The Sons of Adam: The sequel of The Immortal Collection

by Eva García Sáenz

  I looked at the clock. My first impulse was to share my findings with my father, but Marion would be back at any minute.

  No, I wasn't going to tell her about it. I still had so many questions to ask her about her past, to many gaps to fill.

  Was she alone when she was born? Did she live with her family? Was she on her own when she discovered her longevity?

  How had she managed to get by for six millennia?

  Didn't she ever have a moment of desperation, when she wanted to throw the towel in, plunge a dagger into her own stomach?

  Had she always been self-sufficient, had she always taken care of herself? How many children, how many companions, how many deaths did she have behind her. Was she always rich, distinguished, didn't she ever lose her fortune, had all the governments and leaders been on her side, how many falls of empires had she escaped from in time?

  The only reason I hadn't asked her all these questions was because I was afraid of the answers, and my only goal at that time was to save Dana.

  The rest, even the answers to the enigma that was Marion, could wait.

  And telling Marion about my new line of research would mean telling her about the secret of the longevo gene: that it wasn't a mutation, that the telomerase wasn't the only answer, that we were immune to cancer and that combination made us unique.

  So I ran down the stairs, to the third floor, to get the files from the research that Flemming sent me. I buried myself in them until I heard the doorbell and opened the door for Marion, after having hid all the material.

  Marion found me back in the lab, with a lighter heart and a glow of hope in my eyes that I had to try and hide.

  "I picked you up some food from the Cañadío, I was guessing that you still haven't had any dinner," she said, putting a recycled cardboard tray on the bench, that smelled amazing.

  I silently thanked that way she had of being concerned about my lack of sleep and my love of hot food.

  Then she put her lab coat back on and went over to the cages.

  "By the way," she said, looking puzzled, crossing her arms and turning to face me, "has a mouse escaped?"

  "I'm afraid so. You were right, I'm too exhausted and I should rest. I'm not being very productive right now. I'm going to bed, and you should call it a night as well. We'll start again first thing in the morning, if you like."

  She nodded, not very convinced at seeing me give in so easily, and left in silence.

  I went to the window and watched her disappear into the mist of the Santander night. I turned off the lab lights and went down to the third floor, where I spent the night planning my new line of research with the HeLa cells.

  So often, I had been an addict of ´even harder´, of pushing the limits of my strength and my brain, of that dual challenge that posed no insurmountable obstacle. I was a trained soldier. By day I continued with the research of the oncolytic viruses with Marion, and by night, I freed the apparatus that Flemming had given me from their cases, which I had never got rid of, and began a process that I already knew: get hold of cells with active telomerase for Nagorno.

  I would rest when I had Dana in my arms. In the house that was waiting for us, that I had refused to go back to.

  But unfortunately, the truth was another matter. As the days went by, and we made very little progress with the research and the oncolytic virus, Marion became concerned, worried about me.

  "I don't understand, we've got two days left and nothing conclusive. Why aren't you more upset?"

  I know she was looking at me apprehensively. I hadn't found time to shave in days, my closets were empty because I didn't have time to wash and iron my clothes, and eating was no longer among my priorities.

  "I am, believe me. I am."

  I looked horrific, but the nights of insomnia were quickly paying off and I was finding it difficult to pretend that our research was giving me hope.

  Two days to free Dana.

  My own countdown.

  "That's not the way it looks. Iago, maybe you're building up false hopes. The formula we're going to give your brother has little possibility of curing him."

  "But it has some, even though it is minimal, it's better than nothing, and I owe that to you," I argued with her, over and over again. But she really wasn't being fooled by my sudden confidence.

  The day of the deadline finally arrived. I had had a long night, a very long night. And a very long day. As far as Marion was concerned, we had synthesized a fairly promising compound using a virus, although we were concerned that we hadn't had time to tests its effects, not even on the mice. Behind her back, the time had come to replicate Flemming's work and copy the same thing he had done to his cells in Nagorno's cells.

  Nagorno called ahead of time.

  "Is it ready?" he asked, for the umpteenth time.

  "It is, Nagorno, it is. Tell me where I need to send it to.

  Nagorno took a few seconds to react, then he recovered his cool, or at least pretended to, and sent me a messenger from a company I had never heard of to pick up the injection in a couple of hours.

  "Are you going to send it to him then?" Marion asked, as soon as I hung up. "You're going to kill him, your wife will die, and it will be your fault."

  "I hope not."

  She looked at me with a strange expression on her face, as if I had seriously deceived her. She took the lab coat off, hung it on the coat rack and walked over to the door of the laboratory.

  "I'm going back to Paris, Iago del Castillo. I promised to help you as much as I could, and that's what I've done. But I'd like for your wife to live, I told you that. I wouldn't want you to come back to me just looking for comfort. But over time I've learned that only the present exists. You talk to me between the lines, about the time that will come when Adriana dies, and I know the inevitability of that time. But I found you today, today, Iago."

  We held each other's gaze longer than necessary. In the end I looked away. None of all this made much sense.

  "Marion, I'm doing everything I can so that Adriana lives. I'm not going to talk about anything else right now. I will always be in debt to you for the favor you've done, and you can count on me for anything you need in the future. That's not changed.

  I never begged you for anything. We were both conscious of what we were getting ourselves into."

  "Well, now I'm leaving and you're not trying to stop me," she said, with that royal half-smile. And she turned around without looking back.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets, clenched my fists and let her disappear from my life again.

  31

  High hopes

  ADRIANA

  The following days didn't bring many explications and the uncertainty was driving me crazy. Time was up. Gunnarr didn't visit my cell that night and no one came to take me out all day. I ate from the cold plate of food I had left over from the day before and rationed my water in case the situation stretched itself out for too long.

  The next day someone opened the door of the cell and left several plates of food on the floor. It wasn't even hot.

  What was happening?

  All the answers came at dusk.

  I could hear footsteps in the corridor and I jumped up anxiously. I was expecting to see Gunnarr come in, but he wasn't alone. Nagorno was with him. A Nagorno that reminded me too much of Jairo del Castillo I met one day at an exhibition at the museum.

  He didn't have a cane, he had removed the over-long 19th century robe and he smelled of cologne, as if he was getting ready for one of his exclusive parties. Something in his body had changed, his arms and legs were no longer weighing him down, his back wasn't hunched over, he no longer found it difficult to breath. He smiled at me with a new expression, it was different, a face that I'd never seen before. I would say he was happy.

  He held out his arm, inviting me to leave the cell.

  "Adriana, my dear Adriana. Please forgive us for the inconvenience we've caused you. You can be absolutely sure that nothing like this will ever ha
ppen again. Come upstairs to the main floor with us, I beg you. You'll soon be back with your husband, with whom you should never have been separated. Meanwhile, I want you to be treated as you deserve. I hope that you will agree to sleep in one of the castle's suites until my brother arrives to collect you."

  My eyes were the size of dinner plates, and I looked at Gunnarr, who was standing behind his uncle, giving him a look that begged for an explanation. He made a face that Nagorno couldn't see, promising that he would tell me everything later.

  "You must be starving. Today there will be a feast in your honor. I would like you to try the delicacies of the area. Please accept our offer and dine with us, would you? Would you do that for us?"

  I held my hand up, turned around and stood with my back to them. My legs were shaking ever so slightly. The kidnapping was over. I closed my eyes. I had survived. I wouldn't live for millennia like they would, but I would survive.

  I looked at the four walls for the last time.

  "I'm ready, Nagorno. Let's leave this behind us," I said.

  And I heard the sound of the door being locked behind me.

  My new room turned out to be a luxury suite from a seven star hotel. I expected a heavy, medieval bedroom, but the decoration was modern and everything was newly refurbished, and it looked as though I was going to be the first person to sleep in it. Soft gray and beige tones, a huge bed with elegant cushions. Several couches that looked both comfortable and functional.

  Dinner included extravagant smoked salmon, cheeses of noble origin and flavors that my budget would never know. I ate everything, but I couldn't talk. I was waiting for my release and I was too tired to be strong and put on a brave face.

  Nagorno and Gunnarr, on the other hand, pretended not to notice and they bore me with anecdotes of traders and drunks, military strategies and art auctions. They jumped from one century to another, like rearing horses, toasting with wine from my birth year. There was something exaggerated in their reactions and I think that deep down they were just as relieved as I was.

  Hours later, in my new bedroom, I received Gunnarr's visit.

  "Let me guess," I said, sitting in a comfortable gray leather armchair. "Nagorno is making up for lost time with three Scottish aristocrat women."

  "Not yet, not yet," he said, scratching his head, as if he had been caught committing a foul. "He doesn't dare to yet, but it won't be long.

  My father is a genius, and the injection is miraculous. His heart is beating like normal again and the cardiologists don't see any signs of senility, they're amazed. All of his vital signs seem to be back to normal. He'll have to have a check-up in a couple of days, but everything seems to be going well. I don't know if you're aware of what my father's achieved here, stedmor."

  "Do you mean saving the life of his wife and his brother in three weeks?"

  "Yes, that's what I mean... What he did, he injected something my Uncle Nagorno and turned him old, and now he's made him young again. Do you realize how insane it all is? Well, there will be consequences, this won't be forgotten."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Nothing, stedmor. I don't want to worry you. These are days for celebration, of great hope. You can finally rest as you deserve, and shortly you will never have to see this captor again."

  I didn't know if I was happy to hear those words, but with Gunnarr, you couldn't be sure of anything. What did it matter. The nightmare was nearly over.

  I'm coming home, Iago. I'm coming home.

  32

  Second massacre

  LÜR

  Sierra de Cantabria, current Alava, Spain 19,500 B.C.

  Lür had been climbing mountains for several days in search of a deer. He had found the pointed prints of a doe, but he was finding it hard to catch her, so he decided to abandon the hunt and get back to his people as soon as possible. Winter had been hard, but they'd survived. They'd survived.

  They'd stored frozen meat in the cracks of a rock formation in the mountain range. His sons considered it to be sacred, and some had learned to climb it even before they had learned to throw spears.

  He went inside the narrow cave but couldn't find the meat that he'd left there days before. He climbed out of the crack and set fire to a branch to help him see better inside the darkness of the rock.

  But the piece of meat wasn't there. In its place, on the floor, he found seven cowrie shells. Seven, like the number of his children who had survived their first teething.

  He dropped the branch and ran down the hill, until he reached the camp.

  But he was too late and he knew it.

  The spears he had carved with his own hands had been rammed through them all.

  The smallest, just three winters old, was still groaning, but Lür saw the wound and knew that there was nothing he could do.

  He forced himself to sacrifice the child to end his suffering.

  He swore that he would never return to the south side of the Great Crest whilst the Sons of Adam were still alive.

  33

  Brother's word

  IAGO

  I received the call from my brother at the usual time. He sounded different. I knew all his different voices and that there was a vigorous man, full of energy, on the other end of the line.

  "I'll give her back to you in two days. You've earned her, but I hope you've learned that you must never do this to me again."

  "Where and when, Nagorno?" I cut in, impatiently.

  "Give me your word."

  "Where and when?"

  "Give me your fucking word that you will never use your discoveries against me again," he roared.

  I thought for a few seconds, he still had her. I still had Dana. I wasn't in any position to make demands. Yet.

  "Ok, Nagorno," I gave in. You have my word.

  "In two days time, go to Santander airport first thing in the morning, I'll send a message to your cell with an e-ticket and the destination. You'll pick up your wife and we won't have anything to do with each other until Adriana dies from natural causes. That's the deal, and you also have my word, brother."

  34

  Cold

  ADRIANA

  I was woken by the sound of someone knocking on the door of my new bedroom. I jumped out of bed and looked around me, disorientated. It took a while for me to recognize the fabric-covered walls, so different than the stone walls that I had been surrounded by over the last few weeks.

  That someone kept knocking on the other side of the door, so I carefully went over in my pajamas and opened it.

  I found Nagorno smiling, carrying a tray and dressed in riding clothes, with high dress boots, a fitted jacket and a vest.

  "You'll be leaving tomorrow, my dear Adriana," he said, as way of a greeting, coming into the bedroom and placing the tray on a small table between two chairs. Allow me to invite you to come horse riding with me on this splendid morning."

  As he spoke, he poured some juice into my glass, which I hadn't asked for, and stirred the sugar in the coffee that I wasn't sure I wanted to try.

  "Nagorno, you can't come in here and start imposing... " I started to say.

  "Oh, yes. Oh yes I can," he interrupted, with a husky, seductive voice. "You're still my guest. Give me this gift before you leave, Adriana. I've always wanted to ride with you."

  "And Gunnarr?" I asked.

  He didn't like my question, but he hid it with his amazing smile.

  "Gunnarr is getting everything ready for your departure. Don't worry, he'll join us later."

  So he felt strong, he trusted that he was better. Otherwise, Gunnarr wouldn't have dared to leave me alone with him on that island on the back of a horse.

  He waited patiently while I finished breakfast, interrupted by a thousand calls on his 24 carat gold iPhone, which he answered, giving short orders in seven different languages.

  "Business," he apologized. “I've been neglecting it somewhat lately. The sooner I get back on top of things, the sooner I can put this nig
htmare behind me."

  Shortly after, we were both riding on the golden horses. Nagorno had taken a cane with him. A cane that he no longer needed, but he didn't give any explanation as to what he was going to use it for.

  Seeing Nagorno on Altai was a unique experience. I'd never seen such an expert jockey or a horse so attached to its master. They were both elegant, stylized, acrobats.

  He took me to one off the cliffs and we dismounted. A breeze began to blow and play with my hair. He smiled contently, as if he had given an order, without taking his eyes of me. He took the cane and threw it into the sea, as if it were a spear. I had to admire his agility. All his movements were like a dance, part of a choreography.

  "Every new stage needs its rite of passage," he said, solemnly. “I wanted you to be a witness to the start of my new life. Come, sit next to me, my dear Adriana. This will be the last time we talk."

  I obeyed, without even wondering whether it was an order or an invitation.

  We sat on the grass, looking over the cliff, with the horses grazing behind us.

  "Do you think it's changed you?" I asked him, looking at the choppy ocean waves.

  "Do you mean this experience?" he said, plucking a blade of grass.

  "I mean feeling mortal for once. You never considered yourself to be a longevo, you thought that you were immune to death. It must have been hard," I commented, without looking at him.

  "I'm a pleasure-seeker, you know that. I love life and the beauty of this planet. I don't want to ever leave it. I know that your husband lives in torment because of his knowledge of the past and the threats of the future, but I never stop finding things that take my breath away every morning. I value. I appreciate. I surround myself with the best and immerge myself in the privileges of life. Although I always yearn to have the power to be able to share that with someone, and not just spend decades talking to myself. Gunnarr is my most cherished companion. He is less romantic, he doesn't need the exclusiveness that I enjoy so much, but he's also a hedonist. Every day needs a reason, a moment of pleasure, of enjoyment, like sitting here, you and I, now. That's how I brought him up. There's no point in living as many years as us if the journey is only made up of pain and suffering."