Darwin's Paradox

by Nina Munteanu

  ***

  Julie listened to the carillon of the birds and let her gaze stray to where the heath melted into sky. Five hundred kilometres beyond that shimmering horizon lay what used to be home. She cupped her hand to shield her eyes from the blazing sun and squinted, picturing the glinting towers of Icaria-5 in the distance. She inhaled the sweet, boggy scent of cottonwoods that rode the gusts and she frowned at her inexplicable yearning to return there. She was happy here, living a simple natural life with her cherished family. What was drawing her back to the city that had exiled her in the first place? Did it have to do with Angel and their newly found communication? No, she’d always felt it. So, maybe it was guilt...

  All of the machine voices that used to reside in her head since she was five had disappeared long ago when she and Daniel had traveled out of their range. But the chirping sounds had never left her. Constant companions, they’d melded with her intuitive awareness, providing her with enhanced cognitive and motor skills and an uncanny danger sense. She remembered back in Icaria when the chirping had saved her life once from the slashing knife of a crazed victim of Darwin disease. Darwin disease...they should have called it Julie Disease. She’d been its first carrier. When she was five, her father had relinquished her to a hubristic team of scientists who’d code-named her Prometheus. Her father’s cousin, Janet, then gave Julie a dose of the artificial virus, Proteus, thinking it would change the world for the better. Instead it unleashed a plague and changed Julie’s life forever.

  Initially encouraged by preliminary results on Julie, Janet had over-zealously introduced the virus to the public through a common drug and watched in horror as it morphed and devoured the lives of millions of people. Because Julie had the subtly unique genetic makeup of a veemeld, the disease didn’t kill her like it did everyone else. To her it did what it was designed to do: it provided a conduit to hear all the intelligent machines in the city, including SAM, her cherished A.I. friend and mentor. Unable to reconcile with her atrocity, Janet had committed suicide, leaving young Julie to live out the legacy of what she’d erroneously inspired.

  Her father had never told her what was going to be done to her. One night she went to bed and the next morning she woke in a hospital with strange sounds screaming through her head. She’d fallen suddenly ill in the night, her father had explained and said no more. He took the secret with him when the Pols dragged him away years later. The secret ruined Julie’s family: her mother turned to alcohol and sober or drunk could barely look at her any more. She often beat Julie for no reason. Julie remembered how, after the Pols took away her father, her mother, smelling of whiskey, used to awaken her at night by crawling into Julie’s bed, clutch her to her breast and sob until she fell into a restless sleep. It was only when Julie turned twenty that she and SAM made the discovery that collapsed her world: she was Prometheus, responsible for the plague.

  Weeks before Julie found out that she was Prometheus, Zane, an epidemiologist with the Special Pathogens Branch at CDC, had confided to her at a party that the first stage of the virus, called Pro-1, was sexually transmitted, invading the brain and central nervous system. But his lab also proved that a non-infectious transposon stage, a second stage of the virus called Pro-2, replaced Pro-1 after five months, during the last stage of an infected victim’s dementia.

  It bound itself to a specific site on the female gamete, where it lay dormant—a provirus like the ancient hantavirus in mice—waiting to vertically migrate from host to offspring; except in the case of a Darwin host they were usually dead or certainly incapable of giving birth by then. It was, in fact, this discovery that had alerted Julie to the possibility that Darwin was manufactured rather than natural, and had mutated from its original purpose: it wasn’t logical that a natural virus would invest energy in a transmission stage that was destined to fail, as if its maker was irrational...like a human.

  The fact that she was only five when she supposedly carried the first stage of the disease and that SAM believed that she had never carried an aggressive form of the virus strongly suggested that she had indeed not infected anyone. This theory was confirmed when Daniel didn’t contract Darwin from her in all the years they’d been together. Although there was still the question of Frank...

  Julie had known that her gametes probably carried the virus. When she found out that she was pregnant with Angel in the heath, she couldn’t help worrying how the virus might affect her baby. Would it kill her precious child like it had millions of Icarians or would it just continue to live inside the daughter like it did inside the mother? To her relief, Angel was born healthy and seemingly unaltered. Once Angel started talking, Julie quickly discovered that her daughter could hear the same chirping sounds she did. Julie had no doubt what it was—it was Darwin speaking to her. Now mother and daughter could speak to one another through the virus. As wonderful as it was, Julie wasn’t so sure she liked its vehicle.

  Daniel came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. She flinched in surprise then relaxed when she realized who it was and folded her hands over his, leaning comfortably against him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said too quickly then pulled away to give him a reassuring smile. “Just thinking about stuff.” He didn’t ask what and moved beside her to watch the sunset, obviously waiting for her to elaborate in her own good time. He’s learned to be patient, she thought with an inward smile and followed his gaze to the fired ripples of altocumulus clouds. She tracked a line of jet stream across the darkening sky. It was one of the few signs that Icaria—civilization—remained. If not for signs like that jet stream and Aard’s occasional pilgrimages back there for supplies, Julie often had the unsettling impression that they were the only people left on Earth.

  She stole a glance at Daniel’s profile, bronzed by the setting sun. He’d matured since their hasty exodus from Icaria-5 twelve years ago. A network of smile lines radiated from his coal-black eyes, reverted from their previous nuyu-treated blue. His hair, once blue, had also returned to its natural dark-brown colour and he’d let it grow out in a thick tangle over his shoulders. It reminded her of when she’d first met him as Neo, the awkward cocky techno-slummer, who’s breath smelled of nano-soup and who kept trying too hard to impress her.

  Years living out here had settled Daniel. He’d let his anger go, grown content. He’d moved on from those belligerent teenage years when she’d first met him in the slums of the inner city. Even from those cynical years as a young man when she’d met him again. He’d taken to building and gardening with ease and she could sense in him a quiet calm. A practical man, he reveled in the simple tasks allotted to him in his role as hunter, gatherer and protector of his family. He’d embraced the heath since that first day she’d introduced him to it and he’d since fine-tuned that relationship into one of deep spiritual appreciation, letting the heath nurture and calm his soul. The heath had been good for him, and perhaps, she thought, letting a faint smile cross her lips, she might have had a little to do with it...

  And what about her? Had the heath been equally good to her? At first she’d missed her A.I.’s constant company, his banter and his crazy ‘blonde’ jokes. Eventually, though, she got used to the relative silence in her head. She’d had moments of doubt, curiosity and a yearning to return to Icaria. She’d hoped that over the years those feelings might diminish, but they didn’t. In fact, they’d escalated.

  Daniel flashed the same dimpled smile that had captured her heart the first time she’d met him obviously hoping to rouse her from her brooding. She gave him a crooked smile, then turned back to the crimson sun about to sink below the horizon, and exhaled slowly. “I was just thinking about Angel. What are we going to do about her?”

  “She’s learned her lesson. The injury will heal. Aard’ll have her back doing Tai Chi with you and doing flying kicks in no time.”

  Her eyes focused on him again. “I don’t mean that,�
�� she heard the edge of nervous tension creep into her voice. “She’s eleven, Daniel. And her only friend is a mangy hermit four times her age whose best gift to her are his lessons in combat and survival training. Don’t you see a problem with that?”

  “No, actually, I don’t. This isn’t the city, Julie. The heath operates by different rules. We’re fortunate to have Aard around. He’s taught us a lot about how to survive here; how to hunt and trap, make efficient shelters and use the bog as fuel. He’s taught her—and you—so much about training your body. It’s come in handy lots of times already. Plus he’s a gentle and good man, a good friend for Angel.”

  Julie pictured Aard in her mind. Even under that bushy tangle of blond hair, his attractive features were obvious. He looked like a Greek god in disguise, and he smiled like he knew it. He’d certainly captivated Angel. “But she’s in his company a lot now,” Julie objected. “He lets her take risks and do things that aren’t safe.”

  Daniel smiled suddenly—indulgently, she thought. “You can’t protect our little hatchling forever, you know. Some day all too soon she’s going to need to fly.”

  Julie cringed at his words. What Angel would do when she grew up was a sensitive topic. She was alone here in the heath. Surely she deserved a chance at friendship, love, and creating her own family.

  “Aard’s giving her some of the tools.”

  “What kind of tools? Besides, she’s so young, Daniel.”

  He laughed with sudden amusement. “First she’s already eleven, now she’s so young. Make up your mind, Julie.”

  “That’s just it. She’s both, don’t you see?” Julie focused hard on him. “She’s old enough to think she can make her own decisions but too young to make the right ones. This is a dangerous time for her. Who is Aard, Daniel? We still don’t know anything about him, like why he knows all this sleuthing stuff. And why he keeps sneaking back into Icaria even though it’s 500 kilometers away. And how come we stumbled on him in this wilderness in the first place.” From the day they’d met, she’d sensed something disturbingly familiar about that scruffy blond that she could never shake off. And what was he doing there at the gorge this morning?

  “Good Earth, Julie! You’re too suspicious. We’ve been through this so many times already.” Daniel broke from her grasp and waved a hand in annoyance. “Aard traveled along the river just like we did. And he goes back for supplies. Supplies that he shares with us.” He pointed down. “Those Enviro-Center hiking shoes on your feet, for instance. Everything you’re wearing, for that matter, is thanks to him. He taught you how to tan hides and make clothes to replace our worn-out Icarian stuff.”

  Daniel was right. She had so much to thank Aard for, including his incredible patience with her as she bumbled through her first efforts at preparing the hides of young does. Killing the deer had been the easiest part, she recalled, admitting that her aim and speed surpassed even Aard’s expert marksmanship. He’d painstakingly taught her how to glove-skin rabbits, how to flesh, soak, grain and dress, and then smoke various larger animal hides like deer and moose. She’d even learned to apply the grizzly task of cracking open the skull and removing the animal’s brain for later use when “dressing” the hide. He’d shown her how to remove and prepare sinew fibers for cordage and thread and so much more.

  “Besides,” Daniel went on, “it doesn’t matter who or what Aard was in Icaria. Out here he’s proven to be our friend.”

  She winced and fought from glaring at him. His words carried with them a hint of their own history in Icaria, one of mutual deception. She’d also been Prometheus, the reason for Darwin disease. When they’d first left Icaria, there had been some concern as to whether she would pass the lethal form of Darwin to Daniel, but obviously, that didn’t happen. As far as Daniel was concerned all that was history, along with her communicating in her head with Icaria’s machine world and SAM, her A.I. But he was wrong, she thought. She was still a veemeld, even if he’d decided it was irrelevant out here and didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. And she still carried Darwin. So did her daughter. There was no doubt in her mind that Angel was also a veemeld and, like Julie, one with extremely unique qualities.

  “I think you’re selling Aard short,” Daniel continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “He has lots of admirable qualities that he shares with Angel.”

  “Like feeding her all those tall tales about Icaria?” she said with a sharp laugh. Angel had been getting annoyingly curious, almost obsessed, about Icaria of late.

  “You’re just jealous he isn’t filling you in on the news,” he responded, smirking back at her.

  She blushed at his inference. He knew her feelings about Icaria, even though she tried to hide them. She knew she wasn’t easy to live with and her incomprehensible yearning to return to Icaria must have played havoc with his ego at times.

  “And you’re one to talk,” he went on. “I can remember a certain young girl feeding an impressionable inner-city boy with the tantalizing wonders of the outer-city...”

  She blushed harder and bowed her head, ashamed at having fed Daniel those stories when they’d techno-slummed in the inner city as adolescents—before she’d left him behind for the outer-city. Despite his earlier insistence that he’d understood her actions, she wondered if he still harbored a trace of bitterness.

  As if reading her mind, Daniel chuckled and embraced her by the waist, touching his head to hers. “Darling, I loved you for sharing your dreams,” he said quietly. “You were my angel.” He kissed her forehead. “You still are.” When she looked up, his mouth closed over hers.

  3

  Gathering her lower lip in her teeth, Julie peered over the ledge of the gorge. She could just make out the tree that had saved Angel’s life, its gnarled branches stretching out from a crevasse about ten meters down. She firmed her lips with determination and tied the rope to a pitch pine tree behind her. After pulling on her gloves and looping the rope through her belt buckle as a makeshift caribiner, Julie flung the remaining line over the edge. She’d have preferred to use a caribiner to rappel down the cliff but Aard’s zeal to carry out her command to conceal climbing equipment from Angel had backfired on Julie. She couldn’t find her own equipment either. So, the belt buckle had to do and she’d have to rely fully on the strength and balance of her limbs to climb down. She was just using the buckle to train the rope close to her body. It wouldn’t help break a fall but she didn’t intend to fall...

  She eased herself down, bracing herself against the craggy cliff face and finding cautious foot holds. She soon reached Angel’s tree and made the mistake of looking down. After taking in a sharp breath she continued her descent. Let’s settle this mystery once and for all, she thought. The sun beat down on her back. Sweat dripped down from her hair into her eyes. She blinked it away and felt the strain on her legs and arms. Her arms started to tremble.

  “Terrific,” she muttered, stopping for a break. “Not in as great shape as I thought I was.” The breeze wicked the sweat off her neck and invigorated her. She pushed on, taking care to go slowly, testing each foot and handhold. Part of her muscle tension was from exertion, certainly, but most of it she recognized came from apprehension and excitement. What awaited her below? Those strange sounds and lights...No, not northern lights nor dry thunder and lightning. Certainly not—

  She yelped in surprise as her left foot suddenly gave way with a clattering of loose rock. Pay attention! She clung to the wall and tried to regain the foothold when her right foot slipped. NO!

  She fell several meters before she was able to grasp the rope with enough force to stop. She bounced hard, hands burning and arms splintering with pain as they supported her swinging body. She looked down at the gorge below her and her stomach cramped with fear. There was absolutely nothing but air between her and the yawning gorge a hundred meters below.

  Her arms and shoulders flamed as she desperately held on. Great,
Julie. This was pretty stupid. No one knew she was here. A quick check, she’d thought. She’d return with some early-season blueberries and no one would be any wiser. Except she wasn’t going to return.

  Then she saw it, just below her—an opening in the cliff. A cave! If she could just loosen her grip a little to allow herself to descend a little more, then swing into the cave...

  She wrapped her legs around the rope to support some of her weight and lurched her body forward then back to initiate a swing. When she was close enough to the rock face, she kicked herself off into a wide swing with her feet then eased her grip. She slipped—a little too fast! She saw the cave mouth rush up and swung forward with her legs then let go. She tumbled onto the cave ledge and felt the sharp pain of the impact.

  When she looked up, she inhaled sharply and stared. She was in a hanger with a fairly large air vehicle. Julie scrambled to her feet and pulled off her gloves to wipe her clammy hands on the back of her leather shorts, ignoring the rope burns. She wandered closer to the ship. It reminded her of the small one-man skyships the Enviro-Center used for reconnaissance jobs when she lived in Icaria. So much for heat lightning. This was what Angel had heard and seen. Julie warily circled the ship, confirming that it was empty. She proceeded to the back of the hanger past a well-equipped workbench and chair to an open door, which led into a lit room.

  She entered cautiously, giving the room a sweeping gaze to find no one inside. The room housed a set of lockers, a table and chairs, a fridge and a desk with a fully functional vee-com. As if to verify her suspicions, she recognized Aard’s faded jacket draped over the back of the desk chair. But where was Aard? He sure had a lot of explaining to do, she thought with mixed emotions. This was the result of much more than a few “foraging” trips back to Icaria. What was he doing with a skyship?