Containment

by Christian Cantrell

  "Can you feel the pressure out there?"

  "Not at all. The suits completely counter it. They have a micro-skeletal system that automatically compensates for any pressure changes."

  "This is so much more interesting than the Life Pod."

  "Any day you want to trade jobs, just let me know. I'd be happy to sit back in a nice cool office and stare at a wall all day."

  Arik saw something on the floor and crouched down. There was a tiny mound of sulfur-yellow powder at his feet, perched along the thin metal of the grate.

  "So this is dirt," Arik said. He pinched the mound and rubbed it between his fingers. "This is actually the first time I've ever seen it."

  "If you like dirt, you're in the right place. Once a month we have to pull up these tiles and shovel it all out."

  Arik peered through the metal grate and could see a trail between the lockers and the airlock doors.

  "What do you do with it?"

  "Just throw it outside so it can get tracked back in."

  Arik was still crouched. He found another tiny mound of the fine powder, pinched it, and sprinkled it into his palm. He tilted his hand and watched it fall down through the grate.

  "Can I have some of it?"

  "You want some dirt?"

  "Yeah, why not?"

  "I'm not the one who shovels it out usually."

  "I mean right now. Can we pull up one of these tiles and scoop some out?"

  "Why in the world would you want some dirt? All this stuff does is stain clothes and clog up gears."

  "I just want to run some tests on it."

  Cam watched his friend for a moment, then smiled.

  "I know what you want to do," he said. "Cadie told me about the argument you had with what's-her-name during your orientation. You want to see if you can grow something in it."

  "It wasn't an argument," Arik said. "I know it's completely sterile. I just want to see what's in it."

  Cam looked out through the archway into the shop, then looked back at Arik.

  "Keep your box from lunch and we'll fill it up on the way out."

  "Thanks. I'll bring you a fern leaf or a petri dish in exchange."

  "I have no idea how my boss would react to this, so don't mention it to anyone."

  "Don't worry," Arik said. "I know exactly how my boss would react. No one will ever know."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Conception

  Even from outside the bedroom, Arik could tell that Cadie had just closed her workstation. Conductive polymeth was supposed to be completely silent, but Arik's ears could pick up the infinitesimal vibrations of the excited molecules entombed deep in the thick plastic. It resonated throughout the pod just above the threshold of perception, and he usually wasn't even aware that he was hearing it until it suddenly stopped. Cadie turned the wall lights out and slid down in bed, and now Arik could hear her trying to find a comfortable position for her unfamiliar body.

  He got up and stood in the doorway. Cadie was hugging a long latex foam pillow that went under her swollen belly and between her legs. She sensed him watching her and rolled over.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Before you came home tonight, I was working on something."

  "What?"

  "I'm not sure. But I think it was something important."

  "The error codes?"

  "They weren't error codes," Arik said. "I think it's a message."

  "From who?"

  Arik paused before he answered. He was still trying to make sense of it himself. "From me."

  "From you? What do you mean?"

  "I think I sent myself a message before the accident."

  "What does it mean?"

  "I don't know yet." He paused in a way that indicated that he wasn't finished, but didn't quite know how to go on. "But I think once I figure it out, everything is going to change. I think we need to talk about the baby."

  Cadie watched Arik for a moment in the dark, then pulled herself up and leaned against the headboard. She drew her legs up to make room on the bed, and Arik sat down. Neither of them reached for the light.

  They each waited for the other to start. Arik had constructed this conversation in his mind dozens of times since he'd returned home from the hospital, and he knew that there was no way to avoid asking Cadie one simple and direct question:

  "It isn't mine, is it?"

  "It's complicated."

  "It isn't complicated. We both know it isn't mine."

  Arik's eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he could see Cadie watching him carefully.

  "We need to talk about more than just the baby."

  "It's Cam's, isn't it?"

  "I need you to listen to me. I need to tell you something, and I need to start from the beginning."

  Arik could see that Cadie had rehearsed this. He understood his wife well enough to know that she would have to do this in her own way.

  "Ok."

  She took a moment to prepare herself. She looked down and watched her hands while she spoke.

  "We all thought you were going to die," she said. "Your father contacted me at the Life Pod, and told me to meet him here. When I got here, he said you'd been involved in a very serious accident, and that without surgical assistance from Earth, they didn't think you'd live."

  Arik had never even seen Cadie cry before — at least not as an adult. The way her features changed, and the way she moved her head to the side and her straight black hair fell beside her cheeks, made her look like an entirely different person. It suddenly occurred to Arik what an incredibly sheltered life they had all lived up until now. They had never lost a family member or a friend, and until Arik's accident, nobody they knew had ever been seriously injured. There weren't even any pets in V1 to run away, or to get old and die. Living in such a carefully controlled environment had a tempering effect designed to keep emotions as well balanced as the atmosphere.

  "The next day, Priyanka came to see me. He said there wasn't a lot of time, and that if we were going to save any part of you, we were going to have to act quickly. He said I had a responsibility to V1."

  "A responsibility to do what?"

  Cadie looked up. "To replace you."

  "Why would I need to be replaced?"

  "You have no idea who and what you really are, do you?"

  "What are you talking about, Cadie?"

  "I'm talking about your purpose," she said. "You were born to solve problems that no other human being can solve. All of us were."

  "Who's all of us?"

  "Gen V," Cadie said. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "Our parents were selected. Our genes were selected. We were taught math and biology and physics and computers and every other science practically since the day we were born. We knew the scientific method before we could even feed ourselves. Everything from the formula we were given to the amount and types of stimulation we got to the games we played were all designed to make us the best problem solvers the world had ever seen."

  "We were raised by engineers and scientists," Arik said. "Of course we were taught to solve problems. I doubt we were raised any differently from kids on Earth with parents like ours. In fact, kids on Earth have access to a lot more resources than we do. Their education is probably much better than ours."

  "Arik, think about it. V1 is an entirely isolated and controlled environment. Food, oxygen, stimulation, genetics, even lighting. Everything here is controlled. There are no distractions, and there are no options. Our housing is taken care of for us. Our meals are taken care of for us. Our careers were assigned to us. Even our marriages were practically arranged. Whether we like it or not, our lives are entirely dedicated to nothing but scientific advancement."

  Arik knew everything Cadie was saying was true, but he had never thought of his upbringing as being in any way malicious or exploitive. It was no secret that they were being groomed to inherit V1 — to help improve and expand the colony — but Arik had always thought of this expectation as a privilege.
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  "What do they want us to do?"

  "Expand, of course," Cadie said. "Colonize the rest of Venus, then the rest of the solar system, then other solar systems, and eventually other galaxies."

  "That's not even possible," Arik blurted out. "You're not making any sense."

  "It all makes perfect sense. The human race has already learned how dangerous it is have our entire population on a single planet. It's far too vulnerable. If we don't destroy ourselves, we'll eventually be destroyed by a comet or an asteroid, or some sort of solar prominence, or a nearby gamma ray burst, or a pandemic. There are an infinite number of scenarios that could lead to human extinction. Everyone agrees it's not a question of if — it's a question of when. The GSA has one single directive: preserve the human race by promoting self-sustaining colonies throughout the solar system, galaxy, and the universe. And they can't do that without us."

  "Cadie, you're talking about technology that's hundreds or even thousands of years away, if it's even possible at all. It's completely unrealistic. We've barely left Earth, and we're already struggling."

  "It's not technology that limits us. We're the limitation. Our technology is an expression of our intelligence and creativity, so the limitations of our technology are a reflection of our own limitations. We can't fundamentally advance technology until we fundamentally advance ourselves. That's what Gen V is all about."

  "But the whole point of technology is to push us beyond our own limitations and capabilities. That's why we have computers that can perform calculations quadrillions of times faster than the human brain."

  "Arik, you know as well as anyone that computers are capable of far more than even the most complex tasks we give them. Computers aren't limited by hardware. They're limited by the software that humans write. That's why you're so important. I don't think you realize this, but you're considered one of the best computer scientists in history. At your age, you're already far beyond Fai, and nobody here or on Earth can use a BCI like you. You have the potential to solve problems that nobody else has even dreamed of solving — that nobody else can even conceptualize. V1 needs you more than you realize. The GSA needs you. When Kelley talks about the Pinnacle of Human Achievement, he's mostly talking about you, Arik."

  Arik watched her for a moment in the dark. "Priyanka told you all this?"

  Cadie nodded. Arik looked down at the bed. He could feel his reality shifting as he began to grasp what Cadie was telling him. Everything she said made sense. In fact, on some level, he felt like he already knew most of it. If the Founders had tried to conceal their plans for Gen V, they had concealed them in plain sight. To see them, you only had to look at the big picture, to broaden your perspective, to stop looking at time in terms of weeks, months, or years, and to start thinking in terms of generations. To really understand your own place in history, you needed to be able to see yourself in the past tense.

  Arik felt like he should be angry, but the clarity he was starting to experience felt positive and somehow empowering. He was starting to feel focused, and to realize a new and tangible sense of purpose. But there was still more to understand.

  "Tell me about the baby."

  Cadie took a deep breath and continued. "Priyanka brought me a DNA sample. He said if we could recover some part of you, nothing would have been lost but time. Arik, you have to understand that I didn't do it for him, or for V1, or for the GSA. I did it for me. You're all I have. If you died, I'd be completely alone for the rest of my life. Can you understand that?"

  "But what did you do, Cadie?"

  "I created our baby."

  Arik stared at her across the bed. He was shaking his head. "What are you saying?"

  "I used an infection," Cadie said. "A virus. I used your DNA to create our baby."

  "How?"

  "Listen," Cadie said. Arik could see that she was changing roles and starting to talk to him now as a biologist rather than his wife. She leaned toward him. "Most people think of viruses as parasites, but they aren't parasites at all. An organism has to be considered alive to be classified as a parasite. Viruses don't do any of things living organisms do. They don't grow, they can't move on their own, and they don't metabolize. They don't even have cells. But the one thing a virus is very good at is reproducing. When it finds a suitable host cell, it attaches itself and injects its DNA through the cell's plasma wall. The virus's genes are transcribed into the host cell's DNA, and the host cell's genetic code is rewritten. Whatever its job was before, its new job is to do nothing but produce copies of the original virus, usually until it's created so many that the cell bursts open and spreads the infection."

  "What does this have to do with the baby?"

  "Everything," Cadie said. "Because the thing about viruses is that they're easily manipulated. The DNA they inject doesn't have to be destructive. It can be replaced with almost any kind of DNA you want, and it can be programmed to only replace certain parts of the host's genetic code. In other words, viruses are perfect vectors for genetic engineering."

  Arik could see where she was going. "But you'd have to have an embryo first, wouldn't you?"

  "Not an embryo," Cadie said. "By that time, it's too late. You need a zygote. A zygote gets half of its genetic material from the mother, and the other half from the father. Before the zygote becomes an embryo, you have a short window of time in which you can make genetic modifications. And the best way to make those modifications is to let a genetically engineered virus make them for you. Do you understand?"

  Arik nodded. He was following what Cadie was telling him, but still not entirely comprehending the implications.

  "Arik," Cadie said, "the baby started out as Cam's, but it's as much yours now as if we conceived it ourselves."

  She waited for Arik's reaction, but he was completely still. He didn't know what to feel. It occurred to him that human emotion had not evolved quickly enough to keep up with what mankind's scientific capabilities demand of it. Sometimes the tiny components that make up an experience just didn't fit in to existing emotional receptors, and the result was simply numbness.

  "Arik," Cadie said, "the baby is yours. It's ours."

  "Did you test the DNA Priyanka gave you?"

  "No, because I didn't use it," Cadie said. "I used your DNA from ODSTAR instead. It was the only way I could be sure it was yours. I had to destroy the project, but it worked. She's a perfectly healthy baby girl. She's our baby girl."

  Cadie's tearful smile was all Arik needed to tell him how to feel. For the first time, he reached out and touched his child. Cadie took his fingers away, pulled up her gown, and held his hand firmly against her flesh.

  Arik looked up from Cadie's belly. "She's going to have that image of Earth inside her forever. Blue Marble. Like a genetic tattoo."

  "I know," Cadie said. "I think it's beautiful. Wherever she ends up, whatever ends up happening to her, she'll always have something inside of her that no one can take away."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Outside

  Arik looked into his own eyes in his workspace and began recording.

  "Connect to me as soon as you can," he said to himself. He had just verified the results of the tests he ran on the last soil sample Cam brought him. "I'll be here all day. And make sure you're alone."

  Arik added the message to Cam's queue. Cam usually only opened his workspace a few times a day, so Arik wanted to get the message out to him as early as possible.

  Cam responded sooner than Arik expected. Arik had just laser sealed several chloroplast cultures inside of borosilicate tubes and was about to go leave them in the dome when he heard the incoming connection request. He touched the wall and accepted the video stream.

  "That was fast."

  "What are you doing leaving me messages so early?" Cam said. "Don't you sleep?"

  "I have to get in early to work on my side projects," Arik said. He noticed movement behind Cam. "You're not alone."

  "You know what this place is like. There's no such thing
as privacy here. No one can hear you, though." He tapped his ear indicating that he was using audio drops. The Infrastructure Department preferred audio drops to mechanical transmitters and receivers since the drops freed them from having to worry about additional power supplies and maintenance. One or two drops allowed you to receive and transmit wireless audio for between three and six hours, depending on the size of your eustachian tubes. The nanotubes in audio drops weren't sophisticated enough to encrypt or decrypt signals, however, which meant that technically, their conversation still wasn't secure. But the chances of someone listening in at just the right time on just the right frequency were negligible.

  "I'll do all the talking, then," Arik said. "It turns out Venusian dirt isn't as sterile as I expected. Every sample you've given me so far contained organic molecules."

  "Organic molecules?" Cam repeated. "You mean life?"

  "No, not organic in that sense. I mean the building blocks of life. Carbon-based compounds. There's definitely nothing alive in the soil, but that doesn't mean it can't be made to support life. Or, more accurately, that life and the soil couldn't be made to support each other."

  "That's good news, right? That's what you were hoping for?"

  "That's significantly more than I was hoping for, though I still don't have any concrete results."

  "What's stopping you?"

  "Actually, that's what I need to talk to you about. I need more dirt."

  Cam looked around him, then leaned in close to the polymeth. "Arik, I don't think I can get you any more."

  "Why?"

  "I can't explain now. Can you meet me tonight?"

  "What time?"

  "I'll let you know later."

  "Is everything ok? Did I get you in trouble?"

  "We'll talk tonight," Cam said. "I have to go."

  Before Arik could respond, the video stream dropped.

  That afternoon, Cam sent Arik a text message: "2100. The dock."

  Arik sent Cam a confirmation, and let Cadie know that he'd be working late.