Chapter 37: Omie Gallery
Populating the biomes was a process that consumed the planet’s entire population. Everyone was, in some way, involved. Anyone could apply. All that was required for application was personal data and a sample of DNA. It was left to the scientists to determine the criteria under which a person would be considered as a first generation biome dweller. Over 70% of applicants were rejected on the first round of selections. Most of these rejections were due to age or DNA flags. If the human race was to be spread throughout the galaxy, we might as well send out the best. The selection of the biome population was seen as a good way to purify the DNA pool. Any applicant with a genetic disorder, or genetic disposition to a disorder, was automatically rejected. Once selected, the purification continued for a number of generations through the use of restricted breeding protocols. By the time fourth generation omies were born, the pool was as clean as it had ever been through natural selection. All omies DNA and physical and mental traits were tracked and recorded annually.
Cornelia Banks snapped open her VID. She spoke sharply. “Make sure you bring a full complement of scanning gear. I want you here five minutes ago. Delay the forensics guys. They will just get in the way.” And then, as an afterthought, she said, “Bring a full complement of suits. Gas and space.”
She clicked off and turned to Joseph Kane. In a soft voice she said, “I want you to get the LO out of here. This has just turned really nasty.”
Jayne overheard and stepped forward. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“With all due respect, the LO belongs in her office so she can liaise with whomever needs liaising,” Cornelia said sarcastically.
“With all due respect to the fixer coordinator, perhaps she should stick to what she is good at and let me do my job,” said Jayne, in a sweet but caustic tone.
“Yes, with respect, but I don’t believe that the illustrious LO is old enough to know what she is good at. Now run along and let the adults work,” said Cornelia flatly and she turned to her other aide. “How long will it be until they get here?”
“At least 20 minutes. We are quite a ways out,” he said.
Jayne’s face flushed red. She began to recite in a loud voice. “The responsibilities of the liaison officer in the biomes are wide and varied.” She stopped to interject. “I’ll now skip to the important part.” She continued, “The primary responsibility is to ensure safety for all. This includes all native biome dwellers as well as fixers, scientists and politicians that may be present. In case of an emergency, all final decisions are the responsibility of the liaison officer.”
She stopped and stared at Cornelia and Joseph. “I’m going down there now. Time is obviously of the essence and the safety of that fixer is primary.”
Cornelia reached out to stop her but Joseph stayed her hand. “She is right,” he said.
As the floor slid closed over her head, Jayne muttered, “Suit – Thirteen – suggest maximum safety.” Nothing seemed to happen. The Sergio Partelli looked exactly the same as before. She was still wearing the specially-equipped fixer suit. The light from above faded, as the forest floor, now her ceiling, closed.
Jayne reached to her equipment belt, removed and turned on a flashlight. She looked around her and saw a mist fill the small room from a series of holes in the walls. The odd thing was that she was not in the mist. It was like an invisible shield surrounded her. She was in a force field that the mist could not penetrate.
“Gas,” she thought. “The young omies that entered here were gassed.” Suddenly the gas disappeared, the back wall of the small room lifted and the floor began to move forward. As soon as Jayne was clear of the room, the door closed again. In front of her, lying on the floor was Cornelia’s aide. A dim light was glowing on the far side of a large room.
Jayne flipped her VID and called Joseph, “I am alright. You will need gas masks to get down here safely. I had one in my kit and I put it on before I passed out,” Jayne lied. She checked her pouch to see if in fact there was a gas mask as part of the equipment. She sighed as her hand came into contact with it. Her lie would hold.
“Lucky girl, as usual,” said the voice of Joseph from her VID. “How is Gregor?”
“Of course, you know it is skill and experience, not just luck, that kept me safe,” she said and then added under her breath, “With a little help from Sergio.”
She moved to check Gregor. She felt for his pulse. She stood up. “He appears to be OK. His pulse is strong. I am going to see if I can shut off the gas and get you two down here sooner.”
“Be careful,” said Joseph.
Jayne scanned the room with her flashlight. She saw that the section of floor that led from the gas room was, in fact, a wide conveyer belt that transported the unconscious bodies onto, what could only be described as, a body carousel. As she looked, the conveyor belt started and she was moving along with Gregor. She stepped off the moving belt and pulled Gregor off to the side. She turned him on his back. His breathing was shallow.
The conveyer belt stopped and the carousel started, as if it was expecting Gregor’s body to be deposited from the conveyer. The carousel turned until the section that would have held Gregor disappeared through a slit in the wall. To the right of the carousel was a door. Jayne scanned it with her flashlight. There was an old fashioned keypad on the left side that controlled the locking mechanism.
Jayne walked over and inspected it. She raised her hand to the keypad, hoping the correct number would jump into her head. Nothing did. She rested her hand on the keys and quickly pulled it away. A DNA scraper had just taken a small sample of the skin on her palm. The keypad was not as old fashioned as she had thought. There was a click from the door but it did not open. Jayne jumped, as the conveyor belt started again. It ran for a few seconds and then stopped. Suddenly the process became clear to Jayne. She heard the carousel start up and she turned, ran toward it and jumped onto where she would have been, had she been deposited as an unconscious person by the conveyor belt. A small slit opened in the wall where the carousel passed through. It was just large enough to accommodate a body.
Once through, the carousel stopped. Jayne sat up and started to inspect the room with her flashlight but it was not as dark as the ante room. She did not need it. There were lights that ran the perimeter. They were attached to the walls at the two metre level like a continuous wall sconce. Below were VID-size photographs of people. They were three high and ran almost the entire perimeter of the room. Some had large X’s right through them. Others had green checkmarks in the corner and still others had question marks in the same location as the green check marks. Jayne walked around the room, inspecting the photographs. Most were of teenagers or young adults. A few were of children of 11 or 12 years old. As she walked, she inspected each photograph. She began to realize that this was a list of victims and possible victims that lived in Biome 7. The monsters that ran this place were capturing them, and murdering them for their genetically-perfect body parts. They would be sold and implanted into equally monstrous people.
Jayne looked up at the posters again and realized the true horror. This was a body-part-to-order operation. Need a heart with only 15 years on it? Just put in your order and we will scan the databases and find you the perfect match. It will cost you, but that is no problem for a rich, nasty scientist or politician.
Jayne looked at another door on the far side of the room. There were three photographs in a vertical line, highlighted by a border. The bottom two had large black X’s through them. She walked toward them. Her VID sounded.
It was Cornelia Banks. “Ms. Kai? Are you alright? The equipment has arrived. We will be down there in two minutes.”
Jayne did not respond. She had walked a few more steps toward the three pictures. Her mouth fell open. The top picture was surrounded by yellow stars as if the person was a celebrity. It was a picture of Jayne. If someone saw it, they would know it was her immediately. Fear welled up. Her heart pounded in her chest. She felt the
bubble grow out from the confines of her skin. She felt time slow until there was almost forever between the beats of her heart. It was in that time between contractions of her heart and the rush of blood, that Jayne could consider actions and the myriad of possibilities created by those actions. She explored the economy of each. Ockham’s Razor states that, “Plurality is not to be posited without necessity.” That is—‘do not add complexity to a solution until it becomes necessary to do so,’ or ‘KISS—keep it simple, stupid.’ Jayne drew back from the infinity and felt her blood continue its rush through her veins and arteries. She sighed. The decision was made.
The sound of voices coming from the outside room intruded. She quickly reached up and peeled her picture from the wall, folded it up and tucked it in her personal pouch. The mark on the wall where the picture was posted was nearly indiscernible. Jayne quickly turned to the entrance door. There was easy access from this side. She opened the door.
Joseph yelped and pulled his hand from the number pad. “Damn dull skin scraper. Did I open the door or did you?” he asked Jayne.
“I did,” she replied. She turned to Cornelia. “This is going to make you sick and very angry.”
Jayne swept her hand out and spun in a circle as if to welcome them to view the works in a gallery of fine art. At least 10 people streamed into the room. Many held cases that contained all sorts of equipment. They set down their burdens and waited.
Cornelia and Joseph scanned the gallery of photographs.
“Oh my god! I recognize some of these kids. I saw this one yesterday. He works in the village market,” said one of the fixers. He pointed at a photo with a checkmark in the top corner. “What does the green checkmark mean?” He did not wait for an answer. “And this one went missing last year. We hunted everywhere for her. In the end, we told her parents that she probably ran away to the surface and would contact them soon. She obviously never did.”
There was a large X right over the picture. Joseph frowned and mumbled half to himself, “’Cause she’s dead.” And then louder. “I bet all these Xs are dead kids just like the one we found and the ones in the room I found. All gutted for their organs. All gassed, gutted and killed. I sure hope none of them woke up.” As if to signal that process, there was a groan from the ante room. It was Gregor. The groan was repeated and then was followed by the unmistakable sounds of someone puking his guts out.
Cornelia turned to one of the group of fixers and said, “Go and see if he is alright, then get him out of here and to the hospital. Who knows what kind of gas they were using?”
She had forgotten about Jayne and turned her attention to the door on the far side of the room where Jayne had removed the photograph of herself. “Let’s get through there and find out what has been going on here right under our noses.”
As the fixers began to use some sophisticated equipment to check the door, Joseph turned to Jayne and whispered, “You need to get out of here. Now! I mean it. Come with me now. No telling what kind of installation this door will lead to.”
“I can handle it,” said Jayne.
“Look, I am not concerned if you can handle a little blood and gore. What I am concerned about is your safety in the long run. No telling what kind of surveillance they are using. There could be electronic sniffers tagged with your DNA all over this installation. There doesn’t appear to be anything here but behind that door could be a very different story. Now let’s go!” Joseph ordered. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her toward the door to the ante room and the conveyer belt.
She pulled out of his grasp.
“I can walk without you pulling me. Let me go. It would look a little suspicious for the LO’s aide to be pulling her around like she was a ragdoll, now wouldn’t it?” Jayne whispered with a haughty air.
She walked out and called behind her, “Ms Banks, I expect a full report with video as soon as you have completed this initial investigation.”
Cornelia called back, “I’ll have something when I have something.”
Jayne grinned but did not turn around. “And that will be tomorrow morning at the latest. We all have reports to write and I want yours by 8:00 hours tomorrow.”
She thought as she stepped into the small lift now under manual control, “That will teach her to treat me like I am a child.”
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