Genome

by A. G. Riddle

  She tossed off the stack of blankets and reached for the tent’s zipper.

  “Peyton,” her mother called.

  She ignored her and rushed outside.

  The helicopter hovered a hundred feet away. The Aurora Borealis had returned, its purple and green glowing bands barely lighting the black vessel in the sky.

  Peyton waved her arms. “Hey!”

  Adams emerged from his tent, rifle in hand. “Get back inside!”

  When Peyton looked up, the helicopter was moving off.

  Adams watched it, then strode over to Peyton. The cold was taking hold now, seeping through her clothes.

  “Stay inside next time,” he said.

  “It could have been rescue.” She was shivering now.

  “Rescuers would have landed.”

  Peyton knew he was right. She turned and re-entered the tent, with Adams behind her.

  “Who was it?” Lin asked.

  Adams shook his head. “Didn’t get a good look.”

  Peyton slipped back under the covers. “What will they do?”

  “They’ll find a place to touch down. Test the ice first, make sure it holds. Then they’ll disembark and hike here.”

  “And?”

  “And then they’ll attack.”

  Two hours later, Adams came to Peyton and Lin’s tent. He and Rodriguez had set makeshift traps around the camp’s perimeter, and they had been alternating guard shifts, but there had been no movement.

  “What are they waiting on?” Lin asked.

  “Hard to say. Tire us out. Starve us out, maybe.” The SEAL was munching on a stick of beef jerky.

  “Options?” Lin asked.

  “None. We wait.”

  Peyton heard gunshots outside the tent, then Adams and Rodriguez shouting. She knew she should stay inside, but she couldn’t resist peeling the flap back and peeking.

  Adams held his rifle at the ready, and was panning left and right. Rodriguez was running full speed, his boots pounding the ice. Beyond the last ring of LED lights, a figure was fleeing, zigzagging. Rodriguez pulled up and took a shot, but the figure kept running, swallowed by the darkness.

  Rodriguez watched for several minutes, then began trudging back. Along the way, he stooped and picked something up.

  When he arrived at Peyton and Lin’s tent, he ducked through the opening and tossed the item at Lin’s feet. It was a stake, with a radio taped to it, along with a handwritten note wrapped in plastic.

  My name is Avery Price. I’m here for Lin and Peyton Shaw. If they are your prisoners, I am willing to negotiate. If you aren’t willing to negotiate, be advised: my team and I will recover them either way. Call me.

  “I know her,” Peyton said. “She rescued Desmond and me from the Kentaro Maru.”

  Adams rubbed his eyelids. The man was clearly exhausted. “She may have turned. Or is being coerced.”

  “I know Avery as well,” Lin said.

  Peyton was shocked. She studied her mother.

  “But I don’t know what side she’s truly on. Let’s play this out,” Lin said. “Let her talk to someone she trusts.” She handed the radio to her daughter.

  Peyton clicked the button. “Avery, it’s Peyton. Do you read?”

  “I read you, Doc. You okay?”

  “We’re okay. I’ve got my mom here too.”

  A pause on the line.

  “What’s your status?” Avery asked.

  “A Citium team sank the icebreaker and chased us to the Beagle. We… came out on top down there. We’ve been waiting for rescue.”

  “Copy that. Who’s with you?”

  Adams put his hand over the radio. “Say seven SEALS at the camp and two satellite camps with snipers.”

  Peyton shook her head. “This is Avery—”

  “We take nothing for granted.”

  Peyton relayed the false report.

  “The soldier I saw during the flyover was wearing Citium cold weather gear,” Avery said.

  “Yes. We assumed they would arrive first—after their people failed to check in.”

  “Safe assumption. I’m going to ask you a question.”

  Peyton paused. “Okay.”

  “After we escaped from the Kentaro Maru, you and I fought about something. What was it? Before you answer, know this: if you’re a captive, lie. If you don’t answer, I’ll assume the worst.”

  Peyton smiled. She and Avery had fought—in fact, the two had hated each other initially. But Avery had saved Peyton’s life. And after Avery was injured at the battle on the Isle, Peyton had helped save the younger woman’s life.

  “Hannah. She needed a hospital. We fought over her.”

  “Yeah, we did, Doc.”

  “But it turned out okay,” Peyton said.

  “So will this,” Avery said. “I’ll come in. Unarmed. Tell your guys not to shoot me.”

  Ten minutes later, Avery was sitting in the tent, everyone gathered around her.

  It was the first time Peyton had seen Avery and Lin together. There was an air of familiarity there, along with something else—mutual caution. Suspicion.

  “What’s happening out there?” Lin asked Avery.

  “I don’t know any more than you all. The US military had standing orders to rally to the continental US in the event of a major comms breakdown.”

  “Where are you operating from?” Adams asked. “A carrier?”

  Avery hesitated. “Ah, yeah. But we don’t want to go back.”

  Peyton raised her eyebrows.

  “Captain and I had a disagreement about this particular mission.”

  Peyton shook her head. “You stole the helo?”

  “Requisitioned it.” Avery shrugged. “Without authorization.”

  Peyton was starting to like Avery more and more.

  “We need to evacuate,” Adams said. “I don’t like being out in the open here.”

  “I agree,” said Lin.

  “What did you find down there?” Avery asked. “Please tell me it’s something we can use to stop Yuri.” She paused, not making eye contact with Peyton. “And find Desmond.”

  Peyton looked to her mother.

  “Bones from extinct species—as we suspected,” Lin said. “Including a human ancestor previously unknown to us. We sequenced genomes of the samples.”

  “Was the data lost with the Arktika?”

  Nigel gripped his bag. “No. We got it out.”

  “As soon as we get to a high-speed internet connection, we need to upload the data,” Lin said.

  “Upload to where?” Avery asked.

  “A data center.”

  “I got that,” Avery muttered. “Whose data center?”

  “My associates.”

  Avery leaned forward. “It’s Phaethon Genetics, isn’t it? During the outbreak, you collected DNA samples and sequenced them at Phaethon. You’re storing all the data there, aren’t you?” When Lin didn’t respond, Avery continued. “In fact, that was your plan all along. That’s why you wanted Phaethon to build its own data center. All those queries, they weren’t about our mission—curing disease. You were just getting ready for this. Phaethon was a front for your Citium research.”

  Peyton held up her hands. “Wait—you two worked together at Phaethon?” Her mother’s company had hundreds of employees. When Avery first told Peyton her story, Peyton had just assumed their paths had never crossed.

  “On occasion,” Lin said quietly.

  But Avery was angry now. “So all that stuff about ‘let’s find the genetic basis of disease’ was just a cover. Everybody in the company was living a lie.”

  “You’re being dramatic, Avery.” Lin looked away. “Now we need to—”

  “I want to know what you’re doing. I deserve to know. And I’m your only way out of here.”

  Rodriguez let his hand fall to his side, to the handle of his gun. “I can fly a helo.”

  Avery’s eyes flashed on him. Her hand went to her own gun.

  “Stop.” Lin’s v
oice was like a hammer blow. “Both of you. We are all leaving here together.” To Avery, she said, “Yes. It was a cover. But for all the right reasons. I believe you’re familiar with that concept.”

  “I want to know the reason that was so right.”

  “Two thousand years ago, the Citium was founded to answer a simple question: What is humanity’s destiny?”

  Avery rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re a true believer.”

  “I am a believer in science. And I believe we are on the verge of the greatest discovery in history. The answer is written in our genes, a code that will unlock the mysteries of our existence. And lead us out of the darkness.”

  Avery exhaled heavily and scratched her head. “I’m ready to fly out of the darkness here, so why don’t you give me the English version of what you’re talking about.”

  “In English?” Lin raised an eyebrow. “The universe has a purpose. We have a role to play. It’s not magic, or religious mysticism. It’s a scientific process that has been going on since our universe was born—a process that will result in its end.”

  “And you’re telling me our genes reveal what, exactly?”

  “They are a medium. For a message.”

  Avery squinted. “A message from whom?”

  “I don’t know,” Lin said flatly.

  “Aliens?”

  “You’re comparing apples to oranges.”

  “What does that even mean, Lin?”

  “It means that your question is out of context, and more importantly, we’re out of time. I leave you with this: since our species emerged, our genes have been shifting. Several turning points in human history hastened these shifts. The cognitive revolution. Agriculture. Cities. The scientific revolution. They were necessary steps along the way. And each of these turning points left a bread crumb in our DNA. Think about it. It’s the perfect medium for a message.”

  “And you found those DNA samples on the Beagle. Now what?”

  “Only some of them. I believe the rest of the samples were hidden.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I suggest we discuss that en route.”

  Avery got up. “Fine. En route to where?”

  “Oxford.”

  “Mississippi.”

  “England.”

  “Okay, this helo is definitely not going to get to England.” Avery thought for a moment. “I refueled at Post-Rogers Memorial Airport on the way here. I saw a few planes.”

  “Any you can fly?” Adams asked.

  “I can fly anything.”

  Chapter 18

  Conner had ordered the vans to avoid Sand Hill Road. With the X1 treatment camp at Stanford, the thoroughfare would be crawling with mixed units of National Guard, Army, and FEMA employees. So they drove slowly through the residential roads of Sharon Heights, their headlights off, only the moonlight and occasional streetlamp lighting their way.

  They staggered their arrival. The scout van was the first to turn left off Middle Avenue onto Windsor.

  On his laptop screen, Conner watched the vehicle’s video feed. The street was lined with houses built in the sixties, though a few had been torn down and replaced with larger homes that looked slightly out of place. In a few years they would probably be the majority.

  Lin Shaw’s home was one of the originals. It was a ranch with a double garage, stucco exterior, and a shingle roof that was showing its age.

  As planned, the scout van drove by once. Save for a smattering of lights inside a few homes, the street was quiet, not a soul in sight. Conner knew that some of the residents were in the Stanford Treatment Center. Others had died. Many had fled—into the California mountains, or for those with the means, offshore to private islands. The ones left had ridden out the pandemic at home. With the recently enacted curfew, they would be peeking out their windows at any movement on the street.

  The scout van parked several houses down from Lin’s, and three of Conner’s men got out. In their unmarked black uniforms, they strode down the street with purpose, as if they belonged there.

  The view on Conner’s laptop split, and he saw a feed from the lead soldier’s helmet cam. He knocked on a door. Curtains in the window to the right were drawn back, and a woman’s face appeared, eyebrows raised. A click, and the door swung open, catching on a chain.

  “Yes?”

  She was middle-aged, with wavy brown hair and dark bags under her eyes.

  “Evening, ma’am. We’re just canvassing the neighborhood making sure everyone heard about the curfew.”

  She swallowed, seemed a little more at ease. “Yes, we heard.”

  “Good. Can we do anything for you?”

  She shook her head. “They brought food this morning.” She hesitated. “Our internet’s down. So is everyone else’s I’ve talked to—uh, during the day.”

  “We’re aware of that. Hope to get it fixed soon.”

  “Thank God. My daughter is in Seattle and we haven’t heard anything. Phones don’t work either.”

  “That’s connected to the internet issue. It’ll all be over soon.” The man’s words brought a smile to Conner’s face. “We’re going to be conducting operations on the street, so you’ll see some of my men and some other vans.”

  “Is everything—”

  “Nothing to worry about, ma’am. Just routine. Have a good night, now.”

  The next house was right beside Lin Shaw’s home. It looked deserted, and no one came to the door when the soldier knocked. He walked around the house, jumped the chain link fence, and used his knife to open a double-hung window. He searched the two-story residence quickly, confirmed it was empty, then opened the front door and let his team in. They set up a base of operations in the breakfast room off the kitchen, at the back of the house, out of view of anyone walking down the street.

  They opened a crate, drew out what looked like a camera with a telephoto lens, and connected it to a laptop.

  On his laptop, Conner watched them sweep the camera back and forth, revealing an infrared view of Lin Shaw’s home. There was nothing living inside. Still, Conner wasn’t taking any chances where Lin Shaw was involved. Or Desmond. The home could be booby-trapped, rigged to blow, or some kind of failsafe to facilitate Desmond’s rescue.

  Conner watched his team jump the fence between the two homes and set up a recreational camping tent that wouldn’t seem out of place in this residential neighborhood. The men placed the tent against the home’s rear wall and crowded inside, out of sight.

  One soldier drilled a hole in the wall, then used a hacksaw to make it larger, just big enough for a man to squeeze through. He reached into his black bag and took out a small rover. It was perfect for the search: rubber tracks, a long arm, and a 360-degree camera. The man slid it through the hole and manipulated it with the remote control.

  The rover crept through the home, revealing it in the green glow of night vision. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. Clothes were strewn across the bed. The alarm wasn’t set. All were indications of someone leaving in a hurry—or of someone who had wanted it to look that way.

  Methodically, the rover worked its way through the home. There were no cameras, no wiring to the doors or windows, just the standard alarm contacts.

  “Permission to breach?” the soldier asked over the comm.

  “Granted,” Conner replied.

  The men crawled through the hole, still wary of using a door or window. Within seconds, they had searched and secured the home.

  “Entry point?”

  “Garage,” Conner said. “Keep the lights off.”

  “Copy.”

  Conner’s van pulled away from the curb and crept through Menlo Park. When they arrived at Lin’s home, they backed into the driveway and into the garage. The door closed behind them.

  “Should we unload?” Dr. Park asked.

  “No. We need to stay mobile. But you should recharge your equipment.”

  Conner pulled out the phone and studied the
Labyrinth Reality app.

  Downloading…

  Extension cords were strung from outlets inside the home to Dr. Park’s equipment. Conner then waited while his troops canvassed the rest of the street and took up positions in abandoned homes at each end.

  The phone beeped.

  Download Complete

  Conner turned to the doctor, who was studying his laptop.

  “Brain waves just changed,” Park said. “Another one is starting.”

  “How long?”

  “If the patterns are consistent, this one is shorter. An hour maybe.”

  Conner got out and walked through the home, to the bay window in the living room. In the distance, he saw the light of the fire that burned at Sand Hill Road, the thick column of smoke rising to the moon. It was coming their way. For the second time in his life, he was trapped inside a home, a wildfire barreling toward him.

  Chapter 19

  Avery banked the helicopter and swept its exterior lights over the darkened airport. From the back, Peyton peered out. Post-Rogers Memorial Airport had only a single runway and no signs of life. She spotted two helicopters and five planes.

  The airport was a few miles outside Barrow, Alaska, the northernmost city in the United States. The city was small even before the X1 outbreak—less than five thousand inhabitants—and Peyton wondered how many they had now. They were over two hundred miles north of the Arctic Circle, which meant the sun wouldn’t rise again for another month. She felt as though she had lived in darkness for years; the sun was a distant memory.

  They landed, and stepped out into the cold December night. Avery paced ahead of the group to look the planes over. She strode quickly past the four single-engine prop planes and headed straight for the jet, which had a logo for an oil and gas exploration company Peyton didn’t recognize.

  “It’ll do,” she said.

  “How far away is Oxford?” Peyton asked.

  “Don’t know. London is four thousand miles, give or take.”

  Lin studied the plane. “Oxford’s close to London. I used to ride the train there twice a week. What’s the jet’s range?”