2036 The Proof: A Thrilling Science Fiction Novel

by Speiser, Zvi

  Chapter 6

  Aaron

  Chicago, Thursday, July 17, 2036

  This time, it had been very close, Aaron thought. His luck hadn’t held out, the way it had in all his previous break-ins to date, including the previous one into this very lab, which hadn’t been discovered at all. This time, he had come very close to getting caught by a guard. He had had no intention of killing the guard, but the brawny man had completely prevented any possibility of escape, and the result would have been apprehension by the police, the end of his career, and most importantly, a lead guiding the police to the entire organization, which was not an option, at any cost. No, he’d had no other choice. This was the first time he’d had to kill in order to carry out his mission. Although he was willing to sacrifice his life if it became necessary, killing another person, the thought that he had taken the life of an innocent man, shocked him.

  He would raise a proposal to pay compensation to the victim’s family—completely anonymously, of course. Obscuring the origins of such payments or financial support by attributing them to various charities was always a possibility. First, of course, he must receive the group’s authorization. He didn’t think there would be any problem with the payment. It had often been made clear to him that funding was unlimited. The Guardians had defined goals, and they would do anything required to carry them out, while minimizing collateral damage to people in general and to innocent bystanders, in particular. Secrecy was always a top priority; it was made clear to everyone that any price must be paid to ensure their activities were not uncovered. Yes, he would also have to relocate; he couldn’t risk a police investigation finding its way back to him. Who knew how many cameras had recorded his presence, although he had taken care to obstruct the ones of which he was aware, or what revealing clues he had left behind, despite having done his best to change his appearance and the way he moved.

  In spite of their generous funding, the organization’s activities were low-key in their execution, and involved minimal expenses. They should think of alternatives to the multiple break-ins, as they entailed significant danger. However, the information he discovered when he went over the material he had copied from Dr. Lester’s computer had been enough to reveal that the study focused on locating conserved sequences that were identical among the various human races, and that among other discoveries, they had already noted the Message. Since the researchers weren’t aware of its meaning, though, they did not attribute any special distinction to it. In any case, their work had brought them too close to it, and therefore, they had to be monitored on an ongoing basis. As things stood, chances were that the research team would merely add the Message sequence to the list of conserved sequences appearing in humans only, and not in other animals.

  All that notwithstanding, Tom was known as a talented, thorough researcher. His track record indicated that he would not be satisfied with merely discovering an identical, particularly lengthy sequence that was unique to humans and that did not code for any protein. He would do anything within his ability to investigate such a phenomenon in depth. It seemed highly likely that after a thorough analysis of his results, he would come up with various research directions, some of which might lead him to the worst possible outcome, the prohibited discovery that they must prevent at any cost.

  It was a good thing that he’d had time to substitute a tiny camera for one of the screws holding up the image of the DNA double helix that covered a large part of the lab’s northern wall. He’d also had time to make sure the camera could observe most of the area in the lab. Aaron was concerned that he hadn’t managed to erase the traces of his search from the computer. The murder of the security guard had upset him, and he had left the premises immediately once he’d finished installing the camera and copying the research files.

  Up to this point, he had managed to completely eliminate all traces of his presence after every break-in. He wondered what conclusions the investigators would reach. Aaron assumed they would come to the conclusion that the intruder had been interested in the longevity-enhancement study, which had tremendous commercial potential, and which he had also copied from the computer. Maybe, just to be on the safe side, Aaron thought, they should think of an active way of leading the investigators to this conclusion. The last thing Aaron and his handlers wanted was to lead the investigators in the right direction. They must make sure the investigators focused on the financial angle!

  Well, he still had the morning hours to prepare for the cell meeting. Only now did he have the time to examine the scratch on his right elbow, sustained while he had hurriedly turned on the lab computer. He really had been under immense pressure. The murder of the security guard had undermined his confidence and his equilibrium. Apparently, the scratch still hadn’t scabbed over, so he covered it with a light dressing. The long, tense night made him feel highly alert. He had exactly as much time as he needed to prepare the material. The cell meeting had been scheduled for Thursday morning. Generally, everyone was available for urgent meetings at any time. It was lucky he had had time to go over the material copied from Tom’s computer, interpret it, and understand it.

  At precisely eight thirty, the intercom buzzer rang and Takumi’s round face appeared on the screen. Without exchanging greetings or any other words, Takumi and Chinatsu sat in two end chairs lined up on one side of the desk, which stood in the middle of the living room. The desk and chairs were the only pieces of furniture in the room. Aaron sat in the middle chair, opposite the computer screen.

  The presentation was very short. It included four brief excerpts from the reports copied from Dr. Lester’s computer.

  “The long sequence was not found in any of the primates whose genome was available for immediate comparison. In contrast, it is completely identical in all the human races we have examined. We will continue examining more human races. Lise is also supervising a temporary assistant assigned to us to help with conducting varying radiation of the sequence in order to assess its strength. We have no idea about the role of this sequence…

  “The primary question is whether this sequence has been conserved at random, or whether it’s vital to a degree that any change will be eliminated from the genome. If this is the case, discovering its role is of great importance. Perhaps a yet-unknown factor is protecting it to such an extreme degree…

  “In any case, pinpointing the reason for its conservation might lead to significant medical advances…

  “Ronnie also possesses an identical sequence…”

  “Who’s Ronnie?” Chinatsu interjected.

  “I don’t know. That’s the first time I’ve heard that name. I didn’t find any other reference to Ronnie tonight. I’ll read carefully through the material I copied one more time. Maybe I’ll find something, or maybe the camera I planted will help me find out what’s going on,” Aaron replied.

  The minutes ticked by without anyone saying a word, until Takumi looked up and said, “We don’t know what they’re calling ‘the long sequence.’ Based on what they’re saying, there’s a chance they’re working on The Forbidden Message, the sequence whose discovery our activity is intended to prevent, primarily due to the result that it could yield. However, at the moment, it doesn’t seem as if there’s a concrete risk that they might follow a route that would lead to the discovery of The Forbidden Message. They’re interested in the medical potential of the sequence, which is a good thing. I agree they should be consistently monitored, but despite their discovery, the next transition requires an unusual cognitive leap that is not in accordance with their current line of thought. Still, they’re only two levels away from a discovery. Something should be done.”

  “I propose we escalate to Level 2,” Aaron said.

  Once again, several silent minutes went by, until Takumi resumed speaking. “We’ve escalated to Level 2. Chinatsu is responsible for focusing the police investigation and interest within the lab on the longevity-enhancement research. T
hink of a way and make it happen. We’ll know about it.”

  A nearly imperceptible nod from Chinatsu confirmed he had accepted the task and would carry it out.

  “Level 2,” Takumi repeated, turning to Aaron, who nodded back. All three rose from their seats.

  Only then did Aaron turn to Takumi and say, “During the break-in yesterday, I had to shoot a security guard, who died instantly.”

  Both men’s eyes turned to him immediately, their expression conveying immense grief.

  Takumi said, “I am sorry. It’s obvious to all of us that this is not what we wanted, but there’s no going back. We’ll make sure the security guard’s family is generously compensated from our resources.”

  Aaron bowed in gratitude to Takumi, who turned, along with Chinatsu, toward the front door, while Aaron made a note to himself to delete the evidence from his computer after immersing himself in the material once more. They never retained any documentation of their activities.

  ***

  Level 2, Aaron thought, was just one level before “Let me die with the Philistines”-type activity commenced, a stage in which the most extreme measures were put into action in an attempt to stop unwanted revelations. At Level 2, the gathering of information continued, but was reinforced with misdirection activity. In cases where the research could not be distorted or stopped, there was also an attempt to actively subvert it by investing in alternate studies, tempting job offers, and threats, and by staging “accidents.”

  Aaron remembered his first meeting with Takumi and Chinatsu vividly. As a child, he had never visited his father’s workplace. Even when he’d begged his dad to take him to work like the fathers of his classmates did, his father always found various excuses to refuse. Aaron was about eighteen when he received the news that, against all odds, he had been accepted to study law at the prestigious Loyola University. In his fantasies, he could already envision himself as a senior partner at a large law firm in Chicago, living in a big, fancy house, unlike the modest apartment in which his parents lived with his younger sister Meirav. However, his father had had other plans for him.

  “All of us in the family, meaning the men, have studied the history of the Middle East and Far East, as well as the sciences. I expect you to follow in our footsteps and not to disrupt our long family tradition.”

  “And where has all that brought you?” Aaron had dared to ask, untypically bold in the presence of his father. “To a little apartment in a godforsaken suburb. I have friends who live in big, fancy houses, who frequently go on long vacations abroad. I’m not any less talented than they are. I could attain their kind of lifestyle if I studied law or some other major occupation. With history, the most I could achieve is becoming a schoolteacher, and continuing to live the way we do now.”

  He had uttered the words in one long breath, sensing that he had hurt his father by speaking them. Much to his surprise, a subtle smile surfaced upon his father’s face.

  “That’s okay, son,” his father said. “At the time, I reacted just like you did. I also wanted to study law and focus on my career. As you well know, I’m not a legal expert, and we live modestly in regard to finances. I’ll make sure you get a chance to meet with some of the people I work with. They’ll convince you to study topics that seem unimportant to you today.” With these words, he left the room.

  During the next two days, the topic of his studies was not raised in conversations around the house, and life continued as usual. On the third evening, he received a call from someone whose voice was unfamiliar.

  “Hi, Aaron.” He heard a deep voice that sounded as if it belonged to an older man. “I work with your father. We should talk— the sooner the better. Could you meet me this evening at my room at the Sheraton Grand Chicago on the river?”

  The authoritative voice, along with Aaron’s need to prove to his father that he could not be swayed, resulted in an immediate reply.

  “Sure. When?”

  “I’m waiting for you in room 1124. Get going.”

  That was the first time he had met Takumi and Chinatsu.

  Chapter 7

  Melissa

  Chicago, Thursday, July 17, 2036

  Exhausted after a sleepless night, exposure to a murder, and a long interrogation, Tom debated whether to go back to the university or drive home for a short nap. It was almost nine in the morning, a time when the streets, trains, and roads filled with cars and people hurrying to their workplaces.

  No, it wasn’t right for him to ignore the murder and go to sleep. There was no other choice; he had to return to the university, to update management as well as the students on recent events. It was lucky that Rick had made sure to drive him to the police station; he shouldn’t be driving in his current state of fatigue, even in autonomous mode.

  The train car was full of passengers. It was not easy to work his way inside and get settled next to a post, against which he leaned his back, his hands burrowing deep in the pockets of his coat. His sorrowful thoughts wandered from the murdered Oleg to the man’s grieving wife and children, for whom Oleg had been the sole provider, and who would now be dealing with new difficulties.

  He was also bothered by the fact that he hadn’t told Rick a thing about Ronnie. Had he done the right thing? How would the detective react if he discovered that Tom had withheld information that might prove important? After all, the Ronnie study placed the long sequence in a completely different context. Perhaps he should go back to the precinct, apologize, and tell the truth, even if this would deprive the university of the major surprise they were planning to spring on the scientific community. No, he wouldn’t go back to the detective. He would give it some thought.

  He wondered about the motivation of the intruder, and of those who had sent him. Yes, without a doubt, the break-in did not seem to have been initiated by a lone-wolf burglar. What exactly was of interest to those who had initiated it? Who was so wary of exposure that he was willing to murder someone in order to prevent it from happening?

  The conclusion was clear: either the murderous intruder was a public figure, or those who had sent him were. The more he delved into thinking about the event and analyzing it, the more mysterious it appeared. He had a hard time discerning the assistant’s ring in the general bustle of the train; when it registered, it withdrew him from his state of contemplation.

  “Guess which files were copied from your computer?” he heard Rick’s voice in his ear.

  That really is a tough question, Tom thought sarcastically. Who the hell was interested in research that, at first glance, seemed purely academic and tedious, about resilience to change in human DNA sequences? Even the university barely exhibited any interest in that study. He had fought so hard to get authorization and funding for his research. Only fanatics delved into the esoteric nooks and crannies of human DNA analysis.

  Most researchers focused on genes that triggered disease, extended life, enhanced IQ, strengthened the immune system, and so forth. These were the breakthrough studies that were generously funded and to which brilliant researchers and students flocked. Tom had no doubt that the longevity-extension research, part of which had been allocated to his lab, was the reason for the break-in.

  “Longevity,” he replied loudly, trying to overcome the background noise of the train. He felt a strong urge to add that succeeding in this research would truly overturn the world, while the mutation-resistance study was purely theoretical and probably held no interest for people outside academia. In any case, academic researchers didn’t break into labs, and they certainly weren’t killers. However, he held back. This was not the place for a conversation of that kind.

  The ongoing silence in the assistant’s receiver made Tom think the call had been disconnected, especially since the train was going through a tunnel. Then he heard a slight throat clearing before Rick replied, “Very interesting.” Another long pause stretched out before he continued.
“You’re right. The entire research file on longevity extension was copied from the computer.”

  Rick’s answer so thoroughly fulfilled Tom’s expectations that he didn’t even bother to ask him whether the mutation-resistance study had been copied as well.

  ***

  The corridor in the lab building was abuzz with voices coming from every lab. Everyone was talking about the break-in and the murder. Mike and Lise, the two graduate students who assisted him, as well as the two lab techs, Lynn and Amy, were already at the lab when he arrived.

  “Professor Longstrom and Dr. Colin asked that you go see them when you arrive,” Lise said as he dropped into the one threadbare armchair in the lab. “They’ve been looking for you for about an hour now.”

  Only when he exited the building did he notice that Mike and Lise were following him.

  “Dr. Colin asked the two of us to come along as well,” Lise responded to his querying expression.

  As they walked down the campus pathways, he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t called his wife, who still didn’t know a thing, as news of the murder had not been released yet. At most, she was worried about why he hadn’t returned home last night. She probably thought he had been held up, and had decided to stay on at the university for the workday.

  Kate replied on the first ring. “What’s going on?” she asked, sounding more curious than concerned. Kate wasn’t the kind of woman who tended to worry and stress out easily; she was more the type who allowed things to work themselves out, the way they usually did. Tom updated her with a few brief statements. It was another trait of hers that he appreciated; a short summary was generally sufficient for her. She would fill in the rest with her vivid imagination and sharp intellect.

  “Don’t stay until the end of the day,” she advised. “I bet you’re completely exhausted.”

  The severe gaze of Dr. Ron Colin, the university director who was standing at the entrance to the administration building, drove Tom to quickly end the conversation with his wife. Wordlessly, the director accompanied them to a small conference room adjacent to his office. On the way, he barked to his secretary to notify the dean of the arrival of Tom and his team.