Eden's Root

by Rachel Fisher

  “So now what Papa?” she asked. He smiled back in an odd way…like the smile never reached his eyes really.

  “Now I need you to go close the door,” he said quietly.

  Fi’s brows knotted quizzically again, but she got up and walked over to shut the door and came back to sit by his side. For at least a minute her father did not say anything, he just kind of sighed and patted her hand. Fi waited patiently. She was content just to spend time with him, to be touching him. Still, his manner was making her a little nervous.

  “Fi, my little one,” he finally started. “I am going to tell you a lot of things tonight and I need you to listen with an open mind, ok?” She studied his face. He was very serious all of a sudden. His face had already changed so much with the cancer that it was hard to tell whether his face was wrinkled with concern or just exhaustion, but she could swear she saw concern there. Concern for her, she wondered?

  She said nothing and simply smiled a bit and nodded. “Ok Papa.”

  He sat back and closed his eyes. “Fi, did I ever talk to you about my friend Dr. Louis Bachman?” he asked with his eyes still closed.

  “Noooo, no I don’t think so Papa,” she said, trying to remember. He nodded and opened his eyes.

  “Of course,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t allowed to tell you.” He frowned. “Well, it turns out that he was more of a genius than I wished,” he said cryptically, his frown deepening.

  Fi’s heart jumped. “Are you ok Papa?” He was scaring her now. Was he in pain? Was his mind starting to wander? Maybe I should get the nurse, she fretted.

  “Yes, yes, Fi,” he assured her, trying to crack a smile. “I’m sorry, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to just listen to me and don’t try to make sense of it all yet, ok?” he asked. “It’s important that you realize that I’m not losing my mind.” She nodded.

  Mike took a deep breath and then began, “I met Louis Bachman when I began some classified work on a project called Diaspora about five years ago. You know, my ‘NASA’ project,” he said and she nodded. “Only I wasn’t really working directly with NASA this time like I have sometimes in the past. This time the project was set up under the Department of Defense, which I didn’t really understand at the time.” He sniffed lightly. “Dummy,” he mumbled.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “At first they basically told us that Diaspora was a ‘think-tank’ project putting scientists together with a wide variety of expertise to plan out a self-sufficient space colony to be set up on Mars.” Fi gasped and Mike nodded, “Yes, I was properly excited as well. NASA has been drafting long-term plans for the manned exploration and colonization of bodies within our solar system for a while, and Diaspora was really to be the culmination of that planning. At least, that was what they told us.”

  Mike stopped. “Listen honey,” he searched her face, “I know that you’re super-smart and have an amazing vocabulary, but if I say anything tonight that you don’t understand, please let me know. I want you to understand everything I’m going to tell you, ok?” She nodded again. It made sense so far.

  “So you and Dr. Bachman were part of a group of scientists who were helping to plan what you would have to do to live in space?” she asked.

  “Pretty much,” Mike nodded. “But there were things about Diaspora that were very special. Louis was an expert botanist and was there to consult about the feasibility and challenges of growing natural foods within the colony. Unlike many space missions, the plan was not to give people freeze-dried, pre-prepared foods for life. This was not meant to be a temporary installation. Diaspora had to be a place where the people could sustain themselves, could grow their own fruits and vegetables and raise their own food animals like fish.” His voice quickened a bit as he began describing it.

  “That is so cool Papa,” Fi breathed and Mike nodded.

  “I was so excited when we first began work on it,” he admitted. “Diaspora was such an ambitious idea. Not only creating a tiny little colony for a small number of people, all buttoned up and cold like a submarine. Diaspora was going to be like something from a movie…a big, warm, welcoming place where families would live and grow, children would go to school, where large open rooms existed for swimming and playing games, and where others existed with fields of grains, lettuce greens, and vegetables. Just like farms here on Earth. You see, if it were on Mars, Diaspora would be too far from Earth to be regularly supplied. We would have to come up with the means to make it self-sustaining.”

  Fi shook her head in amazement as the picture painted itself in her mind. Imagine it, just like the science-fiction stories she loved. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” she asked.

  His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Like I said,” he said. “Disapora was a classified project, a super-secret classified project. I’ve done work with NASA before that I couldn’t really talk about, but this was different.” His face grew serious and he narrowed his eyes. “I have never told another living soul about Diaspora before, not even your mother.”

  Fi sucked in her breath. He’d never even told Maggie this? Then why was he telling her? It made no sense. But Fi just nodded and listened like he’d asked.

  “You’re right that it was a pretty cool project,” he said. “Because we were always told this was a ‘paper project’ or a ‘think-tank’, those of us who were involved with it didn’t really think we were doing anything except kicking around ideas. Louis and I used to joke that we were all ‘Playing God’.” He paused for a second, smoothing the blankets over his legs with his frail hands. Tears welled in his eyes and his voice shook, “The problem is that we really were.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling in a gesture Fi understood was meant to help stop the tears.

  “Oh Papa.” Fi murmured as tears welled in her eyes. “What is it?”

  He grimaced and shifted toward her in the bed before asking, “I never made you watch the original Planet of the Apes movie, the one with Charlton Heston, did I?”

  “What?” Fi laughed a little, wiping away her tears in confusion. “What the heck are you talking about Papa?”

  He smiled. “Just a movie reference for you, that’s all,” he said and Fi smiled. Kellys loved movie references. “In the end of the movie Heston sees remnants of a destroyed New York City and realizes that he’s not on an alien planet, he’s on Earth and it’s just that the human beings had blown themselves and their world up with nuclear weapons…and now the apes had evolved to rule instead.” He smiled at Fi’s confused face. “In his agony at the realization, at the waste of all that humanity had to offer, he sinks to his knees and cries out, ‘You maniacs! You blew it up!’” He shook his head. “That scene is so painful because he realizes that we messed up…we messed up so terribly.”

  Fi saw his hands work, balling into fists and then releasing. He bit his lips. “Fi, I would give anything not to have to talk to you about what I do,” he said, almost to himself. “You’re only thirteen. This is way too much for you. I should be the one to save the family, but I can’t!” he said desperately, gesturing to the tubes and machines. “I can’t!” He gurgled and coughed, a dry, wheezing hack. Save the family??? She could feel her pulse quicken. What was he talking about? Though she was afraid, Fi hated to see him distressed and she grabbed his hand.

  “Shhhhhhh, Papa. It’s ok. Besides, I’m almost fourteen now,” she smiled.

  “You see,” he sighed. “That is why I knew I could talk to you. That odd combination of strength and kindness that you have,” he said quietly. “You’re going to need that more than ever.” He took a sip of his water and then took a deep breath. “Fi, I have to tell you about what is coming so that you can prepare.” His voice grew distant. “I will not be here to help you soon and it will be up to you to make sure that your mother and sister survive.”

  Her mind was a whirl of fear and confusion. Did he really just say ‘survive’? He said it with such calm, like it was just a fact. Fi shuddered. Unsure what lay ahead, both Mike and Fi paus
ed for a moment and enjoyed some silence, their hands touching while the monitors in the room beeped. With a greater sense of dread than she had ever known, Fi finally met his eyes.

  “Ok Papa,” she said. “Just tell me, I’m ready.”

  Playing God

  ----------- Fi -----------

  A portly nurse in scrubs with stars printed on them bustled into the room to check on Mike. He looked pointedly at Fi and she nodded. She understood that they needed to be careful. Mike asked the nurse for the cot and blankets for Fi. Normally, they wouldn’t have let Fi stay overnight, but she realized that they were making an exception because her father was dying. Her heart squeezed again and her throat and ears burned. It was weird, she thought, all the different ways and places that she felt the pain. It was all one pain, but it always snuck around inside of her, in search of a way out.

  After Luke, Fi had become accustomed to handling this pain. She’d learned how to stuff it back down, down her throat, down past her heart, down through the bottom of her stomach until it was so far inside that it disappeared. At least her sadness helped to mask her fear, she thought gratefully.

  She forced a smile in an effort to stay calm. “Papa, it seems like some of what you have to tell me about Diaspora is cool. So why don’t you tell me all the fun stuff before she comes back?” She nodded toward the door. “We’ll save the bad stuff for after the cot is set up.” Mike nodded with a relieved smile and launched into his tale. He shared all of the amazing stories of Diaspora that he’d always wanted to tell her. Fi ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the details and asked excited questions. When Mike spoke, his eyes lit up and Fi could see the man that had been her father inside the shell that was lying in the hospital bed. How could something so good as this project turn out to be bad, she wondered?

  Once the nurse came back and set up the cot and took away Mike’s food, they knew that they would have quite a while with each other without interruption. Fi got up and closed the door and turned.

  “Ok, now for the bad part,” she prompted. Mike reached into the small drawer in the table next to his bed and pulled out a worn leather-bound notebook. It was wrapped in both directions with large rubber bands. Haphazard corners of paper stuck out of all sides. He handed it to Fi.

  “Open it.”

  Fi took the book, her fingertips rubbing the cover. It was as soft as butter. This notebook had been opened and handled over and over again. She removed the rubber bands and set them on top of his blankets. She opened it and pulled out some of the loose sheets sitting on top. The first was a map of Canada and the northeastern United States. There were marks and scribbles and coordinates written along the edges. She unfolded the next sheet of paper. It was a note, scribbled either in a hurry, or by a person with terrible handwriting, or both. She saw Mike nod as she opened the letter.

  “Go ahead,” he urged. “Read it out loud.”

  Fi nodded and took a breath. “Mike, I can’t tell you how sorry I am to be writing you this letter, but I couldn’t simply disappear without leaving you with something to understand, something to hope for. The higher ups at Eden…” she stopped.

  “Eden?” she asked, confused. “I thought it was Diaspora?”

  “Eden is different,” he said. “Go ahead and finish the note.”

  She started again, “The higher ups at Eden have learned about the illness in your family.” Fi froze. What the hell was this? She cleared her throat and kept going. “They’ve removed your family from the list. I’m very sorry. Lizzie and I fought and fought for you. I even told them that I would leave if they didn’t let you in, but they told me that nothing would influence their decision. And something else has happened,” she continued to read. Her father’s eyes remained closed as she read, the eyelids twitching when she came to certain parts. “They’ve decided to seal Eden ahead of schedule. Right now I am packing and dashing off this letter as I leave. No matter what they say I couldn’t just leave you without any hope, not after all that you did for Diaspora, for me, and for humanity.”

  Fi paused. For humanity? She shook her head and continued, “I thought that if you could simply figure out where Eden was located and somehow make it there with your family, then they would have to let you in. No matter what we seem after all is said and done, none of us are intentionally cruel. These are the choices we’ve been forced to make. And so I hope that I will see you and get to meet your wonderful family someday. I know that you will do your utmost to get them here. Best, Louis.”

  Fi stopped. “Then there is a weird address with some numbers written under it, but that is different writing.” She held it out toward her father who nodded.

  “That letter was written six months ago Fi,” he said. “Now there isn’t much time left, I can feel it. I can tell from the news stories, but the government always knows more. Someone at Eden has a link to the government and must have decided to seal up sooner. They were supposed to wait until the end of this year.” His face twisted with anger and helplessness. “They were supposed to wait for us.” His lip trembled and he took a long shaky breath.

  Fi’s heart pounded. Her initial fears were quickly transforming into panic the more her father revealed. “Tell me what is going on Papa,” she breathed. “Is it really something that affects…everyone?”

  He nodded, his lips pressed together. “Yes Fi, it will affect everyone. It’s going to be the end of the world as we know it.”

  Fi felt her body go cold. A shaking began inside of her and her teeth start to chatter. She was losing control of herself, she knew. “Hold on,” she said as she jumped up and began to pace around the room, the notebook still gripped in her hand. Movement always helped her to control her emotions. She locked her jaw and took deep breaths through her nose, working to get her fear under control. With each deep breath she could feel herself force her heartbeat back down. Focus, she told herself. You can’t freak out.

  Once she was certain that the shakes were under control, she placed the notebook on the ground and sat back down.

  “Ok, let’s go,” she said. “Tell me the whole thing.”

  So again Mike began a monologue, only this time Fi did not speak up or interrupt in any way. Mike described how human beings had been altering their food for many purposes for quite a long time.

  “If you want to get technical,” he said, “We’ve been doing that since we started farming food instead of hunting and gathering it.” Fi nodded, this was information she knew and understood. “Even ancient farmers sometimes cross-bred strains of plants to get the outcome that they wanted. But we didn’t start creating truly designer hybrids on a commercial level until the mid-twentieth century. Regardless of whether tinkering with food is old or new, we didn’t stop to think in this past century at all, we just raced forward always assuming that food was food and that no matter what we did to it, it was safe.”

  He stopped as he was seized by a coughing fit. Fi waited and rubbed his hand. It killed her to see him in pain, but what choice did she have? All she could do was be calm and be there for him. When it was over, he took a deep breath and began again.

  “Ok, think of it this way,” Mike explained, “When you create a new human, you combine one-half of the chromosomes from each parent. But plants are different. In plants, crossing can result in double the number of chromosomes from the parents. That makes it a fundamentally different thing than the original plant. Or at least, that’s a logical possible conclusion.” Fi nodded in agreement. It made sense that something with twice as many chromosomes might not be the same as its parent.

  “Anyway,” he took a breath, “it just shows that crossing plants may lead to a different ‘baby’. Many new strains of wheat, for example, have been shown to have vastly different numbers and types of gluten proteins. Have you noticed how everyone has to eat ‘gluten free’ now?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, “That does seem weird, but I just thought it was like all the allergy stuff. I mean we also can’t bring a microscopic bit of peanut dust
to school or like, ten kids will swell up and die.” She rolled her eyes.

  He nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, like the allergy stuff. Now you’re onto it!” he said. “In the past, we didn’t have so many allergies and very few people used to have the ultra-severe allergies we see now. We also didn’t have as high a rate of Autism, of ADHD, of auto-immune disorders like MS and rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. The list goes on and on. We didn’t have so many fertility problems and miscarriages.” He paused for a second. “We didn’t have so many cancers,” his eyes slid away while Fi’s widened in growing understanding.

  “Oh Jesus Papa,” she gasped. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Papa, are you saying that our food is what is making people sick…is what made you sick…is what made Luke…” she choked and started to gag. “Oh God,” she said as she stood and gripped her chair. Her mind spun. They didn’t have to get sick and die. It was all just a mistake…a horrible, horrible mistake. Her stomach burned and she felt the bile rise in the back of her throat.

  “Fi, don’t,” Mike said, his hand reaching for her. He stammered, “I’m sorry, Fi, I’m so sorry.” Fi bent over her hospital chair as she retched, trying to catch her breath. Her hands squeezed the chair and after a few moments, her breathing calmed.

  “Ok,” she murmured. “Ok, ok.” She calmed herself. “I’m ok, Papa. I’m ok.” She flopped into her chair and put her head in her hands. “It’s almost a relief to have an answer,” she admitted. “I always felt like something was truly wrong, you know, with what happened to Luke.” Mike nodded in understanding. She continued, “But I assumed everyone feels that way I guess, so I ignored the feeling.” She shook her head. “And it’s not your fault Papa, you don’t have to apologize.”