Earth Keepers
Jorge Alejandro Lavera
Translated by Elizabeth Galbreath
“Earth Keepers”
Written By Jorge Alejandro Lavera
Copyright © 2018 Jorge Alejandro Lavera
All rights reserved
Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.
www.babelcube.com
Translated by Elizabeth Galbreath
“Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.
First edition: December 2018
Original Spanish First edition: July 2017
Original Spanish Second edition: June 2018 revision: 12.6.18
Author and editor: Jorge Alejandro Lavera (Argentina)
Spanish Copy editor: Elizabeth Norlam (Spain)
English Translation: Elizabeth Galbreath
Cover design: http://www.maquetacionlibros.com
Cover image, modified from original, used with permission.
© 2017, 2018 Jorge Alejandro Lavera.
The total or partial reproduction of this work by any means or procedure, whether electronic or mechanical, computer processing, renting or any other form of assignment of this work, without the previous written authorization of the author of the same, is expressly prohibited.
The deposit required under Law 11.723 has been effected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Copyright Page
Earth Keepers
Failed Species
RAQUEL
HOODED MAN
DECISION
TRAGEDY
MEETING
CORRUPTION
THE CITIES
PLANS
HEART
THE MESSAGE
INTERVIEW
EXAMINATIONS
POLYGRAPH
VACCINATIONS
WE SAVE THE EARTH
PERFUME
TERRORIST
JOKE
POLITICS
MOSQUITOES
NO CLUES
VIRAL SAMPLE
PROGRESS
RETROVIRUS
EVERYONE SICK
CATASTROPHE
THE CRUISE
REFUGE
PERSONNEL MEETING
CANCELLATION
CITY IN DARKNESS
DEPARTURE
THE FUN IS OVER
A LANDING
DOGS
HOSTAGES
INTERCEPTED
ARRIVAL
REVELATIONS
REBELLION
ALARM
LAUNCH
BUNKER
DEFENSES
IMPACT
SHOCK
REPAIRS ON BOARD
INTERROGATION
HITMAN
UNCERTAINTY
IMMORTALS
THEORIES
ESCAPE
TRANSFER
INNOCENTS
MUSA
TZEDEK
INCOMMUNICADO
GETAWAY
PASSENGERS
SOFÍA
COUNCIL
NEW GOVERNMENT
FAREWELL
DAWN
Eras of Queens
ATTACK
PRACTICING
IN THE LABORATORY
CONFUSION
INCOMPATIBLE TECHNOLOGIES
EXPERIMENTS
BIOLOGICAL ENGINEERING
CHALLENGE DAY
TRAINING
ONE OF TZEDEK’S MEMORIES
COMBAT PRACTICE
GEA’S JEWELS
WALK THROUGH THE COUNTRYSIDE
TIARA
STRANGERS
A CORONATION
ANOTHER LEVEL
DESTINY
CONTACT
SHARED
FUSION
THE COLLAPSE OF ATLANTIS
THE PROMISE
SPECIAL DELIVERY
LEORA AND ROBERT
THE TRUTH
LYING IN WAIT
SURPRISES
CAPTURED
THE SEARCH
STORM
GODS
PREPARING FOR THE FUTURE
NEPHELE
LONIA 4
EVACUATION
VAULT
CLIMATE CHANGE
TRANSPORT
KADENCE
YEAR ONE
THE END | For now...
AUTHOR’S NOTES
ADDENDUM
ABOUT PIRACY
Earth
Keepers
Jorge Alejandro Lavera
Failed Species
RAQUEL
Buenos Aires, November 13, 2013. 8:00 a.m.
Raquel Navarro was an electrical engineer with a doctorate in biochemistry. For ten years, she had run a secret research group in nanotechnology, specifically in the area of biological interaction. Her team was made up of the best scientists in the areas of biology, chemistry, medicine, engineering, computers, and materials. What they wanted was to develop some small robots that could be introduced into the bloodstream to interact with the body’s cells.
The first nanites they managed to develop were electronic but too big. While they could do some interesting things inside the body, they were very limited in autonomy and capacity.
Over the years their project had advanced a lot. For a while, they worked and tested programmable electrobiological nanites. This generation of robots was so small that they manufactured them by molecular assembly. The nanites were armed molecule by molecule and, because of their size, they could get into any cell of an organism as if they were a virus. Once in the cell, they could transform it by adding or taking things away, including modifying its DNA. In practice, the testing in a few mice had produced few results...generally lamentable ones. Even so, the company that had financed it from the beginning had never treated her badly.
Today she was resting at home, and although she was dying to go to her laboratory, she was under medical orders to rest because she still hadn’t recovered from the Cesarean section she’d had exactly ten days ago. It still hurt a lot every time she moved. However, she was getting up, and could use the computer for several hours. She was in permanent contact with her laboratory by videoconference.
The doorbell rang. Raquel was irritated. Moving was painful, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Perhaps the mail carrier? She wasn’t expecting any mail. And it was early. Jehovah’s witnesses, maybe? She waited a moment—if it was a solicitor, maybe they’d leave. However, after a minute, the doorbell rang again.
She sat up slowly, and in pain, went to the door. She pulled her bangs out of her eyes and through the peephole saw a tall man in a gray suit and chauffeur hat.
“Yes?” Raquel inquired.
“Dr. Raquel Navarro?” asked the man at the door.
Raquel opened the door, and answered, “Yes, that’s me.”
“One moment, please.” The man inclined his head, and almost ran to the car parked in front of the house. He opened the back door to let someone out. Raquel saw that he was tall and corpulent, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. She recognized him.
The man, who had light hair with gray tones and an abundant curly beard, came up to her. His light green eyes took her breath away for a moment, but he held out his hand and said:
“Nice to meet you, my name is Tzedek Zetos. I have the results of the DNA analysis you requested a week ago.”
Raquel was surprised. “Already?” Besides, the man didn’t look like an errand boy. “Was there some problem? Is there bad news?”
“Oh, no,” Raquel thought. “Maybe what I feared is true, and out of delicacy, they sent him to tell me in person.”
Tzedek put out a hand to reas
sure her. “On the contrary. Please don’t worry. I saw your request and wanted to meet you in person. In the end, you’ve worked for me for years and we’ve never met.” Seeing Raquel’s bewildered face, he added: “I’m the owner of Nanobiotec Corp.”
Raquel opened her mouth and froze. Nanobiotec was the company that had financed her salary, her laboratory, and her research for years. That’s why she’d recognized the man, she’d seen him from a distance once years ago when he’d visited the laboratory. They hadn’t been introduced on that occasion.
Tzedek laughed. “May I come in?”
Raquel tried to pull herself out of her stupefaction, and finally succeeded. She gestured to Tzedek, who stopped as soon as he came in the door. The house was small and opened directly into what functioned as both dining room and office. One side of the room was taken up with a table and some chairs, and the other had a couple of desks with computers.
“Is your husband home?” Tzedek asked.
“Not right now. He’s at work, Mr.....Zetos?” Raquel asked, unsure.
“Please. Everyone knows me as Tzedek. With a name like that, who needs a last name, right?” he answered, smiling. He took some folders out of his briefcase and put them on the desk.
“Here are the results you requested. I understand you were worried about your daughter, correct?”
Raquel looked embarrassed. “Um, yes, a little bit.”
“In fact, you asked for proof of paternity. Were you afraid she wasn’t your husband’s daughter?” Tzedek looked at her pointedly.
Raquel turned red.
“No! If you’re insinuating that I don’t know who the father is, of course not. What happened is that I was afraid she’d been switched at the hospital.”
Tzedek raised his eyebrows. “Ah, but why?”
“Well...mostly because of her eyes. My husband Juan Carlos and I both have dark brown eyes, the same as everyone in his family and mine. Sofía was born with very light green eyes, with yellow tones, very unusual. Similar to...well...yours, in fact.” Raquel said uneasily, feeling a chill.
“Well, you can stop worrying. Sofía is without a doubt the genetic daughter of both of you. Look, here are the markers,” Tzedek pointed out, showing her the papers. Raquel relaxed a little and smiled.
“Well, at least I have the certificate to prove it when people look at me suspiciously. And it will reassure my husband, although he hasn’t said anything...”
Tzedek laughed again.
“I’d certainly keep an eye on this girl’s development if I were you. Few people ask for DNA tests, and I took the liberty of asking for a complete test instead of the usual cheaper one, at my expense, of course. All three of you are very healthy and we don’t see any genetic problems.”
The sudden cry of the baby was heard clearly.
“Excuse me,” Raquel said, going to the bedroom. She picked up the baby from her crib and gently cradled her while she returned to the dining room. Sofía quieted down immediately.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Tzedek. I don’t know why you went to so much trouble...” Raquel started to say, when Tzedek stopped her with a gesture of his hand.
“Your work is very valuable to us. We’re following your progress all the time, and we know your ability and your team’s. I don’t want you to have any problems distracting you. And now, I won’t bother you any more, I just wanted to meet you and give you the good news.”
Realizing that Tzedek was taking his leave, Raquel thanked him and walked him to the door, carrying her baby on one arm.
Sofía looked at Tzedek and seriously scowled, then looked at her mom and smiled at her.
“Raquel, if you need anything, if you have any problem, don’t hesitate for a second to come ask me for help. Whatever it is, you can count on me,” Tzedek said as he left. Raquel saw him climb into the car that was waiting for him and for a moment she thought he was smiling. Suddenly he looked at her, became serious and waved good-bye as the vehicle started up.
Raquel waved back, looked at Sofía, and noticed that she was looking towards where Tzedek had gone, once again with a serious face and a frown. “How strange,” she thought. When she went back in, she left Sofía in her crib and spent a few minutes looking at the folders with the analyses that Tzedek had brought. Everything looked good.
“Everything is fine, let it go,” it seemed like a voice insisted in her head. And when she looked at her daughter again, she no longer cared about the color of her eyes.
HOODED MAN
Caracas, June 23, 2014. 2:35 a.m.
The man strolled through the city at night, as was his custom. Despite the heat, he wore a lightweight hooded jacket, which he wore over his head so that his face was barely visible. Passing through the entrance to an empty lot, he heard struggles, screams, occasional barking, and the cry of a baby. He looked everywhere and saw no policeman. Actually, he didn’t see anybody. He went closer.
“Hey, friend, mind your own business,” said a guy who was at the entrance of the lot. His pants were stained with blood, and it was clear he’d participated in whatever was going on.
“Oh, but this is my business,” said the hooded one, coming closer.
The man grunted and showed him a gun he was holding in his hand. The hooded one could see the whole picture now. In one corner of the lot, thrown naked on the ground among garbage and glass, was a woman. One guy held her arms and hit her in the head every time she tried to resist or scream. The other delinquent was naked and raping her, mounted on top of her. Everything was covered in blood. He saw bits of torn clothing thrown around. A few feet away there were a pair of motorcycles and a baby stroller, with a newborn baby crying, and a little dog tied to it, lying on the ground, moaning and barking every so often. It looked like they had kicked it or hurt it somehow.
There were just those three men. The surrounding houses were, of course, hermetically sealed.
“What is it you don’t understand, friend? This is a private party. But since you’ve come by to visit us, you can pay the toll,” growled the evildoer, pointing the gun at the hooded man’s chest.
The man holding the woman’s arms was distracted, and she took the opportunity to get a hand free, with which she dug her nails into the face of the degenerate on top of her. She plunged her thumb in his eye and pushed with all of her might while the man let out a wild scream.
The guy holding the gun turned his head. In that fraction of a second, the hooded man took out the pistol he had in his pocket, aimed it at his chest and fired twice. The man yelled and pulled the trigger reflexively. The shot hit the hooded man in the shoulder, pushing him as if he’d been punched, but it didn’t hurt him. He grinned slyly while the other one clutched his chest and died as he fell to the ground.
The hooded man took a step forward and took the gun out of the man’s hand. The other two men had stopped, frightened. The one who had been holding the woman had got up and reached for his weapon, but it slipped from the blood on his hands. The intruder in the hood aimed, and again fired two times with precision, the first shot to the chest and the next to the head. Blood splattered the other guy who was holding his face. He left the woman and froze, staring at him with one eye.
“Did you enjoy that?” the hooded man asked, looking him directly in the eye. The naked man grabbed his head, and the stranger said, “I see.” He fired two quick shots at point-blank range into the man’s genitals. The guy collapsed to the ground, screaming.
He cocked his head as if listening to something, then asked, “Why do you think you deserve an ambulance? Though it would be interesting to see how your life would go if you did survive. But don’t worry, the police will come in a little while.” He looked around. The streets were still empty, and the houses closed, and he added, shrugging, “Or maybe not.”
The woman was crying, and with great effort had curled up into a fetal position. She couldn’t move because of the pain; her body was full of cuts and bruises. She was bathed in her own blood, that c
ame out between her legs, in front and behind, and from other places. She raised her head a little and looked at him with desperation through a half-closed eye. The other was swollen shut.
“You won’t want to live with those memories, believe me,” he murmured, and shot her in the head. He went over to the baby stroller and without hesitation, fired his gun once more. The crying was cut short. “Wild apes,” he muttered, shaking his head, and then sighed. He bent down to pet the dog, which backed away, frightened at the sight of his hand with six fingers.
“Poor little thing.” He untied it and the dog half walked, half crawled towards the body of his owner and laid down there.
He shook his head. He made sure he wasn’t covered in blood, looked at the slaughterhouse before him, and looked around to make sure no one was there. Then he walked calmly away, leaving the moans in the distance.
He pulled off his hood, revealing a handsome face with neatly cut brown hair, no beard, and sky-blue eyes. He spent the rest of the night at the hotel. The next day, he paid the bill, and driving his sports car within the speed limits, left the city.
It would be one of the many unresolved crimes added to the statistics. When the police arrived, to their surprise one of the men was still alive. Unfortunately for the police, he didn’t say anything coherent (“The devil got into my head, oh my God forgive me.”) Before they could take him, he bled to death. For a couple of weeks, there had been similar cases almost every night, and because of the description by distant witnesses, they were calling him ‘The Angel of Death.’
“He’s beautiful like an angel,” an old woman told the police, but because of her age and poor vision, they could not take her testimony very seriously. Until now, they hadn’t found any pattern or one single clue to catch the killer. No fingerprints, no eyewitnesses, or motives. And they would never find them.
DECISION
Buenos Aires, May 24, 2016. 2:15 p.m.
Tzedek got the news on his private page. He had a small army of people he paid to very carefully read and select articles from the news services and the most important scientific sites. Their job was to find notes of interest to him, according to a list of subjects that he had provided them, verify their veracity, check it against all possible sources, and make sure beyond all doubt, even consulting with those involved or mentioned, that the news was true, and not speculation or fantasy like those which circulated so much on the internet.
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