Kim sat very still in his wheelchair as they talked. His hands clenched the armrests tightly until his knuckles turned pale. He desperately needed to make these good people comprehend their danger, and quickly—but how best to explain? He waited with impatience while they spoke. Kim couldn’t understand what was happening—too many strange words were being spoken by the islanders. However, he grasped its weighty implication and that it had something to do with the young woman who’d been so kind to him. Out of respect for Dot, Kim held his tongue until they’d bowed their heads. Sensing that the formality had finished, Kim seized his opportunity.
“Forgive me, please. You’ve all been very kind to me, I am so grateful.” Kim paused and drew a shallow breath, his broken ribs made it hard to speak more than a few words at a time. “I must warn you that while I am here—chipped or unchipped—you are all in very grave danger. Please to understand, you do not have any time to waste.”
The kettle whistled and Doc walked over to his cabinet. “Marta, take a few of these mugs, will you? Thanks.” He brought the pot and cups over to the table and set them in the center. “Dot—will reach behind you and grab the honey from the counter?” He walked back to his seat and pushed the leather case across the tabletop. “Mr. Chen, what can you tell me about these slides of yours?”
Kim gasped at seeing the now-opened briefcase. “How did this get unlocked? Who has been… Who’s seen this?”
“I opened it. Nobody else has looked through it, so just relax.” Doc poured a spoonful of honey into his cup and stirred the tea. His spoon clinked against the sides as he continued. “Now, I’m just a back-country doctor and all, but I do happen to know a thing or two about genetic coding. It looks as if your tray of slides might have something to do with that sort of thing. So please, enlighten us.”
10 CRISPR
Haida Gwaii. Jul 12. 2033
54°02'26.0"N 132°10'33.8"W
Kim cleared his throat. “May I see my case please?” Russell placed the bag on Kim’s lap and the entire ensemble watched the scientist rummage through his briefcase, muttering in Mandarin as he inventoried its contents. The ticking from a grandfather clock in the den was the only other sound in the house. Eventually, Kim laid the satchel back on the table and looked all around him. “I will try and explain what you ask of me—but you should shut your windows and door first.” He pointed toward the front door where Natsa Ted sat in Doc’s rocking chair, sipping homemade ahlgaháal.
“Right—good point,” Marta said. She walked out to the front porch and spoke a few words to Natsa Ted. He stumbled off the steps and she returned, shutting the door behind her. Doc helped close the windows and, once finished, they both sat back down. “Everything’s closed up now,” Marta said, “we’re all ears, but don’t drag this out Mr. Chen, it’s going to get stuffy in here soon enough.”
With a sigh, Kim nodded and began to speak. “I am—or, rather I was, a scientist at a high-security biotech laboratory. My special area of research concerns genome editing.” Kim noticed the confused look on several of the faces in his audience and back-tracked, “That is, I work with certain enzymes that repattern DNA by attaching them to a virus and introducing them into a host. Scientists have been doing this for years on insects, animals and non-viable embryos, but a little over a decade ago, we began to target certain human genetic traits. The engineered CRISPR enzyme—the ‘CAS-9,’ corrects specific DNA pertaining to…”
“Uh, hold on a sec’ will ya, science-guy? You’re going to have to dumb this waay down. I think I can speak for my pals here, when I say that you lost us all at the whole ‘genome’ thing.”
“Ah, pardon me, Ooligan, I apologize for the…” He looked at Dot and asked, “May I please have a glass of water? Forgive me, this is the most I have spoken in several weeks, and my English is not coming to me as quickly as it usually does.”
Doc interjected, “Mr. Chen, let me paraphrase for you, if you’ll allow. I think I can sum it up for these folks enough so that you can continue from there—do you mind?”
“Oh yes, by all means. Thank you.” Kim accepted the glass of water from Dot and drank it down in several long gulps.
“Alright, I believe what Kim’s saying here is that he’s basically ‘redesigning’ certain genetic codes—or traits, like the information that gives us brown eyes or makes our noses flat or long.”
“Well, what makes that such a big secret?” Pasha asked.
“The problem is, I don’t think that human genome engineering has, uh… exactly been ‘sanctioned’ by the scientific community,” Doc replied.
Adili stirred in his chair. “Perhaps we should agree that Mr. Chen’s information is above our understanding for the moment and move on to the subject of why we are in danger from having it in our possession—yes?”
“Hear, hear!” Ooligan slapped the tabletop.
Kim handed the glass back to Dot and she rose to refill it. He reached into his case and brought out the slides. “What has just been explained is quite accurate. Modifications on human germlines have been, well… actually are, restricted.” He gave a twisted smile and continued, “So, now of course, you see why this was a high-security laboratory.”
“So, you are criminal then?” Pasha asked. “Why do we need to help you—why are we in such danger with this enzyme? Is it, chto za slovo—catching?”
“He means, ‘Is it contagious?” said Adili.
“Da—that, Conta-jee-us.”
Doc leaned forward to explain, “Not in the same way that a cold is contagious, Pasha. But the problem with recoding human genetics is that it becomes hereditary, meaning it would be passed on to the next generation. For example, let’s say your DNA was changed to… give you red hair? Well, you’d pass that red-haired trait onto any children you might father. See?”
“Ha! No gingers for this Russkiy.”
“I still don’t get why this is all so dangerous,” Táan grumbled. “Let’s get to the point so we can make a decision.”
Kim coughed and reached for his glass. He took a long sip and then said, “First point: I am not a ‘bad guy.’ My research has already proven that cancer cells can be modified—replaced with normal cells, specifically in human lungs.” Kim paused to allow his own lungs a few seconds to fill. “I’ve sped up a form of this enzyme which will replicate faster—much faster. Additionally, I created a unique aerosol delivery system so that the virus could be absorbed through inhalation. A rapid transmission method with no invasive procedure. In a sense, overtaking the malignant cells and recoding them before they could reproduce. This is good, but yes, it’s not exactly legitimate… technically speaking.”
“So, what you’re saying is, ‘the ends justify the means’?” Kai muttered.
“Yes, in this case.” Kim tapped his case of slides and continued. “I’d just produced my first fast-acting enzyme and finalized the aerosol delivery system. In fact, I was even considering publishing my accomplishment—I was so—so close!” He pounded his fist on the armrest and winced at the resulting pain.
“What happened with your research?” Doc asked.
Kim shifted his weight in the wheelchair and sighed. “I found evidence that it had been mutilated—in our own lab. Another scientist was stealing my results. Someone who I thought was my friend.” Kim replied, grim faced.
Doc scratched his jawline. “I think I am beginning to understand our troubles.”
“Well, hip—hip hurray for you, brownie points for all of the geeks in the room! Now, how about clearing it up for the rest of us?” Ooligan said. “My ass hurts from all this sitting. Move the conversation along or somebody get me a pillow.”
Kim drew a breath and continued, “I found certain hard copy and video files that… well, that I ‘ve ‘appropriated’ and which are in my possession right now. These files prove that my former employer: Huang Biotechnologies, is working with the HighTower Agency to weaponize my enzyme. That is to say, they intended to take wha
t would save many lives and convert it into something that could wipe out entire populations.”
Kai pushed his chair away from the table. “So, HSA’s planning to manufacture some sort of spray that can clean out a whole… country?” Kai asked. “Holy shit.”
“Yes, precisely—very much holy shit.” Kim replied. “It would be a government sponsored genocide. The evidence I carry in that leather bag exposes that the project they named ‘Revelations’ could be delivered as an aerosol to numerous regions—where refugee populations are largest. Hundreds of thousands of people could unknowingly inhale an enzyme that would rapidly liquefy lung cells—essentially drowning in their own fluid. I’d estimate that tens of thousands would be dead within two weeks.”
“But why—why do this?” Marta asked.
Kim laughed. “Why not do this? The HSA is likely paying millions of dollars to Huang Biotech to develop this. And what’s worse is that once the premise has been fully developed, almost any genetic code is possible. Consider this: An enzyme that would recode all your red blood cells into hemophilia cells—no clotting agents. You’d scratch your finger and bleed to death within hours.”
Táan rested his elbows on the table. He lowered his head into his hands and brushed his long bangs away from his eyes. “Pest control. They want to exterminate the pests.”
Adili spoke very quietly, “The people from my continent will be their targets.”
Kim added, “True, it’s very likely that many in Africa would be their targets—at least in the beginning.”
Pasha gave a low whistle and said, “Uzhasnyy. This is something to expect from Russia’s government. This is horrible—like nuclear bomb, but no one knows who fires the missiles.”
“Yes, exactly! That’s why HighTower wants this technology so badly. They can eliminate these refugees effectively and permanently, because anyone who might somehow survive, would then pass the mutation to their offspring.” Kim paused to shift his weight, adding, “I think the Nazis would be jealous, it is their ‘final solution,’ only so much easier, because it’s undetectable until it’s too late. The cause would be nearly impossible to trace and the results would be irreversible.”
Ooligan slumped in her chair. “God damn.”
Doc set his cup down, “You say that they ‘intended’ to do this—does that mean you’ve managed to destroy their weaponized results somehow?”
Kim shook his head, “I couldn’t destroy everything. I have all of the data and I have these….” He picked up the tray of slides and slid it towards Doc. “I am positive that their private air-gapped system was destroyed in the fire I set, but there would be another one—a back-up, somewhere else in Huang’s building.”
“How in the hell have you managed to live this long?” Ooligan asked. “Because frankly, I’m amazed you’re not sitting in some HighTower cell in Beirut right now with electrodes clipped to your balls.”
Kai nudged Ooligan and she waved her hand. “Sorry—didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”
“Before I left Hong Kong, I was able to add another layer of encryptions into all of my files—a portion of the code requires several biometric identifiers. You might say that I’ve locked it up tight, and they’ll need me, or at least certain parts of me, to unlock it. I doubt they can decipher it for several weeks or even months. But I can’t be too sure.”
The room was silent. Marta stood and looked at Russell. “They’ll need to know this. What do you want us to do?”
Russell shook his head and sighed heavily. “Adili, you and Marta are the only code speakers we have on hand at present, you’d better let the Greenwood know what’s landed on our doorstep. Get back to us as quickly as you can.”
Adili rose from his chair and followed Marta out the front door. Dot searched the faces of those who remained at the table. Code speakers? She saw no trace of uncertainty on anyone’s face, except for Kim Chen’s, but Kim’s expression was more of sadness than anything else. Dot folded her hands in her lap and waited for someone to explain to her what had just occurred. Ooligan and Kai moved toward the doorway and spoke in hushed voices. Táan and Russell pushed their chairs away from the table and huddled nearby in animated conversation with Doc. Pasha sat rigid in his chair, sipping his tea and glaring at the scientist.
Kim let his head fall back against the wheelchair’s seat and stared at the ceiling. Placing her hand on his arm, Dot offered him an encouraging smile. He turned his face toward her and said, “They will be coming for me very soon, Dot. You should have left me on those rocks.”
11 A Surprise Party
Old Massett. Haida Gwaii. Jul 14.2033
54°01'52.6"N 132°10'05.4"W
Dot sat on the old rope swing that Chanáa had made for her years ago. She dug her toe into the soil and twisted the swing in circles. It wound tighter as she anchored herself with one foot. She lifted her toe, allowing the rope to unwind, then leaned back to watch the branches blur into a crisscross of patterns as she gained momentum. As the swing slowed to a stop, Dot closed her eyes and let the dizziness settle. She placed her toe back in the hollow of dirt and prepared to repeat her spiraling game, when Archer, Táan’s white wolf-husky mix, put his giant paws on the back gate. He barked several times and pushed the latch open, bounding into the yard. Táan followed him through the gate and walked over toward her, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “Are you still ignoring me?”
With a tilt of her chin, Dot glared at him then turned away to face the tree. She was in no mood to hear any more of his excuses. Táan had accepted the fetchers’ offer to join them when they departed for the mainland tomorrow afternoon. He hadn’t even asked her what she thought about it at first. And now he was leaving, probably for good. Dot was angry and hurt and, although she hated to admit it, she was jealous. Why can’t I go—why am I not good enough? I know more about wind and currents around here than almost anyone on the island. It’s not fair.
Táan grabbed hold of the ropes and spun Dot’s wooden seat around until she faced him. He leaned over and pressed his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes as he spoke. “Listen, I’ve already told you that I won’t go with them if it means so much to you. Stop acting like a four-year-old.” He shook her swing gently and said, “Besides, if I were to go with them, I promise you, Kij’, I’d talk with their chief and tell her about how good you are in the boats. I’d tell her about how you came to Haida Gwaii—She’d send for you eventually, Kijii… She’d be stupid not to.”
Dot turned her head and looked away. She didn’t care whether Táan thought she was acting childish. She stood up and brushed her right hand over her flattened palm. Enough. Go.
Táan sighed. “Alright. But you can’t stay mad at me forever, y’know.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets and walked toward the gate. Archer stood in the middle of the yard with a confused look on his face. “C’mon, buddy—lets go.”
Marta watched them from the window as she washed dishes. Ol’ Pa sat at the kitchen table and worked on his crossword, clicking his false teeth as he solved the puzzle. Marta shook her head and turned toward her father. “That stubborn girl. She’s going to hold a grudge for as long as you can Chanáa.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, “Dot? …Nah, she’ll come around in time. You should stop spying on them though, just leave ‘em be, nosy old woman.”
Marta tossed her wet sponge in Ol’ Pa’s direction and it landed with a soggy splat on top of his magazine. “I don’t want it to ruin her surprise party, that’s all. Hey, why don’t you go talk to her? She listens to you of all people, although I can’t for the life of me understand why.”
Ol’ Pa grumbled a few words under his breath as he flung the sponge back into the sink. Pushing himself up from his chair, he said, “You’re going to buy me a new crossword puzzle.” He took his cup of tea and shuffled toward the back door.
Dot heard the squeak of the screen door. She didn’t turn around as Ol’ Pa waded through
the uneven grass, clucking to himself about the state of the back yard. She stood beside the trunk of the old spruce tree, peeling off sections of bark with her fingertips and let the tears well in her eyes.
“OK, OK—I’m out here now. I can no longer pretend that this grass doesn’t need mowing, dammit. So, Granddaughter, you must tell me, what is the cause of all this childish behavior?” Ol’ Pa grasped onto the ropes for balance as he spoke. “You’ve never been one for pettiness. Come on, tell my why you’re so sullen right now.”
Dot angrily cupped her hands together in the shape of a boat, moving them up and down in front of her, then pointed toward the gate that Táan had just walked through.
“Yes, he’s lucky to be going to the Greenwood. But then, Táan is almost 20 years old and it is time that he be given a chance. Would you begrudge your best friend that opportunity? Would you prefer that he remain here in the village and grow old waiting for the chíin to return? I know he wouldn’t allow his jealousy to get in the way of your happiness if the situation were reversed.” Ol’ Pa scratched the stubble on his cheek, sipped the last of his tea and continued, “You’re turning 18 tomorrow, Dottie… You’re now a Haida woman. I know that you’ll make me proud of you—like you’ve always done.”
Ol’ Pa turned away and ambled back toward the house. He stooped to retrieve a plastic bowl that had been left outside. Dot leaned her head against the knobby tree trunk. She heard a raspy call from high above and looked up. Monk landed on one of the spruce’s upper branches, he tilted his head sideways and bobbed it up and down. She looked up at her friend, nodded, sighed and followed Ol’ Pa back inside.
Ooligan and Pasha removed the fallen branches that covered their tlúus and began to load the provisions. The weather-buoy in Dixon Entrance indicated that conditions were stable for the next 48 hours, so Kai made the decision to head eastward the next day. Ooligan looked up as Táan and his dog appeared from the wooded pathway. Archer ran toward the beach sniffing at the remnants of the recent tide. Ooligan noticed the glum expression on Táan’s face and said, “Your gal pal still givin’ you the silent treatment?”
Sea of a Thousand Words Page 8
