Genosimulation (A Teen & Young Adult Science Fiction): A Young Adult Science Fiction Thriller

by L. L. Fine

  Now I’m just going to “send”. Here.

  08/01/01 MSN chat

  Flaming sword: I've set up an email for you.

  Looking for a challenge: Hmmm ...is this who I think it is?

  Flaming sword: Zomy, yes. You’re getting used to me.

  Looking for a challenge: It’s difficult to get used to when you're like this all the time. Everything all right?

  Flaming sword: No, but continue.

  Looking for a challenge: Cool nick you chose. In general, your monikers are becoming quite symbolic.

  Flaming sword: You know where it’s from?

  Looking for a challenge: A flaming sword flashing back and forth. I always liked that.

  Flaming sword: And you know what that means?

  Looking for a challenge: Enlighten me.

  Flaming sword: There are several interpretations. The most common is the interpretation of hell.

  Looking for a challenge: This flaming sword is a synonym for hell?

  Flaming sword: Yep.

  Flaming sword: A hell could be villains turning like meat on a spit.

  Looking for a challenge: All that for you to gain entrance to Heaven?

  Flaming sword: Which means that in order to enter Heaven you have to go through hell.

  Looking for a challenge: Is it worth it?

  Flaming sword: When I get there I'll tell you.

  Looking for a challenge: If you reach it.

  Flaming sword: I'm sure I'll get to hell, I'm already there ... I wonder if I'll stay here or go on?

  Looking for a challenge: Don’t let a little liquid fire stop you.

  Flaming sword: There is another interpretation.

  Looking for a challenge: What is it?

  Flaming sword: That the heat of the sword is a passion, something you see - but it’s just an illusion.

  Flaming sword: That is, there is no real barrier to the entrance to Heaven, only the illusion of a flaming sword.

  Looking for a challenge: I think it's just a biblical description of the Jedi knights’ light saber.

  Flaming sword: LOL

  Flaming sword: May the Swartz be with you.

  Looking for a challenge: That's Mel Brooks, isn't it?

  Flaming sword: Spaceballs, and I think I’ve made my point.

  Looking for a challenge: Indeed. I've realized that I'd rather be liked by you than upset you.

  Flaming sword: to upset is one thing and… you know what is another thing.

  Looking for a challenge: Was it that bad?

  Flaming sword: You have no idea. It wasn’t a virus, you know. It was a successful attempt to infiltrate the system, by some intelligence agency or something.

  Looking for a challenge: What were they able to take from you?

  Flaming sword: It's worse than that - we don’t know.

  Flaming sword: It’s clear they’d been in place a long time. But what were they really able to get out? I want to believe we managed to kill it straight away.

  Looking for a challenge: Want to believe?

  Flaming sword: But our preparation for the attack left us vulnerable as a newborn.

  Flaming sword: Completely exposed.

  Looking for a challenge: Do you suspect anyone?

  Flaming sword: We suspect everyone. Don’t know who…

  Looking for a challenge: The Americans?

  Flaming sword: I’d be surprised. They have methods and I follow them all the time and know what they’re developing.

  Flaming sword: Not American.

  Flaming sword: This technology is something I’ve never seen.

  Flaming sword: Pretty ingenious, to tell the truth.

  Flaming sword: Very ingenious.

  Flaming sword: Perhaps Russian, perhaps Indian. I don’t know.

  Flaming sword: Anyway, it's behind us.

  Flaming sword: I took a risk sending you an email.

  Looking for a challenge: How can we write to each other then?

  Flaming sword: Oh, you don’t need to put yourself out. Take a look at your desktop.

  Looking for a challenge: ???

  Looking for a challenge: ????????????? What's this????

  Flaming sword: This algorithm randomly sends an email to the mail server network. All you need is to write a text document and drag it there, and it’ll send it somewhere and I will know.

  Flaming sword: Now, if someone illegally tries to open the algorithm it’ll destroy itself, and I warn you, it’ll send electrical pulses to the screen and disc, so there’s a chance that the screen will explode in their face and burn out their discs.

  Looking for a challenge: You know to keep yourself safe. What can I say?

  Flaming sword: I was burned once.

  Looking for a challenge: So, what next? For the book?

  Flaming sword: The truth is there's not much to update. I’ve been busy rebuilding the ruins.

  Looking for a challenge: By the way, I realized what software you use and erased it.

  Flaming sword: Yes, I noticed. Don’t worry, I reinstalled it.

  Looking for a challenge: What!?!?!?

  Looking for a challenge: I don’t believe it.

  Looking for a challenge: I'll erase it again.

  Flaming sword: And I'll install it again. Anyway, this is no longer the only software that works like this, so you may as well leave it alone.

  Looking for a challenge: I despair of you.

  Looking for a challenge: How lucky that in 400 years you won't reproduce anymore.

  Flaming sword: You too.

  Looking for a challenge: Nor Omri Sharon - this is definitely an achievement.

  Flaming sword: Nothing positive in it.

  Looking for a challenge: I'm being sarcastic, leave me alone, ok?

  Flaming sword: There are those who are sarcastic, and those who try to do something.

  Looking for a challenge: Ohhhhhhh…

  Looking for a challenge: What do I hear now?

  Flaming sword: I'll tell you when I have something to say. Meanwhile, have a nice day, and enjoy our book content.

  Flaming sword: I put in a lot of time on it!

  Flaming sword: Bye.

  Looking for a challenge: Bye from me.

  Looking for a challenge: Good luck!

  *

  "Don’t do this to me again."

  Since the attack on the Institute they couldn't find a moment to themselves. Zomy's days became a thick swirl of lines of code, computer monitors, frustration and anger. Lia, for her part, 'won' a forced vacation, while her tools unavailable to her, along with the practical means to advance her (official and unofficial) research lines.

  During these weeks she tried to appeal to Zomy several times, but his face was desperate too, his eyes bloodshot with the burden of long working hours. They saw each other, occasionally, at mealtimes but then it was with too many people around and too few minutes.

  And now, finally, they were alone.

  Again, in the grass. Zomy left her message, earlier, about his desire to breathe fresh air. She thought it was more than just a simple statement, and initially sought him out in the medical warehouse, among the oxygen tanks.

  The second option was real fresh air - and so she went upstairs, elegantly rejecting the offer of company from two Institute redneck assholes. After a short walk in the grass, she found him sitting against a palm tree, listening to something on his headphones, breathing freely, oxygen mask dangling from his neck. She touched his face.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Better. I'm glad you came."

  She sat down heavily beside him, sighing.

  "Breathing, this is an invitation always I'll gladly accept. I don't like air conditioners."

  "I actually feel like I ran a marathon. But yes, it's worth it."

  "You need to decrease the workload on your lungs. They won’t recover so quickly. Put your mask on."

  "Decreasing the load? Am I?" He tried to laugh, but it deteriorated to a dry cough. His
face went a purplish color, and finally he returned the mask to his face.

  "Zomy ... promise me you won’t do this to me again."

  "What, meet with you here and cough?"

  "No. Attempt suicide."

  He knew, of course, what she was talking about. They told him everything. Told what happened in the hours after his assault on the computer room. They told him that he became almost completely gray, the result of a severe shortage of oxygen. They told him he almost died - his heart went into atrial fibrillation, or something similar, then stopped working.

  They told him how Lia ran to the computer room, dragging his oxygen tank. And how she connected him up, and performed CPR on him for several minutes. And how she did not give up, never stopped for a moment, until he started to breathe spontaneously.

  She was able to stabilize his condition, but feared brain damage.

  Saul Keshny came to visit him later. He expressed his (reluctant) delight that Zomy was still alive, and rather more hearty joy over his actions to thwart the break-in.

  Surprisingly, Zomy identified with this approach - but was angry at Keshny who dared to direct a blaming finger at him.

  "You didn’t foresee this threat," he snapped, "and that was precisely your job. You know why - because you're just not concentrating on work. You've lost it.”

  This was an unexpected slap in the face. Insulting and infuriating.

  And he was angry because his performance was - in his opinion - flawless. And he was offended that Keshny was cold and lacking in sympathy – not a trace of gratitude or appreciation.

  And he was even more angry, because he knew Keshny was right.

  Yes, he was right! Zomy knew he was right. He fell from being the genius who developed the most amazing computer system ever, to - 'normal'. One person, just one person. Like everyone else. An ordinary man, who has a tiny affair on the side, who thinks of himself, who is afraid to die. One person.

  Keshny was right, and that was the end of the matter.

  But his rightness was so infuriating. Keshny, that cheap administrative creature, who couldn’t even see as far as his feet. What right had he to be so - right? Who gave him the authority to criticize?

  And his “private” studies were so groundbreaking! On an entirely different level, higher, more innovative, more daring, from anything known in his field. He deserved a Nobel Prize! But Keshny, the officious rule-maker, could not see it. He was not allowed to see it.

  He looked again at Lia, trying not to betray his train of thought.

  "I'm not trying to commit suicide on purpose, you know. It was an accident."

  "I’ve already told you, chance has its own rules."

  "I live in interesting times."

  "Do not swear in Chinese."

  They looked at each other - and suddenly burst out laughing. Releasing, healthy merriment. Their first laugh, for many days. They roared with laughter, bursting, without even knowing what the joke was. Zomy coughed and sucked in oxygen and coughed again, which only increased the laughter. And suddenly the world seemed a little brighter.

  "I needed that," he said when they finished.

  "Me too."

  "So you’ve picked up... continuing the tests?"

  "I didn't have so much to do. You know ..."

  "Obviously. But in a bit we can go back to normal."

  "Zomy ... it won't be normal anymore."

  Her face became pensive, almost sad. He raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm pregnant."

  08/05/01 NANA Chat

  Looking for a challenge: Yours??????

  Zomy 17: That's what she said.

  Looking for a challenge: And ... how do you feel about it?

  Zomy 17: It's not that I have much choice, you know.

  Looking for a challenge: Well, you know what I mean.

  Zomy 17: I think I can accept it. Yes.

  Looking for a challenge: Children are ... what can I say? They’re happiness at levels you can't understand.

  Zomy 17: It's not that I had a lot of happiness in life, you know.

  Looking for a challenge: And yet.

  Zomy 17: How many children do you have?

  Looking for a challenge: One. Charming.

  Zomy 17: Planning more?

  Looking for a challenge: When it happens it happens. I won’t say no.

  Zomy 17: It complicates things, a pregnancy.

  Looking for a challenge: Pregnancy always complicates matters. But looking back, it makes things sharper, clearer. Forcing decisions, in my opinion. Whether there should be an abortion, or to leave it as it is. Decisions that have to be correct.

  Zomy 17: But here, at the Institute? With all these people knowing about it?

  Looking for a challenge: If you have a love story, I see no reason to hide it.

  Zomy 17: And what kind of parents will this child have?

  Zomy 17: One handicapped former Haredi, and one who is uncertain about it all. With such unusual work, we’re not parent material.

  Looking for a challenge: I wasn’t built to be a father until I became a father. You’ll be wonderful parents. Am I invited to the wedding?

  *

  "And I'm not sure I want to marry at all," she added.

  Zomy was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Pregnancy! He did not expect it at all. Of all things, he did not foresee this twist in reality. And it explained everything, then! Pregnancy ... what do we do about it?

  "I agree that a wedding is problematic. My family will not let a non-Haredi into the family business.”

  He tried to keep it light, nonchalant, but his face broke into thousands of different feelings, some of them contradictory. Children? Wedding? Him? He did not know what would happen to him tomorrow! Not to mention his chaotic bachelor apartment, the fact that he actually did not visit it because he lived at work, the secrecy that destroyed any chance of happiness worthy of the name, the fact that a soft little baby would be a responsibility ...

  Or would it? After all, she could decide to raise him alone, without the father's participation. Would that be better? No, he decided. It would be much worse.

  "Maybe I'll go it alone as a single mother," she answered his thoughts, without a trace of a smile.

  "Over my dead body," he said. "This is my child as well."

  She just looked at him.

  "Oh. You don’t want me in the picture," he said dryly.

  "It's not that," she sighed. "You see, if there was anyone in the world I’d want in the picture, it's you. But ..."

  *

  Zomy 17: But how could anyone marry me?

  Zomy 17: And don’t forget, this is someone who knows all my genetic history, my future. It’d be fraught with problems to bring up a child with me.

  Looking for a challenge: But she’s considering it???

  Zomy 17: It's a shared problem. Personally, I see little point in bringing children into the world.

  Zomy 17: You probably understand why.

  Looking for a challenge: Sure, the reason’s clear.

  Looking for a challenge: And that is: that you are an idiot and a moron and screwed up and stupid. That's why. A piece of crap, you’re setting yourself up for it, and you were right. You're garbage.

  Zomy 17: ???

  Looking for a challenge: Stop playing God and live your life!!!

  Zomy 17: What kind of life, when there's no future?

  Looking for a challenge: You say that? You?

  Zomy 17: Oh, come on. I'm not just a number 17.

  Looking for a challenge: And I'm sure I'm the same.

  Zomy 17: My son will be 16.

  Zomy 17: After him 15.

  Zomy 17: Soon it’ll all be over.

  Zomy 17: How could I look at him knowing that his life’s all accounted for?

  Looking for a challenge: His life or humanity's?

  Zomy 17: Both. It goes together. My cancer will pass to him.

  Looking for a challenge: And you solved it for you!!!


  Zomy 17: But at what price, goddammit? What price?

  Zomy 17: And it’s clear that I won’t infect him with the fucking virus that destroyed my lungs!

  Zomy 17: I'm not going to raise my son to be sacrificed.

  *

  "What about an abortion?"

  Lia did not answer him. She just took his hand and gently placed it on her stomach. Zomy felt her gently. She was slightly larger than he remembered. Only slightly.

  "You feel it?" she asked.

  He spread his fingers, trying to feel something beyond the skin soft. Stroked her lower belly, increasing his concentration in his fingers, trying to feel any trembling of the fetus.

  "I think so. At least, I like to think I feel it."

  "It’s the size of a small nut just now."

  "Cute."

  They were silent for another few minutes, listening to the breeze blow over the grass and the leaves rustling. Zomy stroked Lia's stomach again and again, and she guided him slowly with her hands.

  "What kind of world am I bringing him into, Zomy?" she asked finally.

  *

  Looking for a challenge: You can't know!

  Zomy 17: But I do know, that's the problem.

  Looking for a challenge: No, you don’t know. You can only guess. It’s true you have a better guess than most people, but you can still only guess.

  Zomy 17: I wish I felt that way.

  Looking for a challenge: Listen.

  Looking for a challenge: Dear Friend.

  Looking for a challenge: You just think too much.

  Looking for a challenge: The world’s not there to be thought about but to be lived.

  Zomy 17: Maybe you're right, maybe I think too much.

  Zomy 17: But I can’t do anything about being what I am… and knowing what I know.

  Looking for a challenge: Correction: you only think you know.

  Looking for a challenge: Don't dare to presume to be God.

  Zomy 17: I don’t think of myself like that. But ... I have the tools to.

  Looking for a challenge: You have to know a little more than tools. Much more.

  Looking for a challenge. But you still don't know it all, Zomy.