces a strikingly visible effect, large purplish-reddish blotches on the skin. From a terrorism standpoint, it would be very effective in branding contaminated evvies.”
“Got you. Scare the bejesus out of evvies with a ‘scarlet letter’ gutation in a didgee surrogate and an evvie embryo, causing the Guild to shut down the surrogate program in an instant.”
Damon struggled to believe Beacon, given its bleeding-heart mentality, would stoop to branding didgee surrogates and innocent evvie babies. On the other hand, Damon hadn’t believed the underground capable of orchestrating such elaborate rescues as they had the day before. They wanted Billy real bad. Then he thought of Takoda Wells and Yon Fujita, both didgees. Had they tired of seeing women of their caste oppressed, of rescuing the odd conscript here and there? Was this all about taking their mission to the next level? What were a dozen marred didgees in the grand scheme of things if they could prevent thousands of future conscriptions? It was another thread Damon now intended to pull when he met them.
National Gene Center
Minneapolis, Lakelands Province, New Atlantia
Dr. Neville Thompson was all smiles when the NASF officer entered the conference room. The tall black man with a long mane of white hair identified himself to Takoda as Maj. Damon Spiers. He was accompanied by another officer, Sgt. Cassidy Willow, a Steel-class android. Her mannerisms were as fluid as Takoda’s more refined Athena-class Ellie, right down to her warm handshake and smile.
What the New Atlantians lacked in compassion toward gutants, they made up for in their craftmanship of androids. In Takoda’s opinion, they manufactured the most re
alistic humanoid androids in the world. No two of any class looked the same…unless ordered as clones. And unlike many competing android producers in other countries, the New Atlantia’s state-controlled Hutech, Ltd., offered a vast array of customizations.
Take Willow, for instance. Takoda noticed small freckles on her nose and a solitary freckle on her right earlobe. When she smiled, dimples appeared and her cheeks blushed as if she was a tad bashful. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and one eyebrow was just a smidgen higher than the other.
Beyond the manufactured customizations, Hutech andros were also adept at further humanizing their appearance based on observed human proclivities. Willow was no exception. She wore a necklace and rings, her fingernails were painted and her lips were coated a glossy pink. Takoda could even detect perfume.
Overall, the combination of manufactured and improvised customizations gave Willow a disarming appearance. However, Takoda harbored no illusions. Willow was all business. All Steel andros were.
As he watched Willow shake Yon’s hand and take a seat at the table, Takoda hoped he and Yon could maintain level demeanors, overtly and biometrically. The android’s array of surveillance sensors would surely scan them throughout the meeting.
With the introductions completed, Spiers said, “We appreciate your meeting with us. I’m sure you’re all very busy. We’ll do our best to keep this short and sweet.”
“No trouble at all,” said the beaming Neville. “We are more than happy to help. I’m curious, though. What’s your interest in this particular patient?”
Good question, Neville! Let’s see what the stormtrooper says to that! Takoda turned to Spiers and watched him give Neville a nonchalant shrug as he answered the question.
“Let’s just say it’s related to a situation we’ve been asked to look into.”
“Oh, I see. What kind of situation?” Neville asked. “Or is that not an appropriate question?”
Spiers’ smile was friendly, as was the tone of his reply to Neville. “I wish I could share more with you, Doctor, but it’s kind of hush-hush at the moment. I’m sure you can understand.”
“Of course, of course,” said Neville. “I apologize if I overstepped—”
“No need to apologize. It’s an understandable and reasonable question. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask some questions about Billy Hearns.”
“By all means, proceed.”
As Takoda observed the two men talking, he thought, so, that’s how NASF is going to play it…a hush-hush situation. Takoda had expected the officers to take a more confrontational approach.
“Billy was euthanized here yesterday. Correct?” Spiers asked.
Takoda watched Neville’s head bob like a puppy dog begging for a treat.
“Yes, yes. That’s correct,” Neville said. “Dr. Wells performed the procedure. Dr. Fujita assisted.”
“I see.” Spiers stroked his stubbled chin and turned to Takoda. “Dr. Wells, you were also the signatory of Billy’s euthanization designation document, were you not?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Takoda said.
“And according to the document, the reason given for the euthanization was the presence of gutations linked to the development of Jakali Syndrome.”
“Right, again.”
Spiers opened a portfolio case and flipped through some pages until he arrived at one he examined more closely. After completing his review, he asked Neville if it would be possible to display Billy’s designation document on the conference room’s holonode.
Neville happily complied and seconds later, an image of the document’s first page floated above the center of the table. Spiers stood and circled a line item on the document image with his finger, leaving a fluorescent green swoosh around the floating data. “These codes, here, identify the specific gutations that led to your diagnosis, correct?”
“Correct,” said Takoda. “By New Atlantian law, when a child’s DNA contains three or more of the twelve mutations linked to Jakali Syndrome, the child is deemed at high-risk for developing the condition by the time he or she reaches puberty and we are bound by the same law to designate the child for euthanization.”
“Seems kind of rash, doesn’t it?” Spiers looked back and forth between Takoda and Yon. “I mean, three out of twelve seems kind of premature?”
“I’d call it aggressive, not rash,” said Yon. “Other countries with euthanization policies don’t require euthanization until five or six of the gutations have appeared. Statistically speaking, though, there’s a seventy-five percent certainty of developing JS once three of the twelve gutations are detected. At six, there’s a ninety percent certainty.”
Willow entered the conversation. “When you say it’s aggressive, you overlook the fact that most gutants don’t exhibit six jakali gutations until the age of twelve, a year or two into puberty, depending on the child’s gender. The countries that wait until six gutations risk the pre-jakali mating. New Atlantia’s policy prevents mating risk. As a result, it is actually more conservative.”
Takoda saw red rising in Yon’s cheeks.
“You view it your way, I’ll view it mine,” said Yon.
Spiers used his finger to underline the gutation codes on the document. “So, Billy had four gutations in his last test. I’m told these four gutations don’t often appear early in the development of JS, but they did in Billy. It made him somewhat unique compared to other pre-jakalis. Is that true?”
The major was playing games and it was starting to irritate Takoda. “I suppose that’s right.”
Nodding, Spiers said, “If I’m not mistaken, your daughter is, or was, a jakali.”
Okay, now you’re crossing the line. “My daughter is irrelevant to this conversation, Major.”
“Here, here,” said Neville. “That question does seem unrelated and inappropriate.”
“My apologies,” said Spiers. He looked from Neville to Takoda. “My son was euthanized here a couple of years ago. JS diagnosis. You probably don’t remember him. His name was Dylan.”
“I’m sorry, Major. I don’t,” Takoda said. Where’s he going with this?
“Yeah, I guess I get that. I don’t remember half the perps I’ve caught. And you, geez, you’ve put thousands of kids to sleep. Same with you and you.” Spiers pointed at Yon and Neville. “Guess at some point, you stop thinking about the lives you’re ending.”
Ah, now I get it, thought Takoda. He’s trying to rile us up, get us emotional so we’ll lose our cool…it’s working!
“And your point is?” asked Yon, her voice cold.
Spiers shrugged. “No point. Just an observation. Going back to Billy’s unusual gutations, I noticed there’s one missing from the designation document. In his second test, the one before his JS diagnosis, there was another gutation that doesn’t show up on this form. How come, Dr. Wells?”
“Which one are you referencing, Major?” Takoda asked. “Billy had a few other gutations, but none of them were associated with JS. So, they don’t appear on the designation form.”
“Ah, so only JS gutations show up on the form,” Spiers said.
To Takoda, Spiers’ expression looked like that of a man who finally understood some great riddle. It was an act. Spiers was toying with him. An NASF major would know damn well what kind of information was appropriate to include on a designation form. Takoda took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Major. Unrelated gutations are not recorded on the designation form. They only appear on the individual DNA test result reports.”
“Got it,” Spiers said. “Let’s move on. Tell me about VE011.”
As Takoda frowned at Spiers, Yon answered. “It’s a replacement gene. In concert with certain other eye color-related genes, it produces violet-colored eyes.”
“So, Billy Hearns had violet-colored eyes. Interesting.”
Neville intervened. “Now, look here, Major. What’s this all about? Your questions, and your tone, have a distasteful edge to them. If you have a concern about our paperwork
or procedures, please be upfront about it. We have nothing to hide.”
It was good to see Neville take a stand. Takoda had been concerned the sometimes-weaselly evvie would try to distance himself from the inquisition. Then again, unlike Takoda and Yon, Neville didn’t know why NASF was poking around Billy’s euthanization document. As soon as he found out, Takoda expected his support to take a nosedive.
Ignoring Neville’s protest, Spiers said, “Let’s take a step back. I’d like to pick your brains about VE011 in general terms. It was a design feature introduced back in the latter half of the twenty-first-century, correct?”
Spiers’ eyes were focused on Takoda, but it was Neville who replied. “Yes, it originated in Japan. I don’t recall the precise year, but it wasn’t long before the necro pandemic of 2082.”
“It’s funny you mention that, Doctor,” Spiers said. “Isn’t it true this VE gene got a lot of attention as the potential cause of the pandemic? Matter of fact, didn’t the uproar over its potential role in the outbreak result in the banning of the feature?”
As Takoda recalled it, the case for blaming the VE gene for the outbreak had hinged on two circumstantial observations; there had been a disproportionate percentage of necro victims who possessed the gene modification, and the DNA analysis of the VE necro victims revealed a gutation to the gene. Ergo, the health officials in charge of stemming the outbreak concluded there had been a flaw in the VE011 gene that damaged nearby genes in the same chromosome that regulated skin melanin production and skin immune response.
It had been too simplistic a conclusion in Takoda’s opinion, but in the hysteria of the pandemic, health officials ran with it. Only after the worst was over did geneticists begin to question whether VE011 was really the culprit. But by that point, nearly all countries had already banned the VE replacement gene, and the company that developed it voluntarily withdrew it from the market.
“You are right, Major,” said Takoda, “VE011 was labeled as the cause of the necro pandemic and banned. Unfairly so, as time has shown.”
The GODD Chip (The Unity of Four Book 1) Page 12