Conception: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (Perfectible Animals Book 1)

by Thomas Norwood

  “I’d want to know what the price would be.” It seemed Bruno was here to make me a genuine offer and not just to blackmail me. Maybe this was Rowen’s way of investing in our research without being directly involved.

  “Total secrecy. And total commitment to the organization.” Bruno’s eyes behind his glasses were out of proportion with the rest of his face.

  I looked down, but didn’t answer him.

  “So?” Bruno said. “Are you interested?”

  “Of course I’m interested.”

  “Are you interested enough to agree to die if you ever tell anyone about this conversation?”

  My heart started up again, so strongly I could feel my neck and chest constricting.

  “Yes,” I said, softly. “I suppose I am.”

  “I’m not doing this to threaten you, Michael. I have to know that if I give you any more information you will be willing to keep it to yourself. You don’t have to agree to accept my help, but you do have to agree to never mention a word of this to anyone.”

  “Okay,” I said, hardly breathing at all now.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “WHAT’S WRONG?” ANNIE said, as I walked into the house that evening.

  I wondered if Gendigm, the organization that Bruno worked for, was monitoring me already. Maybe they had been for a while now: ever since my meeting with Rowen. Even before then. Suddenly everything looked threatening and suspicious: a loose light fitting, the slightly skewed painting of a garden scene in our living room, a hollow elephant sculpture we’d picked up in Kenya.

  At the same time as being deeply afraid, I felt the stirrings of hope. If Gendigm had unlimited funding and was willing to fund both my immune system research and my cooperation research, anything was possible. We could find a cure for Annie’s disease and cure not only her and Justin’s sister but tens of thousands of others around the world. We could create a germline modification of the immune system that would protect future generations from disease. We could even create a nicer, more empathetic version of humans, although whether anyone would ever want that or not I didn’t know.

  “Michael?” Annie prompted, and I realized I hadn’t answered her.

  “Sorry. Nothing. Just a hard day at work, that’s all.” I stared at the elephant again. I had to tell her what had happened with Bruno, but I had to find a way to do it that couldn’t be detected. Bruno had insisted on complete secrecy, even from Annie.

  The next day, I received a message on my com from Bruno saying that he had set up a meeting with Gendigm that evening and that he would send through the encrypted access information.

  That night, I told Annie I had a meeting with a potential investor and went into my office and locked the door. I connected into v-space and went to the IP address that Bruno had sent me and entered in the access details.

  I found myself in a virtual boardroom very similar to any normal boardroom, except that outside the windows, which completely surrounded us, were stars and galaxies in a totally black night.

  “Michael, welcome.” Bruno’s 3D avatar came over to meet me.

  A number of other people were sitting around the table already. I walked clumsily towards a chair. I didn’t spend much time in v-space, and my motor skills there were not very well developed. After some trouble I managed to sit my avatar down and I greeted everyone. Their voices all had the slightly electronic twang of a scrambling device – presumably so that they could never be recorded and recognized.

  “Take a moment to get acquainted,” Bruno said.

  From each of the avatars I pulled up a short biography. No real names were mentioned, but there seemed to be an impressive list of people in the room: CEOs, scientists, an ex-politician, an army colonel, and a number of NGO executives.

  “This isn’t all of us, by any means,” Bruno said. “But we’re part of the core group.”

  “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me.”

  I was glad I was in v-space or the fact that I was clutching the arms of my seat and sweating profusely from my underarms would have been noticeable.

  “Well, first you’d probably like to know a little more about who we are and what we want?” Bruno said.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Gendigm was created nearly fifteen years ago. We’re a slow growing organization but now have over two hundred members in thirty-five countries around the world. Our main goal is to transform the human race through genetic modification. We believe we’re approaching a bottle-neck, a time when the numbers of our species will be so diminished that an evolutionary leap may be possible. I’ll send a list of our current projects to your com — have a look over them when you get the time.”

  “Meanwhile, we’re here today to discuss your own research. We believe it could well become one of our most important projects.” Bruno turned to the rest of the group. “As all those who have read the brief know, Michael is involved in a project targeting the human immune system, with potential also for making humans more cooperative and empathetic. We’re here to discuss whether or not we should invest in his company, Geneus. It’s estimated they’ll need another hundred million at least before they’ve got a workable solution.”

  “How long will it take, Michael?” Frank, labelled as the treasurer, asked. I admired the detail in the rendering of Frank’s jaw — almost lifelike. He must have had some pretty high-powered tech at home, or wherever he was located. Probably in a bunker in Sweden; one of those new underground hotels with high-res windows and hydroponic farms.

  “At least six months. The benefit of this technology, though, is that we can apply it to other things. Our new delivery method, using histone code recognition, has almost been perfected. We might even be able to augment the entire immune system of those already born — somatically.”

  “Can you tell us a bit more about your cooperation research?” Zoe, another geneticist, said. “I don’t quite understand how those who have been modified would differ from normal humans. We’re already a very cooperative species.”

  “We’re also xenophobic. We’re good at cooperating in groups, but two groups won’t cooperate together unless they’re able to identify with one another. And even then we often require a third group who we label as “the enemy”. Our modified macaques no longer have such a strong “us and them” paradigm. And even within the group itself, everything is shared equally, usually under the control of a matriarch, rather than dominant males taking more. Bonobos, unlike chimps and humans, evolved in an environment where there were plentiful supplies of food and few competitors. Females formed strong coalitions which thwarted male aggression, leading to it being selected against, and higher levels of cooperation selected for. We’re still not exactly sure what the mechanisms are, and how they’d play out in humans — although we suspect bonobos’ greater empathy and polygamous sexual natures play a role. ”

  “Well, from everything I’ve read, I think this modification could mean the difference between our modified humans surviving or not,” Zoe said.

  “How are we financially, Frank?” Bruno said.

  “We could do it, but it’s money that could easily be put into other things. If it doesn’t work, it’s a lot to waste.”

  “What about the bio-dome project?” Robert, an eco-engineer, interjected. “Without somewhere to live, it doesn’t matter how well we modify people.”

  According to Robert’s biography he was the leader of a project creating self-sufficient pods which could be completely shut off from the environment around them. I’d read about similar projects before, but they all had the same problem: getting the eco-systems to balance. Chemical levels in the air were difficult to stabilize and weeds and insects were a constant problem. Nature wasn’t so easy to imitate.

  “Hopefully we’ll never get to the point where we even need bio-domes,” Zoe replied.

  “Current models show unsustainable levels of groundwater nutrient overloading for at least a hundred years,” Robert said. “If things get too bad, we’re
going to need some way of controlling our environments.”

  The group talked on for another couple of hours and it was decided that the only way Gendigm should become a part of Geneus was if they could take a controlling share. Without that they would have very little control over the direction of the project. If we were ever successful in doing what we wanted to do, they wanted to control how the technology was applied. Klaus, they presumed, would want to sell it for as much as possible, whereas the members of Gendigm were more interested in making sure it was distributed as widely as possible. They even mentioned making it open source — something they would definitely need total control for, as there was no way Klaus would ever allow that. An open source genetic modification would be freely available for anyone in the world to apply. If the technology was perfected, a bio-vector containing the modification could even be put into pill form.

  “The problem is going to be convincing Klaus to let go of Geneus,” I said. Klaus held a fifty-one percent share in the company.

  “Maybe we should get Jan Peters in there,” Frank said. “Jan is the best negotiator I’ve ever seen. If anyone can convince Klaus, it’s Jan.”

  “Whose opinion does Klaus respect most, Michael?” Roland, one of the CEOs, asked. “If we can convince that person, we might be able to get them to convince Klaus.”

  “Anthony Simons. Unfortunately, Anthony is against our project. He thinks it’s never going to make money.”

  “Who else is there?”

  “Zhao, the treasurer. If we could convince Zhao then he might put pressure on Klaus. Zhao’s a numbers man.”

  “Well, let’s talk dollars and cents to him then,” Frank said.

  After the meeting was over, I came out of my office and into the living room.

  Annie was sitting watching something on her visual overlay, and she didn’t look up at me. For the last few days she had been acting strangely, and I wanted to ask her what was wrong but knew that when she got into one of her moods it was usually best to wait until it had passed.

  “Well, things are looking promising,” I said.

  Annie looked up at me. “In what way?” she said, although there was a lack of interest in her voice.

  “They’re interested in investing. Although they want to take a controlling share.”

  “That’s great,” Annie said, and went back to her reading.

  I was almost going to say something, but the last thing we needed was an argument, so I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea.

  “Would you like a drink?” I called to Annie.

  “No thanks,” she called back, her tone still flat.

  Over the next several months there were many meetings behind closed doors. Jan Peters, Gendigm’s representative, working for a dummy corporation called HGM industries, met first with Zhao, then with Klaus, then with a few other key figures on the Geneus board. More than a financial decision, or even a power struggle, it was a psychological and emotional attachment to the company that was making Klaus’s decision to let go difficult.

  Letting go of Geneus would essentially mean the end of his life’s work and the beginning of the end of his life itself. Klaus was still strong and fit for nearly eighty, and the idea of letting go of the one thing he’d spent his life working on, that had given him meaning, purpose and drive all these years, was, understandably, a step he was finding it difficult to take. He was also a control freak, as most people in positions of power were, and he felt he had been manipulated into this decision, rather than coming to it by himself, which he wasn’t happy about either.

  Anthony was still completely against the takeover, suspecting, rightfully, that if it happened he would never become CEO of the company and that he might even find himself without a job. The other board members were split, but in the end it would come down to Klaus’s decision anyway.

  One day a meeting was called and I hoped the decision was all but made.

  Jan came into the room and shook hands with everyone.

  “Okay everyone,” Klaus said, “Jan’s here to present the details of HGM’s final offer.”

  Jan took his position at the front of the room. He wiped his lips and stared at us all for a moment, as if considering. “Thanks Klaus, and thank you everybody for your time here today. As you know, HGM industries is interested in purchasing a fifty-one percent controlling share in Geneus. We believe, as do a number of you, that Geneus is indeed on the verge of genius and that with some good investment we can bring to fruition all that you here, especially Klaus, Michael, and Masanori, have been working on for the last three years.

  “You already know the technical details of the project, so I won’t go into those again, but I would like to share with you our vision for the future of Geneus and give you some projected figures. I would also like to inform you of the changes that we would make to the company structure and the positions, salaries, and bonuses that you and the rest of the Geneus employees would be provided with were this takeover to go ahead.”

  Jan spent the next two hours covering all the details of the proposed takeover. Thankfully he didn’t mention anything about getting rid of Anthony and, by the end of the meeting, even he was looking happy about the possibility.

  “So, what do you think?” I said to Klaus as we filed out of the meeting room.

  “It’s looking promising, Michael. Very promising,” Klaus said, putting his hand on my back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “YOU KNOW WHAT we should do?” I said to Annie that night when I got home, buoyed by the idea that we might finally have an investor in our project.

  “What’s that?”

  “Take the weekend off.”

  It had been years since we had taken a vacation, and although we were still together, in the last few months our relationship had become uncomfortable, like ill-fitting clothes, and we often snapped at one another for irrelevant details. The scale — with our compatibilities on one side and our incompatibilities on the other — seemed to be tipping into the negative. I wondered what had changed, but all I could think of was Annie’s illness. In the last few months she’d seemed more lethargic than ever.

  “I don’t know. We’re both so busy. I’m supposed to be doing vaccinations this weekend. Where would we go, anyway?”

  “I read the other day about a converted cruise ship. Apparently it’s in the waters off the east coast and can be accessed by helicopter.”

  “Not exactly my idea of a holiday destination.”

  “No, but there aren’t many other options left. And we need a break, Annie. If this deal goes through I’m going to be flat out for months, and before that happens I’d like to spend a little more time with you.” I moved closer to her but she backed away.

  “We spend plenty of time together,” she said, annoyed.

  “Not doing anything nice, though.”

  “How much does it cost?”

  “Let me check.” I did a search on the net and found the company’s site. “Here, check this out, they have a v-space tour.”

  I sent the link across to Annie’s com and together we were taken on a virtual tour of a cruise ship that was the size of a small town. It had swimming pools, tennis courts, a shopping mall, restaurants, concert and theatre halls, and a floating reef off the side where you could scuba dive amongst tropical fish.

  “It does look very nice,” Annie said.

  I talked to the virtual booking assistant and within a couple of minutes I’d booked us a suite.

  The next day we took a taxi out to the airport, which was right on the edge of the regulated zone. From there we boarded a helicopter with six other couples, a group of three elderly ladies, and two businessmen, and began our ascent across the Dandenong ranges.

  The Dandenongs, just outside of Melbourne, had once been covered with a spectacular forest, but now housed a cancerous growth of concrete and shipping container houses. It was here that Annie’s clinic was located and that the rebel forces threatening the city were apparently
grouping.

  Two hours later our helicopter swept out over the ocean and on the horizon I could see the huge floating fortress of the cruise ship.

  We were soon aboard and checking in at the reception desk. We were only staying three days so hadn’t brought much luggage, but the porter insisted on carrying our small case anyway. Annie and I looked at one another as we were led along an interior walkway. Two stories down to our left was an indoor garden with palm trees and park benches and about six stories above us was a huge glass roof. On our right were the doors to the rooms, and about half way along the porter slipped a card in one of them and motioned us inside.

  The room was just like a hotel room, with a king size bed, a small writing desk, some armchairs and a bathroom separated off by a glass screen. From the two round windows in the far wall you could see right out across to the horizon.

  “Here you are, sir and madam.” The porter lifted our bag onto a low shelf and bowed before leaving.

  The door closed behind him with a click and we were left in silence.

  I leant down to try to kiss Annie, but she pulled away from me and walked across to the window.

  “A drink?” I asked, picking up a drinks menu from the counter top.

  “You have one. You know alcohol makes me sleepy during the day.”

  “It’s not like you have to do anything.”

  She didn’t answer.

  I had hoped this break would bring us back together, give us some time to talk things over – everything that had gone unsaid between us as we focussed on work – but if Annie was going to act like this all weekend then being stuck in this room together would be difficult.

  We’d promised each other we weren’t going to do any work while we were away, but already I was looking forward to getting back to the lab. With the new funding we were getting from Gendigm, the possibilities would be endless.

  Then, for the first time, I wondered if helping Gendigm take over Geneus was really the right thing to do. I had been so focussed on the possibilities that the threats had hardly crossed my mind. What if they were simply trying to take over the company for their own purposes? How did I know who they really were and what they really wanted?