Stellaris: People of the Stars

by Robert E. Hampson

  “Can we do genetic modifications of this type and on this scale? And more importantly, can you make these changes inheritable?” Arun asked.

  “Yes,” I replied. “We knew that we would need to genetically modify our food crops and animals as well as manufacture vaccines for a growing colony. We will have to refine some of the production processes when it’s time to start human trials. The hard part will be transplanting parts of the Thorbian genome into the Terrestrial one to make sure both conformations are produced.”

  Arun looked me in the eye. “You know there will be unintended, long-term consequences from this. Any complications, any failures, and we will be blamed. We can model this all we want, but you and I both know that reality may not match what the computer says. Are you prepared for what might come next?”

  “We don’t have a choice,” I responded grimly. On Earth, we used CRISPR-based techniques to do targeted edits of the human genome to eliminate certain genetic diseases. But that was as far as it ever went. Public opinion was still strongly against editing the human genome as easily as a potato’s. Those who didn’t face the hard choices presented to us would judge us with the clarity of hindsight.

  “Yes, let’s start working on this.”

  I gave a slow nod. “Dr. Ramakrishnan, would you start working on setting up the clinical trials? Dr. Hauff, you and I need to start finding the Thorbian analogue to the major histocompatibility complexes. We need to set out more small animal traps—we’re going to want multiple individuals from multiple species.”

  This would be the hardest part. We would need to induce an immune response in multiple Thorbian animals to find out how it presented and what the source was. This would require blood transfusions between Thorbian species and observing the results. There would be no progress without sacrifice.

  * * *

  I woke to my shoulder being shaken. “Mmmph?”

  “Molly, wake up. You can’t sleep here.” Alan came into view as my eyes focused, concern on his face.

  “No, babe, I’m fine.” I mumbled, trying to reassure him. “I need to check on a few things in the lab, then I’ll go bed.”

  “Tara tells me you’ve been out for over an hour. Come on, let’s go to your quarters. I brought dinner for us. Eat something and then you can get some uninterrupted sleep.”

  In the doorway, I saw Tara looking in at us with a satisfied grin on her face. Traitor.

  It had been another long day in the lab. The captain’s deadline was fast approaching and it was an all-hands effort. Everyone was working in shifts, even with Arun sending over help as he could spare it. I had intended just to put my head down for a catnap before getting back to work. But Alan’s offer of food and an actual bed was too tempting.

  “Go sleep, Molly,” Tara gently commanded. “The lab can manage itself until you get back. I promise that if we get a breakthrough, then I will let you know immediately. Besides, you need to look alert when you present our idea to the captain in two days.”

  “What?” I responded, my brain still waking up.

  “The proposal for the captain to determine the future course of the colony is in two days,” Tara reminded me. “You need to put together the presentation. I’ll edit some footage tonight and you can finish it in the morning.”

  With a warm hand on my lower back, Alan gently nudged me up from my chair and herded me toward the door, with Tara smiling all the while. She knew I couldn’t resist Alan, who would pick me up and carry me if necessary.

  When we reached my door, I caught a whiff of the food Alan brought over and my mouth watered. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. The mass-produced cafeteria food smelled amazing right now.

  After a few minutes of stuffing my face, I asked Alan how things were going outside the lab. “The closer the deadline gets, the more calls my team gets. People are scared and tempers are flaring. We’ve had fights, domestics, you name it.”

  My hand reached to cup his face across the table. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve been so caught up in my own research I hadn’t realized things were so rough out there.”

  Alan shrugged. “We’re all in this together. This sort of situation is why my team is here. I will say, though, some of these scientists are surprisingly spry when they’re trying to beat on each other.” He grinned. “What have you been working on? You’ve barely left your lab for the past month. Have you found something?”

  “Arun, Tara, and I are trying to find the source of the immune response in Thorbian animals. Then we’ll try incorporating that into our human genes so that our immune systems don’t freak out when they encounter Thorbian proteins. It’s a long shot, but we think we can make it into a long-term self-sustaining solution.”

  “So, you’re going to alter our DNA? That’s wild. That sounds like the plot of a horror movie. Should I warn my team of an outbreak of zombies or mutants?”

  I chuckled. I’d needed the laugh. “In all seriousness, the possibility of something horrific happening is why we’re running closely monitored clinical trials on lab animals, including monkeys. Then we can attempt to do this on humans.”

  I yawned again. Alan tugged me toward the bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day as we assembled the team’s presentation.

  * * *

  The room was packed beyond maximum capacity and the air-conditioning was struggling to compensate. A wide range of solutions had been presented, from burning everything upwind of the landing site and seeding the land with Earth vegetation in a sort of slash-and-burn terraforming, to tunneling into the Thorbian dirt for future expansions.

  Then it was Dr. Dan’s turn. Smartly dressed, he gave a smooth presentation filled with slick animations. He waxed rhapsodic about how the entire colony could band together, and if we all sacrificed some part of our personal research efforts, we could help build a larger enclosure. His plan used orbital scans to find appropriate mineral deposits and set up remotely controlled mines and small-scale refineries to produce more materials and expand our current habitation.

  The room seemed to gain a sense of hope at his plan, but I wondered just how much everyone would be expected to sacrifice to Dr. Dan’s control to see his plan come to fruition. When the opportunity arose, I asked, “Dr. Dan, exactly how would the use and allocation of labor and robots from each department be determined?”

  “In the event that my proposal is accepted, I will draw up a roster that will fairly distribute the load across all the departments and personnel based on the needs of this project.”

  Pompous jerk.

  “You’ll draw up the roster?” asked Dr. Ramakrishnan, raising an eyebrow. “Surely such matters are the purview of the captain as the duly appointed representative of the Starpherra Corp?”

  “Ah yes, you are correct Dr. Ramakrishnan.” Dr. Dan’s cheeks reddened slightly at his loss of face. “I should have said that the captain and I would work together to determine a suitable roster and logistical plan.”

  I wondered how easy presumptively ruling with an iron fist came to Dr. Dan and how much of my distrust was due to my personal dislike of him.

  Shortly thereafter, it was my turn. I had tried to dress professionally, and had even put on makeup, but I still felt nervous as I began. “Captain Richardson and my fellow members of the Thorbian expedition, the plan that my department, along with the help of Dr. Ramakrishnan, has developed looks at how we can alter our immune system’s response and thereby treat a day outside on Thorbia like we would treat a day outside on Earth.”

  My fingers trembled as I played the first of the videos that demonstrated how our immune system essentially worked the same as the Thorbian one and explained how, through careful experimentation and computer modeling, we determined the source and pathways of the Thorbian immune responses. I detailed our plans for the comprehensive modeling on which our genetic modifications would be based. Finally, I reached the last slide.

  “I propose that instead of expanding this gilded cage we currently live in, we escape it. We
must use our current biotech capabilities to change ourselves and our children so that we may freely seek the Thorbian horizon and experience this planet directly for ourselves.”

  Dead silence met my proposal for two very long heartbeats, then the room erupted into shouting.

  I glanced at Captain Richardson, but seeing that she was too deep in contemplation to restore order, I turned up the volume on the mic and announced, “I cannot respond to your questions and comments if they are not presented in a coherent and professional manner.”

  The throng quieted and I started answering the questions that came flying toward me. Some were technical, while others reflected the individual’s own worries and beliefs.

  Soon enough, Dr. Dan spoke up. “What if this turns us into inhuman mutants over generations?”

  “Then we will have bought ourselves time to find a more permanent solution.”

  “Not if it also turns us into gibbering morons,” he shot back. Behind my back, I clenched my fists. I couldn’t lose my temper.

  “Dr. Dan, none of us in this expedition are scientific slackers. I and Dr. Ramakrishnan will perform the required tests and clinical trials so that whatever solution we produce will be to the standards that Terran regulatory agencies require of any gene therapy. But I acknowledge that every human has the potential to respond differently to any medical treatment that exists.” I tried to rein in my temper and felt my shoulder muscles ache from the tension. “Unlike you, Dr. Dan, I have dealt with the potential unpredictability of biological systems and accept that sometimes things cannot be modeled perfectly within a living and changing system, unlike when dealing in a purely academic laboratory situation.” Perhaps that had been a bit too pointed.

  Captain Richardson spoke up. “I believe this discussion has gone on long enough. Send me your complete proposals by midnight tonight, along with a cost and material breakdown. I will review the files and let each of you know my decision in a week.” Captain Richardson stood up and turned to leave the conference room, cutting through the crowds like a battleship underway.

  “A week? What are we supposed to do until you make up your mind?” Dr. Dan demanded.

  Captain Richardson turned and said coldly “I expect you to continue doing your jobs.”

  In the silence that followed her exit, I gathered up my tablet and hurried for one of the side exits. I had a lab with numerous experiments to get back to and another three pages to add to my proposal.

  True to her word, in a week’s time Captain Richardson called me into her office. “Have a seat Dr. Morgan. You look exhausted.” Her voice was warmer in private. Her office was hung with photos of Earth and Thorbia, and the back wall had two large windows overlooking the landing area and the Thorbian wilderness. On her desk a pair of binoculars were tucked next to the computer.

  “Thank you, Captain Richardson,” I replied as I settled back into a surprisingly comfortable chair. Gesturing to her binoculars I asked, “Do you ever see anything interesting out there?”

  “Oh, lots of things,” she smiled, “One day it would be nice to experience them as well. Which is why I called you in here. I have made my decision. We will pursue your solution first. It is the only one that, if successful, will allow us to integrate the colony into the planet.”

  I sat in stunned silence for a few seconds then shot to my feet. “Yes, thank you Captain Richardson,” I reached across her desk to shake her hand, bouncing in my excitement.

  Disengaging her hand from my enthusiastic shaking, Captain Richardson bade me to sit back down. I did, this time on the edge of the seat cushion. “Now,” she started. “How are you coming along with your research?”

  “We’ve begun working on the method of inserting the Thorbian DNA into the rat genome. We’re using the existing CRISPR methodologies that worked well back on Earth. Unfortunately, they’ve never been tested with Thorbian DNA.”

  “And has your…what did you call it? CRISPR? Has it worked?”

  “Eventually.” I gave her a slight smile. “We had to add a bit of Earth DNA to the ends of the Thorbian pieces so the enzymes would have something to attach to. Otherwise the presence of the extra genetic bases caused it to ignore the genes we wanted it to splice in.”

  “Excellent. But did it work?”

  “We don’t know yet. We didn’t want to get too far into the clinical trials before we knew what your decision would be.” I was suddenly reminded of Arun’s concerns. “Captain, what we’re trying—this genetic modification—it will be a lot for some people to cope with. There was still a strong anti-genetic-engineering crowd on Earth when we left. Even though we’re all employees of a multinational pharmaceutical company, there are still people who are reluctant to have this done to them.”

  “I know, Dr. Morgan, I’m one of those ‘reluctant people,’ but at this time I don’t see how we have a choice. Right now, we live at the mercy of our equipment, and it is only a matter of time before something fails.” Her eyes flicked to the photos on the wall. “And I have begun to wonder if it is our choices that define our humanity, and not just our DNA. Are we truly human if we come this far only to choose to live in a gilded cage of our own making?”

  “But what about the people who refuse this treatment?” I asked.

  “As captain of this ship and duly appointed representative of the Starpherra Corp., I am empowered to back my decisions up by force, if I deem it necessary.” Her voice was back to its typical no-nonsense tone. “I will make the announcement of my decision within the hour. I expect you to send me weekly reports of your progress. Good luck, Dr. Morgan,” she said, dismissing me.

  * * *

  “It looks like this round of trials on the rats have a higher success rate at least, but they’re still sickening after a while. They’re eating the Thorbian vegetation without going into anaphylaxis, but then they get run-down and bloated, then listless and finally die.” Tara ran her hands through her hair, a sure sign she was frustrated at a lack of answers after six weeks of failures.

  Dr. Ramakrishnan poked gently at the organs of a dead rat as he examined it. “These all look paler than what they should be. And while the animals are bloated, it seems to be water weight. Look,” he said and indicated the diaphragm muscles. “These look almost atrophied.”

  He leaned back from the postmortem on the lab bench. “Have you done an analysis of their feces to determine digestion of the Thorbian proteins?”

  “What are you thinking, Arun?” I asked, as I sat upright on the opposite side of the exam table.

  “We hypothesized that despite the different conformations, our Terran gut biota would be able to digest the Thorbian proteins. What if they can’t? Or at least, what if they can’t digest them completely? Maybe the rats don’t die of anaphylaxis; instead they die of malnutrition.”

  “Tara, have we examined the fecal composition?” I asked.

  “No, we haven’t. Not yet at least. But I’ll get someone on that right now,” she said as she rushed off.

  After a few hours, the results came back: Only about fifty percent of what the rats were ingesting could be broken down and absorbed by their bodies. The Thorbian food filled their stomachs, and so they thought themselves satiated, but their bodies couldn’t digest enough of what they ate.

  To populate our Thorbian modified rats’ guts with the right digestive bacteria, we collected fecal samples from Thorbian animals with similar diets. We then put small amounts into capsules and fed them to the rats.

  “Making poop pills for rats isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve done for science,” Tara commented. “But it certainly ranks in the top ten.”

  “Let’s hope these fecal transplants work,” I said. “I want to move on to the next set of trials.”

  The autopsy of a subsequent rat a few weeks later revealed a creature in much better health, though with a slightly enlarged cecum. Concerned about possible infections, we ran more tests.

  “Congratulations Drs. Morgan and Hauff, you have now given the ap
pendix a reason to exist,” announced Arun. “It seems that the Thorbian gut fauna moved into the rat’s version of the appendix.”

  After a round of celebratory elbow bumps, we started setting up multiple trials on larger animals. We needed a large enough sample size to draw meaningful conclusions based on the data.

  After a few months of successful tests on rabbits, we moved up the chain to monkeys. Monkeys are much more like humans, so the data could be more easily extrapolated to us. They would clearly show if the Thorbian digestive bacteria still showed up in the appendix. Unfortunately, monkeys were a very limited resource, so any failures had a greater impact.

  * * *

  “We’re getting close, babe, I can feel it,” I told Alan while snuggled in his arms. “The monkey trials had good results. There were a few odd side effects in three of the macaques, but everything was still within acceptable statistical limits.” I grinned up at him.

  “I’m on the security squad, not the math squad, honey. I’m guessing based on your grin and body language what you just told me is good news?” He peered down at me quizzically.

  “Yes, what I said is very good news. It means we’re closer to a solution that will allow us to survive outside of the ship. Plus, all this data we’re gathering now can help us with future experiments,” I explained.

  “So, what happens when you get ready for human trials? How do you determine who gets the first injection?” he asked.

  “We have run genetic compatibility and immune-response trials against tissue samples from everyone in the crew. We’re going to randomly select one of the most promising candidates to be the first guinea pig,” I said.

  “That sounds like the worst lottery ever,” Alan chuckled.

  * * *

  Ten weeks later, it was time to choose from the hundred best candidates. Tara started the randomized algorithm she had designed, and, in a few seconds, we would have our first experimental human. I hoped whoever was chosen would understand the importance of this experiment and cooperate willingly.