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“What are they?” asked Marcos in a mix of wonder and dismay.
“They are a solution; maybe not the solution but one of many until we are fateful enough to stumble upon the one and only. What you see here are order and progression. Now, the result may still need some tweaking but the effort on our part, on the science itself, is undeniably splendorous if I might say so. This here is evolution; theoretically it is what nature intended all along. You see that splice of our DNA, it has so much potential and, in theory, it had perpetually gone to waste” said The Elderly Scientist.
The two men looked out over a railing where below them a giant area was segmented into glass boxes where in each box of differentiating size, a human in white clothes was being exposed to a variety of regimented tests and experiments. The humans in white had tubes coming from their temples that were tied off to boxes at the far ends of the rooms. The boxes had dials and digits and men in white coats sat by the dials, augmenting them gradually as the humans in white underwent physical stresses.
“This is what you’re experimenting on? This is your version of a cure; perfecting the disease?” Marcos said.
“You’re looking at this through a glass eye. You saw yourself, in the previous rooms. We are working hard to re-establish the empathy gene focusing on the re-learning and loving of Mother to Infant. What you see here is the recycling of our knowledge and resources to focus on understanding better how to make the caipirinha a little bit stronger. If this is evolution, than it will not go in reverse so we need to adapt our thinking to nature’s intention. Man went back into the jungle yes, but not with a banana, with a shotgun and man went back to the sea, but not with gills, with submarines. We all want to get back to the same place; some of us are just designing more efficient ways of getting there. Nature took us from our womb, so we built The City. Nature took us from our Mother’s breast and so, we conceived an Industry. The Industry was nature” said The Elderly Scientist.
Marcos stared vacantly out through the glass cubes.
“No? Okey dokey, take this picture frame for example” he said, pulling an empty broken picture frame from a table near the two.
“Now a long time ago this frame had a value, it was property, a symbol of identity and it was sold in a store and I assume along the way someone bought this frame and well, somewhere down the line it ended up here, in my hands. Now the life of the frame is not important but when this frame was sold it came with a picture inside; a charming family frolicking in a park, the happy young couple doting over their blonde haired child, picking flowers from a garden bed; or something like that. Now the picture in the frame wouldn’t serve the frame’s ultimate potential. The idea was that one would be enticed into the design, take the frame home and replace the photo with one of your own; your family, your pet, your lover, whatever the occasion may fancy. We’re doing the same thing. We see the empathy gene as not essential to the frame but merely an average representation of human idealism that could be easily mass produced for the sake of species replication; like having a system whose only intelligent command is to back up. Instead of the cute blonde haired boy, we envisage a picture of a young Adolf Hitler, Ivan the Terrible or a sardonic Jesus Christ. We are removing the back-up command and replacing with something more appropriate. For instance, in this room you will see one of our first experiments. This infant is only a day or two old. She was collected yesterday I believe. Now for the first weeks; now I say weeks only if it responds to our formulae, if not than these experiments run anywhere from three hours to one and a half days until it is officially brain dead. Anyway, in the first weeks its sight is not very functional so we expose it to sounds. The Infant’s ears respond very well to hissing, creating a sense of calm. We try to assume the complete opposite. Our focus is to incite pure terror and have the infant nurture this sensation as the foundation of their emotional reserve. Now our goal is not to frighten, we don’t want to weaken or inhibit the child as it grows. Our aim is to galvanize the infant’s subconscious state into one of absolute abomination and have the infant grow around this state so that its being; its state of one, is, in fact, pure unadulterated evil; as my charming meta-colleague would put it. You know, it wasn’t so much the image, but the usage of colour that made religion so interesting, but that’s a direction we can take at the end of the tour. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, the car. No, wait, that was before. Oh dear. What were we talking about again?” he said, left of focus.
“We talked about religion, I said that religion was colourful and that’s not bad and before that we, ah, yes, unadulterated evil. You know I could have just said evil but its adjectives that make communication special. Accessorise your speech, that’s what I always say. Well, I don’t say it. I mean, not all the time, well never really but, you know…given the right context I could see that as being a great moniker. Do you ever think about this sort of thing? Anyway, umm… ahh yes, oh this is beautiful. Look, here at this Child” The Elderly Scientist said, pointing to a window beside Marcos where an infant lay on the floor in a sticky tar substance that covered its back and neck.
The infant sank just up to its ears; enough so that with every movement, its skin pulled agonisingly as it tried to return its cry back to the ceiling.
There was a man being choked next to the infant’s ear as it cried hysterically into the air and a couple engaged in sadomasochistic sex at the far end of the room. Marcos couldn’t look any more.
It was perverted and horrific.
“What do you hope to achieve? What is the result of this science?” he asked.
“Sex and death are everything. Zero and one, love and fear, the void and infinity, production, destruction, creation, extinction, I could keep going. The infant is exposed to both elements in its most, humanely bizarre, to put it laymanly. The sex and death are perpetuated throughout the experiment. Each party stays in a state of unremitting climax. This man never goes and that man never comes” he said laughing.
“Sorry, bad taste, but yes we extend their suffering. Neither experience is pleasurable. I am really eager to see the outcome of this experiment. The idea here is to replicate or manipulate some gene that could assimilate as for instance, the Stalin gene. It’s still is in its infancy, I want you to see some work that has been running for some time now” said The Elderly Scientist, leading Marcos down a set of stairs where they came to a set of wrought iron doors, one on either side, both evasive about what they kept inside.
The Elderly Scientist pulled open a sliding grate on one door showing a girl; an adolescent, sitting on a chair with her head looking to the floor. Her long hair hung down over her face and her arms rested on her legs, coming together just in front of her knees and her fingers; laxed and open, catching the cool breeze coming from the ventilators behind her on the walls at the back of the room.
The girl was dressed completely in white; white pants, a white shirt and bare feet; her pale and fair white skin dressed against the filthy concrete floor and on the girl’s chest; barely visible under the swish of her long straight black hair, a large black heart.
Marcos stared through the window at the girl as if he were staring at the devil incarnate. The hairs on his neck tingled, his stomach felt heavy and his head light. His heart pumped waves of adrenaline through his body, fastening the go at his feet.
“Who is she? What is she?” he asked shakily.
“She is the first Black Heart,” said The Elderly Scientist proudly.
“What have you done? You’ve ruined everything. This was not what I imagined. There is no humanity in that Child” he said angrily.
“Yes, she is amazing isn’t she? Her name is Eve. We are all very proud. She really is quite remarkable. It took a lot of research and a lot of science to create this girl. She is evolution; the next human, our replacement” said The Elderly Scientist.
“But what does it matter? It’s all ending, we all know. Without the empathy gene no infant can survive, there can’t be more than fifty years
left; until we’re no more present than a blue sky on a cold grey August morning. You wasted your time, you’ve wasted all of our time; for this, monstrosity” said Marcos; an accepted defeat serenading in his voice.
“It is true, the current dilemma addressing mankind does assess some limitations, but this is the beauty of our creation,” The Elderly Scientist said, clicking his fingers towards another man in a white coat standing back at the top of the corridor.
The Man in White entered the room with the screaming Infant and interrupted the man being choked advising the administrator to halt for a few moments. The choking man fell to the floor gagging for air, his neck raw from the cord that tore through his skin, enough just to perpetuate his suffering, but not enough to kill him, at least until the influence was at its completion.
The man in white took the crying infant and dressed it in a white cloth enveloping the tar that for the moment would be too difficult and time consuming to remove. He took The Infant down the corridor to the door where Marcos and The Elderly Scientist stood then opened the door and left the crying Infant on the floor which by now was red all over from constant screaming in underived frustration and desperation for sustenance; be it from a Mother’s breast or the gentle kiss of a Mother’s heart.
The Man in White left the room, locking the door behind him and The Elderly Scientist invited Marcos to attention, the two men watching through the window; a double sided mirror, as the girl dressed in white with a black heart on her chest stood up from the chair and took the crying Infant into her hands and held it high in the air so its screams passed through the ventilation and out into the hallways where The Elderly Scientist and Marcos stood.
The Black Heart lowered the infant to her sight, her mouth dry with not a flicker of emotion on her face at all. She took the screaming infant and sat down on the chair. The Black Heart lifted her stare to the two men looking through the window and hissed vilely, her saliva spitting from her mouth onto the window and diluting their sight. Marcos flinched overcome by surprise, not at the girl’s hissing but at how she nursed the infant out of its frustration and into sleep.
“She isn’t pretending. This is real” said The Elderly Scientist smiling to himself.
Eve lifted her head to look at the two men she knew that were peering through the slit in the door. With one hand, she pulled the hair from her face and her emerald green eyes pulled both men into distraction.
“Milena? That’s her. That’s the girl” said Marcos pushing his face against the glass.
“Who?” said The Elderly Scientist.
“She came to me. She told me about Safrine’s taking” he said.
“Oh, the twin. Her trials are fascinating. No, Eve doesn’t leave these laboratories” The Elderly Scientist said.
“Are you sure? It’s impossible. Her eyes. She was in my office” he said before punching at the door, beating with the hammer of his fist.
“Milena” he screamed.
“Please refrain from creating a ruckus. She cannot hear you. Any outside stimuli could interfere with the cerebral experiments so her room is completely sound and light proofed. Please just refrain from hitting the door, I don’t like loud banging. I have an irritable bowel and well, loud banging causes this glitch in my brain like a domino that runs through my whole system and you know, for all the gizmos we have down here, you’d think they could put in one accessible toilet. I have to go all the way to the main office and you saw yourself, that’s just ridiculous. In the new place, I want a toilet on every floor” he said complainingly.
“But that was her, in my office,” he said, ignoring the scientist’s rambling.
“It wasn’t her Marcos of Importance,” he replied.
“You mentioned a twin. What twin? Safrine? The Child?” he asked.
“Oh, she is no Child. She is special. She’s the reason we’re moving. A very long time ago, some wonderful physicists split an atom, the effect was marvellous; such universal power. Well, we intend to split a twin. We still have to find her other half to finish the equation but when we do…. Well, let me tell you the science we are achieving in this new age is so far beyond the conscious limitations of the empathic era” said The Elderly Scientist boldly.
Eve smiled as both men continued speaking but remained profoundly lost in the magnificent colour of her stare and with her free hand pulling away from the hair that she tucked behind her ear, she rested the back of it against The Infant’s cheek, stroking it lightly before reaching around the back of its head to the other cheek, clenching firm and pulling her fingers over The Infant’s chin whilst smiling at the two peering men. She then ripped her hand back under the Child’s head, breaking the infant’s neck in one swipe. Both men jumped back in shock.
“What the fuck?” screamed Marcos.
“That, Marcos of Importance, is perfection. She did that just for you. You really should say thank you. I tell you, it’s never easy to witness; the sleight of hand from one extreme to the next and her senses; wow, I think she could be omniscient. If she knows everything, would that make me the father of everything? She has so much potential. This is just a start mind you, but one hell of a start wouldn’t you think? Obviously with the move in the coming days, we don’t have the time frame we would like to wrap up this experiment but for the meantime, she is close to perfect. In another month, I firmly believe she will lactate as for the moment she merely cradles the infants to their death. So much better than what some us have received from life, yes? In time, she will be ready to conceive. That is of course when we can create an ideal partner for her. This may take some time. The male gene has proved more difficult to produce solid results, but we are highly confident” said The Elderly Scientist.
Marcos was speechless. They had taken his intention, his philosophy and turned it on its head. They had found a cure for The Famine; to start again but this new human, was it better or worse?
“We’re not moving. The Nest stays intact. And this, this bizarreness, it stops now. Do you understand me?” he yelled.
“Rhetorical I assume but nevertheless, Marcos of Importance, I admire you. Your ideas were very naïve, but with them look what we have managed to achieve. Not even a god could do what we have done with our limited resources in such an oppressing environment. You have the god gene in you Marcos of Importance. Whether you accept it or not, creation is in no way born from the womb of intention. This girl, she is your genesis” said The Elderly Scientist.
Marcos looked through the window. The Black Heart held the infant close to her breast gently rocking back and forth.
“How does this help the rest of us? What about The Famine? How does she cure The Famine?” Marcos demanded.
“There is no cure. The best hope is what you have. Your philosophy is perfect Marcos of Importance. You will not create a new hope or a new gene with your song and dance, but you will sustain the hunger until you bargain with death; you can continue to live in some sort of a society. Has it not been fun? It’s no different to what was. This burden you wear of always sustaining and containing the feverish Famine from destroying your City; this has been the adage of governance since the dawn of man. You don’t remember do you; the lights, the sounds, the images? They worked tirelessly, the governments and advertisers and churches; day and night, just as you do now, to feed a Famine just like we have now. Nothing changed. They thought they were saviours too. The conscious mind is a baby’s rattle, nothing more; a device for distraction; like a pinball machine. Insert the right information and it will bounce around in there fooling the participant into thinking they are doing something; participating. There is no cure for this Famine. There is a remedy and in all honesty, I like your approach. It is very intellectual, very refined. You were an artist before; in the days of identity, yes? You have the god gene Marcos of Importance, you are special, like her” said The Elderly Scientist.
“What is in the other room?” asked Marcos.
The Elderly Scientist smiled and turned on the round knob
opening the door to their right. Behind the door was a massive room and inside an arsenal of weaponry and crude ammunition.
“Welcome to liberty,” he said.
Everywhere Marcos looked stood machinery of some sort. There were vehicles fashioned like metallic war horses and catapults and cross bows and guns; they were uncouth looking, but they were guns, hundreds of them and on the tables in the distance, what looked like bowls of black powder.
The machines interested him more. He walked into the room with The Elderly Scientist in tow, running his hands along the sides of the metallic beasts. There were scores of them. He imagined they could carry several hundred through any environment, and bring unto it, the grace of war.
“How did this come to be?” he asked amazed.
“The large one, the one with the booming voice and calamitous hands, he brought us the parts. We have an engineer in our team. I must say I was very sceptical about the whole science of engines, I mean a monkey could put one together, but I must say he has done an outstanding job” said The Elderly Scientist.
“But how do they run? There hasn’t been petroleum in over fifty years” said Marcos.
“These here, the larger ones were adapted from early models of Norse fighting vessels; leg power. This vehicle seats a hundred men at its core who provide man power to project the vehicle. It still amazes me how after all these years, the power of simplicity. Once these vehicles are in motion, it will take a great deal of convincing to bring it to a stop. The final parts arrived yesterday. These smaller vehicles, combustibles. Those drums in the corner there, ethanol. Quite impressive wouldn’t you say?” said The Elderly Scientist adopting a hubristic tone.
“How long has this been in production?” Marcos asked.
“Well, I have been here for at least twenty five years, but before my time, who knows exactly,” said The Elderly Scientist.
“What? But that’s impossible. The Collective have been here for ten. This didn’t exist before me” said Marcos in disbelief.
“Said The Child to The Father” replied The Elderly Scientist.
“At a guess, the machines, maybe for the last eight years and the laboratories have been functioning for more than fifty, I couldn’t tell you exactly but what I can say is that a lot of hard work and preparation has got us to where we are today,” said The Elderly Scientist.
“Why didn’t I know about this?” Marcos asked.
“We thought it wasn’t necessary until now,” said The Elderly Scientist.
“Who sanctioned this? What is the reason for this?” he demanded.
“Isn’t that the universal question; purpose, identity, belonging? You know I once…”
Marcos pushed The Elderly Scientist into one of the machines leaving him hanging on by a word and he stormed up the stairwell and into the hallway and followed the winding corridor out into the main room where several men in white coats sat around a table drinking tea. Marcos was white, completely unsure of what to think or say or do. He looked down at the scientists sitting at the table.
“Tea?” said a man in white offering the flask to Marcos.
“Please,” he said extending his hand.
One of the men in white coats leaned to the bench beside and pulled a cup bringing it back to the table and filling it with amber fluid. He passed the cup to Marcos excitedly.
Marcos put the cup to his lips and drank long of the hot liquid ignoring the pain as it seared the roof of his mouth and throat on its way down.
“This really is impressive,” he said as he lowered the cup and left the room in blatant self-preserving negation of what he had just seen and heard.
A Rising Fall Page 29
