by M. C. Miller
“So what is it? Facial recognition?”
“No.” Colin grabbed the device. He punched more buttons and handed it back.
Colin’s name remained at the top of the screen but below it now was a graph. Faye recognized the graphing technique but couldn’t imagine how it related. Peaks along twin horizontal measures were labeled with numbers and an X and Y.
“STR Analysis…”
Colin sat back down. “Yes. Short Tandem Repeat. Those are the thirteen core STR loci that make up my genetic profile.”
“You accessed the FBI’s CODIS database?”
“No. We generated our genetic fingerprints using this device.”
“That’s impossible…” It came out, even as Faye saw the facts were otherwise.
“Scan any skin surface and the generated record is submitted to The Project database. If the record exists, a hit is returned to the screen. If it doesn’t exist, the record is added and populated with photos and data as they come available.”
Faye felt compelled to entertain her disbelief. “To do such a thing, nuclear DNA has to be extracted…precise polymorphic regions have to be amplified…and that only happens with two kinds of electrophoresis.”
“Gel or capillary. Sure. Outside of The Project, I’d say you’re correct.” Colin held up the device. “This is the first thing you must know about.”
Faye was in awe. “But it never touched us. It did it so fast…”
“This is RIDIS – Remote Infrared DNA Identification Scanner. It comes in many sizes, configurations, and capabilities. This is the most compact one so far.”
“Infrared…”
“Far infrared and terahertz radiation is used. Among other things.”
“Anybody can be ID’d just by pointing this at them?”
“That’s the idea. The range is getting better all the time. Using a new type of laser, they scan from aircraft. Soon, they plan on doing this from orbit.”
“Incredible.”
“About twenty years ago, DARPA went looking for a way to improve on the CODIS database. Grants were awarded for proof of concept and various subsystems. Several grants went to universities. One was awarded to GeLixCo, the biotech company. It took a couple of years, but eventually GeLixCo had some success. That’s when I was recruited as a liaison between them and The Project.”
A flash of recognition filled Faye’s face. She stiffened.
“That’s when you left…USAMRIID.” Faye avoided the obvious reference to Janis. Her pause before saying USAMRIID had said enough.
Colin noticed her reaction and took it as a sign. The past was a large part of what they were going to have to work with. He’d have to deal with it sooner or later. His mood shifted. Pensive and somber, he summed up his confession.
“The past is what it is. In the last two weeks I’ve had to push a lot of that aside. That doesn’t mean I’m free of it either. I’m the first one to second-guess the choices I’ve made. It doesn’t get easier, looking back, wondering how it might have been. I did what I did. I was a different person then. I see that now. I was more full of myself – and less complete. I’m sorry for what that meant for those around me. I don’t know what else to say about that.”
Faye fought back tears. “Some people would say you have a lot of nerve.”
“You’re right; some would.” Colin repressed the urge to say more. “Others would realize there must be a serious crisis to force me to do this at all. You don’t know the half of it.”
Colin’s frankness took Faye by surprise. She said nothing; she couldn’t.
To deflect both of their emotions, Colin got back to business.
“Fifteen years ago, a GeLixCo team in Puerto Rico had a breakthrough. When DARPA combined that breakthrough with other work universities had done, government scientists realized that remote scans could return much more than Short Tandem Repeats. A person’s entire DNA signature could be captured.”
“Just as quickly?”
“Not at first but now, yes. Certain people above DARPA decided to keep it under wraps. They wanted a pilot project to test the limits of what was possible without civil rights constraints. Once the scope of the technology was proven, they intended to lift an appropriate level of secrecy and develop commercial applications. They expected a path of normalization for RIDIS just like GPS had gone through.”
“That didn’t happen.”
“No. The RIDIS database grew quickly in secret. The advantages of keeping it that way – just one more year, then another year – it all became too seductive. After a while, it was hard to imagine how they’d ever be able to admit the truth without it looking bad. Too much had happened beyond the law. The issue was kicked down the road. Future administrators would have to deal with it.”
“What size of database are we talking about?”
“Now? North America, Europe, huge numbers beyond. One-third of humanity.”
“In one database, verified by a quick scan?”
Colin nodded. “We’ve been collecting data for over ten years. We’ve coupled RIDIS scanners to ATMs, airport security scanners, even the eye test machine where you get your driver’s license. Every baby is added to the database at birth. Push a button in some elevators and you’ve been scanned. Go through a toll booth or a revolving door, a record of ID is tabulated. Swipe a credit card and the machine scans you. If a timestamp is included with any one of these, movements can be tracked. We don’t have time to go into all the ways RIDIS scanners are being used.”
“So what do you do for The Project?”
“They put me in charge of the database.”
“Sounds all-encompassing. What exactly does that mean?”
“I’m responsible for the data’s availability, integrity, and survivability.”
“But you’re not talking about a simple identification database – you’re sitting on the collective genetic information of humanity.”
“Exactly what I told my bosses several years ago. I couldn’t believe the limited way they were using the data. Taking real time IDs of people without their knowledge was one thing. But they hadn’t bothered to do any genetic trending or comparative analysis of the data itself.”
“What a waste.” Faye gazed at the RIDIS device in hand. Disenchantment stained the marvel of it.
“I asked for permission to run a pilot project. All I needed to get started was a supercomputer and a couple geneticists to guide individual studies.”
“They turned you down.”
“No. They gave me everything I wanted – and more.”
“There’s a problem with that?”
“Call it a crisis.”
Colin sat back. He let the severity of the moment build.
“Six months ago we discovered something in the data – something we didn’t want to believe. At first we were certain it had to be caused by data corruption. The more we looked at it, the more we hoped we could prove ourselves wrong. We’ve busted our asses ever since.” He activated an electronic tablet and turned it around. His tone was grave. “We’re not wrong.”
Faye took tablet in hand. Onscreen, classified internal memos were labeled USAP. She had only heard rumors of Unacknowledged Special Access Programs. Legend had it black material like this didn’t exist. The Congress, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, not even the President had access to such material or knew of its existence.
All the memos confirmed what Colin said.
“As best as anyone can tell, the DNA trend is confirmed…” Colin hesitated, bracing himself and preparing Faye for the impact. “…children under the age of fourteen will be sterile when they reach puberty.”
Faye’s expression was blank with disbelief, then shock.
Colin drove home the point. “All children…everywhere.”
The weight of what Faye had heard pressed in on her. Could such a thing be true? It couldn’t be, could it? Colin continued to speak but she barely heard him now.
“If true, as we believe it is, the world is
producing its last human generation.”
“That can’t be!” Unable to accept such an apocalyptic concept on face value, Faye launched into questions. “Why are the parents OK? They reproduce.”
“We aren’t sure. But we think we’ve found a couple markers that give a clue.”
“What markers?”
“We discovered them only two weeks ago – Ghyvir-C virus markers. That’s where you come in.”
Faye’s thoughts rushed back fifteen years to the last project both Janis Insworth and she worked on at USAMRIID. They were testing a new giant virus found in the wild – the Ghyvir-C Virus. Faye had even suggested the Ghyvir name. Not knowing what to call it at first, she had lab staff label related items GHYVIR. It was simply shorthand for Giant Hybrid Virus. It was hybrid because the giant virus had another, smaller virus inside of it, a parasite virus generically known as a sputnik virus.
As Faye collected memories, Colin continued.
“As you know, the virus swept the world fourteen years ago. Today, it’s found on every continent. Oddly enough, in that time it’s resisted mutation. As best as we can determine, parents who are infected with Ghyvir-C produce sterile children.”
“No, that’s not right!” Faye struggled to remember specifics from her USAMRIID lab work years ago. “Ghyvir-C turned out to act like a rhinovirus – it produced nothing but a common cold. That’s why it’s called Ghyvir-C. The ‘C’ is for common cold.”
“That’s right. A common cold – in the parents. No tests were ever done to determine what exposure might do to their future children.”
“Rhino viruses don’t act that way. Something’s wrong. It doesn’t make sense.”
“You sound like my boss. Certain people want to keep these wild ideas under wraps until absolutely proven. They fear mass hysteria.”
“They’re not convinced by the data?”
“Exceptional claims require extraordinary proof.”
“What would it take?”
“I’m guessing your knowledge of Ghyvir-C and my access to RIDIS.”
“How can you be sure the effect is sterility?”
“We’ve done tests. All the children have the same something happen to them between the fourth and sixth weeks of fetal growth. That’s critical time in the development of their reproductive cells – the germ cells.”
Faye held her head in hand and closed her eyes. “I was told we were trying to avert a crisis. That’s a lie – the real secret is – the crisis has happened.”
“No, what you were told is absolutely true – we are desperately trying to avert a crisis. But the crisis isn’t sterility. It’s extinction.”
Faye absorbed the impact of Colin’s admission.
“Project Administers are between a rock and a hard place. By accident, their secret, illegal database may have stumbled upon a monumental crisis. But to openly research if the crisis is real, they would have to admit to the world what they’ve been up to. That’s a problem; one they’re still wrestling with. What if they come clean and it turns out to be a false alarm? You see why they want absolute proof.”
“If this is true, every scientist in the world needs to be enlisted to find an answer. This is too big, too serious for bureaucratic games. If the clock is ticking on the last generation, there’s no time to lose. To hell with petty secrets!”
“There’s more to it than just getting world scientists involved. We have to counterbalance added research with the damage to society that would be done if news of this got out. Imagine the social consequences if people thought humanity was facing its last generation. What would happen to family structure, planning for the future, people deciding to get married or have children? It’s hard to imagine the panic and fallout – increases in crime, suicides, disruption of social order – the fabric of society might unravel. With no future, many would live in the moment in reckless ways that could bring down everything. I’m not sure if Project bosses are doing the right thing – but considering the alternatives, it’s not the wrong thing.”
Staring out the window in shock, Faye could only mumble.
“Where are we going?”
“Dugway Proving Ground, Utah. We fly into Michael Army Airfield. The Proving Ground is about eighty miles southwest of Salt Lake City…”
“I know where it is,” snapped Faye.
“You’ve been there?”
“No, but I’ve heard about some of the things that have gone on there.”
“There are always lots of stories…”
“Yeah, hundreds of open air tests secretly conducted in the ’50s and ’60s. The bacteria and viruses were known to cause disease in humans, animals, and plants. Nobody knows to this day how many people in the surrounding area were exposed.”
“Don’t worry about open air tests. The RIDIS database is kept underground.”
Faye pulled her concentration from the clouds to look Colin in the eye.
“Don’t you find that ironic – RIDIS is buried.”
Chapter 6
NovoSenectus Corporate Business Park
Hyderabad, India
The sense of relief was brief. Janis Insworth exited through a revolving door and entered a covered, elevated walkway leading to the parking structure. Behind her sprawled a bustling biotech campus, its glass and metal buildings arranged as spokes around a central administration complex. Much of her professional life had been spent in those buildings. Now the sight of them weighed her down.
She hurried across the skybridge, unable to keep her gaze from following the manicured flower beds and walking paths laid out below. The parklike grounds always had been a refuge from the intensity of work performed inside the sterile labs.
Now they were haunted.
The walking paths had been a favorite place for Riya and Janis to stroll. The gardens were a seasonal joy that brought to mind the cycles of life, the very thing they were studying. At first when they started walking together, work issues were the topic of conversation. In time, as they drew closer, personal stories were shared, along with dreams for the future.
In the place where friendship had blossomed, there was no sign of it now. Janis pulled back her gaze to focus on the parking structure. Her steps quickened.
With car in sight, Janis answered her cell phone after checking caller ID.
“Malcolm?”
“Janis, can you meet me? Right away.”
“I’m on my way to police headquarters to find out about Alyssa.”
“Can it wait?” Malcolm’s voice was agitated, insistent.
“What’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you on the phone. Where are you?”
“I’m leaving NovoSenectus.”
“What are you doing there?” His rushed words bordered on accusation.
“I picked up a few things from my office.”
“Is that all?”
Janis held back an answer and debated the wisdom of offering the truth. She unlocked her car and sat inside. “They offered me the Director of Research post.”
As both knew, that had been Riya’s position on the GenLET Project.
“What did you tell them?”
“I requested a leave of absence. I simply can’t concentrate right now under the stress of everything.”
“Good. That’s perfect.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s something I have to show you. You need to see this.”
“Is it what we talked about?”
“Meet me at the railway station parking lot by Sanjeeviah Park. It’s off Necklace Road.”
“I know where it is.”
“Come straight away. Make sure you’re not followed.”
Malcolm hung up before Faye could say anything more. Sitting in the car alone, she felt the parking structure close in around her. She searched the open spaces for others who might be watching. Her eyes settled on a small half-dome of black plastic mounted on the concrete ceiling nearby. It was elevated above the spot where cars en
tered and exited the structure. Behind the obscuring black plastic was one of the many ever-watchful security cameras.
Janis started the car and drove away at slower than normal speed. As she headed out on the road, she watched the rearview mirror. The ride to the railway station took twenty minutes. It was more than enough time to imagine the best and worst and contemplate the unimaginable.
At Sanjeeviah MMTS Station, Faye pulled up alongside Malcolm’s parked car. He sat and waited while she got out and walked around to his passenger side door and got in. It was the middle of the afternoon and few other cars were around. Another train wasn’t due for a while. It was a public place but it was unlikely they’d be disturbed.
Janis was direct. “What’s so important that can’t wait?”
Malcolm was stone-faced, wound tight enough to be facing combat. He reached into the back seat and grabbed a laptop computer from the floor.
“I know why Riya was killed.” He opened the computer between them and began to type. “This changes everything.”
“You got into that place in Puerto Rico?”
“Remotely. I bought access to a back door.”
“Were you able to download Riya’s backup?”
“Part of it. Maybe a third. Something happened; I got kicked off the network before I could get it all.” He glanced up and scanned the area around the car.
“What about GeLixCo? Can they trace the connection back to you?”
“I did what I could to prevent that. Nothing’s foolproof. I’m not positive they detected me. I hid behind several hops; the routing was complicated. Any one of several nodes could have dropped me.” Malcolm stopped typing. “This is it. The downloaded copy still requires the password. It took me a while to figure out the right format.”
“I thought Riya told you the password.”
“She said it was our anniversary.” For a moment, Malcolm softened to explain. “She called the day we met our anniversary. June 3, 2006 – a Saturday.”
Janis watched Malcolm’s fingers type out SA632006. The moment he finished, a blank file folder onscreen populated with unencrypted files.
Malcolm scanned the list looking for one in particular.
