Doctor Becker gasped and fell back to her chair struggling for oxygen. Claudia darted around the table to offer her a consoling arm. Doctor Becker covered her face and eventually began to breathe again into her own palm.
“You’ve known for weeks and you waited until now?” Doctor Becker dropped her hand from her face to glare at Naseer with a razor sharp contempt. “Where’s Doctor Quarna?”
They would not answer her.
“I want to speak to him.” Doctor Becker shook her head angrily, disbelieving. “Tell that coward to show his face. He’s gone too far.”
“I’m here, Doctor Becker.” His voice came from everywhere at once, coming at her from every speaker in the room. “We’ll patch Jim through to you now,” Doctor Quarna instructed. “He’s already past the threshold. There’s no guarantees what we’re about to see.”
She did not care that he had heard her use of the word coward. In fact she wanted more. “I’ll never forgive you for this,” she assured him, then turned to include the others in the room. “Any of you.”
The feed from a holding chamber appeared on a wall panel. Doctor Jim Wescott wearing slacks and a plain gray t-shirt stood with his back to the camera looking out a small window to the sea. All eyes watched with trepidation as he turned around.
“We’re here with you, Jim.” Doctor Quarna’s voice seemed to cause no reaction from Doctor Wescott. Instead, he stared into the camera.
Doctor Becker held her heart at the sight of his sunken eyes and gaunt face. A long skin lesion cut across his bleach-white forehead. She had a hard time looking into his haunting eyes that were drained of their color. They were pale blue, almost white, and his pupils had shrunken down to the size of pin holes.
“Indeed, you are here, though sadly I am not.” Doctor Wescott grinned with defeated pride, oddly enamored by his choice of words. His voice was rough and hoarse. When he smiled, you could see that his gums were both bloody and scabbed.
No one said anything as they waited, watching their friend who was sliding past the threshold of sanity in front of their eyes.
“It’s as if I can hear your thoughts. My senses have become acute, almost mystical. You are thinking I am going insane. This is what we have always thought.” Doctor Wescott shook his head, his eyes locked on his own misshapen fingers, fully concentrated on ideas as if on the road to scientific discovery.
“Jim, Lotte is here. You have requested her,” Doctor Quarna said, attempting to redirect Doctor Wescott’s ramble.
“Do you each remember the name Masuda?”
Doctor Becker looked across to Doctors Pappas and Naseer. They had all heard of Masuda.
“Yes, Jim. I think we have all heard of him,” Doctor Naseer stated. “He had some radical ideas on possible effects of the C1 virus.”
Doctor Wescott laughed suddenly at Naseer. “You see I knew not only that you would say that but I knew that it would be you, Chandresh, who said it.” Doctor Wescott smiled, but his smiled turned manic and he groaned angrily and shook his head.
The other doctors sat back in alarm at the sight of his unraveling.
He calmed and exhaled. Blood from his gums had leaked onto his dry, chapped lips. “Forgive me, it is a struggle to stay patient with my thoughts.” He turned his haunting eyes directly at the camera. “Masuda’s assertion was that people with higher intellectual capacities could channel the effects.”
“He believed it could enhance genius.” Doctor Quarna’s voice held a new tone. He had become curious.
“The C1 virus had the potential to be evolutionary, accessing the untapped regions within the mind,” Doctor Wescott said with palpable sadness, almost regret. “He was right, my sense of anticipation is off the charts and I can remember the past with photographic clarity.”
Doctor Naseer and Doctor Pappas looked to each other immediately buying into the possibilities of this new discovery. Doctor Becker and Claudia were concerned by the regretful tone in which Doctor Wescott spoke.
“Jim,” Doctor Becker finally said, “can you stay with us a while longer? These discoveries are important.”
For the first time, a sweet smile overtook him and he was for a moment completely himself. “Lotte, my dear, even to my most ghastly impulse your voice is soothing.” He covered his mouth realizing his teeth and lips were bloodied. “I must be a sight to behold.”
“We see YOU, Jim. Nothing else,” Dr. Becker said.
“Masuda talked about blood intelligence, that the effects on the brain could be so pervasive that we could communicate with our blood.” His voice trailed off. He seemed to lose interest. “Doctor Quarna, please.”
Doctor Quarna cleared his throat and took over for Doctor Wescott. “Masuda was convinced that among the many incredible effects to the superior brain, someone of rare intellect would be able to supercharge their own immune system. They would be able to locate and destroy even the smallest impurities in the blood, even in our cells.”
“The ability to end all disease, even reverse aging,” Doctor Wescott added almost mournfully. “Sounds good, right?” He looked back into the camera, blood smudged just below his lips. “But don’t forget the last part of his work. The part we all know to be true.”
A chill swept conference room A. “The blood of the uninfected can stall the ill effects of the virus, a temporary stay if you will, to calm the savage soul,” Doctor Pappas said as if drawing from a horrible memory.
“Good for you, Doctor Pappas,” Doctor Wescott said with a wink. “But let me add to that. I know I am capable of anything, but I don’t care. My only concern is this horrible itch to my upper gums.” He opened his mouth and pulled open his upper lip wider to reveal the grotesque blood and scabbing of his upper gums.
“Here.” He pointed at what they could not take their eyes off of anyway. “There is a horrible hunger that creates the itch and then I can only scratch it begging for it to stop.”
The conference room, the screen and the speakers all remained quiet. Doctor Wescott stood and walked back to the window. “The only thing that can stop the itch would be to satiate my gums with blood and tissue. Yours, the children’s, it makes no difference. The itch is so great.”
He turned and nodded sadly across the room to the camera. He walked slowly to a small console in the middle of the chamber. A single red button appeared in the console screen. “Are we a go, Nathan?”
Panic washed over Doctor Becker’s face. She hoped she would never hear Doctor Quarna’s response to that question.
“Yes,” Dr Quarna said, weakly. “You are online.”
On the screen, Doctor Wescott stared down innocently at the console. In the conference room, Doctor Becker searched for a solution.
“Thanks for your service to the Eden Project, Jim,” Doctor Quarna said. “And thanks for your help these last few weeks from quarantine. The children will remember you even in the new worlds.”
“Stay with us, Jim. Please, just a few more days,” Doctor Becker pleaded through welling tears. “There’s so much more we can learn from you.”
“That is not the mission, Lotte. You know that.” He took a deep breath and stepped squarely in front of the console. “Do you remember the old fairytales, Lotte? Remember the ones where a beautiful girl would subdue the beast? With her lightest touch she could make him beautiful too.”
He looked up to the screen, waited for her to respond and then nodded when she never did. “Of course you remember.” He took deep breaths attempting to regulate his breathing. He dropped his gaze to the red button. “But those were just fairytales, my love.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she covered her mouth.
“Nothing and no one could ever subdue this beast.” Doctor Wescott’s right hand reached forward to meet the red button on the touch screen.
A sudden hiss, then an orange flash enveloped him in fire just before the screen went black. The sound of the rushing flames of incineration lingered in Lotte’s mind long after the speakers had been shu
t off.
-13-Adam and Zeke watched Tuna and Ozzie battle each other within the flight simulator. Tuna slid his left hand down a small control screen while pulling back on a grooved lever with his right hand. His seat rocked back in unison with his efforts. He fought the controls mightily trying to catch Ozzie who was always just ahead of him on their side-by-side display screens.
“You got him this time, kid,” Adam said, eagerly moving his body to the motion of Tuna’s simulator. “Stay in there, Tuna.”
Sweat moistened Tuna’s forehead while Ozzie confidently weaved through an asteroid belt. Zeke grinned while his eyes darted after Ozzie’s ship on the screen. Adam leaned forward trying to will Tuna to victory.
Ozzie’s ship hit open space on his screen, passed through a green mist and 8:31:26 came up on his screen, his final time.
Zeke patted Ozzie’s back. “Solid time, Oz.”
Tuna passed through the green mist and 8:31:34 came up on his screen. Tuna’s time dissolved and was replaced by the words PERSONAL BEST.
They celebrated Tuna’s new record with a round of back slaps and shoulder punches. Adam beamed proudly. Zeke took pause to notice Adam’s extreme enthusiasm, but quickly returned his attention to the revelry and rubbed Tuna’s hair in approval.
Ten feet behind them Sylvia, Maya and Gen regarded the boys’ excitement with confused indifference. “Why exactly would they be racing through an asteroid belt?” Maya asked, derisively. “It’s a good way to get us all killed.”
Maya and Sylvia grinned watching Zeke and Adam step back, pull out their scrollpads and set them next to two others on a nearby console. They returned to the simulators, sat down and belted themselves tightly into the seats. Ozzie and Tuna stood behind them, exchanging shoulder punches out of respect for their close race.
With everyone fixated on the next battle, Gen leaked away from her friends and moved quietly to the shadowy console where the four scrollpads lay. She slid her scrollpad out of its holster and set it on the console. In the same motion, she grabbed one of the other scrollpads and slid into her holster.
She walked back behind Maya and Sylvia unnoticed.
The three girls watched the race begin, with Adam and Zeke both weaving madly through an oncoming barrage of asteroids. At one point Adam spun his ship so that he was completely upside down in his simulator seat and yet he still weaved expertly through the maddening rush of projectiles.
Everyone smiled at Adam’s ridiculous skill level and sense of flare, everyone except Zeke who furrowed his brow and pulled just ahead in the race. Gen picked that moment to whisper a goodbye to her friends and quickly exit flight simulation.
* * *
HIDDEN BETWEEN ROWS of hydroponic cucumbers, Gen sat on the ground racing through folders on the scrollpad. On the top of the screen was the name Tyler Secondborn. She had taken Tuna’s scrollpad and was busily searching for some desired document.
She stopped on a folder called MISCELLANEOUS.
The understated title made her curious. She opened it to find a single document called “This is how”. She clicked to see the full document title, “This is how the world ends”.
Her adrenaline flushed through her. She opened the document and began reading. She scrolled through pages and saw dates and, yes, personal notes. “Tuna’s diary,” she whispered happily to herself as she scrolled through searching for something specific.
She stopped, frustrated. She stared out at the tall green rows of hydroponic crops and was hit with an idea. She turned her attention back to the screen. She opened the FIND function and typed, “static”. The results popped up and she clicked on the first find. When the entry came up she smiled down at the glow of the screen.
She read the entry out loud, “The crackle of static was hardly warning for that quiet voice from another world. His strange words exploded into my ears.”
Gen looked up from the scrollpad, stunned. “Oh my god,” she said. Her stunned eyes opened wider and she read on.
* * *
TUNA AND ZEKE BOARDED ES1, walked through the depressurization chamber and entered the main corridor. Tuna carried Gen’s scrollpad in his hands. Zeke seemed preoccupied.
“You would have broken the old record, Zeke. That was incredible. He just nosed you out at the end.”
“Yeah, he nosed me out and he still has the record,” Zeke pointed out. “Thanks, Tuna, but don’t feed me compliments. It insults my intelligence. He flew the entire asteroid belt upside down.”
“Adam’s Adam,” Tuna explained, “but you’re easily faster than Ozzie and me.”
Zeke glared down at Tuna. “Never mind that, let’s find Gen. I’m sure she just grabbed your pad by mistake.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Tuna said, not sure at all.
They entered Gen’s gardens and found nothing but green plants and the soft drone of the irrigation systems. A soft misting of nearby plants brought a sudden glisten to the crops to their left. They walked the other way, row to row, trying to spot any sign of Gen. Nothing. They stopped at the end and shook their heads.
“I bet you’re looking for this.” Gen approached from behind. “I knew Tuna would be on his way. I have his life support.”
They turned to find Gen holding his scrollpad. Tuna’s desperate expression humored her. He walked purposefully toward her, handed over her scrollpad and snatched back the one she offered in return.
He gave his scrollpad the once over, making sure it was in one piece, then slid it securely into his holster. He stared at Gen waiting for an explanation.
“What?” Gen said with a laugh. “It was dark in there. I got dizzy with all your crazy flying and grabbed the wrong pad on the way out.”
Zeke, ever the protector, gave Tuna a dismissive look. “That’s what we thought. Right, Tuna?”
Tuna thought no such thing. He continued to consider Gen and her oddly amused expression and evasive eyes. He knew then that she was not so innocent. “Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he said and walked past them.
Zeke watched Tuna leave the gardens, confused. “He actually thinks you stole his scrollpad.”
“Oh, no, he doesn’t. Not really,” Gen redirected, touching Zeke’s chest with her hand gently. “He’s just obsessed with his scrollpad is all.”
Zeke, still overwhelmed with her hand’s soft touch, quickly forgot Tuna’s odd behavior. He reached out in a daze to let his fingers run through the shiny strands of her hair.
His sudden affection caught Gen off guard. She became immediately embarrassed by his love struck eyes. She glanced away, avoiding his stare and stepped back. “Zeke, what are you doing?”
The resistance in her tone, snapped him back to reality. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I should go, I’m late for a thing,” Zeke stammered and blushed. “I better get going, okay?” He hurried past her, past the rows of crops and darted out of the gardens.
No longer amused, Gen stood alone among the quiet drone of the gardens and wondered about a million things at once. Is it possible to learn so much you lose the ability to understand anything? Is it possible to feel so much you lose a sense of what feelings mean?
Every step forward from here, she thought, would betray all that she once was and ever hoped to be. If she could go back now she would, but no sooner could she regain her former innocence than she could reverse all the ills that befell the world.
-14-Tuna entered the exercise room where dozens of boys were working out with resistance machines. He surveyed the room unsuccessfully and then hurried into the locker room.
Adam stood by an open locker zipping the top of his jumpsuit. When Tuna approached, Adam picked up a towel to dry his hair.
“I know that look, Tuna.” Adam threw the towel over a bench into a tall basket. He reached into the locker, grabbed a comb and started ordering his hair.
“Your girlfriend’s at it again. She took my scrollpad. She’s snooping around or something.”
Adam stopped combing to consider Tuna. �
�So what possible good is your scrollpad to Gen?”
Tuna sat down and tried to find an answer. “I have no clue why she’d take it. I have thousands of documents on there. Unless she knew what she was looking for, it would be a hopeless search. It’s just what burns me is I know, I know absolutely that she took it on purpose. I could see it in her condescending smile.”
Adam sat down next to Tuna on the bench. A line of logic formed slowly in Adam’s mind. Tuna could see the revelation emerging on his face. “You said it,” Adam began, “she wouldn’t want your scrollpad unless she knew what she was after.”
Tuna shifted uncomfortably in his seat when Adam studied him. “But she wouldn’t have any idea what to search for among all that.”
“Tuna, let’s just say that somehow she knows exactly what to find on there,” Adam hypothesized. “And judging from the way you’ve been talking there is in fact something on there she would want to find.” Adam twisted sideways to grab Tuna by the shoulders. “Well, what is it then, Tuna? What could she find on there?”
“The only thing,” Tuna began and then stopped abruptly.
“What’s the only thing?” Adam demanded after releasing Tuna.
“She could find my diary.”
“Your diary? Really?” Adam laughed with a sense of relief. “Who cares? Or is it she’ll find some inappropriate daydreams you’ve had about your future wedding night with Cassie?” Adam grinned and pushed Tuna away good naturedly.
“It’s not that kind of diary, dill weed,” Tuna answered, pushing Adam back. Tuna knew immediately he had said the wrong thing.
“What kind of diary is it, Tuna?” Adam’s voice hardened. “You put it all down, didn’t you?” Adam probed. “Like some kind of confession.”
“I didn’t realize we were criminals, Adam.” Tuna stood up and started to pace, considering the possibilities. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all written very metaphorically. Only I would really understand it, or, in some cases, maybe you would understand.”
“She may not act like it all the time, but there’s very little that girl doesn’t understand.”
The Eden Project: Humanity's Last Chance Page 7
