*
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Static filled the screen, it's scratchy noise filling the small room. And then the voice started speaking. The voice that had haunted Alza's dreams. The voice that she could not disobey...
“Diary of Development, Day One,” said the voice, in a gravely, measured tone, “This recording will serve as a record of my efforts and successes, preserving them for future generations.”
Barsch and Alza leant in, trying to hear what was being said. “Firstly, for all of those who have challenged me in the past, I would like to state something: I do not hate humanity. In fact, you would probably be hard-pressed to find someone who loves humanity more than I. And it is precisely that love which has compelled me to begin this project. The humans of the past were fierce and imaginative creatures who could solve any problem that was placed in their path. Their power, their intellect, enabled them to accomplish anything, overcome anything. But things have changed... people have changed. Humanity has become weak... powerless... obsolete. Even now, their mistakes haunt us. In their vain goal of controlling the planet's future, they sacrificed their present. Their factories spewed death and decay into our air, while their toxins and waste ruined the forests and the seas.”
“And their attempts at stopping this destruction? Nothing but half-hearted plans that all ended in failure. So what did those humans, who had once stood so tall and proud, do when their precious world was dying? They ran and hid, in their Cryogenic Stations, safe and sound while the world around them continued to fester. And that is why I started this project, to cleanse that weakness from humanity, and return them to their full potential!”
Finally, the murky blackness of the screen changed into a crescendo of colour. The screen showed an image of the Gestation Room, which, for a moment, caused Barsch to turn around and look for the camera. But the image that they were seeing was old, and devoid of activity.
Once more, the voice spoke, “And so I began my research, searching for a way to remove that despicable weakness. But I quickly discovered that the weakness had been buried deeply, and that I could not remove it entirely... not without starting over, from the beginning. A new species, a fresh start, free from the mistakes of the past, and ready to embrace the future. And, with my goal defined, I set to work, on creating a new kind of man... homo novus! These new humans will correct the mistakes of their predecessors, and accomplish what they could not!”
In the video, a figure suddenly entered the field of view. His back was turned towards the camera, obscuring his features.
Undeterred, the voice continued, “Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan. My efforts in creating an entirely new species from scratch met problem after problem, until at last, I was forced to abandon it. But then, while going through my old research notes, a thought occurred to me: why not simply improve what already existed? My work on Project Seraphim had given me the necessary experience, and most of the machinery could be re-purposed from what I already owned.”
In the video, the man held up a vial of greenish-blue liquid. In its centre was a tiny blob of matter. Using an input valve, the man placed the contents of the vial directly into the gestation pod. The blob-encased liquid quickly merged with its new surroundings.
“One day, my children will remember me as the man who changed the world. And it all begins here, with a single cell. Using one of my contacts, I was able to procure a viable specimen, from which I extracted and sequenced it's entire genome. The human female had already expired, but I had retrieved what was important. Using the genome, and my equipment, I set about altering the genetic code, in an effort to remove the inherent weaknesses found within. After many failures and set-backs, I succeeded in altering the base genetic structures. Without delay, I implanted the manipulated gene sequence into a cloned egg which I had previously blanked. After which, it was a simple matter to build a gestation chamber which would accommodate the altered egg and nurture it's growth. I used a liquid growth medium to simulate the placenta. Once the fertilized egg was placed within the pod, I immediately set to work on creating the Second.”
Alza, Barsch and Kingston watched transfixed, as the blob in the centre of the pod began to squirm and change. The genetically manipulated egg -for that was what it was- experienced a rapid phase of development, dividing and growing with a speed that seemed superhuman. The video sped up, showing the zygote become an embryo, and then a foetus. Months passed in seconds, as the foetus matured, becoming more and more human. The child grew and grew, passing it's nine month due date in a flash. However, instead of freedom, it remained in the liquid-filled pod, knowing nothing of the outside world.
Eventually, the voice began to speak once more, “Diary of Development, Day Five thousand, seven hundred and fifty. The child, whose DNA was taken from the specimen labelled ALZA00971, has continued to grow without incident. Her white hair was unexpected, but such things are bound to occur when the manipulation of an entire genome is the goal. I have chosen today, fifteen years and nine months since she was created, as the day of her release. It has been a hard time for me, with nothing to occupy my time, and only my Daughter and the Second as company. However, with every day that passed, I knew that I only grew closer to achieving my dream of a perfect species.”
The tank now contained a perfectly formed human being, complete with long, white hair and pale skin. Skill in the foetal position, yet unmistakable in identity. ALZA00971... Alza... now lay in the pod, asleep and unaware. Her eyes were closed, but she was not asleep... not completely. Her fingers moved through the viscous liquid, occasionally brushing the hardened glass that kept her prisoner. With a fluid movement, the man turned to the computer and entered a command. Moments later, a rushing sound could be heard emanating from the pod, as the liquid began to drain away. The girl in the tank, Alza, slowly drifted to the bottom. When all of the violet liquid had drained away, the outer shell of the pod slid back, allowing the man access to the helpless girl.
“Beginning physical and mental assessment. Firstly, auditory and spatial awareness.”
The man on the screen approached the unconscious girl, and even though the real Alza was safe and sound beside him, Barsch felt a strong desire to protect the girl. The man in the video began calling out to the girl, saying, in quiet, yet firm tones, “Daughter, daughter, it is time for your awakening.”
Over and over he called, until at last his efforts bore fruit. Slowly, the girl began to awaken, her weak limbs thrashing in the slush of what had once been a man-made womb. On the fifth call, the girl opened her eyes, her violet, glowing eyes. Barsch heard the man in the video gasp, before exclaiming, “Remarkable! Full pigment transformation. Perhaps it is a type of Albinism? Or perhaps... it is something more?”
Undeterred by the girl's snow-white hair or violet eyes, the man grew closer. With a firm hand, he helped the girl -Alza- to her feet. She stood still for several seconds, her eyes trying to take in everything all at once. It was clear that this was too much for her to handle, but that did not deter the man.
“The First of my new species, the First homo novus, was a complete success. She performed well above average in all of the stimulatory and mental tests, easily surpassing all records made by mere humans.”
In the video, the man had brought in a chair and table for the young girl. With a bevy of flash cards, educational holograms and reflex exercises, the man tested the girl's abilities. With each success the man accelerated the intensity and difficulty, until Alza was solving problems and performing tasks normally suited for only the most gifted of humans.
“It was then, while I was carrying out the tests, that I began to notice it. The power that slept within the First. I did not know where it had come from, but I suspected that it had been lying dormant in the human genome for thousands of years, and that my manipulations had somehow unlocked it. Of course, the possibility also exists that I unknowingly created it during the manipulation process, as a result of hundreds of gene
s being used in new ways. In either case, I will have to wait until the next batch is ready, before I can investigate further.”
Barsch watched as the Alza in the video began telekinetically levitating the parts of a particularly difficult puzzle. Holding them in the air, she spun and rotated the wooden pieces, fitting them together with ease. Once the puzzle was complete, she lowered it gently to the table, an blank look on her pretty face. For a normal, human child, such an accomplishment would have resulted in a congratulatory hug and perhaps a reward, but for Alza, the victory meant nothing. The man seemed to agree, as he handed her another, harder puzzle to solve.
“Subject ALZA00971 seems to take solace in being referred to as my daughter, a most curious trait. Perhaps some remnant of her past life as a human? I will have to look into it when I have some free time. While the First's development has been extraordinary, the Second's has been exponential. He had developed far faster than expected, and has achieved a level of physical and mental perfection that no human could have dreamed of. Today, I will pit them against each other, to determine if the Second performs well against one of his own kind.”
Once more, the video changed, now showing a portion of the training room. Even though it would be some time before Barsch and Alza would enter it -resulting in much of its destruction- the room had seen better days. Flames roared along the tiled floor, trailing from one end of the room to the other. The fires burned with an unnatural, whitish hue, which had melted the indestructible tiles into malformed blobs.
Alza stood beside one of the flame-lines, holding her arm to her side. Blood fell from her cut forehead, and it was obvious that her arm had been seriously burnt. Barsch wanted to weep at the sight, but he knew that Alza would be alright in the end. The Alza in the video took a step forward, as she raised her uninjured arm in the direction of her attacker.
A second later, a massive gust of wind rose from off-screen and, with an audible thump, smashed into Alza. The bloodied and burnt girl was lifted off of her feet and thrown towards the distant wall, which she impacted with another solid thump. The man appeared from an unseen vantage point, striding towards Alza while shaking his head.
“Another failure. The First, after fifty battles, has never once managed to defeat the Second. It seems that her usefulness is less than I originally thought, although there is one thing that she can do for me... regardless of her inequalities. Although I have collected a decent amount of data on her viability, I still do not know how her model will fare in the outside world. Here, in this protected place, she is limited, but out there, in the decaying world beyond these walls, perhaps her destiny will become clear. She will be my scout, my prototype... the forerunner for her species. The knowledge I gain from her journey will go towards improving the next batch of homo novus.”
In the video, Barsch could hear as the man told Alza that she had been assigned to a vital mission: to wander the planet, testing her limits and documenting her failures. When she had gathered enough data, she would return to him, so that he might retrieve it from her. When he was finished with his explanation, he took her by the arm -which had already begun to heal- and led her away.
“After supplying her with a new set of clothes, I erased her memories, in order to limit my influence on her performance. She was to be a clean slate, upon which the world would write in fire and blood, telling of her hardships and victories. Of her time spent here, I left only two things: firstly, her mission of wandering the land and returning to me, hidden in her sub-conscious; and secondly, her undying, unquestioning loyalty to me, which would manifest when we were reunited. With her 'programming' complete, I accompanied her to the entrance, and sent her off. If she returned, it would be proof that my new species were strong enough to survive on this polluted world. If she did not... then I would simply improve my formula, and try again. In either case, ALZA00971 has become the foundation of my new species. And now, with her gone, and only the Second to accompany me, I wait...”
The video showed Alza walking up towards the exit, a blank stare on her pale face. Her eyes were empty, a far cry from the Alza that now sat in their midst. In the final frame, before the video faded to black, Barsch caught a glimpse of something in the background. In the shadows below the stairwell, beside the shrouded man, were a pair of glowing, blood-curling, fear-inducing, crimson eyes.
Barsch recoiled at the sight, which snapped his attention back to reality. In the bright-lit room, where there had once been a band of unlikely companions, there now stood four strangers. Alza was still looking at the blank monitor, an equally blank look on her face. It was unnerving how much she now looked like the Alza from the video. Beside her, Kingston had turned his body away, ashamed of what he had just seen. Maloch, ever the silent, stoic member, was shocked. He should not have been so affected, but his forbidden emotions had come with a price: he could now feel betrayal.
For many, long minutes, no one spoke. In fact, even if they had wanted to, they had been rendered incapable of speech. Barsch felt cold, as if he had just been doused with freezing water, which had passed through his skin and had gone directly into his heart. He could not comprehend what he had seen, even though he knew in his frozen heart that it was the truth.
Alza was not who he had thought? It was more than that. Alza was not even human? It was more than that. Alza had been made by the very man they had been sent to stop? Still, it was more than that. In that moment, what truly confused and angered Barsch, was not that Alza had been created in a tube, it was that Kingston had known the whole time, and had not told him.
“You knew?” he asked, the coldness in his chest manifesting in his words.
Kingston, did not turn around, so Barsch reached forward and grabbed hold of his coat. With a force that should never have been directed at the elderly, Barsch spun him, until the hermit met his eyes. Immediately, Kingston lowered his gaze, his guilt and remorse weighing his heart -and body- down.
“I suspected... I feared... I thought, that she was not like us. But it was only a hunch! An unverified hypothesis, which I desperately hoped would be proven wrong. Professor Valmann had told me about Project Seraphim, and it's goal of creating the perfect human through genetic manipulation. But, even then, I believed it to be a thing of the past. Project Seraphim ended with the Zeta Incident, and gene manipulation was banned as a result. All of the research notes, the data on genome alterations, everything, was supposed to have been destroyed. Even Professor Valmann only knew bits and pieces, most of which were rumours and speculation!”
Barsch released the old man, who had once seemed so kind, so gentle. “From what Professor Valmann had told me, subjects of Project Seraphim had showed remarkable, almost superhuman abilities, along with physical anomalies.”
“Like white hair. Or violet eyes.” Barsch tried not to look at ALZA00971.
“Yes. But there were also some side-effects that were... less desirable. Some subjects were said to have lost all ability to display emotion... while others... lost control of their emotions entirely. Psychopathic rages, homicidal tendencies... and the death of their most stable subject, led to the project being shut down. So when I saw Alza destroy that re-mech outside of the medical station...”
“You thought that she was one of the remaining Project Seraphim subjects.”
“But it did not make sense to me at the time, as all evidence of Project Seraphim was supposed to have been destroyed, many years before I was born. I hoped that I was wrong, and that there was another reason for Alza's abilities. I thought that perhaps she had just naturally acquired them, or that her DNA had just happened to mutate in a particular way... but in the end, I was just deceiving myself. I did not want it to be true, so I convinced myself that I was wrong. I did not want it to be true, because I did not want you to suffer. I saw that you thought of her as a normal, albeit strange, human... and it would have broken my heart to tell you otherwise. I'm sorry for not telling you, Barsch m'boy. Can you ever forgive me?”
Bar
sch looked at the old man, who had lied to him, and the... girl, sitting at the table. Everything was too much to bear. What would he have done in Kingston's situation? Would he have told the truth, and potentially alienated Alza forever, or would he have said nothing, and held onto his foolish delusions. He did not know, and he doubted he ever would. But in that moment, in that chaotic, nonsensical moment, he knew that his feelings did not matter.
“It is not my forgiveness that you need,” he said, gesturing to the empty-eyed Alza. “This whole time, you knew that she was desperately searching for any hints about her past, and yet you kept the truth from her. And even without telling her, your actions towards her prove that you already saw her as a monster. If she can forgive you for your dishonesty, then I will accept your apology. If not, then I will never speak with you again.”
Kingston, with tears already budding in his eyes, was about to say something, when a familiar face burst into the scene. Although, to be fair, 'face' is something of a misnomer, as the being known as Spectre lacked anything even resembling a face. It had appeared from nowhere, as usual, but something was different about it. It was glowing bright red, and had swollen to the size of one of the pods outside. Even though Barsch could not understand it's strange language of colours and lights, he could tell that it was panicked.
Had it come to warn them? Or had it sensed the disharmony in the group, and had come to investigate. In either case, it's reason for being there would remain a mystery, as, at that moment, the door slid open, revealing the last person they had expected to see.
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