End of The World: The Beginning

by Nesly Clerge

  A thought tickled my brain: Where had Karl performed Angelo Everett’s transplant? It wasn’t mentioned in the interview, and I couldn’t risk asking KATE for that information. Leaving a search trail often got people thrown into temporary detention at the Peacekeepers Intervention Center, or their funds reduced, if the Order decided such research was improper or intrusive. Leaders were firm in their position about how they could be trusted to give us any information we needed to know. Their reason was that unnecessary information created stress and risked misinterpretation, both of which were against the Peace for All Agenda.

  I had KATE pull up a list of previous weather records, going back to the 1960s, a time prior to orchestrated weather events (or so I thought then). I wanted to see if a pattern emerged. There were instances of spontaneous hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, and other severe storms with high levels of rainfall, but nothing like the day of the transplant. I heard my mother’s voice whisper in my mind, Watch for the signs of approaching end-times.

  I glanced at the cabinet where a few books of hers I’d kept were tucked away. I found Mom’s Bible, opened the cover, and ran my hand over the pages where, in her smooth handwriting, she’d entered in the names of family births, marriages, and deaths. The last entry on the Deaths page was her name, written in by her, the date of her passing a decade ago added by me.

  When I checked the Concordance at the back and saw how many pages there were for segments about end-times, I realized it was too much to read at that hour. I was tired and wanted to get to sleep earlier than usual. However, one segment she’d read to me as a child nudged me to find it. I did, in Matthew.

  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The Order was clear that the Peace for All Agenda meant the end of poverty. They hadn’t eliminated it completely as yet, but were moving in that direction. Most people around the world received subsidies if not yet assigned to a work program, or were infirm or too aged to work. That was the moment I realized I had no idea what those who’d refused the chip did for credits for food, housing, or even basic needs. How they made phone calls or watched entertaining shows, or how they paid for transportation. Guilt filled me for a moment, and then I continued to read.

  Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. I couldn’t see how the Order would end mourning, but the low level of sedatives added to tap and bottled water managed to have some effect. Only those in higher positions of service, such as myself, were allowed non-dosed, filtered water. Our creativity and productivity needed to be sharp and consistent. Rote work didn’t require that level of brain power.

  It wasn’t that most people on dosed water were calm and content, or even happy, but most were fine about going to work then returning home, rather than causing problems for the Order or society. Some had a higher resistance, it seemed—the troublemakers, those who’d received the chip and likely had a biochemical reaction to it—mundane protesters, as the Order labeled them. Protesters without the chip caused all manner of disruption as often as they could. Most were clever enough to get away with it. Some were caught and arrested.

  Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Food credits were added into our individual KATE accounts at the first of each month, those who received the chip, that is. Food shopping was tracked. If you bought too little or too much, you were contacted to find out why. If you were going to have guests over for dinner or for an extended stay, or giving a party, you had to clarify this as your need for additional foods and beverages to KATE before you placed your order. I’d always enjoyed going to the grocery store with my mother, who used each trip as an opportunity to teach me something about picking the right foods, cooking, entertaining, and budgeting money. My daughters would never have a similar shopping experience, and that saddened me.

  Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. This one gave me pause. The Order stated they were the peacemakers, but peace did not exist. There were the usual events I mentioned above. And pockets of larger wars continued to break out periodically as a result of friends and foes continually switching sides faster than most of us cared to keep up with. There was still a small number of chip-less protesters who hacked into KATE to get their messages out, until they were caught and never heard from again. The protesters were adamant that we shake off our mental fog and see what was really going on. Their mantra was “Wake up! It’s almost too late.” I had no idea what they meant, and feared a penalty if I researched this. Their messages always signed off with Peace through Strength, which sounded a lot like the Order. It was all very confusing.

  I read on and came to a passage that grabbed my attention: Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment.

  If the Bible held truth, Dr. Karl, and those complicit in his endeavors and others, seemed to be playing with fire, if not damnation.

  And I wondered how many of us could or would get burned as a result of their dangerous whims.

  ENTRY 9

  You might imagine my surprise when someone I never expected to contact me did so the next day, while I was at work. KATE said in her even voice, “Gayle, I have a call request from Dr. Karl Armstrong. Will you accept?”

  She had to ask twice before I said, “Yes.” A holographic image of Karl, from the shoulders up, appeared three feet in front of me.

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Conyers. May I call you Gayle?”

  “Yes. Karl.”

  He grinned and said, “You saw my interview with that vacuous woman yesterday. How did I do?”

  “How do you know that?”

  Karl shrugged. “That’s not important. As a scientist, surely you were intrigued.”

  “It was an intense debate.”

  “I mean about what’s now possible.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure what I think about it. It’s still sinking in. Nor do I understand why you’ve called me.”

  “I want you to work for me. I beg your pardon—with me.”

  “I don’t understand. You must be aware of what my field of expertise is, and that it has nothing to do with yours.”

  “But it does. Your work involves finding a way to shut off the telomerase enzyme of the mutated HIVm virus, as well as finding a way to add length to telomeres of desirable healthy cells to extend their existence. That very much complements my endeavors.”

  “Still not seeing the connection, Karl.”

  “I want to extend healthy brain cell replication and regeneration. Replication of all healthy cells, in fact. As that’s in your research neighborhood—your bailiwick, as it were, it makes sense to include you. Stem cells do only so much, you know.”

  “Is something amiss with Dr. Everett’s brain or body since the transplant? You said he’s doing fine.”

  “He is, he is. The gist of the matter is that we don’t want to have to continuously repeat the transplants over time, especially as we have no empirical evidence regarding how many times we can do so beyond once, and who knows how long that research would take. Longer than we choose.”

  “So your goal is to extend cell life for at least another generation?”

  “The Order would like to start with three thousand years.”

  My expression made him laugh. Then he got serious. “I ask that you meet with me after work.”

  “I can’t. I have to get home to tend to my—”

  “Yes, your twin daughters. I understand. I need only a few minutes of your time. I’ll be in front of your lab at five. It’s to your advantage to speak with me. Call ended.”

  He knew too much about me.

  He was too insistent.

  I had to find out why.

  ENTRY 10

  “Let’s walk across to the park,” Karl said when I joined him. So we did. Under his arm was a roll of something wrapped in cloth, something with a bit of weight to it. We reached a bench. Karl unfurled the rolle
d material and placed it on the thick wooden slats.

  He sat and said, “Now we can speak safely.”

  I seated myself next to him and ran my fingers over the smooth material. “What is this?”

  “Specially treated lead. It blocks KATE’s ability to hear what we say.”

  “But KATE knows you called and asked to meet. KATE knows I’ve joined you here.”

  “I was able to tweak that. For now, you’re off line, but only temporarily. His smile was sympathetic. “I understand your shock. Before KATE, the Order had to rely on electronic devices: Televisions, electric power meters for residences and offices, surveillance cameras, and cash cards—anything with a chip—to acquire much of its information about individuals. Additional information was obtained through social sites. It turned out to be an ideal way to accumulate personal details about individuals, their relatives, friends, associates, likes, dislikes, political and religious leanings or the absence thereof. Now, they’re able to know nearly everything about everyone, including their mood. Relax, they haven’t as yet found a way to read thoughts. Still, most people are unaware of the breadth of KATE’s capabilities—I only know this because of my ranking. The Order prefers to remain silent about this, so best to keep this information to yourself.”

  “Why would they do that? It’s intrusive.”

  “Perhaps you’ll find out why later. There’s no time for that now.”

  “Apparently, what you want to discuss could get us into trouble.” I started to stand and he pulled me back down. I shook off his moist hand. “You’re putting me in danger, you arrogant fool.”

  “Us, my dear, and not as much as you fear. But as I’ve explained, as long as we stay on the lead sheet, we’re fine. Still, we need to be brief, so please let me speak.

  “I was serious about immortality for those selected. We need such high-caliber individuals as we move forward. As the Order’s plans advance, we’ll need fewer low-level workers who burden the system and contribute nothing more than menial service. We’ll always need some of them, of course, but, thankfully, far fewer of them in future.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “A farm can house and feed only so many animals. But, let’s not get off track. As chance would have it, and even though I’m the fuel that moves this engine, I’ve been informed that despite my extraordinary contribution, as my IQ is 158, I don’t qualify for continuation. I think they’re lying about that. Something else, or someone, has disqualified me and I intend to find out what, who, or why.” His face reddened. “They expect me to make others immortal, but only until I begin to grow feeble, or I die. It’s unacceptable.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to find a way to bypass the need for a transplant so you can be immortal.”

  “Not just me, my dear.” His lips stretched into a smile, but his gaze pierced me.

  It took a moment but I got his intention. “I don’t know that I choose to be immortal.”

  “That’s a childish response. Imagine living forever,” he looked directly into my eyes, “along with your daughters. You’d never have to see them experience disease or die, just as they’d never have to experience your decline and death. None of you would ever have to mourn that tragic loss. Imagine the wealth and knowledge you’d each accumulate over time. Think of all you could do here on Earth. And, I’m certain we’ll soon expand space travel, and perhaps even find a way to cross safely into other dimensions and return to this one. Imagine what you’d discover. What extraordinary accomplishments you could participate in.”

  “You forget that I haven’t had success as yet. What if time runs out before I do?”

  “That isn’t a concern. I have access to equipment that is far advanced than what you have, my dear. Far advanced. And I can get better technology, if needed. I’m certain of it. There are those who would be willing to invest, if they believed it would benefit them.

  “Understand this, my dear: One day quite soon they’ll find a way for the chip and brain to merge in a more complete way. A new, expanded human will result. We’ll need bodies that can be rejuvenated and sustained for generations, preferably forever. Preferably our own bodies.”

  I saw a different advantage than what Karl focused on. For decades, we’d had the chemicals that could reverse or halt most but not all telomere damage. This reversed or eliminated a number of degenerative diseases in organs, including the brain—in mice. We hadn’t been able to move this therapy to humans as yet for a specific reason: The treated tissues inevitably turned cancerous, and cancer cells have nearly non-existent damage to telomeres. Those cell live until the host dies. If I could turn off telomeres for cancer cells and turn on and extend the ones for healthy cells to halt degenerative cellular aging …

  My mother had read to me from the Bible about Methuselah, reported as living 696 healthy years. I’d never made the connection, but perhaps that’s why telomere research intrigued me so. Having looked at the Bible only the night before, it was easy to understand why Matthew 5:4 flashed into my mind: Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

  Immortality would end the inevitable mourning of a loved one.

  I seriously doubted Karl’s brand of immortality was one the higher power would approve of.

  ENTRY 11

  “I’ll need to think about this,” I said to Karl as I wiped July-hot sweat from my forehead.

  “What’s there to think about?”

  “For one, other than us, who would be invited into immortality?”

  Karl shrugged. “Only the best. Why carry inferior humans into the future?”

  I genuinely found this man disgusting. “If this is supposed to be kept secret from the Order, at least initially, who decides who the best people are and who is inferior? Personally, I don’t feel qualified to make such judgment about others.”

  “You’re putting way too much thought into this, my dear, and you’re using up our time with these unproductive questions.”

  “It feels off. Wrong. A departure from the natural order.”

  “The natural order is flawed in this matter, as it is in others. We embark on explorations, make progress, see some results—we hope, only to have our minds or bodies eventually fail us. Then we’re either decrepit or we die, sometimes never seeing the fruition of our efforts. Imagine what we could do if we could continue for generations. Surely you see that.”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel right. Besides, what if what comes after this life is even more worthy of exploration or provides all we could ever want or need?” I didn’t mention the childlike hope that I’d one day see my parents again.

  Karl’s expression resembled that of a person on the other end of a bad odor. “I never took you to be one of them. A person with your intellect believing in that superstitious nonsense? It’s unthinkable.

  “My dear, we’re almost to the limit of how long we can safely be absent from KATE’s watchful eye. Once we’re off the lead sheet, it will take ninety seconds for her to recalibrate our re-emergence into the system, so you must hurry back to your office. Also, it should go without saying that our little chat is strictly confidential. You seem confused, which you shouldn’t be. I’ll give you a week to get your head on straight.” He realized what he’d said, laughed and slapped his thigh.

  Karl stood. I did the same and watched him roll up his lead sheet. He told me to hurry and walked away.

  I sped back to my office and instructed KATE to send a taxi.

  “Where were you, Gayle?”

  “Sorry?” I sucked in my breath and shivered as I realized Karl had told the truth. The question was, would KATE reveal this to me. It was a few seconds before I got a response.

  “You usually order your taxi at the same time every day. You’re nearly fifteen minutes late.”

  I wondered exactly what kind of tweaking Karl had done for KATE not to mention the meeting, considering I was supposed to still be online when I met him out front. I c
hose to avoid that topic, unless KATE brought it up. So I said, “Bathroom.” It was the only thing I could think of in a hurry. Although it was understood that we had privacy once we crossed the electronic sensor at the door of every bathroom in creation, the order preferred for us to inform KATE that we needed privacy off-line for such personal moments, as well as for approximately how long, which, obviously, I hadn’t done but previously had. I wondered if KATE would mention that fact. I also wondered if guarantee of privacy was solely for our mental benefit, something we were supposed to believe was honored but wasn’t. If the person monitoring me through KATE checked for a system glitch and didn’t find one, I couldn’t afford to worry about that.

  “Are you ill, Gayle? Should I contact medical?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You appear stressed.”

  “Just wish success would come faster.”

  “Your taxi will be there in three minutes.”

  ENTRY 12

  My ride was waiting when I exited the front door of the building. I climbed in, rested back and closed my eyes, and hoped Karl was right about KATE’s inability to read thoughts.

  A few minutes later the taxi slowed to a stop. I opened my eyes and leaned forward to look through the windshield. Protesters blocked the road in front of the Church of the Illumined Congregation of the Lightbearer. One of the protesters carried a poster mounted on a stick, with an accurate and graphic drawing of Karl’s face, his neck “bloody” from having been severed. Several carried placards that bore statements meant to be read in the order the people marched in, words they were shouting: The earth is defiled by its people; they have disobeyed the laws, violated the statutes and broken the everlasting covenant. Therefore a curse consumes the earth; it’s people must bear their guilt.

  The taxi horn beeped and we waited for the small crowd to disperse, beeped again, waited a few seconds more. The tires squealed. I was thrown back and screamed as the car sped into the protesters, several of whom were unable to get out of the way.