“So?” frowned Lucy.
“So I asked them where the bathroom was,” said Dan.
Ah, so he was still there. He didn’t smile, but a flicker of humor was a good sign.
“It’s two carriages along, by the way,” he finished, squeezing back into his seat and setting about unwrapping a Twinkie bar he’d pulled from his bag. “Ours is out of order. Oh, and that was it! The thing everyone was calling ‘the virus’ – it’s not a virus. Apparently it’s more like bacteria or something. Sounded like pro … carrot?”
“Prokaryote?” suggested Lucy.
Dan tore a chunk out of the Twinkie bar. “That sounds about right.”
“Two carriages along, yeah? I’ll be back in a minute,” said Lucy, setting off up the train.
The doors swept aside with a pneumatic hiss. She put her hands out onto the walls ahead to stabilize her transition between carriages as the train rocked.
Unlike her own carriage, the first A-list car had much more of a conversational buzz about it. People had gathered in small clusters as best they could, some sitting, others standing around the rows in discussion with each other. Passengers were crossing in and out of the next carriage along with impunity as the porous exchanges continued, so Lucy’s entrance broke no unwritten rules; no one gave her so much as a second glance.
In the immediate row to her left a pair slept. To her right a more industrious pair were engrossed in note-making, one typing furiously on a laptop, the other feverishly annotating some sketches on paper.
She was about to continue down the aisle when two individuals entered at the opposite end of the carriage.
“Can I have your attention please, everyone,” declared the foremost new arrival, loudly. She was an academic-looking woman of Indian heritage. The woman looked to be in her mid-forties. She wore a smart black cardigan over a plain, light grey top. Her dark hair was center-parted and stopped an inch above her shoulders, framing her tan-colored skin.
The man standing next to her was a good decade older, with silvery-grey hair that had receded halfway across his pale head. He wore a beige blazer with black dog-tooth patterning, and rimless rectangular glasses.
“Apologies for the late running of this briefing,” said the woman. “Carriage A7 had a lot of questions, as I’m sure will you. My name is Professor Rupali Sheraton. I will be relaying the information we have from NASA. My colleague, Doctor Phillip Tauro, will then be briefing you on the nature of the pandemic.”
The standing occupants of the carriage quickly returned to their seats and pulled out notepads and tablets.
“We can’t be sure exactly when this began, but what I’m about to outline took place primarily within a forty-eight-hour period,” continued the professor. “We believe the satellite failures were caused by a bacterial cloud that was drawn into Earth’s gravity. I say ‘bacterial’ but really that’s by way of analogy. They were single-celled organisms – to begin with. Our hypothesis is that the organisms were able to metabolize one of the components of the Solar Array Drive Mechanisms in the satellites, resulting in critical failure.
“While the organisms were proliferating on the satellites – initially undetected – gravity pulled the rest of this transparent cloud into low orbit, where we believe it contaminated an astronaut’s suit during a spacewalk. The astronaut then unwittingly brought the pathogen aboard the International Space Station, where a crew handover had been going on for several weeks.
“The organisms interacted with samples in the space station’s labs, resulting in new variants. The crew began to notice these anomalous results and reported samples corrupting, overflowing, and generally undergoing rapid change – but they could not identify the cause.
“The return crew boarded the Soyuz shuttle as scheduled and departed for Earth. While the Soyuz crew were in transit, the remaining astronauts aboard the ISS all experienced fatal cardiac events within minutes of each other. We received no further signal.
“We then lost contact with the Soyuz capsule, which wasn’t discovered until twelve hours later. It had splashed down in the Gulf of Aden, way off course. This was the moment the pathogen transitioned from space to Earth – contaminating our oceans.
“The Soyuz recovery was probably one of the last things you saw on the news. We took samples from inside the shuttle, which were flown to labs in San Fran. We never found the crew.
“It was shortly after the Soyuz was located that the satellites failed completely. First we lost satellites over China and India, then over Central Europe, and finally over North America. This pattern is consistent with the hypothesis that the initial contamination came from a gravity-drawn cloud. At this point I’ll hand over to Doctor Tauro.”
The doctor took a half-step forward and cleared his throat as Professor Sheraton vacated the spot.
“Good afternoon, everyone. As Rupali said, this thing seems to have arrived from space. That’s as much as we know in terms of its origins, but it tells us something about its properties. It’s an extremophile, for starters, which is going to make it hard to kill. Secondly, it is uniquely aggressive, owing to a number of factors that I’ll come to.
“It is a new domain of life – the fourth domain. Its relationship with DNA is unlike anything observed on Earth. For now we are simply referring to it as ‘D4’.”
The balding doctor cleared his throat again and rocked on his heels.
“We’ve tried to sequence its genome and have so far failed. After numerous attempts, and after ruling out several other hypotheses, my team and I began to suspect the presence of non-terrestrial bases in its DNA. That is to say, we suspected our tests were failing because they were encountering something that was not part of the terrestrial GATC set, and therefore something we were not hitherto equipped to measure.
“We devised a new test, and I’m pleased – or startled, depending on your perspective – to announce that we have indeed identified two new base pairs. We’re not yet certain of their properties or variants, but we consider this definitive proof that the pathogen is extra-terrestrial. For now, we’re calling the new bases S and Z, in honor of the Soyuz and ISS crews.
“We believe that D4 has similarities to the CRISPR Cas9 mechanisms seen in some terrestrial bacteria. It seems able to assimilate the DNA of any species it interacts with, and appropriate elements into its own code. Crucially, however, it uses this as a weapon, rather than a form of defense. Our most recent findings suggest that the S-Z base pairs function as ‘spacers’, or ‘links’ between appropriated sets of terrestrial DNA. We believe the S-Z bases are the key to its genetic plasticity.
“What I want to stress to you is that, from what we have observed so far, this pathogen has very little in the way of its own identity. D4 is a life form defined not by its manifestations, but by its mechanisms. It is a process, and regarding it as such will be the key to our fight.”
The doctor paused, allowing the furious typing and note-making to continue until the audience had caught up.
“Our investigations were frustrated by power disruption,” he continued, “and latterly by loss of key personnel, but we hope to resume the research in Washington. In terms of evidence, my lab took samples from the ocean, the spores that blew inland, the new fauna that emerged, and from the carcasses of terrestrial mammals that had succumbed to D4 – including humans.
“We have also discovered instances of new species: D4 variants of terrestrial mammals. The vast majority of genetic material in these new species appears to be terrestrial DNA, but those terrestrial sequences are regulated by D4’s S-Z bases.
“In essence, D4 scavenges for genetic parts and splices them together. The resulting progeny vary wildly in their viability and the extent to which ‘new’ DNA is expressed. Each new D4 generation remains identifiable through the presence of S-Z bases, and through their unique reproductive characteristics, despite them exhibiting traits from the organisms they’ve preyed upon.
“Reproduction indeed appears to be the key
to D4’s success,” continued the doctor. “Regardless of size or terrestrial genetic composition, it reproduces through fission. Progeny emerge fully matured. We call these occurrences ‘massive re-specialization events’. In these MREs, the entire pathogen appears to return to a de-specialized state – a globule. This globule then spontaneously re-specializes into one or more fully formed organisms, in which appropriated genes are expressed.
“We believe that MREs have enabled the pathogen to perform evolutionary leapfrogs. Three weeks ago this thing was basically a bacterium, and already it’s amassed enough cellular material to form organisms millions of times that size. It’s evolution at a rate we are not prepared for.”
More murmurs from the audience.
“However, as it forms increasingly complex organisms, D4’s breeding cycle slows, bringing it more in line with what we’re used to on Earth. In other words, an S-Z bacterium may take minutes, but an S-Z sperm whale will take months to gestate. That sort of scale. Hence the number of S-Z-positive mammals we’ve encountered is vastly smaller than, say, the number of spores you saw in San Francisco.
“Presumably availability of food is the greatest rate-limiting factor in its breeding cycle. If it evolves to eat more, faster, it will likely reproduce faster too, and continue to grow in size. An urgent question for us, then, is: how are they consuming enough matter to sustain such growth? We think part of the answer lies in D4’s ability to switch from behaving as a single-celled organism to a multicellular one, much like a slime mold. This is possible when D4 takes liquid form – what we’ve dubbed ‘Gen Water’.”
The doctor paused, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of his shirt before replacing them, ignoring a raised hand from the audience.
“Gen Water is a source both of food and of new genetic material. We believe D4 kills its host then triggers a rapid digestion process. We don’t fully understand the mechanism yet. It could be something akin to an enzyme, or perhaps it utilizes something within the host. We don’t know. But what we do know is that, once fully digested, the carcass disintegrates and disperses. It does not go straight into an MRE. Each carcass is transformed into Gen Water. That liquid then disperses, and can be co-opted by another D4 organism undergoing an MRE.
“In our lab we took two samples. The first was taken from a D4 creature which had looked almost identical to a terrestrial cat before it began to de-specialize. It turned to Gen Water and began to form a globule – a precursor to mass re-specialization. We exposed the D4 ‘cat’ globule to inactive Gen Water taken from a human cadaver. There was an almost magnetic attraction between the samples. The human Gen Water was drawn into the cat globule, which grew proportionally to how much we fed it. But the progeny were not half-cat, half-human, as the ratios would suggest. The globule yielded a dozen smaller creatures more akin to salamanders. Our interpretation of this is that the D4 ‘cat’ may have been exposed to salamander DNA during a previous MRE. The genes were stored in its genetic library, dormant, until the S-Z bases ‘chose’ to express them in this particular re-specialization.”
“What happened to them?” asked a woman. “To the D4 ‘salamanders’?”
“They attacked each other,” replied Dr. Tauro. “Possibly a consequence of being trapped in a confined space, but we can’t be sure at this stage. We terminated the surviving samples.”
“If D4 can turn to Gen Water, does that mean the water’s alive?” asked a man near the front.
“Yes and no,” replied the doctor. “You could almost think of Gen Water as stem cells awaiting activation. It’s basically an energy-rich DNA soup, which has the ability to become a functional D4 organism – but we don’t yet know how or at what point it becomes ‘alive’. We also don’t understand how D4 is able to transform both organic and inorganic matter into Gen Water.”
Several more hands went up.
“From what you’ve said, Doctor Tauro, it sounds like the only time they can feed is during reproduction?” asked a man near Lucy.
“That’s the only time we’ve observed so far,” replied the doctor, “but that could simply be because we induced it. We have yet to observe feeding in the wild. But I’m sure many of you are already sensing the opportunity this knowledge presents; if we can identify a DNA sequence that is toxic to D4, we could potentially engineer a virus to replicate in the Gen Water. It could be a way of eradicating the pathogen.”
Another hand went up.
“Yes?” said Professor Sheraton, stepping forward to share the questioning burden.
“The Gen Water process – where an organic host is broken down – is that what happened to the crew of the Soyuz capsule?” asked a greying woman three rows from Lucy.
“We believe so, yes,” replied the professor. “We suspect there is a link between the number of D4 cells and the speed the victim degrades. The Soyuz was an extremely confined space, with a heat catalyst. Our hypothesis is that the crew were degraded within the twelve hours it took to locate the capsule, and that their Gen Water contaminated the ocean. Our fear is that we’re now seeing this heat catalyst effect on a global scale; we’ve lost the contrails from air traffic and it’s pushing average temperatures up.”
A dozen hands shot up again, but this time Doctor Tauro intervened, raising both of his palms in surrender. “Thank you for your time, everyone. This is the eighth consecutive briefing we’ve had to do, so perhaps you’ll grant us leave for now. We’re both situated in carriage A1, so please do come and find us later today if you wish to discuss your thoughts further. Thank you again.”
As the doctor and professor departed, the carriage erupted in conversation. Lucy took half a step forwards, but the man and woman immediately before her had each leaned in from their aisle seats and were engaged in animated discussion. She hesitated.
“Can I help you?” snapped the man, suddenly glaring at her.
“Sorry … I was …” stumbled Lucy.
“Don’t apologize to him,” said the woman, jumping in. “Just because our entire understanding of life science has been turned on its head, doesn’t mean there’s not a place for manners. I’m Jean. You are?”
She took the woman’s proffered hand. “Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy. You’re from the carriage behind, I take it?” the woman enquired.
The man snorted derisively.
“This is Mohammed,” continued Jean. “As you can probably tell from his social skills, he’s a computer scientist.”
“Don’t shun my kind, we’re the ones who can get mankind back on track. Ninety per cent reduction in population means tiny labor force means we need automated machines. And automated machines need this guy,” he said, pointing to himself with both thumbs. “But how about you, Carriage B, what are you for?”
Lucy blinked, taken aback.
“What am I for?” she repeated.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” snapped the man.
“Mo, don’t be a jackass,” interrupted Jean.
“What? We live in a binary world. You’re either useful or you’re not,” he shrugged.
“And you’re either an asshole, or you’re not,” replied Lucy, regretting her words immediately.
Jean laughed.
“True,” agreed Mohammed, to her surprise. “But your carriage could have been filled with medics. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Oh do shut up, Mo. The whole premise of this train is abhorrent,” reproached Jean. “It’s revolting that we even have to reduce human worth to utility like this. If the new world were populated by the likes of us alone, I’m not sure it’s a place I’d want to live.”
“Are you going past or what?” Mohammed snarked, addressing Lucy once again.
“Uh, yeah. The bathroom’s this way, right, Jean?” asked Lucy.
“Yes dear, down the stairs at the end,” the woman replied.
Lucy nodded and gave her an awkward smile, then headed to the end of the carriage and down the stairs.
***
As she stepped out of the tiny washroom, the train began to slow again. Lucy expected to see another provincial station coming into view alongside the tracks, but there was only a patchwork quilt of forest and fields, turning a hue of dark purple as the sun departed.
After a minute of deceleration the train came to a complete stop, jolting slightly as the brakes locked into position. As Lucy passed back through the A-carriage, murmurs spread among the passengers, all craning to see out of their windows.
“This must be some sort of mistake,” insisted one. “We’re not supposed to be stopping at all now until DC, that’s what they said, right? That’s what they said?” repeated the woman, looking to her fellow passengers for reassurance.
A soldier hastily ascended the stairs, emerging from the deck below. He hurried through A7, pushing past Lucy and the other folk blocking the aisles. Ignoring their bombardment of questions, he pressed on to the next carriage. Lucy watched him hasten towards the front of the train until misaligned doors obscured him from view.
She decided to get back to Dan, politely weaving through the crowded aisles of A7 and A8 until she reached Carriage B. The taboo of silence had been broken by the unexplained stop, and scared B-listers were at last talking to one another openly.
“This can’t be good,” said a lone man, his eyes wrought with fear. “I mean, look at what happened in San Francisco, right? First the satellites, then the virus. Now this!” He gestured to the wilderness around them.
“I’m sure they’ll get us moving again,” assured a woman close by, softly.
“Ah, what do you know? You’re stuck here with the rest of us,” said the man.
“I saw a soldier walking that way,” interjected Lucy. “I think he’s gone to talk to the driver, so I think they’re on it.”
Convulsive Box Set Page 15
