Chapter 17

Two weeks had passed since Anton’s arrival and Dr Caroline Finnegan had first spoken to him, and his deliberate lack of cooperation was frustrating her. She had tried every trick in the book to get the Indigene to open up to her so she could understand what made him tick. Even being his friend hadn’t worked. In the end, Anton had remained uncooperative at best.

The shock treatments she administered pulled him into reality, but as soon as she left him alone for any length of time he slipped away again to some mental retreat. Caroline didn’t have time to babysit him; she needed to keep going with her research. Charles Deighton was impatient and failure was not an option. Failure meant being stranded on Earth, and that would be a death sentence. She couldn’t do that to her team. She’d crack Anton’s genetic code if it was the last thing she did.

She recalled how excited she’d been after Deighton had offered her the job of studying the genetic structure of the Indigenes. It had been during her early years in an inferior laboratory that she had first used the programmed nanoids to add new genes to an animal’s original DNA. That had led to this rare opportunity to work on the Indigenes. Now, as she struggled to find the code for the additional genetic differences between Indigenes and human, she began to wonder if the job was worth risking her life for. Scientists elsewhere had already perfected the genetic grafting process; she needed to look at the trickier elements that went beyond simple evolution. Anton was proof that the human body could expand its genetic structure; but just as the physical body had altered, so too had the powers of the Indigene mind. Her team continued the hunt for the next step in the evolution process.

The information from the other laboratories had allowed Caroline and her team to skip over the preliminary steps and dive right into the detailed work. What they understood so far was that the Indigenes’ cell structure had mutated because of the race’s relocation underground. But what was most interesting was that while the relocation had physically altered the original Indigenes, who had looked like humans, the most significant mutations occurred in the genetic code of the generation that followed; they no longer resembled the race that had been created only fifty years ago.

The scientists involved in the creation of the first Indigene had understood the risks if their efforts were unsuccessful. The human race needed Exilon 5 to stand any chance of survival, and they needed to be able to live in the harsh atmosphere there. If they couldn’t mutate into Indigenes, their future was bleak. At the time, Caroline had understood the World Government’s urgency when they’d ordered the genetic testing programme to begin in earnest. It was initially set up as a voluntary programme, but so radical were the experiments that there were no volunteers. Instead they resorted to taking people out of their current lives without permission, making the genetic modifications and wiping their memories of any previous existence. Like others who knew of the programme’s darker side, Caroline had her reservations about this method of ‘recruitment’. But the World Government could not come up with a better solution to the problem.

Amidst the chaos in the laboratory, Caroline leaned her back against the central island and crossed one foot over the other. She noticed Felicity flush red when her colleague Julian thanked her for a tray of cultures she’d just handed to him. Caroline smiled. Physically very different people—Felicity with her untidy black hair and Julian with his Scandinavian blonde hair and good looks—she imagined what their babies would look like. Humans had made rapid progress as far as genetics were concerned.

In the early days of genetics, when an error occurred in a gene containing two exons, the most effective treatments used a synthetic RNA strand, or a ‘message’, containing a piece that could bind to the intron next to the defective exon. The intron and the defective exon were spliced to create a mature mRNA. But the process never repaired the gene, only the ‘message’. Treatment for patients was part of an ongoing cycle because the ‘message’ only dealt with the problem of the defective protein being translated. The treatments helped to prevent the defective protein from interfering with the functionality of the repaired protein. In modern day genetics, they had found a way to repair the gene permanently by using nanoids to splice the defective gene with a repaired gene. Later on, the nanoids helped to create the first hybrid—adding additional genes with new functions.

As Caroline watched her team pore endlessly over the data and listened to the verbal tennis match going on between Felicity and MOUSE, she thought about dropping in on Anton again. She didn’t like using shock treatment on him but it was the only thing that seemed to work. The shocks were mild in comparison to some of the barbaric testing the other facilities had performed on the Indigene.

An internal voice reminded her of what she was: a genetic scientist first, then a moralist. The reason she’d got into science in the first place was to find ways to improve life. To do that, she needed to study and run tests on subjects. Finding solutions to the world’s worst health problems, ageing and organ replacement/regeneration didn’t happen by magic, no matter what the naysayers claimed. Then there was the cosmetic side of health—nothing to do with prolonging life, but the demand for it was overwhelming, and profitable. Genetics was good for everyone.

Caroline left the bickering behind and went to check up on Anton. She really needed to get some answers about his DNA, and quickly: she had just heard that the new test subjects had arrived and were being held in a room two floors below. They couldn’t be kept indefinitely.

Armed with her DPad, she arrived at the room where Anton was being held. Before she went in, she spoke briefly to MOUSE. Then she walked confidently into the room. She’d lost much of her fear of Anton as the deadline loomed. She needed to give Deighton what he wanted, and quickly. Caroline was fighting for her own future.

On the DPad she scrolled through the list of stories about Earth’s most recent history and picked out a news story that reported on the first changes to Earth’s atmosphere.

‘I want to show you something,’ she said, holding the tablet up in front of Anton.

He turned his head in her direction, and without making eye contact, spoke to her in a strange, ethereal way. ‘What do you want, Caroline?’

An odd sensation rippled through her when Anton used her name. She projected one of the stories onto the ceiling of the containment bubble so he could read it more easily.

 

Forecasters have recently noted some alarming changes to the atmosphere on Earth. Reports confirm that the ozone layer has fully depleted but the force field, recently activated around the Earth, is holding steady. Sources say that the air quality is beginning to deteriorate, but not enough to cause widespread panic. However, the World Government has ordered that mandatory breathing masks be put into worldwide production, effective immediately. Charles Deighton, CEO of the World Government, said: “While we admit the statistics do not look good, there is no reason for panic. We have everything under control.”

 

Caroline flicked to another story, many years later, which reported the discovery of Exilon 5. Deighton was quoted as claiming that the discovery was a gift from God himself.

 

We are absolutely delighted with this discovery and personally, I’m very happy with the work that the government has done so far to secure a future for the people of Earth. It appears as if the planet will indeed support human life.

 

Finally, she found an internal report from a lead scientist on the creation of the first hybrid, dated well before the story on Exilon 5 broke, and kept a close eye on Anton as he read it. His expression didn’t change.

 

The prototype is being worked on as I speak. The physical changes are still minor, and cognitively, it does not appear to be developing as fast as we’d hoped. I’m not sure if the additional genes are working in the way we expected them to. They appear to be latching onto the bottom of the DNA strands, but disengaging a few days later. We need to figure out how get them to merge with both strands.

 

‘I’ve shown these to you because I want you to know where you came from,’ Caroline explained, her tone formal and detached. ‘I need you to understand why you’re here and how you can help us. We’re not trying to hurt you, only to study you so we can create a better future for the billions of people on this planet. What I’m about to show you is a picture of old Earth, as seen from space.’

Anton looked at the projected image above him of a beautiful blue and white planet.

‘And this is Earth as it is now,’ she said and flicked her finger across the DPad screen. The planet was almost unrecognisable—just a grey, dead lump of rock. This second image was probably what Anton had seen as the passenger ship arrived from Exilon 5.

Caroline watched Anton closely, hoping for a response, but there wasn’t a flicker. She selected different pieces of footage depicting the recent struggles for life on Earth, the loss of entire ecosystems, Earth’s general demise. She finished with footage of Exilon 5 that showed the biodomes where the animals lived, and the new technology that eliminated the need for fossil fuels.

‘We’ve changed,’ she said. ‘We’ve learned our lesson, and with your help we can make a real go of it on Exilon 5.’

‘What does any of this have to do with me?’ Anton finally said.

‘Your planet—the one we gave to you—is healthy. Ours is past saving. Our species needs to transfer to Exilon 5, but to avoid the mistakes of the past we must know how you’ve managed to survive there without all the things that we seem to require. Has the planet altered your physiology? How advanced is your brain? I really feel that we can be of benefit to each other.’

‘You tried to wipe us out with your explosions,’ Anton said, this time with more conviction. ‘So, enlighten me—how is that of benefit to me?’

Caroline shook her head. ‘That was a huge mistake, we realise that now. I know our two species didn’t meet under the best of circumstances but some members of our society are hot-headed. There are others, like my team and I, who are only interested in changing things for the better, with minimal interference. That’s where you come into it.’

Her plan to get Anton talking was working. This was the most engaged he’d been since she’d first spoken to him. MOUSE was monitoring Anton’s vitals and brain activity.

‘Our race has nothing to do with yours,’ Anton said angrily, making fists of his hands. ‘We’re not the solution to your problems.’

Caroline smiled. ‘Deighton has told you about your origins: the first generation of Indigenes came from humans and here you are, a second generation with remarkable abilities. We need to learn from you in order to avoid repeating the mistakes that made such a mess of Earth.’

Anton’s eyes widened. ‘What are you talking about? We didn’t come from you.’

‘We’re wasting precious time, Anton,’ Caroline said, sighing deeply. ‘Whether you accept it or not, what I’ve told you is the truth. We need to move on.’

Anton became increasingly alert the longer they spoke. ‘How is that even possible? I can see your brainwaves. They are very different to ours. I was one of the few ready to accept your presence on Exilon 5, but your barbarism and brutality have changed my mind. I now understand why so many of my race barely tolerate you.’

‘Explain to me the differences you see,’ Caroline said, moving in closer. ‘Tell me how you’re able to see and process that information.’

Anton’s face instantly became expressionless. ‘I assume your plan is to kill me. I just hope you make it quick.’

‘I promise that no further harm will come to you. That isn’t our intention. After we’re finished here, we’re going to send you home.’

Anton smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You’re a liar.’

Caroline stepped back from the table. ‘I know I’ve given you very little reason to trust me. Just remember, I’m not the one who conducted countless experiments on you over the last few months.’

‘But you have no problem giving me electroshock therapy.’

A pang of guilt hit her. ‘That was only to make sure you cooperated. The fate of our people—the same people that your first generation once came from—rests in your hands. Please say you’ll help.’

Anton didn’t reply.

MOUSE interrupted. ‘Dr Finnegan, can I speak to you privately?’

‘Not now, MOUSE,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m in the middle of something.’

‘I assure you, it is quite urgent.’

She sighed. ‘It had better be.’

 

 

Anton watched the doctor closely as she exited the containment bubble and left the room. He tried to listen into their conversation but he could no longer hear them. He struggled beneath his restraints. As he did so, the metal bit into his arm for the hundredth time, but each cut healed within moments of occurring. They seemed to have reinforced the restraints—either that, or Anton’s strength had diminished since his capture—probably both. Certainly the nutrients they’d given him had been carefully measured to prevent him from regaining his full physical power. What little blood they’d been feeding him just about staved off the hunger. Currently, he felt he had about fifty per cent of his optimal strength.

In his mind he resisted the doctor’s claims that his elders, and possibly his father Leon, had originated from humans. In any case, her claims raised other questions that he hadn’t thought of before. Why, for example, did both races think of themselves as ‘human’?

While Anton had prepared for the eventuality that he would be killed, the longer they kept him alive the more he believed they had other plans for him. Then there was the doctor’s promise to send him home. Was that genuine, or just a ploy to get him to trust her?

In the first month after his capture, they had kept him in a darkened room. He had repeatedly tried to escape, and almost pulled it off on one occasion. But the humans learned quickly how best to restrain him; then they experimented on him.

In the second month, his blood rations were reduced the more he fought, so Anton learned to reserve his energy for a worthy fight. Different humans carried out even more brutal experiments on him. After each experiment his body healed, but Anton’s mind was fragile, forcing him to regress to preserve what was left of it.

In the third month, new humans began a series of new tests, this time on his mind, in an attempt to ‘understand’ him better. Anton had maintained his regressed state, only returning to full lucidity when the humans pushed him too far. They had attributed his ethereal-like state to the drugs they had been administering, but Anton’s body had quickly become accustomed to the foreign drug and for two months, their medicine had had no effect on him. It was the hunger that kept him their prisoner.

Like his ethereal, withdrawn state, his lucid moments were also a performance, a trick to make the humans believe they were making progress. He figured that the longer he pretended, the longer he would stay alive. He was able to protect himself in the darkest corners of his mind, but the shock treatments had yanked him out of it, and he deeply resented them for that. At first, he had been too far inside his mind for the electricity to affect him. But the doctor had cranked up the charge and the last shock had burned him. A wall of heat bore down on him like an out-of-control fire and his mind struggled with the pain, forcing him to crawl out of his protective space and emerge into the real world. In the time since his capture, he had gone from trying to understand the humans, to feeling uncontrollable anger, to searching for a constructive way to channel his emotions.

Caroline Finnegan wasn’t like the older human, Charles Deighton. Anton could tell by the way she carried herself that she was following his orders. Her fear kept her sharp. He thought about asking her what exactly she was afraid of. When the sentient programme had interrupted their latest discussion, the frustration on her face was clear for him to see.

Anton closed his eyes and tried to hone in on their voices. They were muffled. He diverted all his remaining energy into improving his auditory capabilities. He strained to cast his hearing as far as the doctor, using her emotions to locate her. The auditory bubble resisted at first, then snapped into place around her. Their voices were almost unrecognisable—a tinny, almost echo-like sound—but he could just about make out their words. For the first time in three months, he got the chance to hear something that resembled the truth.

 

 

‘What is it MOUSE? This had better be good,’ Caroline snapped as she left Anton’s room.

‘He doesn’t trust you, but as soon as you mentioned Exilon 5, his serotonin levels increased.’

‘I thought they might. Does he believe anything else I’ve told him?’

‘No,’ MOUSE said, confirming what Caroline already suspected. ‘He has no loyalty to humans. He thinks you are feeding him a pack of lies.’

‘He has to know how important he is to humans’ future survival,’ Caroline said with desperation in her voice. ‘Sure, we can survive on Exilon 5 for now, but given our history, in five hundred years we’ll be back at square one looking for a new planet because we’ve ruined the one we’re on. We’re at the peak of our evolution, but crucially, they’re not. Something else has altered their design and their chemical makeup to make them superior to us. I have to know what triggered that change and how we can replicate it.’

‘Then perhaps, Dr Finnegan, you should just tell him that?’ MOUSE suggested. ‘You might find him more cooperative.’

‘I know. You’re right,’ Caroline said wearily. ‘But what am I supposed to do about Deighton? He was clear that I should keep to a minimum the amount of information I pass on to Anton. Maybe I should just tell him the truth. It’s not like he can share it with anybody. According to your data, he hasn’t attempted to contact anyone. We need to get back in there and see what our test subject can tell us.’

‘Speaking of test subjects,’ said MOUSE, ‘some of our guests from Batch 52 are getting restless downstairs. I woke up the next three subjects, like you asked me to. They are quite talkative.’

Caroline massaged her temples. ‘I keep forgetting they’re down there. Make sure our next stop is the holding area. Continue to monitor any changes to their vitals’—she paused—‘actually, do me a favour and pipe in some of your music. Let’s try to keep them calm. They’ll only be with us until we can determine if they’re a good match for the genetic programme. Oh, and please remember to do a complete wipe on the last batch’s memories before sending them on to Exilon 5. I had awful trouble trying to calm that man down from Batch 50 when he realised he wasn’t on the passenger ship.’

‘On it,’ MOUSE said.

‘We’re so close to creating the new code. I can feel it,’ Caroline said, her brow furrowed. ‘We can’t quit now.’