The Eve Genome

by Joanne Brothwell

  “Hi,” Adriana said, her mouth barely pulled up at the corners into a half-smile. I could imagine myself sucking on those lips and the thought of it made my belly clench. She took another bite of apple with perfect white teeth. She was gorgeous.

  Derek nodded perfunctorily at them. “Tait. Zoe.”

  The guy, Tait, slapped Adriana’s lab table. “A-dog,” he said in a mock-ghetto voice. “We have great news.” His smile exposed both upper and lower teeth. He had a Disney look to him, all perfectly styled, spikey blond hair and big, round eyes.

  Zoe leaned across the aisle and set something in front of her. “Tonight. Seven tickets to the Ruminate concert. Are you in?”

  Adriana stared at the concert tickets on the table in front of her. Derek gawked at the tickets as well, his mouth slightly open until he noticed me watching him. Then his eyes narrowed and he turned back toward the front of the class.

  “How did you get them? I heard they were sold out.” Adriana looked at the tickets as if they were worth a fortune.

  “I was logged in and ready to click the moment the tickets went on sale,” Tait said.

  “Wow. Thanks, guys. But I can’t. Not tonight. Sorry” Adriana smiled and handed them back to Zoe, who stuffed them into her purse. Then something stormy and tempestuous replaced Adriana’s sunny expression.

  The BioChem Professor strode in. He stood about six feet tall, with dark hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He quickly nodded to the class before he turned around and wrote his name on the blackboard. Dr. Johansson. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in formal wear, opting for jeans and a t-shirt beneath his white lab coat. The cool professor. The I’m-cool-and-scholarly type. I could just see him on his recumbent bike, his backpack for a briefcase in the carrying basket in front, pedalling home from his tough day teaching students about stuff they never thought about again after they wrote the final exam.

  He turned back toward the class, and after awkwardly muttering his name and the title of the class, handed out the course syllabus. Then he launched into a lecture about mitochondrion outer and inner membranes composed of phospholipid bilayers and proteins. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  Adriana leaned back in her desk and dug into her pack again where her telephone buzzed. She was looking down at it when Dr. Johansson stopped speaking and glared at her.

  “Excuse me,” Dr. Johansson said, his eyes narrowing into slits. “You may not care about wasting your tuition dollars, but the other students here do.”

  A professor with a self-righteous streak and a hot temper. Great.

  Adriana glanced up and a pink flush crept across her cheeks. She stuffed her phone back into her purse and nodded. “Sorry. I was listening.”

  “If you were listening, you would know the five distinct parts to a mitochondrion. Can you recite them for the class, please?” Dr. Johansson asked. His face twisted up into a mocking smile. Self-righteous and condescending. Charming.

  Adriana looked down. “Oh, um… okay. The outer mitochondrial membrane, the intermembrane space, the inner mitochondrial membrane, and…. I’m sorry. I can’t remember.”

  “The cristae space and the matrix,” I said, levelling my gaze on Dr. Johansson. The professor’s eyes glazed over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Adriana was looking right at me. She smiled and mouthed, Thank you. I smiled back, lost in this moment, our gazes locked. Until Dr. Johansson cleared his throat.

  I looked up at him and noticed how his expression was somewhat more relaxed. “I don’t think I asked you, Mr…?”

  “Kane, sir,” I said. “My name is Kalan Kane.”

  “Well, Mr. Kane. I didn’t ask you for the answer, did I?” Self-importance oozed from the man, but in a schoolyard bully way. I didn’t like him. Not one bit.

  “Sorry, Doctor,” I said with complete neutrality.

  The prof’s face softened even further, and a tiny, self-impressed smile tugged the sides of his mouth up. “Fine. Don’t do it again.” He turned back to the board and began to write out the words I’d recited.

  Adriana half-turned in her seat, her lips tucked together to stifle a smile. Was it possible she was what I hoped she was? Her evocative eyes were the exact hue of the identifying marker. Her waist was tiny, and she had a long torso as well, a probable sign of the other marker. And the sister stuff… It probably wasn’t really a question of whether she was one. The question was, did she even know what she was?

  Class ended and the students filed toward the door. I took my time cleaning up and putting lab supplies away, placing my books into my backpack with slow precision, to kill time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adriana nod to her friends before they left. When my books were all securely in place, I straightened up. She was looking right at me.

  “Hi,” Adriana said as she gathered her backpack and swung it over her shoulder. She stepped forward and as she drew nearer, an infusion of her scent filled the air, a lovely combination of soap and raspberries. The mixture made my head spin and my mouth water. “I’m Adriana,” she said.

  “Hi, I’m Kalan.”

  “I wanted to thank you for stepping up like that. It’s not often someone will take on Johansson. He’s got quite the reputation for being a hot-head. Last year a student from a course on social deviance was hanging around in his classroom, acting like a… well, a social deviant, and Johansson lost it. His face turned all purple and he started screaming and freaking out.” Adriana rolled her eyes. “Anyway, thanks. I’m heading to my next class. You?”

  “You’re welcome. And yes, I’m heading to my next class too.” I followed her out the door and we set off down the bleach-scented hallway, the janitor halfway down the hall, mopping away. “Which classroom are you—”

  I was interrupted by a jeering call that originated from a group of mammoth-sized guys lingering against a windowsill. “Wow, that is quite a tan, dude.” A few of them were grinning while others looked away, as if pretending nothing happened. I was used to these kinds of comments. I’d been called worse.

  Adriana swore and shot them a glare. “So rude,” she said, loud enough for them to hear. We continued to walk. “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what I’ve been called before,” I said.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you… albino? Sorry, is that even a politically correct term?”

  We took a few more steps down the hall before I finally answered. “Yeah. I have Acromia. It’s a genetic anomaly.”

  “I know. Albinism affects approximately one in twenty thousand people,” Adriana said, looking up at me through a thick fringe of black lashes. “Remembered it from first-year Bio.”

  “Impressive. And do you remember why?” I smiled. “Why I have white hair, the white skin?”

  Adriana’s eyes widened. “The absence of an enzyme involving the production of melanin,” she said as if describing the ingredients involved in making Kraft Dinner. “Have you ever had the genetic test?”

  “Yes. But it only served to confirm what I already knew.”

  We approached a corner, where it was clear we were about to part ways. “I’m heading to this way,” Adriana said, examining my face so closely my nerves began to sing. “Hey—what about your eyes? They aren’t pink,” Adriana’s own pupils dilated, endlessly black within a tiny ring of pale teal.

  I nodded, swallowing against a lump in my throat. “I know. They’re more—”

  “Silver,” Adriana interrupted in a liquid voice. She stepped forward and set warm fingers on my jaw, tilting my face down for a closer look. I swallowed. She was far more… assertive than what I’d expected. Her finger pressure was tight, but the skin of her hand was warm, soft. Her scent curled up around me once again, the heady infusion so sweet and so potent I got light-headed.

  Her eyes shimmered, her mouth slightly open. Few girls had ever been this close to me before, especially a girl who also happened to
look like a model. My cheeks warmed.

  “Silver eyes. So cool,” Adriana said. She let go of my jaw.

  It was obvious we were about to part ways. Shit. Just ask. “Hey, I heard you talking to your friend in class. You said something about having a weird blood type?”

  Adriana’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Just curious,” I said with a shrug. “I guess, since I’m a genetic mutant, I enjoy finding other people with weird stuff about them.”

  The suspicious look melted from Adriana’s face and she smiled. “I’ll bet my mutant qualities beat out albino any day.”

  I chuckled. “Oh?”

  Adriana glanced around again, as if expecting to see someone taping our conversation. When she appeared satisfied we weren’t being overheard, she whispered, “My blood type doesn’t even exist.”

  “Oh?” Yes. She officially did have all of the markers.

  “Oh is right. My sister died three days ago because of it.” Immediately, Adriana’s eyes filled with moisture. The tears turned her eyes an almost preternatural shade of turquoise, the colour of a tropical ocean.

  My gut tightened. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.”

  Adriana shook her head. “Three days ago, my twin sister, Analiese, was hit by a drunk driver. She died from a blood transfusion.” Two fat teardrops spilled from Adriana’s eyes and made squiggly wet streaks down her cheeks. “And that was the day her jackass boyfriend decided he wanted a piece of the other twin, too.”

  I swept the tears from her cheekbones with my thumb, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Nobody should have to lose their loved one that way, Adriana. And jackass doesn’t even come close to describing the boyfriend.” I wondered if the boyfriend was that guy she blew off in class, Derek.

  She looked down, her eyes re-filling with moisture. “I feel so stupid to be telling you this at school. Now I’ll be bawling my head off all day.”

  “I know this probably won’t help, but…” I watched a huge tear pool at the bottom of her eye, and when it tipped out, I swept it from her cheek. Idiot. Way too intimate. “I’ve heard time heals.”

  Adriana’s tears came in hot currents now. She lowered her head.

  All of a sudden, my thumb grew warm and turned into an odd burning sensation. It reminded me of a wound doused in rubbing alcohol. I looked at it. The skin was growing redder by the second.

  “I lead the Human Genome Project, which has now revealed all of the 3 billion letters of our own DNA instruction book. I am also a Christian. For me, scientific discovery is also an occasion of worship.”

  - Francis Collins Director, National Human Genome Research Institute

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ADRIANA SINCLAIR

  Kalan returned from the bathroom just as my cell phone rang in my pocket. “Just a sec,” I said, pulling the phone from my jeans. I checked the caller ID. Mom. Undoubtedly checking to see if I’d made it through a class without falling apart. I had. I guess I’d passed a hurdle. Maybe I shouldn’t have. “Hi, Mom. Have you found anything?”

  Kalan watched me with inscrutable eyes as my mother’s voice exploded in my ear. “Nothing yet. I’m going to visit grandma today. Have you told NHGRI you’re not interested? Because if you don’t, they’ll just keep hounding you.”

  I took a deep breath and smiled at Kalan. “I’m going to go, Mom.”

  Silence on the other end stretched out, and I wondered if she’d hung up or dropped the phone. I jumped when she finally spoke again. “No,” her voice was a breathy whisper. I knew from years of interactions with my mother that she was fighting back tears, and if they came out, I probably wouldn’t be able to stand up to them. Her tears could crumble my resolve like rain washing away sand. I had to get off the phone. Fast.

  “Mom, they’re asking for my voluntary cooperation. There’s nothing conspiratorial going on there. I’m a scientific anomaly, that’s all.” I heard gasping through the phone. “Look, I’m talking to someone right now, I’ll call you later and we can discuss it then, okay?”

  She responded with a choked garble. The floodgates were nearly open. Less than thirty seconds left. “Tonight. At six.”

  “Okay. See you then.” I hung up, turned my cell off and shoved it into my backpack. Then I looked up at Kalan. “My mom. She’s still raw from Analiese’s death.”

  “Of course. I’m sure you both are,” he said.

  I gulped in a breath. “She doesn’t want me to go to the National Human Genome Research Institute for genetic testing. She thinks they’re going to do terrible things to me. I think it’s really because she’s afraid to let me out of her sights, because she’s afraid she’ll lose me too…”

  Kalan’s gaze clouded over, momentarily. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s a reason for her to be afraid?”

  What was he talking about? He couldn’t possibly think my mother’s irrational paranoia had any legitimacy? “I’m sorry?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe your mother’s on to something.”

  I stared at him. He looks normal. Sort of. “Can you elaborate?”

  Kalan shrugged. “I don’t know. Mothers have eyes in the backs of their heads. They always seem to know.”

  I smiled. “Usually her superhero mom-senses are right on target. But lately, the way she’s been acting… I don’t know.” I thought of her odd behaviour in Maryland, with the research team and then on our way home. “This is out of character. She’s not in her right mind.”

  “Well, you know her best.”

  “Hey, um, I need to make a phone call,” I said. “It’s kind of private.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll get us a quick coffee.” Kalan set off for the Starbucks at the end of the hall and I dialled Dr. McGill‘s personal cell number.

  After three rings, he answered. “Hello? Adriana?”

  How did he know it was me phoning? “Hi, Dr. McGill, I’m calling to let you know I’ve made a decision to come to the institute for the testing you requested—”

  He cut me off. “Look, Adriana. Something has… happened. I don’t know how to tell you this, but something terrible has happened to Analiese.” My heart felt like it fell to the floor. But she was already dead. What worse could possibly happen? “Her body is missing.”

  I stared straight ahead, watching Kalan’s tall form as he stood in front of Starbucks paying for our coffees, my voice refusing to speak the astonished words that bubbled around in my head. Like Ping-Pong inside my skull, question after question. Dr. McGill‘s frantic words only causing interference, like a little bee that wouldn’t stop buzzing. I’m so sorry. We have no idea how this could have happened. We have a state of the art security system. There’s no logical answer for this.

  Finally, I forced the words out. “How? How could her body be gone?”

  “We have no idea. The police have been notified. I’m certain they’ll be arriving shortly to investigate.” He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “Adriana, I’m afraid there’s no point in you coming right now. With the police here and Analiese’s body missing, we won’t be able to work on your case for quite some time. But I do hope when this has all been resolved you will consider coming at a later date?”

  “I… Look. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait.” Dr. McGill said. “I still need to notify your mother…”

  “I’ll tell her,” I said.

  “Oh. Okay.” He was clearly relieved.

  I hung up.

  Kalan returned to me with a hot cup, but after taking one look at me he set my coffee down on a window ledge. “What’s wrong?”

  It was all so bizarre. “Analiese’s body is missing from NHGRI.”

  Kalan’s mouth gaped as his coffee-holding hand lowered from his mouth, as if his paper cup was suddenly too heavy. “Her body is just gone?”

  “Gone.” My lips were cold. My tongue was numb. My fingertips tingled.

  “I knew it.” Kalan set his cup on the windowsill beside mine.<
br />
  What did he mean, I knew it?

  “What?”

  “I know why you and your sister are different,” Kalan said. “And you know it too. You had lain awake, thinking about it, even before Analiese died. Day after day, you stare at your computer screen, knowing you should search something, don’t you?”

  “Kalan, you’re freaking me out, here.”

  He continued, undeterred. “You’re looking for the truth. You have a question, don’t you? I know because it’s the same question I ask myself. The same question I’ve been asking myself… my whole life.”

  My throat was tight. Dry. I swallowed against it. “What’s the question?”

  He levelled his gaze on mine, compelling me to answer my own question. I shook my head, no.

  As each word slipped from his mouth, my skin grew colder. “You ask yourself, why am I different?”

  Now I was trembling, though I had absolutely no idea why. Why would I be upset that an albino was saying this to me? Of course he wondered why he was different. Pull it together! He’s bound to wonder if he was cursed at birth. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t just that. What Kalan was referring to was clearly something far deeper than the mere chromosomal abnormality.

  “And what are you suggesting? That you have the answer?” I asked.

  “The answer is out there.” Kalan bit the inside of his cheek. “And I have a feeling if we don’t find it, the answer will find us.”

  “You’re looking for answers? To what?”

  “Would you like to go for a drive?” Kalan asked. “There’s a lot to explain. Maybe we could get out of here, skip class and talk about it?”

  What did I have to lose by skipping class and going with him? I’d already lost everything important in my life, and besides, this guy didn’t look like he could harm a fly. “Sure.”

  Kalan and I left the university campus without my returning to Dr. Johansson’s office for my assignment and reading list. It seemed pointless. I could barely pay attention to an hour-long lecture, let alone do homework and assignments. This year was a total write-off, and the sooner I admitted it to myself, the better. Discussing the decision with my mother was another story altogether. I’ll deal with that later.