by Eli Constant
“For reasons you are not privy to, we need to keep her pure.” O’Toole dismissed me with a shake of his head.
“Pure… really? Why? So you can continue to judge her development.”
“Well, yes. She is the high score on our bell curve. We need her for comparison. This was already explained to you.” Peter’s voice was calm, but beneath that calm, I could sense his unease at the prospect of testing on his special beastie.
I placed my hands on my hips. I didn’t want to wait for them to trust me.
Screw the long, drawn-out route.
“So. Keeping Sheila-1 pure has nothing to do with the pretty, little toddler next door?” I looked them both in the eyes and then shifted my gaze to the second door in the lab.
They’d have to be stupid not to get my drift.
“I also have the sneaking suspicion that you both harbor some strange and unnatural feelings for Sheila-1. What? No human females attractive enough? I can see that Sheila has an unusual sort of charm… if you like stretched out, angular features and a buzz cut. Or is it that Sheila-1 does what you say without questioning? Every man likes a complacent female.”
“Elise, you don’t understand.” Peters’ voice was immediately placating, his hands out in front of him.
“What don’t I understand, Doctor? Please, enlighten me. I became involved in all this, firstly,” I ticked off on my fingers, “because I thought we were looking for a way to kill the monsters and secondly,” finger tick, “because we were looking for a way to control them. Now, I find that you’re breeding with them? Tell me, which of you got the honor of sperm donation? Or did you guys toss a few swimmers in a test tube and leave it to chance?”
“I am the biological father of Sheila-2.” Of course it would be O’Toole. If Peters adored Sheila-1, O’Toole was flat-out in love with her.
“I wish I could say I was surprised.”
“Elise, there’s something you need to know. Sheila-2 isn’t a sanctioned part of our experiments.” O’Toole looked at me, dead-square; his face was somehow both blank and stern simultaneously. I wondered if the man ever showed real emotion.
“Ah.” I clipped the word off at the edges, leaving no dangling implications.
“She’s practically a human child. We need to protect her.” Peters, his tone almost begging now. What a pot-shot, targeting my maternal instincts.
“Convince me.”
They led me into the adjacent lab and we spent the rest of the night reviewing data.
Sheila-2 was completely viable. She remained in the prosthetic uterus for two reasons. Number one: The doctors had no idea what to do with her. And Number two: There was no contingency plan to handle a walking, talking, baby ‘under-human.’
The artificial womb supported continued development- provided oxygenation, artificial nutrition feed, and waste removal via dialysis. Sheila-2 could theoretically stay in the tank as long as she didn’t outgrow it.
The doctors also explained to me that biotech engineering was mandated by their superiors and that they had been told that the government planned to use the controlled beasties in a warfare capacity. So they’d lied… the doctors did know what the government had planned for the undergrounders.
Neither Peters nor O’Toole found biotech engineering feasible on a large scale.
“Elise, we can engineer undergrounder after undergrounder to respond to our input. We can walk their bodies across minefields. If they make it to a target destination, we might even be able to make their little hands hit detonation buttons.” Peters shrugged his shoulders.
“Do we really think a remote controlled undergrounder has a spitting chance in hell of crossing enemy lines? Nope. They’d be shot down in a matter of moments. We just don’t have the tech to control them beyond basic movements. If we could retain their speed and dexterity, maybe they’d be effective as suicide soldiers, but…” Peters stopped talking and O’Toole began.
“We had to keep up appearances though. So we brought you in here and let you play with a furry rodent. It didn’t hurt anything, but frankly, it was a waste of assets.”
“So, basically, my entire contribution so far has been to appease the officials?” I was miffed.
‘Playing around with a furry rodent-’ as the doctor had so deprecatingly put it- was not easy work. I huffed internally.
“So, your real work has been happening without authorization?” I knew the answer. I didn’t really need to pose the question.
“Yes. We’re following orders, but we continue to be true to our beliefs as scientists. Integrating the two life forms is our objective privately.” O’Toole turned from me, trying to end the subject with some semblance of finality.
He wasn’t getting the final word; I was way too stubborn for that.
I re-pitched engineering a nanotech composite vector to attack the anti-human parts of the undergrounder genetic code. Both doctors were again dismissive. I persisted, determined it was a solid idea.
“It wouldn’t work.”
“Would you at least talk to your supervisors? See if we could explore the possibility?”
“No. We aren’t going to waste our bosses’ time.”
“But you’ll waste my time lying to me and let me play with a squirrel? Thanks a million.”
Dr. O’Toole didn’t even bother to look at me, continuing to look at the computer stream next to the utero-tank.
“Let me ask you one question. Is it that you don’t deem my idea is viable or is your rejection based on your aversion to altering, and possibly killing, your beloved humanoids?” I was getting pissed again.
I had to mentally remind myself that soap boxes are cardboard and tend not to support the weight of a fully grown woman.
“It goes against everything fundamental to science to destroy a natural species. We need to learn about them, not make them disappear!” Peters now… I’d not seen this vehement side of him before. Even if I’d wanted to perch on the soap box, it seemed like Peter’s had reserved the lofty surface for himself tonight.
“Doctor, respectfully, the rules of science shouldn’t apply to a species that is wiping out our species! Are we supposed to reassemble the food chain and demote humans from the top? Be reasonable. There will be no one left to hold your science in such high regard if the undergrounders destroy the entire human population.”
“It’s better to die ourselves, than to destroy another sentient being!” Peters’ face was beet red, a little vein pumping spasmodically on the side of his forehead.
“Well, on that point, we’ll have to disagree.” I turned away from him to look at the artificial uterus tank. “Sheila-2, on the other hand, is a completely different issue.”
Peters was still agitated and red. “Peters, you might want to take a deep breath before you bust a vein. You’re looking a little pre-aneurism.”
I smirked, just the teeniest bit.
By the end of the night, I’d fully accepted the beauty in the little species cross. I still had misgivings, no doubt about that, but staring at the baby under-human, I felt my maternal side kick into high gear.
If we could research the result and ramifications of interbreeding, then we could explore the very real possibility of unifying the world.
We’d facilitate unity with… really weird sex. I allowed myself a mental chuckle.
If I considered the undergrounders ‘beasties,’ then was I mentally condoning bestiality? Funny thought that was; even funnier was the fact that I was thinking it. What the hell was wrong with me?
Before leaving, I took one more long and hard look at the curled up, suspended form of the female baby.
Nope, I didn’t find her elongated features gruesome anymore. Instead they accentuated her cheek bones and here neck was beautifully curved. I sighed, turning to the doctors.
“If you keep me in the loop, with uninhibited access to Sheila-1 and Sheila-2, mum’s the word.” I ran an imaginary zipper across my lips. “I want to be a part of this. I can’t lie and s
ay I won’t question your methods, but her,” I pointed at the tiny body suspended before me, “I can get behind one hundred percent.”
“Frankly Elise, it will be nice to have a new perspective. We need to figure out what to do with Sheila-2. We really can’t learn anything else until she’s born.” Peters seemed to have quickly recovered from his anger.
The doctors gave me the code to the Sheila-2 lab room. I hadn’t noticed the new code pad. Observation: key to a successful scientist.
“Key pad is new…” I mumbled it, but O’Toole heard me.
“Yes, well. We had to take certain precautions after we found the lab closet vandalized.” O’Toole smiled at me- a genuine smile, wonder if it hurt his face. I looked away, my cheeks turning bright pink.
“That’s unfortunate. I hope nothing too valuable was broken.”
“No, just some stored specimens. Bit of a messy cleanup though.”
I left the lab with a mixed sense of purpose- a real paradigm shift. I arrived back at the room in the wee hours of the morning.
Kara was completely uncovered. Megan had always been a cover hog. The wool blanket was really bunched up around Megan’s body. I tried to unwrap her gingerly, but she stirred.
“Mommy?”
“Go back to sleep, button. It’s not time to wake up.” She rolled back over, trying to pull the covers with her. I held Kara’s section over her until Megan had stopped moving. In retrospect, it would have been easier to just taken a second blanket off one of the unused bunks.
I probably shouldn’t have, but when I found Jason awake in his bed, I laid down next to him and told him all the things I’d just promised to keep secret. But I trusted him.
Jason wanted to meet the Sheilas. I told him he’d have to settle for Elise and maybe one day he could meet Sheila-1 and Sheila-2. I didn’t have it in me to compete for his affection. And that female beastie seemed to have a powerfully strong effect on the male gender. I’d have to look into that. Maybe pheromone excretion?
“Jason… I might support Sheila-2, but what I can’t condone is O’Toole and Peters completely ignoring an idea that could have real merit. It could, theoretically, genetically change the undergrounders’ coding to match ours.” I paused and added: “Of course, it could annihilate them all, but, hey, that’s not so bad either.”
“I don’t want to start another argument. I told you I can see an advantage to using the undergrounders for our gain. But if we can’t use them, we sure as hell need to do something else. Do what you need to do, Elise. You have unrestricted access to the lab. Find a way to get what you need and do it yourself.”
“There’s no way they have what I need here.” I stretched my arms over my head and sighed heavily.
Welcome back, weight of the world. So sorry shoulders.
“If you’re persuasive enough, I bet someone will get you what you need.”
“Maybe.” God, my eyes were feeling heavy.
“Elise?”
“Hmm?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were a scientist?”
“You never asked.” I gave him a weak, sleepy smile.
I was going to need an ally. Someone I could trust. I was keeping secrets for the good doctors; now I was keeping secrets from them.
After a quick impulsive kiss, I moved from Jason’s bunk to the lower bunk closest to the girls. I didn’t want them to wake up and see me ‘cheating’ on their dad. That’s what it felt like anyways. Stamp a scarlet ‘A’ on my chest and call me a harlot. At least by stroke of fate, I looked damn good in red.
Oddly, as I closed my eyes, I had the most unexpected pining for my bright crimson Kitchen mixer… and then I had a hankering for homemade brownies. I wondered if I could get into the kitchen and whip up something sweet.
I’d have to ask Private Timmons, the cook, in the morning. Although he seemed pretty protective of his kitchen and always had sharp cooking knives in his apron pockets. I’d actually seen him wield one at a presumptuous Lieutenant who’d tried to raid the spices for more pepper.
The event turned into a rather harmless squabble, but a dining Colonel took Timmons’ side. Proof positive that the seemingly innocuous line-cook was not to be toyed with.
Good thing I wasn’t queasy around knives.
Releasing Sheila-2
I outlined, planned, and chewed my nails over the next several days, spending quite a bit of time pouring over a genetics book- one of the very few academic texts available in the makeshift school.
I had in my mind a roughed-out plan on how to make my idea viable.
Eventually, I ran into Colonel Benson.
Conveniently, there was no one else around.
It felt like months since I’d seen the man. He was just as gigantic as I remembered and towered over my five foot four frame. His crisp, blue polo complimented his light brown skin tone. I felt a little shy, my words hesitant. Trying to look up at Benson, my neck actually hurt.
“Colonel, a word?”
“I have time for several words. I’ll even listen to them consecutively, perhaps in sentence form.”
“A sense of humor, Colonel? I didn’t know that was allowed at your rank.” He smiled, it was surprisingly warm.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Swanson?”
“Colonel, I need a favor. Actually, I need several favors.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, firstly, none of this can get back to Peters and O’Toole.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. Why?” He relaxed his posture and jabbed both hands into his pant pockets.
“They refuse to even consider my idea. If they find out I’m actively pursuing it, I’m afraid they’ll do whatever they can to stop my work.”
“And what idea would that be?”
“I think that it’s possible to engineer a nanotech virus to target non-human chromosomes in the undergrounder genetic code. The real trick will be to engineer an artificial virus that is molecularly small and thusly compatible with my idea for airborne delivery. It’s been done, of course, once… in a research lab outside London called BritScience, but the likelihood of creating the exact parameters of the original study are slim for success.”
“English, please.”
“Hmm, I thought that was English.”
“Being a smart ass doesn’t help your case, Mrs. Swanson.” His lips were frowning, but his eyes were smiling. For a high up military official, he wasn’t very good at concealing emotions.
Maybe he was an anomaly- works for the government, but also honest. Stranger things have happened; I couldn’t think of anything stranger off hand though. Maybe beasties taking over the world.
“Okay. English.” I paused, thinking, the effect was unintentionally dramatic, building the suspense. “I think I can render the undergrounders either all human or all dead. Either way…” I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders, trying to read his face.
This time, Benson was mute in the emotion department. There wasn’t even the slightest altering of his features. The eyes, so recently crinkled in humor, were dead now.
“Either way, problem solved.” He said slowly.
“Problem solved, if it works.” I emphasized ‘if’ and nodded. I knew that I’d found the ally I needed and I didn’t have to betray Sheila-2 in the process.
Several hours later, Colonel Benson introduced me to a select group of NORAD officials- five of them. I was reminded of my first awkward, impromptu lecture on my work at AB&T.
Before I spoke, the Colonel apprised the group of the importance of keeping the proceedings completely secretive. I was to be assigned a laboratory of my own located in a restricted wing of the facility.
Benson apologized in advance for the location; if I thought Lab-3 in the science wing was a distance to go, walking to my new lab was going to feel like the first leg of an ultra-marathon.
When everyone was clear that ‘mum’ was the word, I got up.
“Who here is familiar with basic nanotechnology?”
<
br /> No one moved to indicate knowledge. I turned to Benson, “Well, first things first, I’ll need someone who knows more about this than I do. I’m a novice at best.” Benson dipped his head in understanding.
“Okay. Let me try to make this as simple as possible- no offense. Nanotech involves creating materials or devices that fall within a very specific size range. That range is 1 to 100 nanometers, far smaller than our ability to see without aid. This nanotech can be engineered to be self-sustaining via molecular self-assembly.” I stopped long enough for my first words to be digested.
“Questions so far?” No one said anything, so I continued speaking.
“What I want to explore is the possibility of engineering an airborne nanotech that will target the non-human chromosomes within the undergrounder population. As I’m sure you all know, 22 chromosomal pairs are shared by both the human and humanoid species. Standing in the way of a species convergence,” I laced my fingers together to demonstrate, “are three chromosomal pairs, six little individual chromosomes.”
Everyone was staring intently; my palms were sweaty against each other. I unlinked my fingers. My hands fell to my sides. I tried to inconspicuously wipe the sweat off of them.
“Okay. Um,” uncomfortable pause, “So, what I’m think we need are engineered Nano-cells that mimic natural white blood cells. On a daily basis, our natural cells fight off infections and unwanted foreigners in our bodies. Why not apply that medicinal principal to our enemies’ DNA?”
I moved around the front of the room, the pacing helped me articulate my thoughts. “Everyone still following?” Some nods, some confused expressions, but no responses.
“Okay, then. Where was I…? We create vectors that are capable of entering genetic code, eating at and eliminating the three foreign chromosomal pairs. It’ll be like il vivo principle in gene therapy- the vectors are introduced straight to the body and those vectors affect whatever gene they are programed to target. Programmed artificial, white blood cells.”
