The Genome

by Sergei Lukyanenko

  “Attention, please.” Alex got up. “Fellow crewmembers, I will be informal.”

  Generalov smirked, sprawling in his chair. Kim took a sip from her goblet, still glaring at Alex. What was she drinking? Juice or wine?

  “This is my first flight as a captain,” said Alex. “And to be completely honest, I became Mirror’s captain by chance.”

  “You lucky …” said Morrison under his breath, although there was no longer any tension in his tone.

  “Yes, I am,” agreed Alex. “All thanks to Kim.”

  The girl lifted her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.

  “You all are here by chance …”

  It would be interesting to catch a glimpse of the Demon now. Would a skeptical grin appear on its little face?

  “And we’re all quite different. Janet is from Eben … her knowledge and experience are unique.”

  The black woman smiled dryly.

  “Paul is only just beginning his astronautical career, which promises to be outstanding.”

  The engineer lowered his gaze.

  “Puck is the only natural I know who works as a navigator. And he’s great at it.”

  The expression of Generalov’s sour face showed that he’d heard such compliments a million times and couldn’t care less—life was a joyless business, after all.

  “Kim is probably the youngest … as well as the loveliest fighter-spesh in the universe.”

  The girl peered at him searchingly.

  “And Xang hesitated so much before signing the contract, it became a matter of pride for me to persuade him.”

  Morrison threw up his arms with a deep sigh and left his right arm resting on the back of Kim’s chair.

  “Here’s to our crew, which is becoming a real team, a close-knit, happy family!” concluded Alex.

  They clinked their glasses.

  “Good wine,” reported Morrison, with a knowing air. “You know, I worked on a small ship from the Barton Company for two years. We shipped wines from Earth. Those were the best wines! And half a percent of every shipment was written off as damaged during transportation … but we were a very careful crew, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t know how I managed for two years!”

  Janet noted thoughtfully:

  “I first tried alcohol when I was thirty. When I was a POW. I didn’t want to live anymore … and I had been convinced that a glass of wine would kill me. On Eben, having alcohol, drugs, or tobacco was considered ruinous to your body, a crime against humanity.”

  “Poor things …” sighed Generalov.

  “We had many other pleasures in life,” said Janet. “No doubt we were missing out on some things. But that’s inevitable, after all. We all choose to miss out on some things, to have others instead.”

  “You should take everything life has to offer!” said Puck with great conviction.

  “Really?” Janet slit her eyes quizzically. “Then why don’t you have sex with women?”

  “I tried it. Didn’t like it!” hastily replied Generalov.

  “Maybe. But you’re missing out, a lot! You’re not taking everything life has to offer.”

  Generalov winced, but kept quiet.

  “And I simply have to have alcohol,” said Paul. “It’s part of my metabolism, and if I don’t have at least two ounces of pure alcohol every twenty-four hours, I get sick.”

  The conversation resembled a weird roll call. Kim was about to say something, but at that very moment, the hidden speakers came alive.

  “Captain.” The ship’s service program chose to address Alex alone. “Three life forms are approaching the ship.”

  “Our passengers are here … damn!” Morrison waved his hand in the air, holding an empty glass. His other hand was already on Kim’s shoulder, and the girl didn’t seem to notice. “What if they demand an immediate launch?”

  “We’re the crew, so we go by the rules.” Alex got up. “Janet, let’s go meet them. The rest of you, relax.”

  He should have taken Kim with him. But Alex didn’t want to risk introducing such an unusual fighter-spesh to the passengers at the very first meeting.

  They walked out into the cargo bay. Alex hastily straightened his uniform, using the shiny surface of a spacesuit unit as a mirror. Janet stretched her arms toward him, quickly straightening out his collar. Said in a quiet, soothing voice:

  “Everything’s all right, Captain. Don’t be nervous.”

  Alex smiled in reply. He didn’t have to pretend in her company. He said:

  “Computer, open the outer hatch and take in the newcomers.”

  The hatch in the floor came open, the ladder slid down. It was already dark outside, and only the intermittent flares of launching ships lit up the figures below.

  They stepped onto the platform all at the same time. The ladder started its ascent, drawing them inside.

  Two young girls, probably Kim’s age, stood at the front. They were pretty, dark-skinned, and smiling, completely identical twins. Each held a little suitcase.

  Behind them towered a tall man. So tall, in fact, that Alex’s own height of over six feet seemed hardly worth mentioning. The man was a Europeoid, his light hair cut very close, and his piercing eyes were a cold, icy blue. His clothes looked civilian but fit like a uniform. His voice was very low and heavy:

  “Alex Romanov, captain of the spaceship Mirror.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

  “Yes.” There was no need to repeat what the man had already said.

  “Very well.” The man extracted from his pocket a carefully folded sheet of paper. “I am Danila C-the-Third Shustov. You are now at my service.”

  Alex took the documents out of his hand without looking at them. Who would have thought! A clone! He glanced sidelong at Janet.

  Something was happening to her. Her face was absolutely still, frozen. Dead.

  “Let me introduce my wards and fellow travelers,” C-the-Third Shustov continued. “Zei-So and Sey-Zo, our distinguished guests from the Zzygou Swarm.”

  Alex unintentionally held his breath for a second, though that was not necessary. These Zzygou did not stink. Had no odor at all. They were just like humans.

  “Greetings!” sang out the Zzygou in unison. “Best of luck and health to you, servants!”

  Janet stood as still as a statue.

  “Show us to our quarters,” said the clone.

  Alex turned to Janet, using all his willpower to overcome his own stupor. His heart was pounding.

  If the woman from Eben lost it, she would kill both of the Zzygou with her bare hands. And that thuggish bodyguard, as well. At the very least, she’d try.

  “Doctor-spesh!”

  Janet slowly transferred her gaze onto Alex.

  “May I ask you … I order you to start preparing the sick bay for launch, immediately.”

  “Sick bay is ready,” said Janet in an even, empty tone of voice.

  “Conduct a thorough test of all systems.”

  She stood absolutely still for a few more seconds, then nodded and walked out of the cargo bay. One could only rejoice that it was impossible to slam an automatic door.

  “There are sick people aboard?” inquired the clone.

  Alex heaved a deep breath. Exhaled.

  “No, but better safe than sorry. I will show you to your quarters myself.”

  “We thank you, servant,” tunefully sang out the Zzygou.

  Operon II,

  Exogenous.

  The Others.

  Chapter 1

  The passenger quarters were located on the lower deck. The only way to get to them was through the central hall, passing by the recreation lounge.

  Alex led the way, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles whitened. Behind him came the laughing and bowing Zzygou. And finally, C-the-Third, a clone of the person named Danila Shustov. The recreation lounge was dead quiet—Janet had probably had a chance to mention something on her way to the sick bay.

  They went
down a narrow, winding staircase to the small circular hallway with six cabin doors facing it. The passenger quarters were double-occupancy cabins.

  “We thank you, servant,” chirped the Zzygou.

  For some reason, Alex was sure they’d take the same cabin, but they let go of each other’s hands and, with the same astonishing simultaneity of movement, went into two neighboring doors.

  “Mr. C-the-Third Shustov …” said Alex.

  “I’m listening, Captain.”

  “Could you tell me what the Sky Company does, and what the purpose of our trip is?”

  The clone showed absolutely no sign of surprise.

  “The Sky Company specializes in galactic tourism. We organize cruises within the human space sectors for visitors of the other races, as well as”—for some reason, the clone’s voice quivered—“for human visitors to planets of other civilizations.”

  “Our work will consist of transporting the Others?”

  “Yes.”

  Alex was silent a second before answering.

  “Mr. C-the-Third Shustov, in that case, the crew must include a linguist, an exopsychologist, and a doctor specializing in the Others.”

  “I am an expert in all these areas,” answered the imperturbable clone. “Captain, please tell me frankly—are you a xenophobe?”

  “No.” Alex firmly shook his head. “I’ve even had a few acquaintances among the Others.”

  “Then what is the problem? By the way, the term ‘Others’ is offensive. May I ask you to try to call our galactic neighbors ‘persons of another race’ or ‘persons of nonhuman descent’? Or, at the very least, the ‘other race,’ but never just ‘the Others’!”

  It would probably have been best to tell him right then and there exactly what the situation was. Tell him about Janet, who was from Eben and whose specialization was executioner-spesh.

  Except that the result would be the woman’s immediate dismissal.

  “All right, I’ll use the term ‘the other race.’”

  The clone fixed a probing stare on him. “Captain, this ship is made especially for cruises with life forms from other planets. Have you looked at the passenger quarters?”

  “Not closely. Personal control of the cabins is not my responsibility.”

  “If you had bothered to look, you wouldn’t be so surprised now. The passenger quarters are designed to accommodate any life form. Adjustable atmosphere and gravity, a wide range of temperature, programmable food synthesizers …”

  “My mistake,” admitted Alex. “But … I’ve never heard of such cruise vessels before.”

  “Well, now you have,” shrugged the clone. “How soon will you be ready for launch?”

  “Any time.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. We’d prefer to start in an hour, an hour and a half.”

  Alex nodded.

  “And the route?”

  “The documents I gave you contain all the necessary information. The honorable Zzygou wish to see the famous waterfalls of Edem. We could, I suppose, make a stop or two on the way, say, at Zodiac. Have you ever seen the drift of the giant lotuses?”

  “I haven’t …”

  “Neither have I.” The clone smiled. “But it’s rumored to be a marvelous sight. Right now, it’s the beginning of the dry season on Zodiac. Has it occurred to you that working for this company gives you great advantages, Captain? You can travel to some of the most beautiful planets of the human sector, free of charge. Even get paid for it.”

  “Yes, of course …” Alex licked his lips, suddenly remembering Generalov’s recent efforts to plot a course from Quicksilver Pit through Zodiac and Lard Crest to Edem.

  “Would you mind just one more question, Mr. C-the-Third Shustov?”

  “Please just call me C-the-Third.” The clone obviously had no inhibitions about his own origins. “Not at all, go ahead!”

  “Why is there no odor?” Alex nodded towards the cabins taken up by the Zzygou.

  “The Zzygou are a race of highly advanced biotechnology. They’ve found a way to block the release of merkaptane. It causes them some discomfort, but the Zzygou are willing to endure it for the sake of human comfort.”

  “I see. In that case, perhaps you could also ask them not to call us ‘servants’? For the sake of the comfort of the crew.”

  “All of us are masters and servants at different times in our lives,” remarked C-the-Third with a melancholy air. “Maybe when I take a cruise through their sector of space, I’ll get to call the Zzygou ‘servants’ as well. But of course, I’ll try to explain the situation to them.”

  “Thanks.”

  Alex had already braced himself to speak. Almost, but not quite.

  “Is everything all right?” asked C-the-Third, looking closely at him.

  “Yes, of course. We take off in fifty-six minutes. Agreed?”

  The clone looked at his watch.

  “Agreed, Captain. I will inform my wards.”

  Alex left, without saying a single word about Janet or her problems with the Others.

  Strangely, as he entered the recreation lounge, the discussion that had been raging there suddenly ceased. It didn’t look like they were just patiently waiting for him. More likely, they had been saying something unpleasant behind his back. Kim sat tense and annoyed, and Morrison looked uncomfortable, as if he had been forced to defend a position he didn’t exactly hold or argue for something he didn’t really believe.

  “Attention, please,” said Alex. Reflected for a second and sat down. He still had some time left, after all.

  “We are all ears, Captain,” said Generalov with emphatic courtesy. It was obvious who had initiated the heated discussion.

  “Our passengers have arrived,” Alex continued. “As you already gathered, they are two visitors from the allied race of Zzygou and their guide, a specialist in communications with the Others, Danila C-the-Third Shustov. Apparently, we can all call him simply C-the-Third.”

  “A clone?” asked Paul for some reason.

  “Yes, Engineer. A clone. I hope no one here is a chauvinist? The Zzygou are an intelligent and peaceful race …”

  “The hell they are! Who cares about the damn Zzygou, anyway!” Generalov’s politeness suddenly failed him. “Captain, you never warned us that there’d be a clone in the crew!”

  “He is not in the crew,” Alex pointed out. “C-the-Third is a Sky Company employee, just like us. His task is to accompany the Zzygou and provide all the necessary services …”

  “Sexual services,” sneered Generalov.

  “I didn’t delve into the details.” Alex continued to speak with the same even tone of voice, but that seemed only to augment everyone’s annoyance. “Clones have the same rights as all the other citizens of the Empire.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?!” Puck clasped his hands in anger. “Cloning is the way to human degeneration! These nasty clones are everywhere! Entertainment clones, government clones, and now, space clones!”

  “Why should it bother you so much?” asked Alex. Generalov exhaled heavily. But he answered a bit more calmly:

  “It doesn’t. I don’t intend to clone myself. But it’s totally unnatural! Human strength is in human diversity. Nature intended everyone’s genetic makeup to be unique, so cloning is immoral! Don’t you agree, Captain?”

  “On the whole, I do, yes.”

  “And what would cloning lead to? Do we want to end up like the Zzygou or the Bronins? At least the Zzygou clone naturally, and the Bronins have a very high death rate. Without cloning, they’d go extinct. But if we all start cloning ourselves, we’ll turn into a crowd of scum, living robots with serial numbers. One genotype for pilots, another for garbage collectors, the third one for rulers. Hell, we’ll get mass-produced on a conveyor belt!”

  “Puck, you’re exaggerating! Clones in human society make up no more than five percent of the total population. And most of them are residents of far-flung, newly colonized planets. Cloning is essential there.”


  “Hah!” Generalov laughed without mirth. “Those are the official numbers! Clones are actually much more numerous. And all the sympathizers, who no doubt would clone themselves at the first opportunity, only pour oil on the flames! Lots of people we consider normal humans are really clones who have changed their appearance and gotten their claws on good jobs! And where there’s a clone, no normal person has a chance! The clone will only have more of his own clones!”

  Paul cleared his throat and shyly added:

  “Captain, Puck has a point. I also think that giving clones full citizenship rights was a mistake. We had this one guy at the academy, Aristark Yosilidi, a good spesh … very talented. He was offered the chance to clone himself, and he agreed. In fourteen years, seven of his clones will be coming to the academy, can you imagine that? His abilities are very strong, so they’ll all be accepted, no doubt about it. And that means that seven ordinary speshes won’t be able to get in. See? And what if every one of the seven clones also cloned himself? In twenty-eight years, the entire department would be full of Aristarks-C. Yosilidi!”

  “Exactly!” Generalov elbowed Paul’s side. “He knows what I’m talking about! He had a chance to see for himself!”

  “That’s stupid!” Kim jumped up. “I have two clone friends! One of them wants to be an electronics engineer, like her matrix. But not the other one. She wants to be an assembly-spesh in an orbital shipyard. She wants to build spaceships!”

  “If the girls’ specialization is not too narrowly defined, they’ll do just fine, too …” said Morrison without much certainty in his tone, then darted an anxious glance at Alex. It was high time to break up the argument.

  “All right, thank you all for an interesting discussion.” Alex got up. “We’ll continue this later, okay? And now, some useful information. We all signed the contract. We all work for a company that pays us a lot of money.”

  “That promises to pay us,” interjected Generalov. He probably didn’t really think that the company would risk a fight with the union by deceiving the crew. More likely, he just wanted to have the last word. Now it was plain to Alex why this uniquely qualified navigator never stayed at any one job for very long.