Neanderthal Parallax 3 - Hybrids

by Robert J. Sawyer

“Abused them how?” asked Ponter.

  “Sexually.”

  Ponter looked down at Mega; she seemed to be paying no attention to what they were saying. “Define ‘children.’ ”

  “Little boys and girls, three, four years old, and up.”

  “Then it’s good that these priests are celibate. The gene for this activity should become extinct.”

  “You’d think,” said Mary. She shrugged. “Maybe you guys do have it right, sterilizing not just the perpetrator, but also those who share at least half his genetic material. If anything, it seems that priestly child abuse is reaching epidemic proportions.” She hefted the Globe . “At least, that’s the impression you get by reading newspapers.”

  “I cannot read them,” said Ponter, “although I hope to learn. But I have seen your television news and heard news on the radio from time to time. I have heard the comments: ‘When are we going to see the dark side of Neanderthal civilization? Surely they must have bad qualities, too.’ But I tell you, Mare”—Christine could have substituted Mary’s full name for Ponter’s utterance, but she didn’t—“we have nothing to compare with your child molesters, with your polluters, with your makers and users of bombs, with your slavery, with your terrorists. We are hiding nothing, and yet the belief persists that we must have comparably bad things. I don’t know if this fallacy is related to your religious impulses, but it does seem to do similar damage: your people believe that a certain amount of evil is inevitable, unavoidable. But it’s not. If any benefit comes from the contact between your world and mine, perhaps it can be that realization.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Mary. “But, you know, we do make progress over time. And that’s where the new Pope comes in.”

  “Daddy, look!” said Mega, pointing out the window. “Another helicopter!”

  Ponter craned his neck. “So there is,” he said, stroking his daughter’s hair. “Well, you know, lots of people have to travel to go see their loved ones when Two become One.”

  Mary waited until Mega had gone back to staring out the window. “A lot depends,” she said, “on what the new Pope decides to do—or, to put it as my faith would, on what God tells him to do. The last Pope wasn’t effective in dealing with the problem of child abuse by priests. But the new Pope could really go to town on that. And he could put an end to the celibacy requirement for priests. He could come up with a less-extreme anti-abortion policy. He could recognize homosexuals.”

  “Recognize them how? Do they look different?”

  “No, what I mean is that my Church considers same-sex relationships to be a sin. But the new Pope might lighten up on that, and on everything else.”

  “What are you own beliefs in these matters?”

  “Me?” said Mary. “I’m pro-choice—that is, in favor of letting a woman choose whether or not to complete a pregnancy. I’ve got nothing against homosexuality. I don’t think that priests should be forced to be celibate. And I certainly don’t think marriages should be hard to dissolve. That’s the big one for me right now, of course: Colm and I agreed to get an annulment—basically, stating before the Church and God that our marriage never existed, so that it could be expunged from the records. Now, though…” She paused, then went on. “Now, I guess we should wait a bit to see what the new Pope is likely to do. If he allows Catholics to divorce without leaving the Church, I’d be much happier.”

  Another Neanderthal leaned over just then. “We’re about to land in Kraldak, sir. You’ll have to strap your daughter in.”

  Ponter summoned a travel cube to take him, Mary, and Mega out to the location Hak had identified. The male driver did not seem to want the assignment—the cabin was far beyond Kraldak Rim—but Ponter finally convinced him. The cube flew over rocky outcroppings, negotiated around stands of trees, and cut across several small lakes, until at last it arrived at the spot Hak had identified.

  They got out and approached the structure. It was a sort of log cabin, but the logs were standing on their ends, rather than stacked horizontally. Ponter knocked on the door, but there was no response. He operated the starfish-shaped handle, opening the door, and—

  And little Mega let out a great yelp.

  Mary felt her own blood run cold. Facing her, on the opposite wall, illuminated by a shaft of light entering from a window, was the giant skull of…

  It couldn’t be, but…

  But it certainly looked like one: a cyclops. A deformed skull, with a massive central eye socket.

  Ponter had picked up his daughter, and was soothing her. “It’s just a mammoth skull,” he said. Mary realized he was right. The tusks had been removed, and the central hole had accommodated the trunk in life.

  Ponter called out Vissan’s name, but the cabin was just a single large room, with a central eating table, a single chair, hide rugs on the floor, a stone fireplace and a cluster of logs, and a pile of clothing in one corner; there was no way anyone could be hiding within. Mary turned around, looking back at the countryside, hoping to spot Vissan, but she could be anywhere …

  “Scholar Boddit!” It was the driver of the travel cube.

  Ponter went back to the door. “Yes?” he shouted.

  “How long will we be?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ponter. “A daytenth or more, I should think.”

  The driver considered this. “Well, then I’m going to go hunting,” he declared. “It’s been months since I’ve been this far out in the country.”

  “Have fun,” said Ponter, waving at the man. Ponter then went back into the cabin, and headed over to the pile of clothing in the corner. He picked up a shirt, and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply. He did the same thing with several other pieces of clothing, then nodded to Mary. “Okay,” he said, “I’ve got her scent.”

  Ponter boosted Mega up on his shoulders, and went out the front door. Mary followed, closing the door behind her. Ponter flared his nostrils, sucking in air, and walked most of the way around the house, before he stopped. “That way,” he said, pointing to the east.

  “Great,” said Mary. “Let’s go.”

  Little Neanderthal girls knew all about gathering but rarely got to see a hunter at work, and Mega seemed to be loving the adventure. Even with her perched on his shoulders, Ponter managed a brisk pace over the rock outcroppings and through the forest. Mary struggled to keep up. At one point, they startled some deer, who ran away; at another, their arrival set a flock of passenger pigeons into flight.

  Mary wasn’t good at judging distance in the wilderness, but they must have gone six or seven kilometers before Ponter finally pointed to a figure in the distance, bent over, near a stream.

  “There she is,” he said softly. “She’s upwind of us, so I’m sure she doesn’t know we’re here yet.”

  “All right,” said Mary. “Let’s get closer.”

  Ponter admonished Mega to be quiet, and they moved to within about forty meters of the female Neanderthal. But then Mary stepped on a stick, which cracked loudly, and the woman looked up, startled. The tableau held for a second, with Ponter, Mary, and Mega looking at the woman, and the woman looking back at them—and then the female Neanderthal took off, running away.

  “Wait!” shouted Mary. “Don’t go!”

  Mary hadn’t expected her words to do any good, but the female stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. And then it hit Mary: she’d shouted in English, and although Christine had dutifully translated a moment later, the woman had probably never heard either a voice so high-pitched or that strange alien language before. Someone who had been living on her own, without a Companion or a Voyeur, since early in the summer would have no idea that a portal had opened up to a parallel universe.

  Ponter, Mega, and Mary closed some of the distance, getting within twenty meters of the woman, who had a look of absolute astonishment spread across her broad face.

  “What—what are you?” she said in the Neanderthal tongue.

  “I’m Mary Vaughan,” called Mary. “Please, d
on’t run off! Are you Vissan Lennet?”

  The female’s broad jaw dropped—and Mary realized she’d said words that contained the never-before-heard ee phoneme.

  “Yes,” said Vissan in the Neanderthal tongue. “I’m Vissan—but please don’t hurt me.”

  Mary looked at Ponter, surprised, but then called back. “Of course we won’t hurt you!” Then, to Ponter: “Why would she be afraid of us?”

  Ponter spoke softly. “She has no Companion. No record is being made for her benefit of this encounter, and she has no status under our law—she could never order a review of our own recordings at the alibi archives.”

  “Don’t be afraid!” called out Mega helpfully. “We’re nice!”

  Ponter, Mary, and Mega had managed to get another five meters closer to Vissan without her running off. “What are you?” said Vissan again.

  “She’s a Gliksin!” said Mega. “Can’t you tell?”

  Vissan stared at Mary. “No, really. What are you?”

  “Mega’s right. I am what you’d call a Gliksin.”

  “Astonishment!” said Vissan. “But—but you are an adult. If someone had recovered Gliksin genetic material many tenmonths ago, I would surely have known.”

  It took a moment for Mary to figure out what Vissan meant; she thought Mary was a clone, made from ancient DNA.

  “No, that’s not it. I’m—”

  “Let me,” said Ponter. “Vissan, do you know who I am?”

  Vissan narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “No.”

  “That’s my daddy,” said Mega. “His name’s Ponter Boddit. He’s a 145. I’m a 148!”

  “Do you know of a chemist named Lurt Fradlo?” asked Ponter, looking at Vissan.

  “Fradlo? Of Saldak? I know her work.”

  “She’s Adikor’s woman-mate,” said Mega. “And Adikor is my daddy’s man-mate.”

  Ponter put a hand on Mega’s shoulder. “That’s right. Adikor and I are both quantum physicists. Together, he and I accessed an alternative reality in which Gliksins survived to the present day and Barasts did not.”

  “You’re ruffling my back hair,” said Vissan.

  “No, he’s not!” said Mega. “It’s true! Daddy disappeared into another world, down in the Debral nickel mine. Nobody knew what happened to him. Daklar thought Adikor had done something bad to Daddy, but Adikor’s a good guy; he’d never do anything like that! Jasmel—that’s my sister—she worked with Adikor to bring Daddy back. But then they made a portal that’s always open, and Mare came through from the other side.”

  “No,” said Vissan, looking down. “She must be of this world. She has a Companion.”

  Mary looked down, as well; a bit of Christine’s faceplate was protruding past her jacket’s sleeve. She took off her jacket, rolled up her shirtsleeve, and held out her arm. “But my Companion has only recently been installed,” said Mary. “The wound is still healing.”

  Vissan took her first step toward Mary, then another, then one more. “So it is,” she said at last.

  “What we are saying is true,” said Ponter. He gestured at Mary. “You can see that it’s true.”

  Vissan placed her hands on her broad hips, and studied Mary’s face, with its tiny nose, high forehead, and bony projection from the lower jaw. Then, her voice full of wonder, she said, “Yes, I suppose I can.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “ Scientists tell us that our kind of humans moved up to the northern tip of Africa, looked north across the Strait of Gibraltar, and saw new land there—and, of course, as seems natural to us, we risked crossing that treacherous channel, moving into Europe…”

  Vissan was a 144, most of a decade older than Mary. She had green eyes and hair that was predominantly gray, with only a few blond streaks betraying its original color. She was wearing fairly ragged manufactured clothing that had been patched here and there by pieces of hide, and was carrying a leather bag, presumably containing the bounty she’d gathered that morning.

  The four of them were walking back toward Vissan’s cabin. “All right,” she said, looking at Mary, “I accept your story of who you are. But I still don’t know why you have sought me out.”

  They had come to a small stream. Ponter picked up Mega and hopped over it first, then he offered his hand to help Mary across. Vissan forded the stream herself.

  “I’m a life chemist, too,” said Mary. “We’re interested in your codon writer.”

  “It is banned,” said Vissan, lifting her shoulder. “Banned by a bunch of short-headed fools.”

  Ponter made a silencing motion. Up ahead were some more deer. Mary looked at the beautiful creatures.

  “Vissan,” whispered Ponter, although Christine gave the translation a greater volume, since only Mary could hear that. “Do you have enough food? I would gladly bring down one of those deer for you.”

  Vissan laughed, and spoke in a normal voice. “You are kind, Ponter, but I am doing fine.”

  Ponter dipped his head, and they continued on, until the deer scattered of their own accord. Up ahead, Vissan’s cabin was visible.

  “My interest in the codon writer isn’t just academic,” said Mary. “Ponter and I wish to have a child.”

  “I’m going to have a little sister!” said Mega. “I already have a big sister. Not many people get to have a big sister and a little sister, so I’m special.”

  “That’s right, darling,” said Mary. “You’re very special.” She turned back to Vissan.

  “What of your Barast woman-mate?” asked Vissan, looking now at Ponter.

  “She is no more,” said Ponter.

  “Ah,” said Vissan. “I’m sorry.”

  They had reached the cabin. Vissan opened the door and motioned for Ponter, Mary, and Mega to follow her in. Vissan took off her fur coat—

  —and Mary saw the hideous scarring on the inside of her left forearm, where she’d carved out her Companion.

  Ponter sat down with Mega at the table, giving her some attention. Mega had picked up a pine cone and two nice stones on the way back that she wanted her father to see.

  Mary looked at Vissan. “So,” she said, “does your prototype still exist?”

  “Why do you need it?” asked Vissan. “Has one of you been sterilized by the government?”

  “No,” said Mary. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then why do you need my device?”

  Mary looked over at Ponter, who was listening intently to Mega, who was now telling him about things she’d been learning in school. “Barasts and Gliksins, plus chimpanzees, bonobos, gorillas, and orangutans, all have a common ancestor,” said Mary. “That ancestor apparently had twenty-four pairs of chromosomes, as do all of its descendants except Gliksins. In Gliksins, two chromosomes have fused into one, meaning we only have twenty-three pairs. The overall genome is the same length, but the differing chromosome count would make a natural conception problematic.”

  “Fascinating!” said Vissan. “Yes, the codon writer could easily produce a matched diploid set of chromosomes that combined Ponter’s DNA and your own.”

  “So we’d hoped,” said Mary. “Which is why we’re interested in whether the prototype still exists.”

  “Oh, it exists, all right,” said Vissan. “But I can’t let you have it—it’s a banned device. As much as I hate that fact, it is the reality. You would be punished for possessing it.”

  “It is banned here,” said Mary.

  “Not just here in the vicinity of Kraldak,” said Vissan. “It is banned all over the world.”

  “All over this world,” said Mary. “But not in my world. I could take it back there; Ponter and I could conceive there.”

  Vissan’s eyes went wide under her undulating browridge. She was quiet for a few moments, and Mary knew better than to interrupt her thinking. “I suppose you could, at that,” said Vissan, at last. “Why not? Better that somebody get the benefit of it, rather than no one.” She paused. “You would need medical aid still,” said Vissan, �
��to remove an egg from your body. Your natural haploid set of chromosomes would be vacuumed out of it, and a doctor would add in a full diploid set of chromosomes created using the codon writer. The egg would then be implanted in your womb. From that point on, it will be precisely like a regular pregnancy.” She smiled. “Cravings for salted tubers, morning sickness, and all.”

  Mary had been enthusiastic when it had all been abstract—a magical, black-box solution. But now…“I…I hadn’t realized you would eliminate my natural DNA. I thought we’d just remap Ponter’s DNA so that it was compatible with mine.”

  Vissan raised her eyebrow. “You said you are a life chemist, Mare. You know there’s nothing special about deoxyribonucleic acid produced by your body, or by a machine. In fact, it would be impossible for you to tell a natural string and a manufactured string apart. There is no chemical difference between them.”

  Mary frowned. She’d chided her sister often enough for paying a premium for “natural” vitamins, which were chemically indistinguishable from those produced in labs. But…“But one of them came from my body, and the other came from a machine.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “No, no, you are right,” said Mary. “I’ve been telling my students for years that DNA is nothing but coded information.” She smiled at Ponter and Mega. “As long as it’s our coded information, it will still be our baby.”

  Ponter looked up and nodded. “Our personal genetic material will need to be sequenced, of course.”

  “Easily done,” said Vissan. “In fact, the codon writer can do that, too.”

  “Wonderful!” said Mary. “Is the prototype here?”

  “No. No, it’s hidden. Buried. But I wrapped it in plastic and metal to protect it. It’s not far away, though; I can easily retrieve it.”

  “It would mean a great deal to us,” said Mary. Then a thought struck her. “Would you like to come back with me? To my world? I can guarantee you that we won’t ban your device there, or stop you from continuing research related to it.”

  “What an astonishing idea!” said Vissan. “What is your world like?”