Author: Laurence E. Dahners
Date: 2016-05-07T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Thriller
Description: “DNA" is the thirteenth book in a series of near future SciFi/Thrillers. Their heroine Ell Donsaii has a nerve mutation that makes her a genius and provides her some astonishing athletic abilities. In “DNA,” Ell’s five-year-old son Zage has become interested in the effects of certain genes on obesity. He’s obtained permission to do research in a university lab where he hopes to test some of his ideas. Work is being done to evaluate the possibility of terraforming the planet Mars by using Ell’s port technology to bring in water, carbon dioxide, and nitrogen from various other worlds in the sola

DNA

An Ell Donsaii story # 13

By

Laurence E Dahners

Copyright 2016 Laurence E Dahners

Kindle Edition

Author’s Note

Though this book can “stand alone” it will be much easier to understand if read as part of the series including

“Quicker (an Ell Donsaii story)”

“Smarter (an Ell Donsaii story #2)”

“Lieutenant (an Ell Donsaii story #3)”

“Rocket (an Ell Donsaii story #4)”

“Comet! (an Ell Donsaii story #5)”

“Tau Ceti (an Ell Donsaii story #6)”

“Habitats (an Ell Donsaii story #7)”

“Allotropes (an Ell Donsaii story #8)”

“Defiant (an Ell Donsaii story #9)”

“Wanted (an Ell Donsaii story #10)”

“Rescue (an Ell Donsaii story #11)” and

“Impact (an Ell Donsaii story #12)”

I have minimized repetition of explanations that would be redundant to the earlier books in order to provide a better reading experience for those of you who are reading the series.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

Table of Contents

Preprologue

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Author’s Afterword

Preprologue

An unusually gifted quarterback, Allan Donsaii had been widely recognized to be startlingly strong and a phenomenally accurate passer. During his college career he finished two full seasons without any interceptions and two games with 100 percent completions. Unfortunately, the pro teams never drafted him for fear that his size would allow him to be dominated by bigger opposing players.

Extraordinarily quick, Kristen Taylor captained her college soccer team and rarely played a game without a “steal.” Usually she had many.

Allan and Kristen dated more and more seriously throughout college and married at the end of their senior year. Their friends teased them that they were only marrying so that they could start their own sports dynasty.

Their daughter Ell had Kristen’s quickness, magnified by Allan’s strength and highly accurate coordination. The child also had a new mutation affecting the myelin sheaths surrounding her nerves. This mutation produced nerve transmission speeds that nearly doubled those of normal neurons. With faster nerve impulse transmission, she had much quicker reflexes. Yet her new type of myelin sheath was also thinner, allowing more axons, and therefore more neurons, to be packed into the same sized skull. These two factors resulted in a brain which had more neurons, though it wasn’t larger, and a faster processing speed, akin to a computer with a smaller, faster CPU architecture.

Most importantly, under the influence of adrenalin in a “fight or flight” situation, her nerves transmitted even more rapidly than their normally remarkable speed.

Much more rapidly…

Prologue

Oxford, England— Professor Band Walla of the Oxford Department of Astrophysics today announced that their research team, upon further analysis of data previously collected, has found additional support for the theoretical work on galactic rotation published by Kinrais and Donsaii.

Vince Buetow felt many conflicting emotions. He was excited to have qualified for his first US Open Tournament, but nervous that his game would collapse under the pressure. He’d felt irritated to realize that his foursome included Ell Donsaii, playing as an amateur who’d gotten in by playing her way through the sectional qualifying rounds. When he’d been walking to the first tee box he’d at first been surprised by the enormous crowd surrounding it. Usually the crowd surrounded the big name players who teed off later in the day. Then he’d realized that this crowd was here to gawk at Ell Donsaii. If he played well in front of these celebrity struck rubberneckers it might seriously increase his name recognition, which would be a plus. On the other hand, once Donsaii’s game collapsed, all these people would disappear. He shrugged, or they might not, they weren’t here to watch her play after all—they were here because she was beautiful, and the world’s best sprinter, and the world’s best gymnast. Being good at those kinds of high-speed sports wasn’t going to carry over into golf though.

On the tee box, the foursome shook hands. Donsaii smiled at Vince and gave him a firm handshake, telling him she hoped he’d play as well as he had at Torrey Pines, the tournament that he’d crushed to qualify for the US Open. Surprised to realize that she was just as pretty in real life as she was in images, Vince found himself liking her despite his earlier pique. He’d never had another player wish him well like that. After all, Torrey Pines had been the best game of his life. Competitors didn’t wish the best game of their life on their opponents!

Vince, carefully controlling his emotions, boomed a nice straight, plain-vanilla drive right down the middle of the fairway to a smattering of applause. He was a pretty big hitter and expected that drive to go more than 300 yards. It’d leave him with a relatively short approach shot to the 402 yard green. As he stepped away from the tee box a hush fell over the crowd. He felt annoyed to realize the crowd was more excited about watching Donsaii address the ball than they were about the nice shot he’d already made.

She looked great, even though she’d dressed to match the men’s PGA dress code in navy blue slacks and a collared shirt. The only thing that might be considered flamboyant about her clothing was some narrow white piping down the outside seam of her pants. She teed up the ball, and to Vince’s surprise addressed it without even a waggle of a practice swing.

He analyzed her swing as she brought it back. Too much backswing, he thought. Her wind up looked like a ballerina twirling. As the club head started forward, he had the distinct feeling it kept accelerating all the way through the ball.

A loud noise make Vince flinch and he lost track of the ball. For the briefest of seconds, he didn’t know what had caused the “bang” that made him flinch.

Then he realized that it had been her club, striking the ball…

The gallery didn’t seem to know what’d happened either. There was some oohing and ahhing, some confused muttering, and an uncertain smattering of applause like you got when the gallery didn’t know whether a shot was turning out good or bad. Vince leaned toward Ted Miller, one of the pros in their foursome who he vaguely knew. “I lost it. Do you know where it went?”

Ted said, “It started right down the middle, but then I lost it too.” He gave Vince an awed look, “Holy shit though! She absolutely crushed it.”

As they started down the fairway, murmurs started running through the crowd. This happened often in tournaments, as people’s AIs (Artificial Intelligences) fed them interesting tidbits about what was going on elsewhere on the course. However, they were in the second foursome. He wondered if something happened with the first foursome, or whether some other national or international event was causing the murmuring.

Then they got far enough down the fairway that he saw a ball lying on the green…

Vince hit a nice approach shot onto the green. He would have been proud of it, but, at twenty-four feet from the pin, it was three times as far from the hole as Donsaii’s drive. He two-putted for a par four.

She drained her eight footer for an eagle.

Sure, she’s a surprisingly big hitter, Vince told himself as they walked to the second tee box, but if she keeps trying to hit her drives that far, her accuracy will be crap. She’s going to be all over the place. He couldn’t get over the fact, however, that she hadn’t looked as if she was straining to hit that drive with everything she had.

The second hole was a little over 500 yards and Vince expected it to tame her.

She almost drove the green again.

Then she chipped to within three feet of the cup and put in her putt for a birdie.

Vince shot a sixty-eight, probably the best round of his life when you considered how difficult the course setup was. Something about having her playing so much better than he’d ever even dreamed anyone could play seemed to take all the pressure off his game. He had to remind himself that he should be excited about how well he was playing.

Instead, he felt more like just one more member of the enormous gallery that had gathered to watch this woman break every record in golf…

***

Jamieson narrowed his eyes at the small Asian man across the table from him. After a pause he rose, “Please, come with me,” he said, trying to sound as polite as he possibly could.

They both got up and left the coffee shop. Jamieson led the way to his car, which he’d driven manually and parked on the street. As they arrived at it, he pulled off his AI headband and lifted the PGR (Photon Gluon Resonance Communication) chip out of the back of it. Opening the back door of his car, he put the chip on the seat inside. He put the now useless AI headband back on so he’d look normal, then turned and looked at the man, raising his eyebrows.

Wang stared at Jamieson in confusion for a moment, then realized what he wanted. He pulled off his own AI headband, removed the chip, and put his chip on the back seat next to Jamieson’s.

Jamieson closed the door, told his car’s AI to lock it and started off down the street toward a little park. He turned to the Asian as they walked, saying irritatedly, “I can’t believe you wanted to talk about that with our AIs recording.”

The man shrugged as if he thought it didn’t matter.

“Look Mr. Weng…”

The Asian man said, “Wang.”

Jamieson waved a dismissive hand at him. “Wang. You’re asking me to kidnap this woman!”

Wang shrugged, raising his hands palm up, “We just need her help for a little while. She’ll be returned to her life unharmed and well compensated.”

“Still, if she ain’t going of her own free will, we call it kidnapping here in the States. Why don’t you just offer her all that compensation you’re thinking will make it okay?”

“We’ve tried, she’s refused our offers.”

Jamieson snorted, “Well, you’re probably gonna think my price is unreasonable then. Kidnapping is a serious crime here and I ain’t even gonna consider it unless there is a lot of money on the line.”

Wang looked at him intently, “How much!”

“I’d want at least twenty grand just to scope it out. Then I’d have to recontact you with a much higher price to actually do the job.”

***

Marcus Turner said, “Go ahead and close the door Vanessa. I’d like to talk to you about something confidential.” When she’d seated herself, he picked up one of the ports they’d been using to sample microbiota in the gut. Holding it up, he said, “I’ve been thinking about these. I think we should be reporting them to the technology office because they may represent a fairly valuable intellectual property. I’ve done a patent search and so far no one’s patented their use in the treatment of obesity.”

“Um, yeah, like a nonsurgical gastric bypass? I’ve been thinking about that, but have been worried that there might be some significant health effects from sucking stuff out of your gut. We wouldn’t just be removing the food they’d eaten, but also all the enzymes the body’s secreted in the process of digestion—enzymes that the lower part of the intestine probably reabsorbs.”

Turner blinked a couple of times, startled with the realization that her mind had gone down a different path than he’d been considering. He gave a brief laugh, “I was thinking along different lines. A balloon that could be blown up in the stomach to make the patient feel full. Trying to alter the gut microbiota by inserting bacterial species associated with normal weight. Adding nutrients that support Bacteroides and inhibit Firmicutes.”

“Oh,” Vanessa said, taking her own turn to be surprised by an unexpected idea. She tilted her head, thinking, “Maybe we should be trying to patent both ideas?” She frowned, “There’s been some experience with a surgical procedure somewhat similar to the idea I mentioned. Essentially, they put in a tube through the abdominal wall into the patient’s stomach that lets him or her suck out some of the food they’ve eaten. It seems kind of immoral to eat more than you need and then suck it out and flush it straight down the toilet, but I’m not sure that it’s a whole lot worse than eating more than you need and then carrying it around as fat. The patients do lose weight. There are some health effects, but they apparently aren’t severe. If it didn’t require surgery, that would probably make it safer and more palatable for a lot of patients.”

After a moment’s thought, Turner said, “Yeah, what we submit to the technology office should incorporate all these ideas.” He frowned, “However, just because my patent search came up negative doesn’t mean that someone hasn’t been doing this somehow. Perhaps someone who bought some ports and used them for unauthorized treatment of their own obesity. If anything has been written up about their experiences, it essentially means this can’t be patented. So,” he lifted an eyebrow, “I’d suggest we both spend some time searching the medical and nonmedical literature, blogs, etc. to be sure that hasn’t happened.”

“Okay.”

Turner noticed that Vanessa looked uncomfortable. Rather than saying something he just waited a moment to see what she would say.

Finally, she cleared her throat a little, “Um, I probably should have said something before, but the idea for using ports in the G.I. tract wasn’t really mine.”

Turner drew back a little, “Whose idea was it?”

“Zage Kinrais.”

“Who?”

“The kid whose dad is on the math faculty.”

“The one you took on a tour of the lab?”

Vanessa nodded, “He’s been over here several times actually.”

Turner made a discarding motion with his hand, “Just because he said something that gave you the idea for using ports to survey the microbiota of the gut, that’s not the same as actually having the idea of using ports for that purpose.”

Vanessa frowned, but didn’t say anything for a couple of moments. Then, apparently firming her resolve, she said, “No, it really was the kid’s idea. He’s a freaking genius.”

“You’re telling me…” Turner shook his head doubtfully, “that this three-year-old kid actually said we should,” Turner lifted his hands and made air quotes, “‘have people swallow ports so we could sample their microbiota through them’?”

Vanessa nodded reluctantly, “He did.”

Still unbelieving, Turner said, “Really? He said it with full comprehension of what it meant and you think he’ll remember it later? The idea was truly his? So much so that we should make him a co-author on the paper?”

Vanessa nodded again, though she didn’t speak.

“Come on!” Turner leaned forward, “I don’t even remember anything from when I was three. Even if the kid said something like that, I’m sure he didn’t really know what he was saying.”

“Actually, he’s four now. Maybe he won’t actually remember any of this, but I’d be surprised. And he really did know what he was suggesting. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever known—smarter than any adult I’ve ever known, not just kids.”

Turner snorted, “Smarter than me too, I guess you’re saying.”

Vanessa shrugged, not actually confirming that she thought the kid was smarter than Turner… but he could read between the lines.

***

John Simon glanced at the President, “You should also be aware that D5R’s subdivision, Quantum Biomed, has successfully connected the optic nerve of a blind man to cameras in order to give him sight.”

President Stockton’s eyes widened slightly, though Simon thought she tried to suppress the response. She never seemed to want to look too impressed by something done by Donsaii or her people. Whatever her internal reaction, nonetheless, she said, “That’s great. Those people are doing important work.”

Simon thought to himself that, even though the President was kind of hardheaded, she seemed to have overcome her vendetta against Ell Donsaii. Mostly through force of will, she seemed to have controlled the emotional responses to Donsaii that she’d displayed in the past. He decided to present his final item. He gave her a querying look, “I assume you know that Donsaii qualified for the U.S. Open that started today?”

Stockton gave a snort that seemed to encompass amusement, derision, and disgust all at once. “Yeah. She really sandbagged us that day we played with her. There’s no doubt that she’s a very good golfer. A lot better than she let on, but she won’t have a chance playing against the pros.”

Simon stopped himself from saying anything more about Donsaii, instead standing up and saying, “That’s all I have.”

The President’s eyes narrowed, “Wait a minute. Did you mention that because you know how she’s doing so far?”

“Um, yeah…” Simon said reluctantly

“Spit it out.”

“Um, she was twelve under par.”

Stockton’s eyes widened, “Was? Wait, on what hole?!”

“Tenth,” he said quietly.

The President looked like she’d been sucker punched. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me!” she said as she sagged back into her chair. After a moment she roused herself to speak quietly to her AI. Her eyes rose to her HUD (Heads up Display) and scanned back and forth a moment. She looked at Simon, “My God! She’s hitting drives well over 400 yards, right down the middle and onto the greens! She’s been putting for eagle on almost everything but the par threes!”

Simon gave a small nod, “Yeah, it’s just mind boggling. If she putted as well as she hit those unbelievable long shots…” he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Stockton’s eyes glanced back up at her HUD, then back to Simon, “One or two putts per green! That’s not bad putting.”

“No, but compared to what she’s doing on her long shots…”

Chapter One

Pinehurst, North Carolina—The US Open Golf Tournament results have gained the attention of the world. Ell Donsaii, accepted by many to be the world’s greatest athlete but not known to be a golfer, stunned everyone merely by qualifying to play in the Open. Now, however, she has carded a twenty-one under score of forty-nine! This on a course set up, as is usual for the US Open, to make it very difficult to even break par. In fact, the lowest score achieved by any of the professional golfers playing in the Open today was a two under par sixty-eight. As the world record low score for eighteen holes, until now, was fifty-five, this has certainly set the golf world on its ear. In achieving this score, she made six eagles, three pars, and the rest were birdies…

Holding his mother’s hand, Zage walked across the parking lot at D5R. He looked up at his mother, “What if Dr. Donsaii doesn’t get here before you have to leave?” He didn’t want to sound like a whiny little kid, but he really wanted to meet Donsaii.

Raquel shrugged, “She probably won’t. I can’t stay very long.”

His dad looked down at him, “You really want to meet her, don’t you?”

Zage looked back and forth between his two parents. “Of course,” he said, feeling a little exasperated, “I like science, and she’s the world’s most famous scientist!”

“Kind of like a rock star, to you, huh?” His dad said.

His mother interrupted, sounding irritated, “She’s just an ordinary person! Nothing to get excited about.”

Zage frowned, ignoring his mother’s ridiculous comment. “What’s a rock star?”

“Never mind,” his dad said, glancing at his mother. Zage thought he saw his dad wink at her, then he looked back down at Zage. “If she hasn’t gotten here by the time your mom has to leave, shall you and I stay so you can meet her?”

Zage’s mother exasperatedly said, “Shan!” but before she could say anything else, Zage immediately and enthusiastically overrode her, hugging his dad, “Yes! Yes!” He looked up at Shan curiously, “Don’t you want to meet her too?”

His dad chuckled a little, “I’ve already met her, and she’s much cooler than your mother will admit.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve probably been to this kind of party before, huh?” Zage said, looking up at his dad. His dad was looking at his mother, eyes twinkling as if he’d carried off one of his little jokes. Zage looked at his mother. Her expression combined both irritation and amusement. He decided that his dad thought it was funny that they would get to stay and meet Ell Donsaii when Mom had to go to… whatever thing she was going to. He shifted his gaze to his mother, “Don’t be mad Mom. You get to see Dr. Donsaii all the time at work. This is our only chance.”

D5R’s summer picnic was pretty nice. It being late June, it was a little bit too warm, but hadn’t gotten really hot yet. To Zage’s delight, they’d set up an area where kids could play with some of the cool things they had there at D5R. They had two stations where you could put on special waldo HUDs with the gloves and foot pedals and walk a waldo around on the moon. It took the “trainer” a few minutes to adjust the stirrups short enough to reach Zage’s feet. While he was waiting, a pretty blonde teenage girl got on the saddle of the waldo controller right next to him. To his surprise, in his HUD, when he looked around there was another waldo right next to him. It jerked to life before he had his gloves on and took a step. Then it turned to look back at his waldo.

Their trainer said, “Why don’t you try to walk your waldoes over to that little table? Don’t be surprised if it’s a lot more difficult than you expect it to be. Real waldoes are often much more difficult to control than simulated ones like you might have used at home. In addition, your waldo’s in one sixth lunar gravity and the moon’s surface isn’t exactly smooth.”

The waldo the girl was controlling lurched off clumsily toward the table. At least Zage thought it looked clumsy until he tried to walk his waldo over there. He nearly fell on his first step, barely catching himself. Then he found himself staggering just like the girl’s waldo. He arrived at the table a few steps behind her. Zage was normally so much more coordinated than the kids his age that he pretended to be clumsy so they wouldn’t be embarrassed. Therefore he was astonished to be walking his waldo worse than she was. He realized with surprise that this time he was the one who felt embarrassed!

The trainer tried to make them both feel better by saying, “That was really good! Most people’s waldoes fall down the first few times they try to use them. For quite a few we have to have the AIs walk the waldoes over to the table for them.”

Even though he’d nearly fallen on his first step, Zage doubted that that was true. Probably a few people fell and the trainer was just trying to keep them from feeling embarrassed.

At the table, they used a wrench to unscrew a nut off of a bolt and move it to another bolt where they tightened it back on. The trainer encouraged them to pick up some of the moon rocks sitting on the table and toss them back and forth from hand to hand. Eventually, they were asked to walk their waldoes back to where they’d first found themselves when they’d “strapped in.”

Once they’d taken off their waldo gear, Zage found the blonde girl looking at him. He wasn’t interested in girls, but this one was pretty. He thought she was about ten years older than he was, so he was surprised that she was even noticing him. What he’d read had led him to expect teenage girls to be pretty self-centered, or at least focused on their own age group. She said, “You’re pretty good with a waldo.”

Zage shrugged, “Not as good as you are by a long shot.”

She frowned, “But I’ve used a waldo controller before.” She blinked, “Oh, maybe you have too?”

Zage shook his head. “My first time. I nearly fell down on my first step, so I can’t be all that great.”

She gave him a curious look, “Most people fall down a lot the first time they try to walk a waldo. If that was really your first time, you’re actually pretty amazing at it, especially for your age.” She stuck out her hand, “I’m Jenny DeWitt.”

Zage felt like he should be insulted by the backhanded compliment, that he was good— for his age. Still, a compliment from a pretty teenage girl gave him a warm feeling. Even if he’d wanted to sulk, his mother had always told him to accept compliments graciously. “Thanks,” he said, “does your mom work here too?”

They’d started walking outside to where the picnic had been set up. Jenny said, “My dad. He’s a waldo driver…”

Zage interrupted, “Your dad’s Carter DeWitt?!”

Jenny nodded.

In an awed tone, Zage said, “He’s not just a waldo driver, he’s the head waldo driver. Everyone says he’s the best!”

Jenny shrugged as if a little embarrassed, “What’s your mother do?”

Zage was struck suddenly by the fact that he didn’t really know what his mother did. That seemed a little embarrassing, but he just hadn’t wondered about it until Jenny asked him. “Um, I don’t really know. She seems to go a lot of places for D5R. Sometimes she’s gone for days at a time, sometimes she works from home.” He shrugged, “I get the feeling that she just does whatever Dr. Donsaii needs her to do.”

“Oh, that must be cool. She probably gets to see Dr. Donsaii quite a bit.”

“Yeah,” Zage said, thinking about how his mom always said Donsaii wasn’t as amazing as everyone thought she was. “Doesn’t your dad see her sometimes?”

“He’s seen her a few times and he worked with her one time when one of the space planes got hit by a meteorite. She actually drove a waldo while they were all trying to save some of the passengers. My dad says she’s the best waldo driver he’s ever seen, even though she hardly ever drives one.” She paused a moment, then said wistfully, “He says she’s way better than he is and a lot of people say he’s the best.”

Zage didn’t miss the awed tone in Jenny’s voice. He wondered why it was that everyone in the world thought Ell Donsaii was amazing, but his mother didn’t. His mom actually worked with Donsaii fairly often; maybe she was the only one who got close enough to see the woman’s flaws? Whatever those flaws might be…

Zage was standing in line to get his food when a stir in the people around him made him aware that something had happened. He turned to look the direction that he’d seen other people’s eyes swinging. He saw a slender woman about the same height as his mother walking in from the parking lot. Her skin was lighter and she had longer reddish blonde hair. From a distance, watching the way she walked, he’d thought for a second it was his mother. But as she got closer he saw that not just her complexion and her hair were different. Her face was shaped quite a bit differently as well.

Of course, he’d known that from pictures he’d seen of Dr. Donsaii.

He thought a moment about how his mother’s friend Amy had a lot of characteristics in common with his mom. Because Amy’d been babysitting for Zage forever, he was fully aware that Amy was about the same height and had the same color hair, but had lighter skin than Raquel. Amy wasn’t as slender as Raquel either. Not that Amy was fat by any means, but Zage’s mom was really slim, yet surprisingly muscular.

Though he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, during his excitement about seeing Ell Donsaii, Zage realized that he’d filled his plate. He grimaced, thinking, That’s more than I should eat. He looked up at his dad and saw his dad watching Donsaii as well. “Let’s go find a place to sit,” Shan said.

As they walked out amongst the picnic tables, Zage saw that people had gathered around Dr. Donsaii. He wondered if there would be so many people crowded around her that he wouldn’t get to meet her. It must be kind of difficult having all these people wanting to talk to you all the time, he thought with a little sympathy. And this is where she works, with people who see her pretty often. It must be even worse when she goes other places.

“There’re some seats here if you’d like to join us?”

Zage looked around and saw it was the blonde girl, Jenny. The one he’d driven waldoes with. She was sitting next to a man with dirty blonde hair and across from a redheaded woman who looked quite a bit like her. Zage looked questioningly up at his dad who said, “Sure, thanks.” He leaned forward to shake hands with Jenny’s dad, “I’m Shan and this is Zage.”

“Carter,” the man said, “and this is Abby and Jenny.” He looked interested, “Are you Shan Kinrais?”

Shan nodded.

The man grinned, “Where’s Raquel?”

Shan said, “She had to go, but Zage here really wanted to meet Donsaii. I told him I’d hang around with him so we could see if he could shake her hand.” He shrugged, “We really don’t know anybody, so we appreciate the invitation to sit with you guys.”

Carter glanced at Jenny, “Apparently Jenny met Zage earlier.” He lifted an eyebrow, “She says he’s a pretty good waldo driver.”

Zage felt his dad looked questioningly at him. He shrugged, “Jenny and I drove waldoes together. She’s a lot better than I am.”

Jenny said, “I’m not really much better, and I’ve done it before.” She looked up at Shan, “He’s really very good.”

Carter said with a smile, “She should know, she’s pretty good herself.”

Jenny looked a little embarrassed. As if to displace the conversation away from that topic, she turned wistfully towards the people around Donsaii, “What do you think our chances are of getting to talk to Dr. Donsaii?”

Carter looked a little regretful himself, “I don’t think they’re too good. The poor woman isn’t even getting to eat!” He winked at Shan, “I imagine Dr. Kinrais here has a pretty good shot though, since he wrote that paper with her.”

Zage’s head spun to look up at his dad, Dad wrote a paper with Ell Donsaii?! Why didn’t I know about this? Despite the electricity running up and down his spine, he resisted the impulse to immediately ask his AI to bring up information about it. His mother constantly harped on how rude it was to do that in the middle of the conversation.

After they’d finished eating, Zage’s dad said, “Shall we go get some dessert?”

The DeWitt’s got up, looking with anticipation at the huge table of desserts. Unhappily, Zage shook his head and said, “I’d better not.”

The DeWitt’s looked at him curiously, and Zage could tell that they were surprised a kid who wasn’t even five yet was on a diet, even if he was fat. They didn’t say anything though, just headed on to get themselves some dessert.

Zage’s dad looked at him sympathetically, “Sticking to your diet, even tonight?”

Disconsolately, he said, “If I go off it tonight, I’ll find another excuse to go off it tomorrow.”

His dad looked over towards Donsaii, “You still want to try to see if we can talk to Dr. Donsaii?”

“No, she hasn’t even gotten to eat yet.” Zage sighed, “Having everyone in the world wanting to talk to you must be pretty hard. I’d still love to be like her, but I guess some things about it wouldn’t be so great.”

Shan shook his head, “No… you’re right about that.”

***

Lying in bed, Zage stared bemusedly at one of several reports his AI’d found about the “K-D paper.” It appeared to be a pretty big deal in the worlds of physics and mathematics. He’d even heard of it before, he just hadn’t known that it stood for Kinrais-Donsaii. He looked briefly at the paper itself, but never having been very interested in mathematics, he hadn’t really been able to follow much of it.

Apparently his own father had recognized that, by Donsaii’s equations, gravitational forces should drop off slightly over immense distances. This made it possible to explain the galactic rotation paradox without positing dark matter. Since they’d published the paper, experimental evidence supporting their theory had been mounting.

Since it was an area of science that Zage wasn’t interested in, he didn’t feel surprised that he wasn’t aware of it. But, since he’d expressed his immense admiration for Donsaii on multiple occasions, he wondered why in the world his parents hadn’t mentioned that his own father had written a paper with her! Surely they didn’t really have to “try to run into her at a company picnic.” If his mom worked with her and his dad knew her, they could just invite her over for dinner or something, couldn’t they?

Then he thought about how life must be for Ell Donsaii. Probably everyone who ever knew her “invited her over to dinner.” Maybe his parents just didn’t want to impose. Especially just because their kid wanted to meet her.

If I were her I’d probably go into hiding somewhere, he decided.

***

Jamieson admitted to himself that Steve Jacobs and the little security team that watched over Donsaii were more effective than he’d expected. It’d been ten or eleven years now since Jacobs and Donsaii had interviewed him back in Boston and Jamieson had never really gotten the sour taste of rejection out of his mouth. After all, it had been obvious to him that he could easily kick the asses of any two members of that security team. However, Donsaii hadn’t wanted to hire him because she thought he was “too aggressive.”

Jamieson had tried to explain to the idiot girl that if you wanted real protection, you needed someone like him. Someone who could break a few heads. It was stupid to hire a bunch of softies like she had on her team. Somehow, the girl herself had wound up challenging him to a fight with pugil sticks. When he’d gone into it, afraid he might hurt her, she’d gotten in a few lucky blows; then she’d said she didn’t want him on her team—as if he wasn’t good enough!

After that Jamieson had tried to attack Jacobs. He didn’t want to break the girl in half fighting her, but he just couldn’t stand being humiliated that way and wanted to show her what he could really do. The next thing Jamieson had known he’d been in the emergency room getting his head scanned. One of Donsaii’s team had been with him there and said that Donsaii had put Jamieson in the ED, which had to be bullshit. He didn’t know what had actually happened but suspected that Jacobs’ entire security team had jumped him. Donsaii’d actually paid all his medical bills. Probably afraid he’d sue her.

He’d hated the bitch ever since.

Despite his dislike, Jamieson had never done anything more than just think about how sweet it would be to show her how much she actually needed someone who could really provide security like he could. But now… now someone was going to pay him to show her how she needed better security! Talk about a win-win-win situation: one, he could embarrass Steve Jacobs; two, he could show Donsaii why she should’ve hired someone like Jamieson in the first place; three, the little Asian guy, Wang, was going to provide Jamieson with a huge payday.

However, he’d just gone out to her little farm in Chapel Hill to scout things out. Wearing night vision goggles and black clothing, he’d walked onto Donsaii’s farm from the little neighborhood to the west. He really hadn’t expected her security team to be on top of things at all. He’d thought he’d be able to wander around the farm, scouting things out, then exit the same way. Unfortunately, he’d only gotten about half way to the farmhouse when one of the guards he’d seen walking a circuit turned and started coming his way. Then two more came out of the little outbuilding behind the main house. Realizing that they must be using infrared detection technology, or perhaps some kind of sophisticated sonic tracking equipment, he’d turned to leave. By then he’d realized he’d have to use more sophisticated technology to carry off his scouting mission.

To his astonishment, more infrared signatures exited the neighborhood that he’d just come in through. In a few minutes, Jamieson found himself surrounded by six people. Doing his best to disguise his voice, he thought he’d managed to sell them a story about being hired as a reporter who just wanted to get some imaging of Ell Donsaii’s home. Though they’d seemed suspicious of his story—after all it was 2 o’clock in the morning—they’d only checked his fake ID, taken his picture, and then let him go.

All in all, though he was impressed by how quickly they’d responded to his presence on her property, they should never have let him go. Jamieson sure as hell would’ve done some intensive questioning if he’d been in charge of security! There wouldn’t have been any of that touchy-feely Mr. Nice Guy from him.

***

Ell was due at D5R, so she’d gone down into the basement, exited the secret door, and changed her identity from Raquel to Ell. She’d taken the tunnel from the house she, as Raquel, shared with Shan and Zage over to “Ell Donsaii’s” farmhouse. Climbing out of the basement, she briefly said hello to Bridget, then headed out to her car to ride to work.

In her old Ford Focus on the way to work, she checked her rearview and saw Randy’s old pickup following in the distance behind her. Allan, her AI, spoke in her ear, “The rocket approaching 61 Virginis has identified a planet in the habitable zone.”

“Oh,” she said, thinking, “Virginis is the one with two huge planets that are within 0.7 AU, right?”

“Yes. Actually within 0.6 AU.”

“And the planet you found in the habitable zone? What’s its distance?”

“1.1 AU.”

“So,” Ell said, musingly, “a little farther from Virginis than Earth is from the sun. And Virginis is a little cooler than the sun too, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell anything yet about how thick the atmosphere is?”

“No, but spectroscopy does show oxygen.”

Another living world! Ell thought.

Rather than stopping in her office, Ell headed right down to the research area at D5R. There she found Roger, but not Emma. “Rog’, you seen Emma?”

He looked up at her, “This morning at breakfast,” he said giving Ell a wink, “but not since then. What’s up?”

“I’ve got some news. I’ll give her a call.”

“Hey! I like news too,” Roger said, trying to look hurt, but not carrying it off very well.

Ell grinned at him as she turned to walk away, “Well then, find her, give me a call, and I’ll talk to both of you.”

When Roger and Emma showed up in her office a little while later, Ell said, “Please close the door.”

They looked at one another with a little surprise. Ell almost always kept her door open, but after that moment of disbelief Roger closed it.

Ell gestured at the big screen on her side wall, saying, “Allan, please put up some video from BC4.”

The video opened as the rocket descended beside the huge herbivore it’d filmed when it landed. Emma squeaked in excitement, “Another living world?!” Then, when the video showed one of the enormous flyers sailing overhead, she turned accusing eyes on Ell, “That rocket’s been there for quite a while if you have all this video! How come you didn’t tell me?”

Ell shrugged a little uncomfortably, “I decided that I didn’t want people to find out about new living worlds until I was pretty sure they didn’t have inimical intelligent life.”

Emma looked hurt, “Not even me?”

Now Ell felt even more uncomfortable. “You know what they say, ‘A secret’s not a secret if two people know it.’”

Emma looked a little stubborn, “You told me about the sigmas.”

Ell said, “Not right away, besides, you kind of figured it out and forced my hand.” She tilted her head, “Besides, since then I’ve gone to prison trying to keep these kinds of secrets!”

Emma looked abashed. She glanced back at the screen, then said, “BC4, is that the fourth planet of Beta Canum Venaticorum?”

Ell nodded, feeling even guiltier because she was only telling Emma about Beta Canum when she’d just learned that there was an oxygen bearing planet around 61 Virginis.

Roger said, “I assume from the fact you’re telling us about BC4 that you’re sure it doesn’t have any species with high level intelligence?”

“Pretty sure, but I was hoping you guys would have a look around too before we brought the whole team in on it. I know you’re busy with Quantum Biomed, but you’re the only ones I really trust with something this touchy.”

Emma grinned at Ell, “Well, I’m eager to have a look.” She glanced slyly at Roger, “Roger here, he’s probably too excited about the new blood oxygenator.”

“Am not,” Roger said, giving Emma his best offended look, “I’ll be happy to give BC4 the once-over, and I won’t feel the need to make any disparaging comments about my wife before I do it.”

“Now, now you two,” Ell said with a little laugh, “play nice. You’re starting to make me feel like a babysitter.”

***

Zage’s AI, Osprey, spoke in his ear. “You have a call from Vanessa Jenkins.”

“From Dr. Turner’s lab?!” Zage said excitedly, “Put her on… Hi Vanessa.”

“Hi Zage, I’m calling you because Dr. Turner and I are writing up our first paper about using ports to sample the microbiota in the intestine. Since it was your idea, we think we should list you as a co-author. Would you like to be on it?”

“Really?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I really didn’t do anything. Just made a suggestion.”

“Sometimes the idea is the most important part of the paper.”

“Sure I’d be proud to have my name on it. When are you going to start writing?”

Vanessa suddenly felt guilty that they’d completely written a paper and it would be obvious that asking about putting his name on was an afterthought. “Um, we’ve… mostly written it already.”

“Great! Send it to my AI so I can look at it. I’m sure I’d love to have my name on it.”

Now Vanessa guiltily wondered whether Zage knew that all co-authors were supposed to read and approve of a paper before it went in. Turner had only this morning finally agreed to put the kid’s name on the paper before she sent it. She wondered how Turner would react if the kid expected them to hold up the submission for his approval. Mentally she shrugged, she could just put the kid’s name on and submit it. If the kid actually wanted to change something like the spelling of his name, she could send in a revision afterward. “Okay, our latest draft should be hitting your AI any moment.”

“Um,” Zage said, “I was going to call you anyway.”

“What about?”

“Um, I was hoping to come spend a little more time in the lab. Do you think that’d be okay with Dr. Turner?”

Since, the last time she’d seen him, the kid had implied that he’d learned as much as he’d hoped to learn by visiting the lab, Vanessa felt a little surprised. “I think that’d be fine, but I think I’ve already shown you pretty much all the things we do here in the lab. What were you interested in seeing?”

“I… I was hoping to use your DNA sequencer.”

Vanessa blinked, “To do what?”

“Um,” he said reluctantly, “I’m wanting to search my DNA for some of the sequences from AD-36.”

“AD-36?” Vanessa said, thinking that sounded familiar but not immediately recognizing it.

“Human Adenovirus thirty-six. One of the obesity viruses. I know I’m shedding the virus, but I can’t figure out how it could be making me fat. I’m wanting to see if some bits of its genome got incorporated into the DNA of some of my cells. That way I could be expressing a peptide or something that makes me gain weight.” There was a pause because Vanessa was too stunned by what Zage had said to respond immediately. Responding to the awkward gap in the conversation Zage continued, sounding a little embarrassed. “I know. I know… I sound like I only care about my own obesity. Really, I do care about other people…” Then he continued in a sadly quiet tone, “But I hate being fat. I’d really like to do something about it. If I solve it for me, I think I’ll have solved it for a lot of other people too.”

“Uh, sure,” Vanessa said, her mind having caught up with what the boy was saying. “Your parents are okay with this?”

“Well… I haven’t talked to my dad about it yet, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. I’ll get him to call you, okay?”

“There’ll… be some costs associated with running the sequencer. You’d probably better make sure your dad knows what you’re wanting to do and is willing to pay for it?”

“They’re spending a lot of money to send me to some fancy school. I’m pretty sure they’ll be willing to pay for this too.”

“If they’re paying for an expensive school, they might not have that much left over. You’d better be sure you check with them!”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” The kid said, sounding a little concerned. “I’ll check, but, I think it’ll be okay.”

Vanessa hung up, her head whirling—like it usually was after she talked to the Kinrais kid.

An hour later Vanessa got a message from Zage on her AI. Attached, it had an edited version of the paper she and Dr. Turner had written. The kid had corrected a math error, suggested citing five additional papers, rewritten several sentences to make them clearer, and suggested another paragraph for the end of the discussion. That new paragraph concisely laid out additional work that could be undertaken with the new methods.

Vanessa glanced towards Dr. Turner’s office as she wondered how she was going to bring this up.

***

Jamieson sighed and stretched. He’d been watching the Donsaii farm from under some large bushes in the yard of one of the houses on the farm’s eastern border. It being the weekend, he’d thought surely he’d see Donsaii out walking around. He’d seen Bridget Spalding, the woman that lived with Donsaii, out jogging and working in a garden. Of course, the security team made its rounds regularly, so he saw them. But, if he hadn’t known that Donsaii lived here, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to tell it from his observations.

He’d been under the damned bush since early in the morning and now it was a little after midnight.

Three days and three evenings with no joy.

Deciding once again that there was virtually no chance she’d leave the house at this hour of night, he packed his rucksack and got ready to leave. Tomorrow I’ll try the southern side of the farm, he thought. He’d started with the northern side where the road passed, then done the western side. The southern side would be his final scouting.

By now, he certainly knew his way around the farm and he absolutely understood the security team’s routine. Even though they tried to vary when and how they made their rounds, they couldn’t help getting into some ruts.

Jamieson had purchased some of that new port conditioned outerwear that was all the rage. A little testing had confirmed that if he blew cool air through the clothing, he became practically invisible to infrared night vision goggles. With Jamieson’s understanding of the layout of the farm and of the security team’s strategies, he felt almost certain he could make his way into the house, snatch Donsaii, and make it back out undetected. He’d need to drug her and put her in her own cooled bag while he carried her out, but Wang had said he could source the drugs.

It was a huge pain in the ass being so careful when he really thought he could have carried this out weeks ago without such extensive preparation. The wide-ranging prep was because the downside of getting caught kidnapping was pretty huge and the enormous payday Wang had promised made it worthwhile.

Jamieson just had a couple of niggling worries:

First, he kept thinking about how gotten his ass busted when he’d first met her. Although he kept reminding himself that he’d been going easy to keep from hurting her, and telling himself that they’d just caught him by surprise, he also kept remembering that he’d been pretty angry toward the end. He’d gone after her and she’d bopped him a couple of times. Then he’d gone after the head of her security team pretty hard, but Jamieson was the one who wound up in the emergency room. Her whole team must have jumped me, he told himself once again, but somewhere deep inside he had a feeling that Donsaii was the one who put him there.

Second, even though he’d seen her drive in and out of this place on her way to work, he just couldn’t get over the feeling that she didn’t actually live on the farm. He shook his head, I see her come back from work in the evening and she doesn’t leave till morning, she has to live here.

Those two unsettling thoughts kept coming back and were a big part of the reason that he’d committed so much time and effort to his extensive scouting program. He did not want to be caught by surprise.

***

Ell sighed, “And you’re sure this was Jamieson, the same guy we interviewed for a job on the security team back in Boston?”

Steve shrugged, “About as sure as I can be without trying to get some kind of a DNA match. The fake ‘reporter’ ID he showed us doesn’t match his face.” Steve murmured to his AI for a second, “Here are images and sound clips of Jamieson from his interview back when we talked to him in Boston, and,” he murmured again, “here are images and clips from the first night. That’s the time he actually came on the grounds and we stopped him.”

Ell watched both of the video images and listened to the clips. She shook her head, “He looks older of course, but I agree it’s got to be the same guy. What do you think he’s doing? Working some kind of revenge because I didn’t hire him a decade ago?”

Steve shrugged again, “I have no idea. It’s hard to believe that if he wanted retaliation, he didn’t seek it right away. But, if he’s really the kind of guy who could hold a grudge that long, I could imagine he waited so long in hopes we might not recognize him. If Mary hadn’t said she thought it was him I might not have figured it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?”

“Didn’t want to come to you clueless. I’ve spent the past few days trying to get information about what he’s been doing for the past ten years, but his name’s common enough that searching the net just brought me a lot of garbage about other people with that name.”

Ell’s eyes narrowed, “I can put Allan on it. He can find stuff that standard AIs can’t, but it would help to know what you think we’re looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “If he’s been living around here, that might suggest he really has been stalking you. If he’s been working a steady job at a respectable company, that’d be different than if he’s been working a series of shifty jobs.” Steve tilted his head, “Of course, if he’s been working the kind of disreputable jobs I’m worried about, it’ll be pretty hard to find a record of them.” He lifted an eyebrow, “Unless he’s gotten caught doing stuff that’s given him a prison record.”

“Well, I’ll see what Allan can find. Sometimes he doesn’t uncover anything another AI couldn’t have found, sometimes…” Ell shrugged, not elucidating Allan’s successes. She looked out around the farm grounds, “Since then, you say he’s been hanging around the periphery of the farm?”

Steve nodded, “He carefully stays off your property so it’d be hard to justify going after him. I’ve considered contacting the homeowners whose land he’s actually been on. I could suggest they call the police?”

There was a moment of silence while Ell thought about it. “If we leave it like it is, we’ll know what he’s doing. If we have the police hassle him he might start using tactics we can’t detect.”

“If the police hassle him, maybe he’ll decide it’s not worth the trouble.”

“I don’t know,” Ell said musingly. “You guys went out and got in his face that first night and it didn’t dissuade him. My impression of him, even if that impression’s ten years old, is that he thinks he’s God’s gift to guerrilla warrior stuff. He’ll probably be even less impressed with the police than he was by you guys… since he thinks he’s invincible.”

“Are you saying we should prove to him that he’s not invincible?”

“No, I don’t want to smack him down until he’s done something that justifies being smacked. Could be hard to explain to the police.” She turned her intense gaze on Steve, “On the other hand, I’d like you guys to be completely ready to deal with him if and when he does. Come up with contingency plans, do some drills, buy equipment if you need to…”

“If we’re doing drills while he’s out there watching us, he’s going to know what we’re planning.”

“Do ‘em while he’s not watching.”

“He might have hidden cameras we don’t know about.”

“Do your drills on paper. Any physical things that need to be practiced, go do them somewhere else.” She gave him a little bit of an impatient look, “This is your thing Steve. It’s what I hired you for. You’re supposed to figure it out, not me.”

Steve drew himself up, though it was barely visible, “Yes ma’am.”

Ell snorted a laugh, “Don’t you go ‘yes ma’aming’ me!”

Steve grinned back at her, “Sorry, I do know it’s my job. Bouncing things off of you was helping me figure it out, but I’ll admit it was kind of lazy.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be so grumpy. Bouncing them off of me lets me give you guidance on what I think the parameters of your response should be.” She paused for a second, then said, “When you’ve figured out what you’re going to do, tell me about it so I can be sure I’m comfortable with your plan.”

***

Ell felt pretty odd as she walked into the meeting with Team Teecee. She was going to be giving them exciting news, but withholding a secret that, to her and she was sure to them, would be even more thrilling. They were only meeting about once every three to six months now, having gradually cut back from the weekly meetings they’d had back when the aliens on Tau Ceti were a brand-new finding.

Still, it was good to see her old friends. Although the team had expanded and subsequently had some turnover since it had originally gotten started, Wheat, Piscova and Norris were all still active members. As they happily greeted one another, Ell found it hard to believe that the team had first formed to study the aliens on Tau Ceti nearly 9 years ago.

Goldie, Silver, their kids and their tribe all seemed to be doing fairly well at their new location. Dr. Wheat reported concern about what the volcanic ash occluding the upper atmosphere was doing to the vegetation. The parabolic reflectors D5R had put up in the region around the Yetany tribe’s new location were doing a good job of greening up the vegetation in that area and were probably even keeping the temperatures a little warmer. However, this wasn’t helping the rest of the continent where global cooling induced by the dust in the stratosphere was making the plants, and therefore the animals higher in that food chain, somewhat sick.

They argued for a while about whether they should bring in more parabolic reflectors to help a bigger area or whether they should interfere at all in a change that Mother Nature had wrought. This led to a disagreement about whether they should try to establish a system to warn against or even prevent asteroid impacts in the future.

Ell mostly listened, but when things had calmed down a little, she cleared her throat and said, “I’ve got some news…”

Most of the people in the room turned to look curiously at her, but Harold Wheat’s head turned sharply and his eyes widened with excitement, “Another living planet!”

Ell nodded, still feeling guilty that she’d never told them about the sigmas. “The fourth planet around Beta Canum Venaticorum.”

Piscova brightened, “Do they speak?”

“No, sorry. No signs of intelligent life that I’ve seen. Let me tell you what I do know.” As she spoke Allan put up some of the video clips she’d prepared showing the riotous jungle greenery of BC4. “The atmosphere sounds breathable at sixteen percent oxygen, seventy-five percent nitrogen, and five percent argon, but carbon dioxide’s too high at four percent. Unfortunately the pressure is about 188 times that of Earth, so we couldn’t possibly live there in anything but an extremely hard shelled suit or an indoor environment. The gravity’s 0.78 G so it’d be comfortable if it weren’t for the density and CO2 concentration of the atmosphere.

The animals,” here Allan began putting up images of the fauna, “are quite a lot like we imagine the dinosaurs to have been. Well, except for the fact they don’t have a head and neck separate from their body. Their mouthparts are right on the trunk like a crab’s. They’re immense and they have some huge flyers,” she waved at the big screen where an enormous flyer sailed across, “this particularly big one’s ten meters, wingtip to wingtip.

“As with Tau Ceti and Alpha Centauri, the biome is DNA-based, giving further support to the panspermia hypothesis…”

Ell weathered a storm of questions, though the people in the room had a hard time tearing their eyes away from the screen. When the queries started to die down, she said, “So, I was wondering if you guys would like to take over investigating BC4, or, whether you’d like for me to try to find a new group to study this place.”

She turned to look at them and found shocked expressions on their faces. “Of course we want to study this planet,” Wheat said for the group.

When Ell had finished turning over control of the rockets on BC4, she stopped in her office to take care of a few small things that needed her personal presence and then started for home. Once she was in her car, she said, “Okay Allan, show me what you’re seeing at Virginis 3.”

Because he knew she was riding in a car and didn’t need to see the world around her, Allan put up a full binocular 3-D view of the planet through her HUD contacts. She once again saw a blue and white world. With the closer view this time she saw quite a bit more green than before. Oxygen, water, and chlorophyll green, Ell thought. I’d imagine life on this planet must be DNA-based as well. It’d be interesting to encounter life with some other basis, but I’ll have to admit I’m still hoping for a world where we might be able to live.

To Allan, she said, “Any radio transmissions?”

“No.”

So, Ell thought, either no intelligent life, or they’re not advanced enough to use radio. Or… they exclusively use something better than radio such as PGR. “Have you seen any regular structures?”

“Yes.”

A shiver shot over Ell. Intelligent life! I hope they’re not like the Sigmas… “Show me what you’ve found.”

Allan zoomed the picture in from space in order to give Ell a perspective as to where on the planet she was looking. It looked like she was flying in toward a point at a latitude of about thirty degrees. The zoom shot in toward the coast of one of the landmasses. Ell’s breath caught as it approached what appeared to be a natural harbor, a classic location for a city here on earth. A regular grid-like appearance became evident, but everything looked monochromatically green. The grid wasn’t as straight and perfectly regular as you might see with a modern human city. Things wavered back and forth. Mostly she saw hexagons like a honeycomb, other times triangles, very occasionally the kinds of rectangles you saw commonly in human construction. She wondered if it could be some kind of non-intelligent organic construction like insects created, or intelligent construction not rigidly constrained to ninety degree angles like so much of humanity.

The zoom had stopped approaching so Ell said, “closer.”

Allan said, “We’ve reached the current limits of resolution.”

Sure enough, he did zoom in further, but the image pixelated and Ell really couldn’t tell much more. Sadly, she said, “It looks as if… as if there was a city there, but it’s overgrown.”

“That’s possible,” Allan said. He didn’t venture anything more, evidently feeling that he didn’t have enough evidence.

“Can you show me any more of them?”

The overgrown city in the natural harbor vanished out of Ell’s HUD to be replaced by another one, and another, and another…

Was there intelligent life that’s since died out? Or, could they be building their cities out of green materials? This didn’t seem likely since the edges of the structures looked fuzzy and rounded as if they were covered with vegetation. Maybe those are living cities, but the people there like to grow plants over everything? Or, maybe there’s a natural, non-intelligent cause for this semi-regular honeycomb arrangement of the vegetation?

She didn’t want to have Allan land the rocket while there was any possibility that an advanced but hostile intelligent race lived on the planet. She didn’t want them detecting the rocket during its descent. “Keep orbiting and observing for now. Don’t adjust the rocket’s position with anything stronger than low velocity hydrogen jets. Let me know immediately if you see anything moving that might be a vehicle. Otherwise record any other findings that might indicate intelligent life.” She thought for a moment, “Go ahead and deploy another rocket with a high end optical package on a course that will also be captured into V3’s orbit. We’ll want to examine those structures at higher resolution before we even think about landing.”

She thought for a while longer, then said, “Send another rocket to capture into orbit with a small and a human sized waldo. I have a feeling we’re going to want to land and poke around this place with something that has hands.”

Chapter Two

“Mom!” Zage said, “You aren’t really going to make me go to kindergarten, are you?”

His mother gave him an impatient look, “We’ve talked about this before Zage.”

“That was about preschool! I’ve looked at the kindergarten curriculums. They don’t teach anything I don’t already know!

“They teach you how to interact with kids your age. Besides, this is a school for gifted kids. They’ll be ahead of the kids in your preschool.”

Zage narrowed his eyes, “You really think they’ll be learning at a college level like I am?”

“Well… probably not. But they’ll be very smart kids and they’ll be your age. It’s really important for you to learn how to get along with your peers.”

Zage rolled his eyes emphatically, “Why would I need to know how to deal with children who are of my chronologic age?! If I do need to learn to interact with people, it’d make more sense for me to learn to interact with ones who have a similar degree of maturity.”

“Just because you know more than kids your age doesn’t mean you’re emotionally more mature. Besides, if we throw you in with kids who’re chronologically a lot older than you… they might be mean. That’s certainly happened to a lot of other precocious kids. Human beings have a long history of cruelly treating those who are different from them for any reason.” She sighed, “It’s just as true of adults as it is of children.”

“But I’m not going to learn anything!”

“You can educate yourself with online classes. There no one’ll know how old you are. You’re only going to go to kindergarten for a few hours a day—there you can work on learning to get along with people.” Ell gave him a serious look, “At the very least, you should try to learn how kids your age normally act. That way, if you ever have the need, you’ll be able to fool people into thinking you’re just an ordinary kid.”

Zage gave an exasperated sigh, “I don’t know why you couldn’t have just sent me to some kind of summer camp! All their brochures talk about ‘socialization.’”

His mom grinned, “Next summer.”

Zage stared at her in horror. “Nooo…”

***

Carol and the rest of the Martians gathered around the big port Phil had been sent home to Earth through. For a moment she thought wistfully about how she wished her husband was being sent back through the port to join them again on Mars. Unfortunately, though Phil was healing okay from his hip fracture and testing hadn’t shown any serious neurologic problems, pretty much everyone had concluded that sending people through ports should remain an emergency procedure for now.

What they really meant, she thought, was that they wanted to wait and make sure the guinea pig, Phil, stayed healthy before they put anyone else through it.

However, as long as they had the large port they’d built for Phil there on Mars, they’d decided to send some more large items through it. First of all, they needed some big things there on Mars and didn’t want to wait for them to be flown from earth by rocket. Second, before they sent another person through a port across interplanetary distances, everyone thought it would be a good idea to have cycled a lot of material through the big port to be sure those kinds of large high-energy ports weren’t going to fail with a person halfway through them.

Major Epstein had been talking to the people on earth through his AI and now he said, “Okay folks they’re about ready to send it through. Stand by.”

The yellow light started flashing on top of the big port. A minute later the port and its radiator fins turned frosty as liquid nitrogen circulated through to prepare it for the excess heat of activation. The light started flashing red and a second later the same big titanium can that they’d used to send Phil back to earth came shooting out of the port, sliding down the rails and out onto the floor.

The frost that had gathered on the radiators had flashed to steam and Carol felt a brief wave of heat from the big port. Then she was moving with the rest of the team over to the can. Diane and Mark popped the latches and they opened it up to look at the big gray pile of filmy fabric lying inside. Dan plucked at the fabric, making its gossamer nature evident. He said, “I think we should carry it outside in the canister. If we lift it out of the can in here, it’s going to flop everywhere and be a huge pain in the ass to handle.”

A little while later, four of them had suited up and were carrying the canister out past the last of the three—now deflated—graphene spheres that plugged the tunnel and functioned as an airlock. Once they had the canister outside, they attached some ropes and dragged it up onto the relatively flat plain at the top of the Valles Marineres.

They unlatched the canister and dumped out its contents, then quickly latched it up to keep the dust out of it. The filmy fabric had thoughtfully been folded so a couple of the tie-down straps were immediately available and they staked those out. Because the atmosphere was so thin, the Martian winds couldn’t generate much force. However, once this thing was inflated it’d weigh very little in comparison to its enormous cross-section. Even those wimpy winds would easily be able to blow it away then. The Major held a brief conversation with people back on earth and a few minutes later the fabric started bulging, twisting and unrolling as gas poured into it through ports.

As it unfolded, and unfolded, and unfolded, gradually spreading across the plain, Carol’s eyes widened. She turned to Lindy Thompson, “I know they said this dome thing was going to be big, but holy crap, how big?”

Lindy looked at her, “The multilayer graphene it’s made out of is only 120 nanometers thick. In theory they could have packed a graphene dome big enough to cover nearly 2 square kilometers into the canister. In practice, it was too difficult to fold the material up that tightly so the dome’s diameter is only a little over a kilometer.”

“That’s still huge!” Carol breathed.

Lindy said, “I’m supposed to do an interview with one of the news services back on Earth once we’ve got it inflated. Do you mind capturing the video with your AI?”

Carol shrugged, “Sure.”

Once the dome had extended itself fully, they had to rotate it a little around the first stakes because part of it was hanging out over the Valles. Then Lindy had them open some of the ports that connected into the oceans of Europa. Those filled the bottom of the dome with about a foot of water. Even though the water would pretty securely hold the dome in place, they walked around and staked down the rest of the dome’s circumference while it continued swelling up into the air.

Lindy stood in front of the enormous, somewhat translucent dome and Carol adjusted her position so that both Lindy and the dome were well framed in the image obtained by her AI. Rupert Alton, the newsie from Earth who was doing the interview, cleared his throat and said, “You ready ladies?”

Lindy and Carol both nodded.

Rupert said, “Carol, I’ve got to remind you not to move your head. We need our image to stay stable for the viewers.” He gave a little laugh, “Don’t want our audience getting seasick.”

“Oops, sorry,” Carol said, reminding herself to move only her eyes.

“Okay then.” Rupert said, “Folks, this is Rupert Alton, bringing you an interview with Dr. Lindy Thompson, NASA’s botanist on the Mars mission. Dr. Thompson, framed in the picture behind you is what appears to be an enormous dome, or perhaps the top half of a balloon. Can you tell us about this new project you ‘Martians’ are undertaking?”

“I’d be happy to Mr. Alton. What you just said is essentially correct. What you’re looking at is an enormous dome shaped balloon with graphene walls. As you know, graphene is astonishingly strong and so the material of our dome can be very thin leading to its translucent appearance. The dome’s about a kilometer in diameter and a couple hundred meters high.”

“And what’s its purpose?” Alton asked. “I see what looks like an airlock there on the side facing us. Are you Martians planning to move out of your tunnels and into the dome?”

“Oh, no! We’re living in the tunnels because there’s so much radiation here on Mars. We still need to live underground most of the time or we’d quickly accumulate an overdose in this environment. In the dome the radiation level would still be high so it’d be just as unsafe to live in it as it is on the surface. No, this is an experiment aimed towards determining whether it might be possible to terraform Mars someday.”

“By ‘terraform’ I understand you mean endeavoring to make Mars more like Earth so that people could possibly live there?”

“Yes Sir,” Lindy said, reverting to her military speech patterns. “What we’ve been doing so far is using ports donated by Portal Technology to bring carbon dioxide into the dome from balloons floating in the atmosphere of Venus and nitrogen from the atmosphere of Titan. We also have ports bringing in water from the ocean underneath the icy surface of Europa, the sixth moon of Jupiter.”

Rupert said, “I can understand why you might want to bring water to Mars, but why would you be bringing carbon dioxide?”

“Well,” Lindy said, “the only place in the solar system that has a lot of free oxygen is earth. We don’t want to steal Earth’s atmosphere to create an atmosphere here, so what we need is something we can convert into an atmosphere using photosynthesis. For that, we need four things—light, photosynthetic organisms, carbon dioxide and water. Back home on earth, the oxygen we breathe is created by plants that use sunlight to make carbohydrates and oxygen out of carbon dioxide and water. If we can get photosynthesis going here on Mars, conceivably we can use CO2 from Venus and water from Europa to make both food, i.e. carbohydrates, and oxygen for our colonists.”

“That sounds like a great way to do it. What kind of plants are you going to start growing? Potatoes?”

“Well, as you know, we’re already growing potatoes in underground tunnels here on Mars. But, what we’re expecting to use to create atmosphere will be cyanobacteria, which are often called blue-green algae. It’s thought that cyanobacteria may be what originally converted Earth’s atmosphere from carbon dioxide to oxygen about six hundred million years ago. Potatoes and other plants that are more familiar to us need oxygen themselves, so they won’t do well in an atmosphere that has high concentrations of carbon dioxide and virtually no oxygen. We won’t be able to grow those kinds of plants until the cyanobacteria have done their job. Also, remember we’re doing this on the surface of Mars where there’s a lot of radiation. Bacteria tolerate radiation a lot better than multicellular plants.”

“Is there enough light here on Mars? I would think there’d be less than there is on earth, and even though the graphene dome is fairly translucent, it must block some light.”

“You’re right,” Carol said, “but fortunately we can use parabolic mirrors in near solar orbit to send large quantities of sunlight through small ports suspended at the top of the dome.”

“That sounds problematic in its own right,” Rupert said. “Since radiation is a major problem here on Mars, won’t those ports be bringing in even more high energy solar particles?”

“Oh, no. It’s hard to reflect high-energy particles and the parabolic mirrors don’t reflect it at all, so the ports really don’t get any dangerous radiation to transmit, only light.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a pretty foolproof plan. Do you anticipate any problems?”

Lindy shrugged, “There are a number of problems that might turn out to be almost insurmountable. Though we think the plan I just outlined would work, it would take an enormous number of ports to move enough carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and water to Mars to make a significant change. Essentially, if we used 1 meter diameter ports, we’d need 100,000 of them running full time for about a decade to generate an atmosphere even close to the density of Earth’s. Those ports’d be drawing about six megawatts each, which is enough power to run a locomotive. We’ve all gotten used to electricity being very cheap now that ET Resources’ parabolic mirrors in solar orbit let us generate cheap steam energy. As opposed to on earth where we then use deep space cooling to refrigerate the steam to keep from heating the earth, we’d actually like to heat Mars, so we can bring water from Europa, heat it to steam, generate electricity with it and then just vent the steam into Mars’ atmosphere.” Lindy shook her head again, “Nonetheless, we’re talking an enormous commitment of resources over a very extended period of time to move such huge volumes of material. You can see why we really need to do some experiments to be sure that we can get our cyanobacteria to convert that CO2 and water into oxygen before we start down this path?”

“Even if you do all that, isn’t Mars still going to be too cold and have too much radiation?”

“Well, remember that the CO2 that’s going to be a huge component of the atmosphere early on is a greenhouse gas, so it should help warm up the planet. Even after we get the atmosphere up to an earthlike density, it’s going to take a long time for all that carbon dioxide to be converted to oxygen. However, you’re right to be concerned that it might not be sufficient to warm up the planet to a temperature that we’ll be happy with. We’re hoping to get a little data about the heating we might expect from this dome, but we won’t really know for sure until we do the tremendously expensive experiment of actually trying to terraform. You’re also correct that radiation will remain a problem. A thicker atmosphere will absorb a lot of radiation, but on earth we also count on the magnetosphere to deflect a lot of the radiation. Unfortunately, Mars isn’t magnetic. We think we’d still need to live underground most of the time, going up to the surface only occasionally.” Lindy shrugged, “It may be wishful thinking, but we can hope for some future technological advance that’ll let us block the radiation by other means.”

It didn’t take much longer to finish up. Carol was impressed by how well Alton had managed to lead the interview, getting Carol to answer questions that he’d obviously known the answer to, while giving the listener the impression Alton was learning right along with them.

***

Zage liked his new kindergarten teacher, Ms. Binder. She was plump, so he thought she was less likely to look down on him for being fat. He’d lost a little weight on his diet, but feared he’d never be thin. Besides, Ms. Binder seemed to have a permanently happy smile on her face and was able to control her classroom full of gifted but energetic five-year-olds without getting irritated.

Nonetheless, even though almost every kid in the room could already read, they were going over the letters right now and Zage was bored out of his mind.

With a quick sub-vocalization he popped a screen up in the HUD of his left contact. He’d been doing this in preschool and had gotten pretty good at keeping a sliver of concentration on what the teacher was talking about. If Ms. Binder asked him a question he’d still be able to answer it.

Knowing of Zage’s interest in biologic solutions to big problems, Osprey, his AI, popped up a news story from Mars before Zage actually got around to directing a query. With fascination, Zage watched the description of the test dome they were using to evaluate the possibility of generating an atmosphere on Mars. He wasn’t sure why anyone would want to live underground on Mars, but he thought that just the idea of biologically generating an atmosphere on Mars from the plentitude of unwanted CO2 on Venus seemed pretty cool. He knew a lot of the space radiation on Mars came from the sun, so he wondered whether people on Mars could be out and around at night when the planet itself would be blocking the sun.

Zage had never heard of a portal a meter in diameter. All the ones he’d seen or heard of had been pretty small, so he looked them up. To his surprise, he learned that the biggest one anyone had manufactured so far was one used to bring an astronaut back from Mars. Even that one wasn’t actually a meter in diameter. This brought him to looking up Portal Technologies, the company that made the ports.

The hair stood up a little bit on the back of Zage’s neck when he learned from his reading that all the ports in the world were manufactured in North Carolina by Portal Technologies. They were manufactured there because they’d been invented by Ell Donsaii out at D5R! He’d known about her company ET Resources and their waldoes and space ventures, as well as Quantum Biomed and Allosci; he just hadn’t been aware that she also invented ports.

Idly, Zage asked where Ell Donsaii lived, thinking it couldn’t be too far away. His AI brought up a map and pinpointed her residence on it. Zage hadn’t used maps very often, so it took him a minute to realize that she lived on the little farm immediately north of his home!

Although his mom had taken Zage to school that morning, she was working that day so Amy picked Zage up from kindergarten and brought him back home. Zage immediately went upstairs and looked out the north window of his bedroom. He couldn’t see a house to the north because of the trees, but his AI diagrammatically projected Donsaii’s house right over the intervening trees in his HUD. At his request, the AI made the trees disappear and let him look at Donsaii’s house as if they weren’t even there.

He couldn’t believe he lived so close to his hero.

Zage had an online class so he couldn’t go right away, but he found it a little hard to concentrate on the class while he kept thinking about an excursion to see for himself.

Amy looked up as Zage came down the stairs with his dog Tanner, “We’re going outside for a while,” he said. “Get some exercise.”

Zage didn’t spend much time outdoors, which was probably why Amy looked a little surprised. Evidently she thought going out for a little exercise sounded like a good idea. She said, “Great! Playing outside’s really good for you. Do you want me to come along?”

Zage shook his head, “No, we’re just going out for a little walk around. Chase some squirrels, see what else lives around here.”

“Okay,” Amy said, watching them go out the kitchen door. She went back to what she’d been doing, but after a little bit she lifted her head thoughtfully and said to her AI, “Get me whoever’s on duty for the security team.”

A moment later she heard Mary’s voice, “Amy, what’s up?”

“Zage and Tanner went out for some exercise a few minutes ago. Be good for them, but I thought you guys should be aware.”

There was a pause, evidently for Mary to check her screens, then she said, “Oh crap! He’s headed north.”

Amy had expected the security people to be excited that Zage was out getting some exercise. Startled to get this response instead, Amy said, “Is that a problem?”

“Normally it wouldn’t be,” Mary responded. “Unfortunately, we’ve had a guy hanging around and watching Ell’s property for the past ten days or so. Today he’s been hanging out on the southern edge of the farm. At this moment he’s sitting in some brush just on your side of the property line. The kid’s headin’ pretty much right for him.”

A little stab of apprehension shot through Amy. “You guys are just letting him sit there and watch?!”

“There isn’t really a law against it,” Mary said in an unhappy tone. “We ran him off when he came on to Ell’s property a while back, but since then he’s been careful to stay on the neighbors’ side of the property lines.”

“But he’s actually on Ell’s property right now too! The property where she actually lives!”

“And if we go out there and hassle him for being on ‘Shan and Raquel’s’ property, it might tip him off to Ell’s other identity. We’ve just been keeping a close eye on him.” She sighed, “He claims he’s just there watching because he’s a fan and a reporter. If so, he should get bored and leave. We’re worried he might be there scouting for… something that’ll make us unhappy, but we don’t have any proof. Essentially, there’s not much we can do unless we decide we’re going to start taking the law in our own hands.”

“What if Zage gets too close to this guy? Should I be trying to call him back?”

Mary didn’t respond for a second and that gave Amy a spike of fear. When she came back on, she said, “Sorry, I’ve been activating the rest of the security team and letting Ell know what’s happening. Don’t call Zage back; we don’t want Zage to know that someone’s tracking his every move on GPS. Let’s just hope he stops before he gets far enough to run into this guy or that he wanders a little bit to one side or the other. If something happens, we’ll be all over it.” A moment later she said unhappily, “It looks like he’s on a straight line path to Ell’s house! I hope he’s not purposefully coming over for a visit.”

Amy got her AI to tap into the security team’s feed so she could watch what was going on herself. When her HUD displayed a map of the area she initially wondered if she should be upset to realize that the purple “A” icon on the map represented Amy herself. Then she decided she was glad they knew where she was. She could see green icons for the three members of the security team that were stationed in one of the little outbuildings next to Ell’s farmhouse. More green icons were located in the security team’s houses just west of Ell’s farm, presumably the people who were off duty, but on call. A purple “E” icon at the upper right edge of the map indicated Ell was off the edge of the display as were the three green icons of the team following her that day. A purple “Z” icon representing Zage was heading north from the Kinrais’ house on a straight line towards Ell’s farmhouse.

The glowing red “J” icon representing the intruder lay directly along Zage’s apparent path!

Bored beyond belief, Jamieson had actually dozed off. He woke up when he heard a young boy’s voice behind him say, “This way Tanner.”

Jamieson turned slowly so as not to catch anyone’s eye. A fat little blonde kid and a chocolate brown dog were making their way through the woods toward him. The canopy of the trees above had choked out enough light that there wasn’t a whole lot growing on the ground to block the kid’s path. However, the kid and dog were still having to climb over fallen trees and broken limbs as well as making their way around the trunks.

The dog was panting and their feet made a lot of noise as they went through the deadfall. Jamieson felt a little bit embarrassed that he’d managed to doze through their approach until the kid had called out to the dog. When the boy got close, Jamieson thought, The kid looks kinda familiar. Despite the thought, Jamieson couldn’t think who the kid looked like. Jamieson didn’t know any kids. He wondered if it might have been a kid he knew when he was growing up. Or possibly the kid looked like some adult Jamieson knew?

The dog rocketed off after a squirrel, barking madly. Now the kid was calling the dog again. They were making enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood! Well, maybe not. Jamieson shifted his eyes around, reminding himself that there weren’t really many houses here on the south side of Donsaii’s farm. Donsaii lived on close to twenty acres and the place just south of it where Jamieson was sitting must have something like 6 to 8 acres. Jamieson had walked along the border of that property to get to where he was set up today, but hadn’t paid much attention to the house on it. The kid was traveling on what looked like a straight line from that house, so Jamieson wondered if he was staked out on the kid’s parents’ place.

Without noticing Jamieson in his camo, the kid went by close enough that Jamieson almost could’ve reached out and touched him. Jamieson felt disgusted by how chubby the kid was. If I ever have a kid that packs on the pounds like that one, you can bet I’ll put him on a diet and exercise program! The kid kept walking right across the border and onto Donsaii’s property. I’d teach him a little situational awareness too. No kid of mine would walk right past someone, even if they were camouflaged.

Jamieson hunkered down to watch with interest what Jacob’s security team was going to do about this oblivious kid rambling onto Donsaii’s property.

Nothing happened until the kid was almost to Donsaii’s house. Then one of the female members of the security team stepped out of the team’s little outbuilding and walked over to the kid and his dog. The kid didn’t shy away. The guard squatted down, presumably so she wouldn’t look threatening, and said something to the kid.

As Mary squatted down next to Zage she did her best not to look over to where Jamieson was hiding. She positioned her head directly on the opposite side of Zage’s from Jamieson and spoke quietly, “Hi, you live over there?” She made a little chin lift toward the Kinrais’ house to the south.

Zage glanced back over his shoulder, then said, “Yeah. Is this Ell Donsaii’s house?”

Mary nodded, “Yeah, she’s not home right now though.”

“Are you a guard?”

“Uh-huh, but we’re mostly here to protect against grown-ups who might be here doing something they shouldn’t be. Since Dr. Donsaii’s not here, she wouldn’t mind if I took you inside for a cookie and a glass of milk. Would you like that?”

Zage nodded. Mary stood, again resisting the strong temptation to look at Jamieson’s little hide. She and Zage walked over to the porch, up the steps, and after Allan had unlocked the door, they went inside. She heard Steve’s voice in her ear over her AI, “Mary! What the hell are you doing?!”

She walked Zage over to the little breakfast table and seated him, saying, “Just a minute while I go find the cookies.” She headed for the kitchen, leaving the kid sitting there looking around wide-eyed. Mary thought he looked a little disappointed at the ordinary furnishings of the farmhouse. Once she’d put a little distance between herself and Zage, she sub-vocalized to Steve, “Bringing the kid in for milk and cookies. We don’t want him thinking Ell’s a jerk!”

“We don’t want him stopping by to shoot the shit anytime he feels like it either!”

“Relax Steve. Before he leaves, I’ll make sure he understands that we can’t have him coming here all the time.”

“Okay,” Steve said doubtfully.

Mary’d been rummaging around in the kitchen, hoping to find some home-baked cookies, but not having any luck. She realized the likelihood of a single girl like Bridget making cookies and keeping them in a jar had to be low. Eventually she found some milk in the fridge and an open bag of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano’s in a cupboard. She headed back out to where Zage was sitting. She poured him a glass of the milk, then looked at the date on the bottom of the bag of cookies. “Oh-oh, these cookies are pretty old. I’m afraid they’re going to be stale.” Great Mary, way to over promise and under deliver! she thought to herself.

“That’s okay.” Zage said wistfully, “I shouldn’t be eating cookies anyway.” He looked at the glass of milk from which he’d had a few sips. “Really, I shouldn’t drink all of this either. I hope you won’t think I’m rude.”

Mary blinked, startled by the concept of a child turning down a cookie, even if it was stale. She’d known the kid was supposed to be on a diet, but considering that he was still pretty heavy, she’d thought it was something the adults talked about but the kid didn’t follow. In any case, she decided she certainly shouldn’t encourage him to drink more milk or try one of the stale cookies. Instead, she said, “I hope you understand that an awful lot of people try to come see Dr. Donsaii here?”

Zage nodded, a serious look on his face.

“We don’t let adults even get onto the property, ‘cause some adults… they don’t mean well.”

Zage said, “You mean, they might do… bad things?”

Mary nodded, “So I’m making an exception today ‘cause you’re a kid, and a neighbor, and Dr. Donsaii’s not home. But… well, we really can’t have you coming over or bringing your friends.”

The kid looked sad, but not belligerent. “I understand,” he said, pushing the glass of milk away. “I probably should go.”

Once she had Zage and his dog back outside, Mary found herself really wanting to do more. After all, she’d been around Zage since the night he was born. She thought of him as family, even though she’d pretty much stayed out of his sight since a little after he’d turned one. “Would you like me to take you on a little tour of the grounds here?”

“No thanks,” he said, disappointment evident in his voice. “Tanner and I’ll just head back home, I guess.”

The kid turned around and started walking back towards Jamieson. Mary watched him go, wishing she could do more for Zage and wondering what Jamieson thought of this whole incident. Hopefully he thought they were just being friendly to the neighbor kid.

Jamieson had been astonished when the guard hadn’t run the kid and his dog off. Sure, he’s just a child, but what kind of security team would let even a child into the house of the person they’re supposed to be protecting? What if the kid was carrying a bomb or something crazy like that? It wasn’t unheard of.

He sat there unbelieving for fifteen minutes, then the front door opened. The kid, the dog, and the guard all came back out, just as friendly as they could be. The guard said something else quietly to the kid while Jamieson wished he’d brought a parabolic microphone to let him hear. The kid shook his head and he and the dog started walking back toward Jamieson.

Jamieson slitted his eyes since they were one of the most recognizable features in camouflage. Again the kid walked right by without noticing Jamieson sitting there. Once again, Jamieson thought to himself, There’s something familiar about that kid.

The kid had been gone for several minutes before Jamieson tumbled to it.

That’s Donsaii’s kid!

He brought up the video of the kid going by and went back and forth through it. Sure as hell! Fat, dirty blonde instead of reddish hair, he doesn’t look a lot like her, but it’s there… Then he realized, That’s why the guard was so nice!

Suddenly Jamieson realized that he needed to know whether the kid actually came from the house back behind him. If he came from somewhere else and had just walked across the property like Jamieson had, Jamieson had to know that.

He eased back through the bushes and started after the kid.

Back in the guard’s outbuilding, Mary and the others frowned as they saw Jamieson pull back and start after Zage.

“Dammit!” Steve said over the all-team connection. “Do you think he’s realized who Zage is?”

Randy said, “He came in over the Kinrais property. Hopefully he’s just decided to leave and is going out that way.”

“Immediately after Zage left that way? That’s too much of a coincidence!”

Mary’d been switching the video feed from camera to camera over on the Kinrais property following Jamieson as he moved along. She sent the feed to the rest of them along with the map tracking Jamieson. “He isn’t following right behind Zage. He might just be leaving.”

“He’s waited to leave until after dark the other times.”

As Jamieson walked in the kid’s trail, he realized that if he was correct and this was Donsaii’s kid, the security team would have systems in place to watch this property as well as the “official” Donsaii residence. He may not think much of Donsaii’s security team, but he was very aware of how many times missions foundered on overconfidence. I’ve got to act like I’m not following this kid just in case they actually are monitoring me!

He turned off to the side, heading for the border of the lot like he’d come in. The east border was closer to the house and the path the kid was following, so that’s the one he went for. Jamieson was still able to keep an eye on the distant kid as he and his dog loudly made their way through the woods. The kid even stopped to throw sticks for the dog a few times. Jamieson carefully stopped and stood motionless every time the kid turned around. As expected, the boy never noticed him.

Jamieson fished in his bag and pulled out one of his PGR connected micro cameras. He pulled the sticky off the back and stuck it to the trunk of a tree with a view of the back of the house as he walked by, doing so without any excess motion to warn anyone of what he just done.

Sure enough, the boy and his dog went into the house without knocking, confirming that it must be where they lived. Jamieson kept stealthily moving along the border of the lot and out to the road on the other side. On the way he left two more cameras where they’d have a view of the front of the house. When he reached the road, he worked his way along it, keeping to the shade of the trees until he got to where he’d stashed his motorcycle.

Still on their open circuit, Steve said, “Okay guys, what you think?”

“Looked like he just decided to leave in the middle of the day, don’t know why.”

“Seems pretty fishy to me.”

In a depressed tone, Mary said, “He left cameras on trees behind and in front of the Kinrais house.”

“He did?!”

“Aw, shit!”

Barrett said, “Shall I go take ‘em down?”

Ell joined the conversation, “No, leave ‘em there. If we take them down, he’ll know for sure who Zage is. At present, hopefully he just suspects. If we just keep on as we’ve been, hopefully he won’t get any more evidence to support the theory.”

“And if he more than suspects?” Steve asked.

“Then we need to be ready to deal with him if he does something,” Ell said, hard edge in her voice. “He hasn’t done anything but watch so far, and there isn’t a law against that. It does us no harm.” After a pause, she continued, “Believe me, I don’t like it! However, I think he should be treated as innocent until proven guilty. If he proves himself guilty, I want us to be ready to deal with it in no uncertain terms.”

Mary said, “I think we need to have a three person team following Zage like we do you.”

There was a moment of silence, then Ell said, “Yeah… we do. Steve? I imagine we need to hire more people, right?”

“We can do it with the people we’ve got short-term. But if you want to do it long-term we need to hire some people.” His voice took on a warning tone, “It’ll be expensive.”

“Money’s not an issue. Zage… and Shan’s safety is. Cover them both.” There was another brief pause, “And put a small team on my mother too. Hire as many as you need. Spend what you need to get really good people. I imagine the folks you’ve got might need to work some overtime ‘til we hire new. Pay them double-time for it.”

***

That night at dinner, Zage looked up at his parents, “Did you know that Ell Donsaii’s our neighbor?”

His mom said, “Um, yeah, the real estate agent mentioned that when we were buying the house.” Zage noticed that his parents glanced at one another before she answered and decided that for some reason they would rather that he didn’t know. He pondered this for a few seconds but then his mother interrupted his train of thought, “How was your first day of kindergarten?”

Zage blinked at her a couple of times, then said, “Pretty boring.”

His mother looked unhappy and his dad looked irritated. Zage had a feeling that they disagreed about sending him to kindergarten, but if so they never disagreed about it where he could hear. No one said anything for a second, then his mother said, “Did you make any friends?”

“It’s just the first day. Everybody’s getting along pretty well so far.” Zage shrugged, “I haven’t figured out which ones are bullies and which ones are targets yet.”

His parents glanced at one another again, but didn’t say anything in response to what he’d said. “How about your teacher, Ms. Binder?”

“She’s really nice. Really busy though.” His parents didn’t say anything for a minute, so Zage continued, “Did you tell her that I’m just there to socialize, not to learn?”

Zage’s dad barked a little laugh and his mother bit her lip for a second as if she wanted to laugh too. She shook her head, then said, “No, we’re hoping you can have a chance to be just a normal kid for a little bit.”

Zage tilted his head, “Why? I’m not a normal kid.”

His dad said, “The rest of the kids in your school are gifted too.”

Zage shrugged, “But they’re nothing like me.”

“We still think it’d be good for you to have the experience of being a normal kid.”

“How can I ‘have the experience,’ when I know I’m not the same as the others?”

His dad sighed, “Maybe you can’t.” He pursed his lips, “But we think we should… at least try to give you that experience. Put you in the situation and let you have a feel for it. You should have some idea what other kid’s lives are like, don’t you think?”

“I’ve read a lot about it. Can’t I just study it instead of having to go to school and live it? It really seems like a huge waste of time.”

“I hope you don’t talk this way to other people. If you imply that their lives are a waste of time—even if in your mind that’s true—they’re going to hate you.”

Zage frowned, “I know better than to talk that way to them… wait, are you saying that I can’t talk about this kind of stuff to you? That it makes you angry?”

His mother looked stricken, she slid out of her chair and knelt beside him to give him a hug. “No! No, we love you no matter what! We know you’re… astonishingly smart and it makes us very proud. We just don’t want you to lord it over the other kids and have them despise you.” She pushed him back out to arm’s length, “And, we’d like you to know what their lives are like so that you don’t hurt their feelings by saying something offensive out of a lack of understanding.”

Zage shrugged, “Okay. I still think it’s a waste of time, but I don’t hate it.” He consciously decided not to mention how he spent most of the class time researching other topics on his HUD. However, it brought up a question he’d been wondering about, “How come Osprey is so much better than everyone else’s AI?”

His parents exchanged another glance, then his mother said, “You mean because you have a contact with an HUD in it? That’s because they developed them down at Quantum Biomed which is a subsidiary of D5R. Since I work there I was able to get one for you before they came on the general market.”

Zage said, “Well, that too. But, mostly I was wondering about why my AI is so much more capable. I’ve seen the results of other people’s queries and Osprey finds things they’ve missed, does better analysis of what he finds and his graphic displays are way better.”

Again, his parents looked at one another. This time his father answered, “When you started asking so many difficult questions, we decided we should invest in a high end AI for you.”

“Oh, okay.” He smiled broadly at them, “Thanks!”

***

That night, after Zage had gone to bed, Shan turned to Ell, “What if the kid thinks to ask Osprey just how ‘high end’ an AI he is?”

Ell shook her head, “I don’t want to try to tell the AI to lie to the kid. AI’s aren’t very good at it.”

“And if he asks, and the AI tells Zage that he’s got one of only three AIs in the world currently powered by Kylen supercomputers?”

Ell sank back into the couch, staring into the distance. “Maybe I’ll tell him that Ell Donsaii found out how smart he was and she offered to buy it for him.”

“Even though she’s never met him?”

Ell shrugged, “She’s met his mom. She’s rich and felt charitable towards Raquel’s genius child?” Ell’s eyes turned up towards where her son’s bedroom was located in the floor above. “Or,” she said sadly, “maybe that question will be the turning point after which we should tell Zage about our little secret.” After a moment, she continued, “I need to tell you about a little incident we had today. The security team is going to start following you and Zage as well as me.”

She described the incident to him. Shan’s comment started with, “Aw crap…”

***

Heading home for the evening, Turner stopped on his way through the lab, “Vanessa, sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you about the paper. I thought you’d already sent it in, so I just now got around to your message. Good thing you read through it one more time and found that math error. Those other citations were good too. That last paragraph though…” He shook his head, “You’ve had some amazing ideas for further work. While I congratulate you on those, we don’t want to give a roadmap to all the other labs out there. Some of the bigger research groups might beat us to some important results with you pointing the way so elegantly.” He shrugged, “Essentially, the only change I made was to cut some of that last paragraph to keep it from giving away so much.”

He turned to go, but then turned back, “I really should congratulate you on those ideas. You keep having insights like that and you’re going to go a long ways in this field. Good job.”

Vanessa stopped him with his hand on the doorknob, “Um, Dr. Turner?”

He turned back, a questioning look on his face.

“Zage made those changes.”

Turner looked like someone had punched him in the stomach, “What?!”

“That last paragraph, it came from the Kinrais boy.”

Turner shook his head, “I don’t believe that! Somebody must’ve helped him. His dad’s, what, a mathematician?”

Vanessa nodded.

“What’s his mother do?”

“I don’t know. She works out at D5R and I know they do some biomedical research, but none of it seems to be microbial or to have much to do with the gut. When I asked the kid, he didn’t seem really sure what his mom does, but he seems to think she’s some kind of a gofer for Donsaii. Apparently the mom spends a lot of time going here and there troubleshooting things for the company.”

Turner stood for a moment, thinking. Then he said, “I think you better ask the kid who helped him. We don’t want them coming after us later claiming they should’ve gotten credit.”

Vanessa shrugged, “I’ll ask him, but…”

“But, what”

“He really is that smart,” she said quietly. “He came in the other day and sequenced his own DNA to look for viral gene insertions.”

Turner’s eyes narrowed, “He’s using our sequencer! He shouldn’t be doing that, besides, who’s paying for it?”

“His dad deposited some money into the research account for his expenses.”

“And is it enough to cover repairs when the kid breaks the sequencer?! For God’s sake, Vanessa, we can’t have some grade school kid in here playing with our lab equipment!”

“Kindergarten. I make sure he knows what he’s doing with equipment before he uses it but…”

Turner broke in, “Geez! That’s right, he’s in kindergarten! A kid that age can’t know what he’s doing. I don’t care…”

Vanessa interrupted this time, “Dr. Turner, before he came in, he’d read the entire manual for the sequencer. I swear he’d committed it to memory! He knows more about how the sequencer works than I do. When I was trying to show him how to use it, he corrected me on a couple of minor procedural things. Things I’ve been doing wrong because I learned them that way from Ralph when I first joined the lab. Unfortunately, I never bothered to read the manual myself.” Seeing the alarmed look on Turner’s face, she said, “Don’t worry the errors won’t have affected our final results.” She grimaced, “We might have gotten cleaner results with fewer runs though.”

Stunned, Turner stood staring at Vanessa for a moment, then he said, “Maybe I’d better talk to this kid myself next time he’s in here.” He pulled the door open and walked out.

Chapter Three

Ell said, “Allan… Let’s have another look at Virginis 3. Have you seen any other evidence of intelligent life? Especially anything moving around?”

Allan said, “With the improved optics on the new orbiter, I’ve found what looks like roads or paths between some of the city-like structures.”

“Roads?” Ell said as Allan zoomed the view in on two relatively close-together “cities,” as she thought of the hexagonally gridded areas on V3. She could see something passing between the two cities, but it was relatively meandering. It seemed to be following the landscape rather than blowing through it like modern human roads do. It also looked quite narrow. Some animals appeared to be ambling along it, so maybe it really was just a trail formed by the passage of various creatures. She said, “How wide is that road?”

“About three meters.”

The width gave her some perspective. If it’s three meters wide and not very straight, Ell mused, you wouldn’t be able to travel very fast. Maybe it’s more like an animal trail or a country lane that might have arisen on what was originally an animal trail. She asked Allan to pull back so she could stare at one of the cities again. Maybe this is what primitive cities on earth looked like? She thought about that for a moment, then, Well, maybe this was how they were laid out. The structures still appeared to be covered with vegetation and she doubted that earth cities looked like that until after their civilizations had collapsed.

She had Allan bring up some maps of primitive cities on earth including the downtown area of some modern cities like London that still had streets laid out like they’d originally formed—haphazardly. Those old cities on earth were often quite irregular though some sections almost always seem to be laid out rectangularly to some degree. The “cities” on V3 seemed to be both more regular, yet less. There’d be an area of hexagonal cells with some of the hexagons divided into six small triangular cells. Rows of the hexagons often gave way to apparent roads in the three directions that lay perpendicular to the flat walls of the hexagons. Ell’s impression was that there were small lanes or passageways around most hexagons, but that major traffic could follow the larger paths along the three major directions that lay at sixty degrees to one another. Occasionally, some small areas were laid out rectangularly. Rarely did she see a section that just seemed to be wedged in between other segments like she saw on many of the old Earth city maps.

Ell saw animals moving and big birds flying about here and there, both within and without the cities. The animals seemed to be many different sizes and shapes and, other than the fact that there seemed to be more of them in the areas she thought of as cities, she never saw what she thought of as crowds.

In fact, she never saw large numbers of any kinds of animals that looked similar to one another. No herds of meat animals, no congregations of beings that might be meeting in conclave because of their intelligence. She had the distinct impression that she was looking at an ancient city, overgrown with vegetation, and populated by the animals its masters had once kept as pets or food. She couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the people who built the city. Or could it be that one of the “animals” I’m looking at is the race that built this city? And, of course, that they happen to like having all their buildings covered with vegetation.

There weren’t going to be any answers looking down on this world from orbit. I’m going to have to land as a waldo and get in amongst these… animals before I can decide whether they’re intelligent or not, she decided. To Allan she said, “Are the waldoes in orbit yet?”

“It’ll be ten more days,” Allan responded.

But I want to go down now! Ell grinned at her own impatience. To Allan, she said, “Okay, between now and then, please keep looking for any big assemblies of animals that might suggest intelligence. I know you’re relatively certain you haven’t seen any machines, so if they are intelligent their technological savvy must still be pretty primitive, but even primitives tend to have get-togethers.”

Allan said, “Are you including assemblies of different kinds of animals?”

“Yeah, any kinds of assemblies. I should at least look at them.”

***

Vanessa looked up at a knock from the lab’s doorway. Zage and his handsome father were there. “Hi,” she said, eyes on Zage’s dad, “come on in. Did Zage tell you what he’s wanting to do?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s pretty far out of my area of expertise,” Kinrais said with a grin. “Do you think what he’s proposing is at all reasonable?”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes a little, “He told you that he wants to sequence the DNA in some of his cells, looking for genes that might have been left behind by an adenovirus?”

Kinrais nodded, “And that he thinks those viral genes might be expressing peptides that are causing his obesity... Is that even possible?”

Vanessa shrugged, “Crazier things have been hypothesized. Most of them don’t pan out though.”

“No harm in his trying though, right?”

“Um, it might harm your budget?”

Kinrais blinked, then grinned again. He looked at his son, “How about if I set him up with a ‘grant’ of two thousand dollars to do some sequencing with.” He looked back up at Vanessa, “If he wants to spend more than that, he’ll need to write up a report on what he’s done so far.” Kinrais stared back down at his son, “In language I can understand.” He looked back at Vanessa, “Would that be okay? I can just send the money to your research account if you’ll give me the number.”

Vanessa blinked. They must pay these math professors better than I thought if he’s so willing to lay out two grand for his son’s whims! she thought. “Um, and you’d still be paying me for… supervising him?”

“Of course.”

***

Jamieson leaned back in his chair to think. His AI had just finished showing him all the clips of people coming and going from the house to the south of Donsaii’s. His research had determined that the house was owned by a Shannon Kinrais and his wife Raquel. Interestingly enough, Kinrais had actually written a paper with Donsaii. Even more interesting, Raquel was the same height as Donsaii though she had darker coloring, brunette hair, and a slightly bigger nose.

The bitch’s disguised herself, gotten married, moved into the house next door, and had a kid! And nobody seems to know about it!

Jamieson told his AI to arrange a meeting with Wang.

***

Wang sat on the bench in the park like he’d been told. He held his head still as if he was reading on his HUD, but actually his eyes were roaming the area around him. He frequently checked his HUD which was actually sending him the picture from a rear facing camera.

Nonetheless, a shadow suddenly fell over him and a shiver ran down his spine. That damned Jamieson managed to sneak up on me again! He wondered why he found it so irritating. It was a sign of the man’s competence, which was what Wang’d hired Jamieson for. So far the piyan (asshole) had demanded $40,000 in two separate payments just to try to determine whether he thought the job could be done, so it was to be strongly hoped that he was competent. Wang kept wanting to tell his handlers that they should just bring over their own team to capture this Donsaii. However, since they’d lost three teams in years gone by while trying to do just that, he knew what the answer would be. Whoever was in charge back home had decided that they needed a competent native team. Someone who knew the ins and outs of America. Such a person could presumably do this job better, and in a more deniable fashion.

Wang stood up, once again feeling a little intimidated by Jamieson’s large size and impressive musculature. Since the man had once been a Navy seal, Wang was fully aware of just how dangerous Jamieson could be if he wanted. They started walking casually along a trail in the park. Wang thought to himself that if anyone was actually watching them, they would find the pair, a large, sloppily-dressed Caucasian warrior and a dapper little Asian, unlikely.

Jamieson said, “I’ve got a twofer for you.”

“Twofer?”

“‘Two for the price of one.’” Jamieson laughed, “but in your case it’ll be one and a half for the price of two.”

Annoyed by the American’s irritating sense of humor, Wang grated out, “How much?”

“Five million.”

“Five million dollars?!”

“Of course dollars.” Jamieson snorted, “Not yen for Chrissake.”

Exasperated, Wang almost barked out that yen were Japanese, then realized that if this idiot thought he was Japanese that would be one more layer of anonymity protecting Wang’s country. “Five million dollars, far too much!”

“Five million dollars is ridiculously cheap. I’m not only getting you Ell Donsaii, the most famous person in the world,” he lifted an eyebrow, “but I’m gonna get you her kid.”

Wang drew back in startlement, “She not have kid!”

Jamieson grinned at him, “Yes she does. And he’s exactly the lever you need to get her to do what you want. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want him.”

“Where is this boy?”

Jamieson laughed, “I’d have to be an idiot to tell you.”

Wang’s mind raced. If Donsaii actually did have a child, capturing the child as well would be a coup! Nonetheless, he shook his head, “Five million still too much.”

Jamieson shrugged, “Kidnapping’s a capital crime. Six million’s cheap.”

Not understanding what Jamieson was trying to do, Wang said, “No! Six million not cheap. Five million not cheap. Four million not cheap. I pay you two million.”

Jamieson snorted, “You don’t understand. I don’t want to do this. It’s too dangerous. If you want me to even consider it, your next bid needs to be seven million.” He laughed, “Or, you can try to lowball me again… then it’ll be eight million.”

Finally grasping what Jamieson was doing, Wang paused to think. His country would be happy to pay a lot more than seven million—if they got Donsaii—Wang just didn’t want to give Jamieson that much. “Okaaay,” he said, dragging the word out, “one million now and six million on delivery.”

Jamieson grinned at him, “Four million now and four million on delivery.”

Wang closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, Eight million! “Okay,” he said resignedly.

Jamieson clapped Wang on the shoulder. He said, “Nice negotiating with you. Three million in gold, and one million in hundred dollar bills. Let me know when you’ve got it. Oh, and I’ll also need these drugs.” He handed Wang a list and walked off into the woods, leaving the smaller man fuming on the trail.

***

Ell said, “Allan, have you landed the little waldo on Virginis 3 yet?”

“It’s descending now,” he responded.

“Let’s call him ‘Virgwald.’ Give me a view out of his eyes. You’re bringing him down outside the city, correct?” Although Ell didn’t really care which city he brought it down outside of, she assumed that he was bringing it down near the one he’d first shown her surrounding a bay on the coast. That was the one they’d spent the most time looking at so far.

The view that popped up on Ell’s HUD showed mostly green landscape, though she could see the blue of the ocean in the distance. Allan said, “We’re coming in at a low slant that should keep us below the horizon until we land about one kilometer from what appears to be the edge of the city.”

As the view swung in closer, Ell could see that Allan appeared to be bringing the waldo down onto one of the paths that meandered from city to city. At present they were swinging over a large field, or at least what Ell thought looked like a field. It was covered with plants and Ell had the strange feeling that they were cultivated; however, they looked like there were many different types of plants growing in it. Back on earth, Ell was used to seeing fields where all the plants were of the same species, so seeing an area with many kinds of vegetation didn’t fit her expectation. In fact, the field was irregular in shape and undulating. The more Ell thought about it, the more she wondered why she even had the feeling that it was a farmer’s field.

She decided the plants were too big to call it a meadow and, though not organized, didn’t seem disorganized enough to think of it as being “wild.”

But, on the other hand, it didn’t seem orderly enough to have been cultivated by a farmer.

Ell was almost all the way across the field when she realized that there were a couple of animals down there, both of which she thought were gazing curiously up at her. I couldn’t really see their eyes though, so I’m not sure why I thought they were looking at me. Even if they were looking at me, I don’t have any reason to think they appear “curious.”

Allan brought the waldo down on the path and Ell decided that “path” was the correct word. It wasn’t paved, just a trail where little vegetation grew. At first Ell thought that the vegetation in the area of the path had just been worn away by the passage of many feet. But then she noticed that dirt wasn’t really showing through. She bent forward to get a closer look and realized that the surface was covered with the woody stems of thousands of tiny vines. They had a faint greenish color, but no leaves. She stepped to the edge of the path and saw that the slender little vines seem to merge with the leafy vegetation at the side of the trail. She got the distinct impression that the mini-vines had somehow been made to grow there to suppress erosion.

After a quick glance around, Ell started walking the waldo toward the city. “Now that we’re on the ground,” she asked Allan, “what’s the gravity and atmospheric composition?”

Allan said, “0.19 gravities. The atmosphere is composed of 28% oxygen, 61% nitrogen, 6% argon, 4% neon, and less than 1% other gases including carbon dioxide. The pressure is 4.1 atmospheres.”

Delightedly, Ell said, “We could live here! And if I strapped on a couple of wings I could fly in gravity this low and atmosphere this thick!” Now if only it turns out that there really isn’t any intelligent life… Or since the grids make it look like they were built by something intelligent maybe there was intelligent life, but they all died out?

Allen said, “Unfortunately, background radiation levels are high. Although this waldo does not have means for detecting it, I suspect this planet has a weak magnetosphere and that much of this radiation is from their star. The thick atmosphere is probably providing some protection because radiation levels aren’t quite as high as they are on Mars in our solar system, however it still wouldn’t be a very safe place to live long term.”

Maybe radiation wiped out their civilization? Ell wondered as she walked along as Virgwald. Before she made it to the next turn in the path, an animal came around that bend toward her. A moment later, another one stepped out from amongst the vegetation along the right side. Though Ell initially thought they were animals, she quickly got the impression that they looked excited to see her. Then they began pointing. Damn! she thought, They sure look intelligent. Then a third alien flew in over the vegetation bordering the path and landed next to the first two.

She wasn’t surprised that they were gesticulating toward her—after all, they’d probably heard the waldo’s jets bringing it down and had come around specifically to see what had made the noise. What surprised her was that the three aliens all looked quite different, as if they were separate species, yet they appeared to be communicating with one another. Could this world have several different intelligent species?!

One had a splotchy fuzzy surface and was quite a bit larger than the other two. It had several large bundles of vegetation on its back and was walking on four limbs. Though the four legs appeared slender to Ell, they were significantly thicker and heavier than the legs on the other two aliens. Remembering that the gravity on this planet was less than one fifth that of Earth’s, Ell realized that this animal/alien fit in the “heavyset” category. If she hadn’t already decided that it was intelligent, the thick legs would have fit with her initial impression that it was a beast of burden, transporting the bundles of vegetation from one location to another. It had six limbs total, with two large limbs up front which reminded Ell somewhat of the tines on a forklift—except these tines ended in large graspers. Ell had the impression that those big limbs could have loaded the bundles of vegetation on its own back. Eyes—a structure that seemed fairly universal in appearance because of the physics of optics—were set on stubby stalks at the front of the body. She couldn’t see a mouth or breathing orifice.

Although the other two animals seemed to be similar in size to one another, they still didn’t look like they were members of the same species. One of them had a wrinkly pale blue surface with a white geometric pattern on it. The pattern certainly didn’t look natural, so Ell thought it must be something like a tattoo. It was ambulating on two very slender legs and had four more limbs which looked like they were for manipulation. There were two small wings which had folded up so neatly as to become nearly invisible. It had two heavier outer arms and two very lightweight and delicate central arms with tiny digits. Even the thicker outer arms would have looked slender on earth. It also had three eyes, one of which was quite large and centrally located directly on the body; two more were delicate and widely mounted on long stalks.

The second of the smaller animals had a smooth orangey brown skin without decorations. It reminded Ell of an ostrich with two long slender legs on a relatively small body and two small wings set high on its back. Though the wings were even smaller in proportion to its body than the wings on a flightless ostrich, the alien had flown quite well with them in this low gravity. It didn’t have the ostrich’s long neck, just two eyes on short stubby stalks. It had two arms for a total of four limbs. These arms were intermediate in size as compared to the blue alien, neither heavy-duty nor delicate.

Could they all be mutants due to the radiation levels here? she wondered. After a moment’s thought she realized that they didn’t look deformed and crippled like mutants would—somehow they looked… functionally modified.

If not for the appearance that they were communicating with one another, Ell’s initial reaction would have been that the big one and the ostrich-like one were animals while the third one with its geometric pattern was the intelligent one. But the recognition that they all had hands of a sort that they were using to point at Virgwald markedly upped her impression of their intelligence. They were also waving the arms around as if that added something to their conversation. Ell said, “Allan, make sure that Virgwald’s audio receptors are working. They look like they must be talking, but I’m not hearing anything.” Before Allan responded, she realized she actually was hearing wind noise, some rustling of leaves, and a strange whispering sound, so Virgwald’s microphones had to be functional.

Allan responded, “They’re making a moderate amount of sound in the ultrasonic range, presumably speech. I will reduce its frequency into the range of human hearing, though it’s of course possible that its content requires the high frequencies to achieve sufficient information density.”

The whispering sound disappeared and Ell began to hear something that reminded her of sticks rattling together. Damn, I’m going to need Dr. Piscova again, Ell thought, there’s no way I’m going to learn that language by myself.

While Ell had been trying to take all this in, the three aliens had approached Virgwald with bouncy, bounding steps and began examining him excitedly. They weren’t actually touching the waldo, but were walking around and around, looking at him from all angles. Feeling fairly certain that these were intelligent beings, Ell lifted one hand and, feeling like she should have had something better prepared, said, “Hello… I come in peace.”

The aliens sprang back when Ell lifted Virgwald’s hand, but responded with a great deal of clattering to the words she said, suggesting that they could hear the lower frequency range that Ell was speaking in. After a minute or two, Geo, as Ell had decided to name the one with the geometric patterns on its skin, reached out and gently touched Virgwald on the arm. Ell did nothing for a moment, not wanting to frighten them. Then she gently reached out with Virgwald’s hand and touched Geo on one of his thicker outer arms.

Geo held still for this for a moment, then reached out and began touching and stroking Virgwald with three of the four fingers of one of the smaller more delicate central arms. When Virgwald didn’t object, the fourth finger began touching, then sweeping along his arm. That finger appeared to be different, prehensile, like an elephant’s trunk… or a tongue.

Ell saw that the prehensile digit looked damp, at which point it immediately reminded her much more of a tongue than a finger.

The clattering noise crescendoed shortly after Geo had tongued Virgwald’s surface, giving Ell the distinct impression that something about touching Virgwald with the damp tongue-like protuberance had created marked excitement. “Allan,” Ell asked, “do you have access to any of Dr. Piscova’s translation algorithms? And, if so, do you think you’d have any chance of translating what the Virgies are saying without her help?”

Allan said, “I do have access to her work and her publications regarding translation of the Teecees. However, I will almost certainly require human intuition to determine what they mean when they make certain sounds. Something similar to what you did with the Sigmas to obtain their words for a starter set of numbers, nouns, and verbs etcetera.”

Ell sighed at the daunting task, then made Virgwald point at himself. “Virgwald,” she said, then pointed at Geo.

Geo didn’t seem to get it. He continued waving his arms at his companions, sometimes looking at Virgwald and sometimes looking at the other Virgies. Disconcertingly, sometimes he looked at Virgwald with one eye-stalk and at the other aliens with the other eye.

Ell tried again, first waving Virgwald’s hand back and forth to get their attention and then having his hand point at himself and say, “Virgwald,” once again. The three aliens stopped clattering to one another and this time they were all looking at Virgwald when he pointed at himself and said his name.

For a moment, the silence continued, then the clattering resumed. Because ultrasound is quite directional and Virgwald had binaural hearing, Ell had begun to recognize when each of the different aliens clattered even though she couldn’t see a mouth moving. Then Geo waved its hands for a moment, either imitating Virgwald, or trying to gain its companions attention, and pointed at himself. A moment later a brief clatter emanated from Geo. In Ell’s ear, Allan said, “I would assume that sound is the alien’s name.”

Ell said, “Yeah, in my mind I’m calling him Geo for the geometric pattern on his skin. If you could translate that clatter to ‘Geo,’ that’d be great.” To herself, she thought despairingly about how long it was going to take to build up a translation vocabulary and how much she wanted to talk to them right now. Well, I’ve got a few hours, she thought doggedly, I’d just as well get started. She had Virgwald hold up one finger, saying, “One.” She held up two fingers and said, “Two.” She held up three fingers and said, “Three.”

She would have sworn that Geo’s eyes brightened. Then it turned to each of its companions and clattered for a bit. To Ell’s surprise, the big one turned and ambled off on the path away from the city. The ostrich-like one turned toward the city and flapped into the air in that direction. Then Geo took a few steps toward the city, turned to Virgwald and waved for Virgwald to come along. As soon as Ell started Virgwald walking in that direction, Geo held up one digit. He made a clatter, then held up two digits…

***

Dr. Turner stepped into the lab, “Vanessa?” He didn’t see her.

A little kid’s head poked around the DNA sequencer. “Oh, hi Dr. Turner,” the kid said, stepping out from behind the machine. “She just went out the door a few seconds ago... um, I think she went to the bathroom.”

It had to be the Kinrais boy. To Turner’s surprise the kid was seriously overweight. Probably why he’s interested in obesity I guess. I suppose I really should go talk to him since he’s working in here. Turner walked that way, “Hi yourself. You must be Zane Kinrais?”

The boy nodded, “Zage.”

“Huh?”

“Zage. My name is Zage, not Zane.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought I should meet you now that you’re actually doing a research project in the lab. What is it that you’re working on?”

“Um, well, the last time I was in I ran my own DNA through the sequencer. It turns out that I have several genes present in at least some cells that match genes from HA-36. That fits my hypothesis that I’m obese because I’m expressing some of those viral genes. However, after I found those genes in my own DNA I checked and realized that, of course, some of those genes are present in pretty much every genome, including humans. Once I excluded those conserved genes, at least some of my cells still had two genes in common with HA-36 that aren’t in most people. Now I’m running my Mom and Dad’s DNA through the sequencer to see whether I inherited those genes or whether maybe they got left behind during an infection.”

Turner didn’t say anything for a moment. He was coming to grips with the fact that the kid actually was as smart as Vanessa said he was. He’d accepted that concept rationally when he’d been talking to Vanessa, but realized that he still hadn’t really believed it deep down inside. Finally he said, “So you’re thinking one of those genes is the reason you’re overweight?”

The kid nodded, a serious expression on his face.

“And then you’re, what, going to try to get somebody to come up with a cure?”

The boy frowned, “I’d like to think somebody would. But I’m afraid it wouldn’t happen. There are a lot of promising areas to study in the treatment of obesity and very few scientists actually pursuing them.” He shrugged, “Easier to blame it on us fat people for being slothful and gluttonous.”

“Um, we’ve been working on the intestinal microbiome in obesity.”

“I know, you’re one of the few. That’s why I asked my dad to see if you’d let me visit your lab in the first place.”

“Okay…” Turner realized he didn’t have anything else to talk to the kid about. At least not until he’d read up on HA-36 so he wouldn’t sound like an idiot. “I’ll let you get back to it then. I look forward to hearing what you find.”

Chapter Four

Emma and Roger stepped into Ell’s office, finding Ell mounted on the saddle of the waldo controller she kept there. Ell didn’t dismount, she just said, “Can you go ahead and close the door?”

Emma’s eyes widened a little, Another closed door session? she thought wonderingly. What’s it going to be this time?

Roger had closed the door, but Ell just stared at them for a moment, looking uncertain. Eventually, Roger said, “What’s up?”

Ell shrugged, “I need help looking over another planet. Would you guys be up for it?”

Both Roger and Emma looked a little bit startled, Emma saying, “So soon?”

Ell nodded.

“Something like we did for BC4,” Roger asked, “looking around to be sure we don’t see any intelligent life?”

Ell looked uncomfortable, “No, this time there’s no doubt that they are intelligent. They have language and numbers.”

Excitedly, Roger and Emma spoke at the same time, Emma saying, “Like the Sigmas?!” while Roger said, “Primitive or advanced?”

Ell took a deep breath, “So far, they look primitive. No machines that I’ve seen. But…” she trailed off.

“But what?! If they don’t have machines, they can’t be very advanced.”

“Yeah, but I still have this impression… You’ll just have to see them. But I’d want you to promise that you’ll keep them secret until we’re sure they’re no risk to the human race.”

Emma and Roger quickly agreed, Roger impatiently—his tone expressing just how dubious he felt regarding the possibility that a society without machines could be advanced and dangerous. In a low tone, he said, “Personally, I don’t think ‘advanced’ means sitting around contemplating your navel with great intelligence, perception, and sophistication—you’ve got to accomplish things.”

“Allan…” Ell said, “bring up imaging of the first three Virgies we encountered.” She continued as Geo and the other two aliens came up on the screen, “As you can see, it looks like we have three different species here, all on the same planet at the same location. At first I thought it was an intelligent alien and two animals, but you can see they’re apparently communicating with one another. Two of them have six limbs and one of them only four! They may also all have wings, if the big one’s wings are hidden beneath those bundles of vegetation. They all have eyes on stalks, but you’ll notice that one has two eyes on stalks and a third large central eye mounted directly on the body. The skin, the feet, the hands, are all different from alien to alien!” She gave an exasperated sounding sigh, “It’s hard to believe that the first three aliens Virgwald encountered all appear to be from different species. Could this planet have evolved three different intelligent species that all got along well enough that they didn’t wipe one another out? Or, did some of them come from other planets? None of the other planets in the system look like they could support life, so if they did come from another planet they would’ve had to make an interstellar journey!”

“Which system is this?” Emma asked, “107 Piscium, 61 Virginis, Eta Cassiopeiae?” She paused, looking as if a light had gone on, “Wait, if you’re calling them Virgies, I would imagine we’re on 61 Virginis, right?”

“Yep,” Ell grinning at her friend.

Emma glanced back at the screen. She said, “I think I could believe three separate intelligent species. Homo sapiens and Neanderthals both populated Europe at the same time—though, I guess they weren’t really separate species since they seem to have interbred. However, I find it a little harder to believe that both four limbed and six limbed species evolved to an advanced state on the same planet. You’d think that one body plan would have outcompeted the other at some point.”

Ell said, “Here on earth we have four limbed, six limbed, eight limbed, ten limbed, and many limbed all at…”

Emma interrupted, “Yeah, but all except the four limbed are little animals. They all have exoskeletons and…” she trailed off as if thinking for a moment, then resumed with more confidence, “When you’re talking large endoskeletal animals here on earth, you’re limited to the four limbed variety.” She blinked, “Well, and the no-limbed.”

Ell said, “But, I’d be surprised if that was a universal law. If little animals with different numbers of limbs can evolve, why not larger ones?”

Emma grinned, “Let’s call Dr. Wheat. He’s the expert.”

Looking a little frustrated, Ell said, “Not yet. I don’t want too many people knowing about it until we’re relatively certain that it’s safe.”

“But…”

This time Roger interrupted, “They could all be six limbed and one pair of limbs just atrophied on that ostrich looking one,” he said dismissively. “However, if they’re interstellar, surely you’d be able to see machinery. Interstellar travel would require a major industrial infrastructure!”

Ell tilted her head curiously, “Roger, we travel from one star to another using little machines. They might have a port to another star hidden in a small building!”

Roger barked an embarrassed laugh, “Oh, yeah… Sorry, I’m an idiot! Still thinking about the sci-fi I read when I was a kid.”

Emma said, “Buildings? So you’ve actually been to one of their houses?”

“Well, I’ve seen them,” Ell said with an exasperated little laugh. “Maybe I should fill you in on some more info before you give me too much more feedback. Geo, that’s the name I gave the one with the geometric pattern on his skin, walked me into their nearest city. I assume he walked because he didn’t see any wings on Virgwald, perhaps suggesting that he’s familiar with wingless creatures that are intelligent. The other two took off in different directions and I had the impression that Geo instructed them to do so. Allan, show them an overhead view of the city.”

Once an image of the green city with its mostly hexagonal organization had popped up on the screen, Ell continued, “Here’s an overview of the city. You can see that it’s mostly organized into hexagonal cells, with some of the hexagons looking like they might be divided up into six triangles and some into three diamonds. A few avenues are cleared out of some rows of the hexagons and pass through the city at sixty degree angles to one another, but I suspect they mostly fly in and out. I’m thinking that the avenues are just for the occasional transportation of heavy things. Here and there you see small areas that are arranged rectangularly, but they’re uncommon. The green fuzzy appearance you’re seeing is because everything’s overgrown with vegetation. Allan, show them some ground-level views of the structures after Virgwald got into the city.”

The view on the screen switched to show them a view from Virgwald’s eye level. Ell continued, “In this image, you’re looking at the wall of one of those hexagons from an avenue. Either the wall is completely overgrown with vegetation or… maybe it actually grew there. Notice the leaves overlap like shingles.”

Emma said, “You’re thinking they grow their buildings?! Train vegetation into place like topiary or bonsai?”

Ell shrugged, “Maybe? Why don’t you watch as Virgwald goes on down the street with Geo?” The image on the screen started moving down the avenue, “You’re gonna see some more aliens,” Ell said with a giggle that sounded like it was something between amused and a tiny bit hysterical.

An alien appeared from between two of the hexagons. Two more flew in and landed next to them. All three looked markedly different from one another. They had different coloration and ranged from relatively squat and low for this low gravity environment, with relatively strong appearing arms, to tall and gracile with four substantial wings. The one with four wings had only four slender limbs. Another had two legs and four arms. Two of the arms were at the back of the alien. The low centered one had two arms and six legs, plus wings! They all appeared to be excited to see Virgwald and began moving that direction. Geo moved to intercept them, Roger said, “Wait a minute! That geometric pattern on Geo’s skin is fading!”

“Yeah,” Ell said, with an exasperated little laugh, “I named him for his skin pattern, but it disappeared over the first couple of hours. Originally he was blue and white, but the blue turned silvery and so did the white.” She turned to stare at Emma and Roger with wide eyes, “Now his skin, I swear, is almost the same color as the waldo’s magnesium.”

Roger drew back in surprise, “You’re kidding!”

Ell just shook her head and turned her eyes back to the screen, “Geo and I had been working on learning some of each other’s words,” she laughed, “well, actually getting Geo to say the words so Allan could learn them for me. Geo’s language is some kind of ultrasonic rattle. I not only can’t make those sounds with my vocal chords, but I also can’t seem to distinguish one rattle from another. Allan does great though, parroting rattles back to them as needed.” She turned back to the screen with its additional variety of strange beings. “Anyway, at this point he introduced me to all these new aliens. I spent some time trying to figure out whether he was telling me their individual names or their species’ names.” Ell turned and raised an eyebrow, “He couldn’t seem to grasp what I was asking.”

“Well, that would be a pretty complex concept to get across when you only know a few words of the other person’s language.”

Ell shrugged, “Yeah. I thought I’d made myself clear, but maybe not. I used Virgwald’s laser to draw a bunch of waldoes, giving each of them individual names, then waving at all of them and calling them ‘waldoes.’ The aliens were excited enough about the laser picture that it was hard to get them to pay attention to my question. When they did finally invest some time in understanding the question, my impression was they were astonished that there might be more than one waldo. When I had Allan draw several pictures of Geo with Virgwald’s laser, they gave them all the same name.”

Roger shrugged, “Still, translation from one alien species to another must be extremely problematic.”

Ell said, “Yeah, but one of the possibilities that keeps going through my mind is that all those wildly different aliens,” she waved at the screen, “actually belong to the same species.”

Roger and Emma both turned to the screen, Emma saying, “Come on! They’re too different from one another! Creatures with completely different body plans can’t belong to the same species! Occam’s razor says this is some kind of meeting world for different species.”

“Well, it’s interesting you’d say that,” Ell said. “This is the first extraterrestrial world we’ve encountered where humans could actually live.” Ell said, “Well, maybe not, there may be toxins or killer microbes or something else that would keep us from living there. The radiation levels are high, but it has an atmosphere we could breathe.”

Roger gave her an excited look, “It’s not too dense?!”

“It’s dense all right, but only 4.1 atmospheres, about the same as a hundred-thirty foot deep scuba dive. If you suddenly came from there to here you’d get the bends, but with a gradual transition you’d be okay.” Ell frowned, “But, back to the atmosphere we could breathe issue. For a species to live on another planet there sure seems to be a lot of requirements beyond the oxygen atmosphere and liquid water issues that most people consider. Too much CO2 is toxic. In fact the concentration in the Virgies’ atmosphere, at about a half a percent, would kill some animals, though humans will tolerate it, at least for short periods. Too high a pressure or too low a pressure is un-survivable. We talk about the liquid water range, but the upper end of it, above about a hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit, would be fatal to most earth species. Though we can live below freezing, the plants we depend on for food don’t thrive long term even down close to freezing. This is to say nothing of other possible toxins in the atmosphere which the current denizens might have developed resistance to… or the prospect of inimical biota.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roger said, “we get it. Worlds where we can live comfortably are going to be few and far between but…”

“Taking that as a given,” Ell interrupted, lifting her chin interrogatively, “what do you think the chances are that all these different species, coming from so many different worlds, can all live here in this one environment?”

Roger looked flummoxed. “I… see what you mean. So, either this one world evolved a whole lot of different intelligent species, or maybe they’re only superficially different?”

Ell lifted an eyebrow, “Yeah, and if they didn’t come from a bunch of different interstellar destinations, they might not be advanced. Anyway, that’s what I’m hoping you’ll help me figure out. Right now it’s nighttime there and Geo seems to be sleeping, or at least torpid. Otherwise, when I can’t be controlling Virgwald, I’ve had Allan walking him around with Geo, recording everything he sees and trying to save little clips of things Allan thinks might be interesting for us to look at. But, you know that even a highly advanced AI like Allan sometimes misses the obvious. I’m going to have a terrible time going over everything all by myself, so I need some people I really trust to watch some of it for me and pick out the things they think are actual highlights. Also, Allan’s really not very good at choosing items to be named for addition to our vocabulary. He’s great at remembering them once we’ve chosen them, but one of us needs to interact with the Virgies in order to get words from them.”

Emma elbowed Roger, “Sure, it’d be fun,” she said for both of them.

Author’s notes:

- The Virgies only have the female sex so Geo thinks of Virgwald as female.

- Geo’s prehensile digit is a DNA sensing organ, denoted here as a “taeng.”

In the dark, Geo kept one eye cracked to watch Virgwald. Geo’s ancestors had evolved themselves to be able to keep part of their mind awake in the night for safety. Though there was little need for it anymore, there was little harm in keeping the ability, so they still had it. The part of Geo’s mind which remained awake tried to ponder the strange being. Why is she so… heavily built? Why doesn’t she have wings?! And, most disturbing of all, What happened to Virgwald’s DNA? Geo’d taengisted moderate quantities of nucleic acids and quite a few fragments of denatured DNA, but there’d been very little intact DNA of any significance. It was as if Virgwald had been heated in a fire! Hot enough to coagulate the proteins! Not hot enough to completely destroy her DNA but enough to unwind the helix.

Geo’d been so excited to encounter a being so very, very different. Who could know what Virgwald’s DNA might hold?! Her exhilaration when Virgwald had allowed Geo to taengist her arm had been so extreme Geo almost couldn’t keep her wings furled.

Yet, when Geo’s taeng had actually touched Virgwald’s arm, she’d taengisted such strangeness! Geo had actually swept her taeng along the surface of the arm, hoping to taengist something more, anything! Virgwald’s arm had tasted something like a gold nugget or some flakes of silver or copper that Geo had once encountered. But Geo had taengisted so little DNA!

Though she was unable to understand how a living being could exist with so little DNA taengistable on its surface, Geo had somehow managed to force that supreme mystery to the back of her mind. Instead, Geo had focused on the more minor mysteries of where Virgwald came from and whether she could teach Geo something else. It’d quickly become obvious that Virgwald did not speak normally, but that the deep rumbling groans it made were somehow an attempt to communicate. Virgwald had given her name, then acquired Geo’s, repeating Geo’s name back at a normal tone. Then Virgwald had started on numbers.

Perhaps Virgwald has some way to hide her DNA? Maybe after I’ve learned to communicate in some fashion, Virgwald will allow some of her DNA to come to the surface where I can taengist it? Even in Geo’s semi-sleeping state a shiver ran over her at the thought of taengisting DNA so alien. What miracles might be contained within?

Somehow, I must be the first to taengist Virgwald!

***

Geo’s sleeper mind woke the rest of her as sunrise began to filter into her hex. She looked over at Virgwald, still standing absolutely motionless. Though her sleeper mind hadn’t been considering this possibility, it seemed to Geo that Virgwald hadn’t even swayed in the night, much less excreted into the wall. Thinking of that made Geo aware of some urgency, so she moved to the wall of her hex and extruded her excretory orifice down into the roots.

Having done her business, Geo moved slowly toward Virgwald. Having time to simply observe without having to communicate, Geo was able to further consider the massively thick limbs with their hard appearing surfaces. Apparently, Virgwald had been evolved with exoskeletal DNA as Geo had seen no movement of the muscles underneath that rigid appearing surface yesterday. In the past, Geo had met a few individuals who had evolved themselves to become exoskeletal, one of whom had been an arena fighter. However, it made changing oneself much more difficult, so very few Virgies did it.

Interestingly, Virgwald had two eyes, both mounted solidly into a large, rigid block of tissue atop her body. This would make accuracy of binocular depth perception more accurate and perhaps provide some protection from eye injury, but Geo thought the loss of the three hundred and sixty degree vision provided by rotatable eye-stalks would be a major downside.

Suddenly, Geo had a thought. If the surface of Virgwald’s exoskeleton was non-living—a typical situation for exoskeletal animals—that may be why there’d been so little DNA where Geo had taengisted Virgwald’s arm yesterday. Also, Virgwald might not have any sensation on her exoskeleton, so, if Virgwald was asleep, perhaps Geo could taeng her now? Especially, because Virgwald could only see to the front.

Geo circled around behind Virgwald and quietly stepped close. Reaching out, she swiped her taeng over Virgwald’s surface just below the visible hip joints where some DNA might have leaked out through the more flexible surfaces.

Allen said, “Ell… Geo is approaching Virgwald.”

Ell checked the time and saw that she was still on “Virgwald duty,” though Roger was supposed to be taking over in a few more minutes. “Let me see,” Ell said, looking up at her HUD. “It looks like it’s morning there. Did Geo do anything overnight?”

“Swaying, shifting feet. Still no evidence of respiration, so I suspect he has some system for pumping air through a lung type organ like the teecees do. A method that doesn’t involve visibly inflating and deflating.

“The first thing Geo did when he began moving this morning was to go to the wall of this structure and extend some kind of prehensile member from its back end. It placed the end of that member down amongst the roots of the greenery making up the wall. I suspect he relieved himself, simultaneously fertilizing the plants making up his home.

“Subsequently, Geo approached Virgwald and circled several times, apparently observing closely.” Allan said, “Now I believe, based on auditory information, that he has approached Virgwald from behind. Though Virgwald has no touch sensors back there, based on micro stresses detected at Virgwald’s ankles Geo seems to be touching Virgwald very lightly.”

“Do you think he’s doing Virgwald any harm?” Ell asked.

“No, I believe he is touching Virgwald with one of those tongue-like digits he has on his hands. Perhaps it provides Geo with a sense similar to the sense of smell? Or taste?”

Ell pondered what to do for a moment, then said, “You learned a greeting word when Geo encountered the other Virgies upon entering town yesterday, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Say, ‘Hello Geo,’ then lift your arm into view so that you can inspect the area where Geo touched it with his prehensile digit yesterday. See if you can detect any evidence of damage.” Ell snorted a little laugh, “I don’t want to find out that Geo’s gradually eating Virgwald.”

Ell heard Allan make one of the Virgies’ clatters, then Virgwald’s arm came into Ell’s field of view on the HUD. To Ell, Allan said, “It would seem that the greeting startled Geo. From the sounds I deduce that Geo jumped away from Virgwald when he spoke. Now I believe Geo is moving around to the front side of Virgwald.”

Ell said, “You can lower Virgwald’s arm back down to its normal position. It looked normal to me; did you see any evidence of damage?” As Ell finished speaking, Virgwald’s arm dropped down out of view and Geo moved into the picture on her HUD. Geo was clattering.

Allan said, “I didn’t detect any damage to Virgwald’s arm. Geo says, ‘Hello.’”

Ell said, “I wonder if Geo has an agenda for today?” After a moment, she continued, “You don’t have enough vocabulary yet to say, ‘Take me to your leader?’ do you?”

Allan said only, “No.”

Geo stepped away from Virgwald and waved for him to follow, a motion which appeared to be fairly universal. Since Ell wasn’t on a waldo controller, she told Allan to have Virgwald follow the alien. Geo moved to the other side of his living hexagonal dwelling. Allan moved Virgwald along behind him. This area had some substantial nodules protruding from its walls. Ell looked around, realizing that the other walls had nodules as well; they just appeared to be bigger in this section. They’d arrived at Geo’s hexagon after sunset the day before and it’d been hard to see much until now, even with Virgwald’s enhanced low light vision.

All of the walls of the hexagon appeared to be made of densely woven vine. Ell had the feeling that the weave was loosening up as the minutes passed. She thought perhaps to let in more air and light. The roof had woven vine on the visible ceiling with the over lapping shingled leaves on the roof visible through the weave of the vines. The center of the hexagon was held up by a kind of post, also made of densely woven vines. The roof was slightly arched to have a dimple at the post, so that a little bit of the rainwater trickled down the central support, but most of it ran out to the walls. As Ell peered through the weave of the wall, she could see tiny glimpses of the parallel wall of another hexagonal dwelling about two feet away. The outer surface of the vines of the wall next door was chlorophyll green even though the interior surfaces of the vines she was seeing in Geo’s hut were brown.

The densely woven vine was so tangled that Ell couldn’t tell whether it was made up of many plants, or only one. She had Allan walk Virgwald over to inspect it more closely. As she had suspected, the interwoven vines were joined to one another in many locations, thus creating a more rigidly interlocked structure than one would expect from ordinary tangled but separate vines on earth. It would appear that the leaves on the roof harvested most of the sunshine, as well as deflecting the water down the walls or to the central post. At present, the overlapping leaves of the roof seemed to be lifting up a little to allow some reflected light to bounce into the interior. Geo clattered, and a moment later, the leaves of the triangular section they were in lifted even farther, brightening the inside. Plants that follow commands?! Ell thought wonderingly.

Geo waved at Virgwald, so Ell had Allan turn Virgwald toward Geo. She’d entered the building at D5R, but took a moment to tell the small team she was supposed to meet with at D5R that she’d be a couple of minutes late. That done, Ell walked toward her office so she could use the waldo controller there.

Geo was indicating several of the different nodules protruding from the vines of the wall, but Ell had no idea what Geo wanted. She said, “Allan… make that ‘query’ sound.” This was a sound they’d noticed apparently preceding questions the day before. She heard Virgwald making a clatter, presumably the query sound, though Ell still couldn’t distinguish one clatter from another.

Ell would have sworn that Geo looked puzzled by the query, but, after a moment’s consideration, he twisted a couple of nodules loose from the wall. Approaching Virgwald, he broke both of them in half and held the broken ends up to Virgwald. Apparently preparing to take over, Roger’s voice came in Ell’s ear, “Is Geo offering Virgwald some food?”

Ell said, “Maybe?” She’d reached her office, closed the door, and stepped up onto the saddle of the waldo controller. She slid her hand into the waldo glove and reached out to take one of the nodules from Geo. She moved it up closer to Virgwald’s eyes where she could look at its fleshy appearing surface. “Are you ready to start running Virgwald?”

“Sure,” Roger said. “What’s been happening so far?”

As Ell reviewed what had happened in the first few minutes of the morning, Ell pinched off a piece of the nodule and put it in the little chemical analyzer on Virgwald’s chest. As soon as Ell had chosen one of the nodules, Geo made it obvious that it was indeed food by taking the other nodule and placing it in an opening that appeared just below Geo’s large central eye. The opening closed, leaving only a faint wrinkle in the surface. Ell realized that this “mouth” just didn’t look much different than the wrinkles covering most of Geo’s surface.

Geo didn’t seem to chew.

Allan said, “Preliminary analysis suggests DNA, sugars, hydrocarbons and amino acids. Presumably the nodule contains complex carbohydrates, lipids and some form of proteins. Determining the exact content will take several hours.”

“Wow,” Roger said. “So, this hexagonal hut provides shelter and food, adjusts the lighting on command, and does it all biologically?”

“It’s a bathroom too,” Ell said, explaining Geo’s first undertaking of the morning. She finished by saying, “Okay, Roger you take over control.” She watched for a minute as Roger had Allan guide Virgwald in following Geo back across the hexagon. Roger had Allan turn Virgwald’s head to look around. There were piles of material here and there on the floor and various objects suspended on the walls. Every bit of it though, appeared to be biological. No rocks even. On a hunch, Ell asked Roger to have Virgwald stop and squat to look at the floor. What she’d thought was some kind of matting looked like it was actually living plant fiber! Something similar to the interwoven small vines that made up the surface of the paths outside, but here it was even finer. Probably softer too, she thought.

Geo had gone to one of the corners of the hexagon and pulled open the wall. He stood there, patiently looking back at Virgwald. Roger had Virgwald stand, move to the corner and step through the opening Geo had provided.

Shaking her head at all the revelations, Ell left her office and went to her meeting…

Since Virgwald had managed to express a desire to see the water, Geo led Virgwald to one of the main avenues that went in the direction of the coast. As they walked along, Geo named objects and actions for Virgwald. At first, Geo’d tried to learn Virgwald’s low-pitched words at the same time that Virgwald was learning hers, but when it became evident that Virgwald remembered every word perfectly without needing any repetition, Geo had finally given up. Virgwald pronounced words without evident inflection, but was still understandable when she did so. Geo wondered whether she should evolve her memory center so that she’d be able to remember words as well as Virgwald even though it was difficult to say Virgwald’s words in such a low tone. Virgwald had obviously evolved her memory to the point that she had a near perfect memory. Unfortunately, Geo didn’t have any DNA strands tucked away that would improve her memory to that degree. Geo didn’t want to find and negotiate for the kind of DNA that would require, so she settled for simply using available DNA to increase the size of the vocabulary lobe of her brain.

During a lull in word naming, Geo pondered their breakfast that morning. Virgwald had eaten no more than a tiny nibble of one of Geo’s food nodules. Virgwald didn’t have her own food and hadn’t eaten yesterday. Geo couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping Virgwald going. Perhaps Virgwald has more lipid storage underneath that rigid carapace than I would expect? But why not eat more when I offered it to her?

Even more disappointing, Geo’s taengisting of Virgwald that morning had produced only a few substantial fragments of denatured single strand DNA. Geo had repaired them and inserted them into some cells to see what the fragments might produce, but they were small enough that Geo didn’t have much hope that they would make anything very useful.

As they approached the coast, they began to encounter more Virgies who’d evolved themselves for swimming and diving. Geo had the feeling, even though Virgwald hadn’t said as much, that Virgwald found the appearance of the swimming-evolved very disturbing.

Geo turned an eye-stalk to look appraisingly at Virgwald’s carapace. If her exoskeleton is actually metallic, like I thought it tasted, it might be damaged by the salt water of the sea! Geo thought. Perhaps that’s what she’s worried about? Geo didn’t know much about metals, they were very uncommon after all, however she’d heard that they were surprisingly strong, but easily corroded in salt water.

With a shiver of apprehension, Geo thought about the fact that those Virgies she’d known of who’d evolved an exoskeleton had done it to become fighters. And, if this one had the DNA to evolve a heavy and powerful metallic exoskeleton, she might be a truly fierce warrior. Times had been peaceful for hundreds of years since Virgies had voluntarily restricted the number of offspring they produced.

But, what if Virgwald was the first scout for a group who were evolving metallic exoskeletons? Maybe they thought they were so powerful that they could produce as many offspring as they wanted. Then they’d just take over as much territory as they needed for their new people!

Geo began to wonder if she really wanted to try to keep Virgwald to herself. Perhaps she should let others know about this newcomer…?

***

Jamieson sat in his hotel room staring with unfocused eyes at the big stacks of hundred dollar bills on his desk. There were a hundred bills in each ten thousand dollar bundle, and he had a hundred bundles!

He’d already taken care of the gold. That had been a bigger hassle than he’d expected. At current prices, a million dollars’ worth of gold weighed over forty pounds. He’d put a half a million each in safety deposit boxes in two different banks, one in Virginia and another in South Carolina. He’d buried another million down by the coast and the last million in Tennessee. He definitely didn’t want to have to return to this area to get his money later. Someday he’d try to put it into a bank account, but right now he didn’t trust banks.

The million in cash sitting on the desk represented his working capital. He was going to have to buy some stuff and hire some guys to carry out the kidnapping successfully.

First though, he needed to do some more surveillance and come up with an actual workable plan…

***

Zage stared unseeingly at the big screen. His current theory had to do with the fact that, at least in his case, an early infection with HA-36 had for some reason incorporated two genes from the adenovirus into the DNA of a number of his cells. Thus, even though his body’s immune system had eradicated the HA-36 infection, he was still expressing the products of those two genes. One of those genes, zbo, had been demonstrated to express a peptide which epigenetically down-regulated production of Trim28.

Interestingly, back in 2016, the Trim28 protein had been reported to regulate a network of other genes. Trim28 expression varied in certain strains of mice causing them to be either obese or lean. Researchers had also found a series of identical twins where one member of the pair was obese. The obese twin didn’t express as much Trim28 as the non-obese twin.

There was also some evidence that zbo might upregulate the secretion of ghrelin, a hormone secreted by the GI tract when the stomach is empty. Ghrelin spurred eating.

So, Zage believed his HA-36 infection had left him with a gene expressing zbo, and zbo was keeping him from making as much Trim28 as he should be. Alternatively, or in addition, it might be making him secrete more ghrelin, an agent that would stimulate him to eat more.

So, one possibility was that a lack of Trim28 and an excess of ghrelin was making him fat.

The other option was that he was just a slothful glutton, a possibility he didn’t like contemplating. He found it hard to stick to his diet and when he did he only lost a little bit of weight. He’d prefer to think that his genes were the cause and to hope that maybe he could find a cure, not only for himself, but for hundreds of millions of other obese people.

The obvious thing to do would be to remove zbo from his DNA. It wasn’t supposed to be there and it might be the root cause of Zage’s obesity. Zage had read at length about CRISPR V systems and intellectually understood how he could use that type of gene editing to remove the unwanted zbo gene. He wouldn’t even have to remove the gene. He could just have CRISPR edit it into a nonfunctional state. However, he was a little reluctant to try to modify his own genes when he hadn’t even practiced on a bacterium yet. That idea was fraught with possibilities for horrible outcomes.

Suddenly that thought helped him recognize a path forward. The first thing to do was to get some experience using CRISPR. If he practiced using CRISPR in a bacterium, he could actually get that practice by trying to modify a bacterial strain so that it made Trim28.

Then he could try treating himself with Trim28, rather than actually trying to modify his entire genome. If it didn’t work, he wouldn’t have suffered much more than a few injections of Trim 28 and there’d still be the possibility of trying to do something about the possibility that he secreted ghrelin in excess.

As opposed to what might happen if he screwed up trying to modify his own genetic makeup…

***

Ell said, “So, what do we know so far?”

Emma and Roger looked at one another. Hesitantly, Emma said, “Well, we know a lot about the Virgies, but I’m assuming you’re asking about the big picture? Asking if they’re a threat?”

Ell nodded.

Sounding exasperated, Roger said, “They’re primitives! How can they possibly be a threat?!”

Slowly, Ell said, “I assume you’re calling them primitives because they don’t seem to use machines?”

Emma had turned to stare at her husband, “I’m not so sure. Every damned one of them looks like it belongs to its own species! Even if they didn’t come from other star systems, how in the world are there so many different kinds of Virgies?!”

“We’ve got hundreds of thousands of different species here on earth. What’s so remarkable about some other planet having lots of different species?”

“Roger,” Emma said, speaking as if she thought her husband was particularly dense that morning. “They all seem to be intelligent!”

Ell interjected at this point, “That’s not completely true. There were those minnow-sized fish, and the insect-like things.”

Emma said, “You know what I mean. Everything of any significant size has hands and they all seem to talk to each other. Even the fish! You saw those dolphin and whale sized sea-creatures—they had hands too! And the land creatures that live near the sea, most of them had adaptations for swimming—fins, webbed feet, blowholes.”

Roger made a small throwing-up-his-hands motion, “So, what are you proposing? Do you think there’s some kind of high radiation background causing mutations? An environmental agent that causes rapid evolutionary divergence?”

“What I’m proposing,” Emma said, glancing at Ell, “is that we need a biologist on this team! It’s just ridiculous for three people trained in physics to be trying to figure this out!”

Ell grinned at her friend, “I thought you were one of those people who claim physics is the ‘science of everything.’ Surely you don’t need assistance from a non-physicist?”

Emma looked down at the table with an expression that mixed a frown and a grin. “I say that kind of stuff to non-physicists to keep them in their places. But, I’ll admit that occasionally they have their uses.” She shrugged, “Radiation or chemical mutagens, or anything else I can think of, wouldn’t give you a wide variety of intelligent species on one planet. They would give you a huge number of sick freaks of nature, most of whom would be dying. The few that actually had beneficial mutations would rapidly outcompete the others and soon become the only ones you could find!”

Ell said, “But, maybe once you got a mutation that gave you intelligence… perhaps they developed the social conscience to protect the ones that couldn’t compete as well. Thus you’d get… many different species that…” Ell had begun frowning as she said this and was practically wincing by the time she’d gotten to that point in her thought. “That idea has a lot of holes in it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, the holes in that Swiss are so big there isn’t much cheese left.” Emma gave a little laugh, “It is really good to hear you roll out such a clunker though.” She waved a dismissive hand, “At the very least you’d have to ask where all the creatures with failed mutations are. If they have a social conscience that takes care of the ones that don’t compete strongly, where do they draw the line between those and the ones they euthanize because they can’t even take care of themselves?”

“All this discussion is well and good,” Roger said, “but none of it really affects the bottom line. I don’t care how many different kinds of intelligent species they’ve evolved on this planet. None of them seem to be smart enough to build a technology that could threaten us!”

Ell shook her head, “There’s something about it that still leaves me really uncomfortable. I think I’m gonna have to show this stuff to Dr. Wheat.”

Chapter Five

Jamieson sat in an old beater of a Hyundai, keeping an eye on the main road leaving the neighborhood where Donsaii and her kid actually lived. He slouched low in the seat so his head wouldn’t be visible. His eyes were focused on the screen he held in his lap. It displayed the image from the AI -controlled telephoto lens mounted on his dashboard.

A car came around the corner and the AI zoomed in on the driver. Blonde. At first Jamieson wasn’t sure who it was, but as the car approached he realized it was Kinrais, the presumed father of Donsaii’s kid. He stayed slouched.

A couple of cars passed that Jamieson didn’t recognize, then a dark blue Ford Focus came out with a brunette woman driving. His surveillance of the Kinrais place had shown a dark blue Ford Focus coming and going, so Jamieson perked up. He had the AI check the passenger seat, but there didn’t seem to be anyone there.

Jamieson had the AI shift the view to the cameras he’d mounted in trees on either side of the road so that he could get a view down into a vehicle and look for the kid. The cameras were panning along the roadway under AI control, following the car and, as the car came up beside them, he saw a fat little kid sitting on some kind of booster seat in the back.

The car went by and Jamieson sat up to pull out, going the opposite direction. He turned at the next corner and went around the block on manual, pushing the vehicle well above the speed limit so as not to lose too much ground. He rejoined the main road a couple of blocks behind the Focus and turned control back over to the car’s AI.

Jamieson didn’t try to tell the AI to follow the Focus, instead, he directed it verbally to turn onto each road the Focus turned on. Eventually they pulled up in front of a small cluster of buildings with a line of vehicles out front. When Jamieson went by, kids were getting out of cars and running inside. Jamieson stopped about 100 meters down the road and queried his AI for the name of the facility.

It was the “Chapel Hill School for the Gifted.” Pompous asses, Jamieson thought, probably don’t think their kid’s shit stinks either. No big surprise that Donsaii would think her kid had to go to a school like that!

Donsaii didn’t get out of her vehicle. The Ford Focus stopped momentarily to let the kid out and a teacher greeted him. The car drove around the circle and back out the other way. Jamieson could tell that some of the cars didn’t even have adults in them. Apparently the parents just sent the kid to school in the car, counting on the AI to take the kid to the right place and drop them off. Jamieson shrugged, it didn’t seem unreasonable since driving from one location to another was one thing AI’s were really good at.

He wondered why Donsaii went with her kid. Maybe the kid hates school and she can’t count on him to get out when the car arrives?

Jamieson pulled back out and followed the Focus as it left the school. He didn’t notice either of the two cars that had settled in to wait, one just past the school and one near the approach to the school.

Unfortunately, the three members of Ell’s security team sitting in those cars didn’t notice Jamieson either.

***

Ms. Binder looked out over the kids in her kindergarten classroom. They were working some simple math problems. Adding or subtracting the number of dots on dominoes that were pictured on the screens built into their desks. They were doing very well, as you might expect in a school for the gifted.

Every one of the kids in there had tested high or they wouldn’t have been present. Still, some were smarter than others. She kind of felt bad for the kids who would have been the smartest children in their classrooms if they were going to a regular school, but here found it difficult to keep up with their classmates.

And then there was Zage Kinrais. He’d already finished the exercise.

That boy almost always appeared to be daydreaming. Staring off into space, not paying attention. You’d think he was a terrible student. However, whenever she called on him, he knew the answer to the question. She’d gone back to look at how he’d done on the testing to get into CHSG and he’d scored at the very top of the range for a child his age. This left her feeling conflicted. Sometimes she thought he couldn’t really be all that smart. That the test must’ve placed him so highly through some kind of a fluke.

Other times, she wondered whether the test had failed to properly measure him because of the “ceiling effect.” Could it be that the test just didn’t ask hard enough questions to be able to tell how smart this kid actually was?

On the other hand, could he be somewhere on the autism spectrum? Is that why he spent so much time staring off into space, yet did so well on math problems?

She’d been wondering this for days. If he had such a problem, he should have some difficulty interacting with the other kids. Binder watched him during their play time though, and he seemed to get along fine with them. Though he gave her somewhat of a creepy feeling—as if he were out watching the kids and keeping them out of trouble just like she was.

She started walking down the row, looking at what the kids were doing with their problems and offering suggestions for those few who were having a little trouble. She paused when she got to Zage’s chair. Her AI told her that he’d gotten them all right, so she didn’t actually need to look at his answers. He was staring off into space as if he hadn’t noticed her pausing beside his chair. She leaned down next to him, “Zage, what’s 234 times 475?”

He immediately said, “111,150,” then he blinked, looked startled, and turned to look accusingly up at her. “Why’d you ask me that?”

Binder looked up at her HUD and saw that her AI had confirmed 111,150 as the correct answer. She looked back down at Zage, “We aren’t actually teaching you anything here, are we?”

Zage stared at her for a moment, then said, “You’re giving me experience in getting along with my peers.”

A little shiver ran over her. He’d sounded like he was quoting someone else. Not knowing what to say, she turned to go back to the front of the room.

***

Harald Wheat looked up at a movement in his doorway. Ell Donsaii! He stood, “Ell! What are you doing here at NCSU?”

She gave him a little smile, “Came to consult. Wanna watch another little video with me?”

“Sure!” he said, but feeling guilty that Ell had wasted her time traveling to see him, he said “But, why are you coming to me. You know I’d be happy to come to you wherever you want.”

She looked around, “Wanted to see your new digs. The last time I was here… Well, I guess the only time I was here, years ago, was before the university had done all this building and remodeling. Nice office.”

Wheat looked around at his large new office himself. “Yeah, I’ve kinda moved up in the world since someone offered me the opportunity to be the world’s first extraterrestrial biologist,” he said, giving her a wink. “But, you’re right, almost everybody’s office and lab is better than what we had back then. Some anonymous donor has been providing the University with huge amounts of money. Most of it goes to physics, but,” he shrugged, “some of it spatters on other departments—like biology.”

“Yeah, I’d heard something about that,” Ell said enigmatically.

“Well,” Wheat said, “since the first video you ever showed me changed my life, I’ll always be happy to have a look at whatever else you might have on tap. Is it something from BC4?”

“I’d… rather not say where it’s from,” Ell said uncomfortably. “Is it okay if I close your office door?” she said putting her hand on the knob.

“Of course,” Wheat said, starting to feel a bit on edge from the way Ell was behaving. In a moment, she’d put him even more on edge by getting him to swear to secrecy. This time, she wasn’t just asking him to keep it a secret for a few years before publishing, she was asking him to agree to keep it a secret forever if she deemed that what he learned was too dangerous. At first he rebelled, but then, thinking about who she was, he agreed.

Ell said, “Please understand that my gut feeling is that you’ll be able to tell the world about this someday. But you have to go into it understanding that I might decide it’s too dangerous for the world to know about.” She spoke to her AI and a moment later the big screen on the wall of his office opened up a view on another world. Not BC4. Instead of BC4’s wildly competitive vegetation, what he saw looked more like a manicured park. Not exactly, because none of the vegetation he saw looked like it had been cut back with shears or lawnmowers or similar devices. It simply looked like it was growing… exactly where someone wanted it to grow. Plants appeared to be growing just as much as their horticulturists wanted, but no further. Plants that weren’t striving to gather sunlight at the expense of their neighbors by driving higher and higher into the air. Even the plants in a manicured park here on Earth would have been striving to rob their neighbors of the light, they just wouldn’t have been allowed to achieve those goals because of ever-vigilant trimming by landscapers.

Then, just as Wheat was about to comment on the plant life, three animals appeared. Animals with different body plans! They were all bilaterally symmetrical, but they had different numbers of limbs! All of them had hands, which was surprising enough, but one of the three had four hands!

And they looked like they were communicating with one another!

Wheat closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then reopened them, but the bizarre aliens were still there. He wanted to accuse Ell of using sophisticated computer graphics to generate ridiculous and unreasonable aliens in an effort to test his gullibility. He would have accused her of that, if he hadn’t already done so when he and Ell first met, only to learn that she was showing him the reality of the world that was TC3.

The world that had changed his life.

After a few more moments, he tore his eyes away from the screen to look at Ell. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that what I’m seeing is real. No one made it up, no matter how ridiculous it looks?”

Ell nodded. Instead of looking amused like she had years ago when they’d first met, this time she looked completely serious.

Wheat glanced back at the screen, then turned back to Ell. “Have you stumbled over some interstellar civilization or meeting place?” He looked at the screen once again, “‘Cause those… beings couldn’t have all come from the same place.”

Ell shook her head, “We don’t think so.” She went over her thoughts on how unlikely it would be that intelligent beings from different worlds would be able to live in each other’s environments without significant adaptive devices. “Not only do we not see adaptive respiratory equipment, but we aren’t really finding any technologically advanced mechanisms on this world. We certainly haven’t seen any evidence that they’re scientifically advanced in ways that might allow them to travel interstellar distances.”

“So… You’re saying that you think this one world has evolved three different intelligent species that are so different they don’t even have the same number of limbs or eyes—yet somehow, the laws of evolution have failed to eradicate the less successful and elevate the elite?”

Ell let out a long sigh, “You’re going to have to watch more video ‘cause it’s more than three species… A lot more…”

After some discussion, Ell left Wheat sitting in his office and watching video with more and more bewilderment. “Call me this afternoon,” she’d said, “after you’ve figured this out.” But, for the life of him, he’d never seen anything that fit quite so poorly with all that he knew.

Or believed he knew.

Late that afternoon he spoke to his AI, “See if you can put through a call to Ell Donsaii.” When she answered, he said, “I’m damned if I understand it. You said for me to call you this afternoon when I’d figured it out, but all I have are some half-baked hypotheses.”

“Hit me with ‘em. All my ideas haven’t even gone in the oven.”

“Okay… Number one, you found a world that used to be a crossroads of many different interstellar civilizations. Those civilizations have since collapsed, leaving all these different species on this one world… I know you said you’ve seen no signs of advanced technology, but do orbital surveys show anything that might be the remains of an ancient technological civilization?”

“Other than the hexagonal grids of the ‘cities’ that you’ve looked at, no. At first we thought they represented the overgrown remnants of ancient cities that were hexagonally arranged, but you’ve seen now that they’re actually grown that way out of vegetation. We haven’t even seen any evidence for walls underlying the hexagons.”

“Okay,” Wheat said, sounding very disappointed. “Number two, something in the environment there results in an extremely high mutation rate. The aliens have an extremely high birth rate and are ruthlessly suppressing all the mutations that are counter-beneficial… That would be by far the vast majority of all of their children, by the way.”

Ell didn’t say anything for a moment, then said slowly, “Yeah, we’ve discussed that possibility. It would seem that if they were having to… terminate… way over ninety-nine percent of their pregnancies or newborns, we’d see pregnant Virgies everywhere just so they could keep up. And… wouldn’t there still be a tendency for the more successful body plans to have wiped out the less successful ones?”

“Yeah,” Wheat said, “I don’t like that one either. In fact, every hypothesis I can come up with founders on the question of why the successful Virgies haven’t wiped out the less effective ones.”

***

Vanessa looked back over her shoulder. Instead of the handsome father, a woman with brown hair, presumably Zage’s mother, had dropped him off at the lab today. Vanessa had been feeling guilty about taking money for supervising Zage in the lab when she rarely ever did anything. The kid had figured out how to order all of his reagents and had completely mastered the DNA sequencer. He came in and ran his projects while Vanessa worked on her own experiments. He essentially rarely asked her for anything and really didn’t seem to need her help.

It seemed crazy for her to try to shoo away the golden goose, but she felt like she was ripping them off. When the lady appeared, Vanessa went over and said, “Zage doesn’t really need my help anymore, so I don’t think it’s fair for me to keep taking your money for watching over him.”

The woman looked a little bit surprised, but she simply said, “Please don’t worry about it. We’re happy to pay you as agreed just so you can be available if he does need some help.” She looked down at Zage and winked at him, “And, of course, to make sure he doesn’t do something dangerous by accident. We know he’s surprisingly capable, but that doesn’t mean that he couldn’t overlook some safety procedure or accidentally do something that no one’s taught him could be dangerous.”

Whether it felt unethical or not, Vanessa hadn’t refused to take the money when it was pushed at her that way. The woman hadn’t seemed at all concerned about the expense so it was hard to turn it down. Nonetheless she still felt a little guilty and had continued musing on the situation to herself. Looking up she realized that Zage wasn’t using the sequencer like he had all the other times he’d come to the lab. He was over at the DNA assembly set up. Maybe he does need me if he’s trying something new? She got up and walked over his way. “What’re you doing today?”

Zage looked up at her and she got the feeling he was trying to gauge how she might react to what he was about to say. “I’m going to try to generate a plasmid so I can express a peptide in E. coli.”

It was a simple enough sentence, but it held a lot of complexity. Once again Vanessa found herself flabbergasted to hear something like that coming out of the mouth of a five-year-old. She’d have been surprised enough if it came out of one of the undergraduates. “Um, what peptide?”

The boy chewed his lip for a moment, then he said, “It doesn’t have a name. It’s just a 31 residue peptide that I think will ‘flip’ Trim28 expression.” When Vanessa didn’t say anything, because her mind was trying to catch up with what he’d said, he apparently thought she wanted him to explain, “I was just going to try to get E. coli to make Trim28, but it has 835 amino acids. Then I realized that I actually only wanted to increase its expression.” He shrugged, “I know, a lot of people have already tried unsuccessfully to ‘flip on’ its expression, but I found this obscure paper that made me think a peptide might be designed to do it.” Vanessa was still trying to process what he’d said, but apparently Zage realized just how far out such a proposal was. He said, “I know… it almost certainly won’t work.” He shrugged again, “But I’d still like to try it. It’s a good practice run for me to learn to use the equipment, if nothing else.”

“Um, okay.” Vanessa frowned, “What are you doing now?”

Zage looked at the machine, “I put my sequence into the DNA synthesizer. Hopefully, it’s generating right now. It’d be great if you checked my settings?” He looked up at Vanessa hopefully.

She’d be in the lab late with her own project if she did, but Vanessa thought to herself, I really should earn the money they’re paying me, I guess.

An hour later, Vanessa found her brain reeling once again. She’d gone over the DNA base pairs in his sequence, and found a mistake, she’d thought. It had turned out that she was wrong and Zage was right. She’d gone over how he’d set up the machine and tried to change a setting, but he pulled up the manual and showed her how the way she’d always done it decreased the efficiency of DNA synthesis. He’d even inserted a terminal sequence to use in purification that she’d thought he wouldn’t know about.

Dammit!

So once again, she was wondering why she was supervising him, rather than vice versa. She tried not to sound irritated, “Well, as near as I can tell, you’ve really got this part down. Maybe I’ll be able to help you get the plasmid into the E. coli strain, or purify your peptide or something like that.”

“That’d be great! I really appreciate your help.”

It would be great, if I’d actually ever helped you! She wondered if he was just humoring her.

She reminded herself that she was actually very smart. It was just in comparison…

***

Jamieson lay on the bed in the crappy little hotel room he was staying in this week, staring at the ceiling and considering possible plans.

The simplest would be to just go break into the Kinrais house in the middle of the night. Find Donsaii and Kinrais, Taser, trank, and bind them up. Find the kid, hold him down and trank him. Once they were all bound and torpid, he could carry mother and child out to the car and head for a safe house. Darkness would provide a huge advantage because Jamieson could wear night vision goggles. Also, Donsaii wouldn’t be wearing her AI in bed so she wouldn’t be able to get the word out.

Not knowing the terrain inside the home would be a major disadvantage. Tripping over toys, stepping on squeaking boards, setting off alarms—those all represented nightmares that could require an abort. An aborted mission would result in a much higher security level at Donsaii’s house during any further attempts. Jamieson might not respect Donsaii’s security team, but even they would make things much more difficult if Jamieson had to try again. Much as he’d like to work at night, he really didn’t like that plan.

The other possibility was to take them, either coming or going from the school. This would take a bigger team. He’d need someone to run the car off the road, and more vehicles to block it front and back. There was a stretch of country road between the home and the school where there weren’t any houses or other observers. If they did it there and one of Jamieson’s vehicles had flashing lights so that passing cars would think the police were already on the scene, he probably wouldn’t have to deal with any strangers. The isolated stretch was pretty far away from Donsaii’s farm and the security team headquartered there. Jamieson would have to Taser and trank Donsaii and her kid almost immediately, then start transporting her somewhere else in a nondescript vehicle. He didn’t mind spending some cash for help, so an advantage would be that he’d have quite a few team members there to help him carry out the snatch. There were multiple roads on which he could egress the area. Disadvantages were numerous. It’d be daylight so she’d see it coming. She’d have her AI on so she’d contact her team or the police before he could stop her. He’d have to get her AI off, put her in a vehicle, and get her and the kid the hell out of Dodge before anyone could arrive in response to her message. Also, he could find a couple of reliable people to help, but some of the people you could get for this kind of job were likely to be idiots. He’d have to hide his identity from them because they’d almost certainly get caught.

He sighed. He felt almost certain that he was going to have to go with the daylight mission just so he could carry it out at a distance from her security team. Oh well, I’ve got to find a place to hide them away before I do anything anyway. I can keep thinking about the actual mission in the meantime.

***

During dinner Shan winced when Ell asked Zage how school had been. She’d asked him such questions in the past and he had calmly explained just how horribly boring it was to sit in that classroom. The topic was agonizing because Shan and Ell had no way to determine whether having their son spend time at a school he hated was worthwhile. He certainly wasn’t learning anything there except, possibly, how to get along with other kids. They both worried that he was going to find it difficult to get along with people, but didn’t really know how to help him learn those skills. Shan himself flip-flopped frequently from thinking he should go to the school to feeling like it was a useless waste of Zage’s time. Unfortunately, neither he nor Ell could think of a better way for Zage to learn age appropriate people skills.

Apparently, Zage had decided to stop torturing them with descriptions of his day, because he answered in a fashion more typical for a surly teenager, “Fine.”

Shan didn’t know whether to be unhappy about the short dismissive answer, or glad not to have to hear about how bad kindergarten was. Evidently, Ell wasn’t sure what to do with the answer either. She finished chewing and swallowed, then asked, “What did you do in the lab this afternoon?”

Zage visibly brightened at this question, “I purified my peptide.”

Shan wasn’t sure what a peptide was, and evidently Ell wasn’t completely sure either, because she asked, “A peptide is… like a small protein, right?”

Zage nodded, “Yeah, the same thing, except for the size. Usually fewer than 40 amino acids is called a peptide because when you get longer than that the chain tends to fold up.”

Ell tilted her head questioningly, “I thought you were sequencing your DNA. When did you start making a peptide?”

Zage explained that he thought he’d had an adenoviral infection that’d inserted some DNA into the genome of at least some of his cells. “I think the inserted genes have ‘flipped the switch’ on my expression of Trim28…” He looked at his parents curiously as if wondering whether they were comprehending him. “Trim28’s a protein that regulates several other genes. When there isn’t very much of it, both rats and people tend to get obese.”

“What’s this have to do with you making a peptide?”

“I think this peptide will upregulate Trim28… um, that means turn the cells on to make more Trim28.”

Irritated to have his five-year-old son explaining things to him as if he were the child, Shan wanted to snap that he knew what “upregulate” meant. He bit his tongue however, realizing that he really did need explanations of most of the things Zage was saying.

Especially, when Zage went on, “The purification process is kind of cool.”

Shan said, “How do you purify it?”

Zage’s eyes gleamed, “Well, when I programmed the peptide’s sequence into the DNA synthesizer, I added a ‘tag’ to the end of it. The tag binds to a granular resin you pour into a pipe. So you pulverize the E. coli, filter all the cellular junk out, and run everything else through this resin filled pipe. All the rest of the proteins and other stuff that came out of the E. coli go on through the pipe, but my peptide gets stuck to the resin inside because it’s still attached to the sticky tag. Then, this is the cool part, you run some more fluid through the pipe that has a different pH and the tag breaks right off of the peptide. So when that fluid comes out the bottom of the pipe, it’s got pretty much pure peptide in it! Pretty cool, huh?”

Shan nodded, but Ell’s eyes had narrowed. She said, “And what are you going to do with this peptide?”

“Um, well, that would be the hardest part. You can’t swallow peptides, they get digested. That’s why insulin has to be injected…” He looked up at his parents to make sure they understood what he was saying. Apparently deciding that they didn’t look confused, he continued, “So, I’d have to inject it.” He shrugged, “And you know how I hate needles.”

Ell looked horrified, “You think you’re going to inject this peptide into yourself?!”

“Um, I haven’t been able to think of any other way to get it inside where it can have an effect.”

Wide-eyed, Ell said, “You can’t do an experiment like that on yourself!”

“Why not? If it doesn’t work, I won’t have lost anything. I’ll still be fat, that’s all.”

“What if it turns out, for some reason you haven’t considered, that this peptide has some other effect? A toxic effect!” Ell glanced wide eyed at Shan, then back at Zage, “Aren’t some venoms peptides?”

Zage looked uncomfortable, “They are, but they’re nothing like this one.”

“Still,” Ell said seriously, “what if it was some other kind of poison? Or a carcinogen? Or similar enough to insulin that it dropped your blood sugar… a big dose of insulin can kill you, you know?”

Zage stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, “The random ordering of 31 amino acids? That’s 31 shriek! That’s a huge number!” He turned to his dad the mathematician, “How big is it, dad?”

“31 shriek is eight to the 33rd power,” his mother said grimly, “which is an enormous number, but the number of permutations of your peptide wouldn’t really be that big, ‘cause there’re only 20 amino acids, not 31.”

Zage’s eyes flashed to his mother, “How did you know that?!” he asked suspiciously. Apparently he’d believed his dad might estimate the size of 31 shriek in his head since he was a mathematician, but obviously he hadn’t thought that his mother would have any idea.

“My AI told me,” Ell said dryly.

Zage looked a little startled, apparently thinking that he should have realized she might get the answer from her AI rather than concluding that she’d done it in her head even if the answer had come very quickly. He shrugged, “So, the chances of me randomly generating something toxic is infinitesimal. Even 20 shriek is huge.”

Ell shook her head, “You didn’t generate anything randomly though, did you? You specifically designed a peptide that you think is going to do something. If you were to take a deck of cards and lay them out in an order that was pleasing to you, the chances that I might lay them out in the same order is a lot less than 52 shriek.”

Zage got a distant look, then he shrugged, apparently accepting his mother’s thesis. “I guess.” He got a mulish look on his face, “I still don’t think it would be dangerous though.”

“You think it’s going to do something powerful, i.e. make you lose weight. You just can’t assume that it will be able to do that without thinking that there’s a chance that it might generate some other, possibly dangerous, side effects!” She shook her head, “There aren’t any other medications that don’t have side effects.”

Zage looked chastened for a moment, but then he said, “But I really think this will work! How else am I going to test it?!”

Ell looked at him fondly for a moment, “I’m really not an expert at this, so you probably should ask Dr. Turner or Vanessa. I think the way it’s usually done is that first you test it on some cells in tissue culture. You can’t see if the cells lose weight, obviously, but,” she lifted an eyebrow, “you could see if they die. And,” she shrugged, “maybe there’s some way to measure whether they make more Trim28?”

“Oh…” Zage said, looking like a light had just come on.

“Then, if that seems to be okay,” Ell continued, “maybe you could try it in some of those obese rats you were talking about?”

Zage sat for a minute, staring at nothing, evidently thinking, then said, “I’ll talk to Vanessa about it. If we’re going to test it in rats, though, I’ll have to ask her to apply for an animal protocol approval. I’m almost sure the university won’t let me apply for it myself.” His eyes shifted back and forth from his mother to his father, “Or do the injections… Uh, I’ve already spent most of the money you put in Dr. Turner’s lab account. This will cost quite a bit more…”

Shan and Ell looked at one another, “We’ll need to…”

Zage interrupted, “You could take me out of that expensive kindergarten and save some money that way,” he said hopefully.

Ell laughed merrily, “You’re not getting out of kindergarten that easily. I’m pretty sure we can come up with the money for you to keep doing your research. We think the time you spend in the lab’s really important for you.”

The smile that spread over Zage’s face warmed Shan’s heart. Then the kid narrowed his eyes and turned to his mother, “How come you even know about factorial numbers?”

Ell grinned at him, “My AI has strict instructions to feed me information about any esoteric subjects my smart-aleck son brings up.”

Zage looked suspiciously at his mother for another minute. Shan thought he probably found it hard to believe that, even if Alan could put the information up on the HUD in Ell’s contact, she could have read and understood it fast enough to respond as quickly as she had. However, he apparently decided not to express his doubts. After a minute he nodded as if he accepted her explanation. He said in a serious tone, “Thanks for letting me keep working in the lab. I know it’s a lot of money.”

Shan simply said, “You’re welcome.”

Ell reached out to ruffle his hair, “It is a lot of money, but we think it’s wonderful that you’re so interested in science. We don’t mind making some sacrifices so you can keep it up.”

Later that evening, Shan and Ell were both sitting on the couch looking at things on their own HUDs. Shan looked over at his wife. He’d been struggling with his new theory that gravity worked through Ell’s tiny fifth dimension. Although rough approximations had initially made it look like a very plausible explanation for many of the surprising physical facts about gravity, to his frustration, more precise calculations kept coming out just a little bit off.

Although he kept telling himself he wanted to figure this one out by himself, it was getting to the point that he thought bouncing it off of somebody would be very helpful. And, of course, the most obvious person to bounce it off of would be Ell.

However, the expression on her face showed that she was very frustrated with an issue of her own. He could tell she wasn’t really looking at whatever was being shown in her HUD. “Worried about Zage?” he asked.

“No,” she said, slowly shaking her head, “worried about extraterrestrials.”

“Thinking about what to do if we encounter even more dangerous ones?”

Ell shrugged, “We’ve already encountered some new ones and they’re what I’m worried about. The problem is that I can’t decide whether they’re actually dangerous or not.”

“Oh. Ones I haven’t heard about yet?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “let me tell you about them. Maybe you’ll have some ideas.” Ell went on to describe the world circling 61 Virginis, then the Virgies themselves.

“So,” Shan said musingly, lifting one finger, “you have a world where we could actually live.” He lifted another finger, “On that world you see no evidence of an advanced technological civilization. Rather you find primitive horticulturalists who use few if any tools.” Shan lifted a third finger, “They may have somehow been transported to 61 Virginis from other worlds, or, alternately, have mutated into what seems to be a large number of different intelligent species.” He frowned, “The only thing I can think of that might make them a threat would be the possibility that all the mutations came from some kind of bio-weapon that might spread to us?” He shrugged, “My thought would be that we certainly shouldn’t go there in person until we know, but they hardly seem to be a danger to us where they are.”

“I guess you’re right,” Ell said, “it’s just that there’re a lot of people who’d like to know about them. If the government knew about them, they’d want to start undertaking diplomatic missions and otherwise communicating with them. Some people would want to help them advance their technological level. There’d be a few crazies who’d want to wipe them out” She shook her head, “On the one hand, I’d like to at least let the scientists start trying to understand them and how they came to be. On the other, I feel guilty not letting the government know about them because, like you say, it’s hard to imagine a primitive people like theirs posing a danger to us. But… something about them… Just worries me.”

Zage’s voice came from behind them, “I don’t think they sound primitive. They’ve got to be purposefully modifying their own DNA to have developed the way you’ve described. They may not be very advanced in the physical sciences, but they’re way ahead of us in the biological ones.”

Shan and Ell had frozen, eyes widening at one another as soon as they heard their son’s voice back there. They’d had no idea he was in the room or they most certainly wouldn’t have been talking about that topic. Ell grimaced for a moment, then purposefully relaxed her face and turned slowly to look at Zage. “Um, I hope you understand that we wouldn’t want you to tell anyone about what you’ve just heard?”

Zage grinned at her, “Yeah, from what you said I got the impression you guys were spilling some pretty big secrets. Probably didn’t know I was back here, huh?”

Though she wanted to snap at him, Ell calmed herself and said in her most sober tone, “No. Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone what you’ve just heard?”

Zage nodded, a serious look on his face. “I understand. This is the kind of thing that Dr. Donsaii went to prison for, right? She didn’t want to tell the government about alien races until she was sure they were safe and the government felt like they had a right to know.”

Ell nodded, “So, you can understand that this is very serious business, right?”

“Sure. But,” he said, a big smile breaking across his face, “this is really cool stuff. I had no idea you worked in the part of D5R that dealt with the early exploration of ET planets! I knew you sometimes helped with interstellar stuff because you were on the team that helped the Teecees when they got hit by the asteroid, but I had no idea Dr. Donsaii trusted you enough to have you on the team that works with them before she’s sure they’re safe!”

Ell said, “She does trust me, but she wouldn’t be very happy if she knew I’d let my five-year-old son hear all this stuff.”

Zage frowned, his eyes going back and forth between his father and his mother. “Are you even supposed to be telling Dad about these aliens without Dr. Donsaii’s approval?”

Shan studied Ell as he wondered how she was going to dig herself out of this hole. In fact, she didn’t say anything for a moment, then she replied carefully to Zage, “Dr. Donsaii knows your dad and she trusts him.”

Zage turned to his dad, “Because you wrote that paper with her?”

Shan nodded, doing his best to keep a solemn look on his face. He looked at Ell and explained, “The DeWitt’s mentioned the K-D paper to Zage at the company picnic.”

Zage turned to his mother and frowned a little, “It doesn’t seem like the fact they’ve written a paper together would make her trust him on something like this though. Are you sure she’d be okay with it?”

Ell nodded, “She’s asked him for help on a similar problem in the past.”

“Oh, okay,” Zage said. Shan thought his son looked very impressed that his own father knew Ell Donsaii that well.

Ell said in a very serious tone, “Thank you Zage. I appreciate your willingness to keep this very important secret for me. I hope you’ll give some thought to the possibility that sometimes you can let a secret slip without meaning to, okay?”

“You mean,” Zage said, a little grin creeping up on his face, “like you just did?”

Ell snorted, “Yes! You’ve got me there, but I hope you’ll try to do better than I did, okay? Only talk to me or your dad about it OK?”

Zage got a very serious look on his face. “I will.” He turned, “Tanner,” he called to his dog, “here boy.” As the dog came running in from the other room, Zage patted his stomach, “Tanner and I are going out for a run, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ell said distractedly. “Um… Wait a minute. What was it you said about the aliens earlier?”

“I said, ‘I don’t think they’re primitive.’”

“I remember that part,” Ell said, “I’m just trying to remember your rationale.”

“Well, the only possible explanation for them to have so many different body plans without one becoming dominant over the others has to be because they’re purposefully modifying their own DNA. That way they can look like different species even though, underneath, they’re actually all from the same one.” He shrugged, “I guess by our definition they might have mutated themselves into a different species, but, you get what I mean. Anyway, they may not be using a lot of high tech, but they’ve got to be biological geniuses.”

“Wait a minute,” Shan said, “If they’re not technologically advanced, how are they purposefully modifying their own DNA?!”

“Well,” Zage said thoughtfully, “maybe calling them biological geniuses wouldn’t be quite correct. What I was thinking was that they might have evolved an organ or some other kind of structure or biologic process that lets them purposefully control DNA splicing.”

“So, you’re thinking that,” Ell said with a look of intense concentration, “they make their own random mutations? I don’t see how that’d be different from some kind of environmental influence that causes mutations. They’d still wind up with a lot of bad outcomes.”

“Not random. That would be a disaster. I’m picturing a system for adding various bits of DNA. Presumably, they know what those pieces of DNA do. Other pieces, perhaps they can guess what those fragments do—kind of like our sense of smell tells us what something is or was. Maybe they do make some random bits of DNA, but only actually insert them if their sense of ‘smell’ gives them the impression that that particular sequence might be beneficial. Maybe they even have some organ in their body where they can insert bits of DNA into cells to see what happens?”

“And…” Ell said, a focused look on her face as she tried to grasp what her son was saying, “you think that they then selectively and purposefully generate a genome for their offspring?”

“Well, sure, that too. But, I was thinking more that they might actually modify their own genomes as they see fit. The first thing they’d have to do would be to adjust their growth and repair systems to make themselves a little more like a fetus or a salamander. Then they could add limb buds or start new organs or eyes even in their adult forms. That way, all these different body plans you say you’re seeing could start out fairly similarly,” Zage shrugged, “or maybe not, if the parent designed the child differently to begin with. But then, even as adults, they could become more and more divergent in their body design depending on the desires of that particular individual. So, if someone wants to live by the sea, they might borrow some DNA, and perhaps modify other DNA, to build fins or whatever other aquatic structures they think would give them an advantage.” He tilted his head as if wondering whether his parents grasped the idea, “Intelligent design, of a sort.”

Shan, looking as if he were taken aback, said, “But, surely they’d immediately realize that intelligence has tremendous value. Once you’ve recognized that fact, what’s to keep you from evolving or building yourself a huge brain that makes you smarter than everyone else? Once you’ve done that, you could take over the world!”

Zage shrugged, “Big brains are expensive. It requires a lot of energy to power them and just making them larger doesn’t necessarily make them more effective. Einstein’s brain was smaller than average, which pretty strongly suggests that bigger isn’t necessarily better. One problem is that the neurons in a big brain get to be farther and farther apart so that they can’t communicate as well. You’ve got to remember that even though electrical depolarization is responsible for the way nerves function, they don’t actually send their impulses at the speed of light like many people assume. Even the faster nerves only transmit at a little over a hundred meters per second—about 225 miles an hour. That’s pretty fast, but nothing like electrical speeds, so a really big brain would get kind of slow.” He frowned, “Having a big brain might let you remember more, or do more complex calculations, without necessarily giving you the intuition it takes to figure things out. People with photographic memories aren’t necessarily really smart.”

Shan and Ell glanced at one another, stunned to be getting a lecture from their five-year-old son. Being lectured by a five-year-old seemed like it should be irritating, except for the fact that he’d been telling them so many things they didn’t know. Ell said, “So, you think maybe they use this ability to modify their own DNA… to adjust their own body plan so they can be more successful at whatever… career they take up? That the first one we saw, the one that had the big bundles of vegetation on his back might have decided on a career of transporting stuff from one town to another?”

Zage nodded, “Yeah, he’s working as a truck. It would seem crazy to us, because all our trucks are automated and it’s a boring job, but for them it might be a decent occupation if you like getting out and seeing the country. Same for some of those whale sized aquatic Virgies you were talking about.” He gave them a hopeful look, “I’d sure like to see some of the video you have of them.”

His mother snorted. “I’m sure you would. Let me… check into it,” she said, looking as if she couldn’t decide whether it would be a good idea.

Chapter Six

The man put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. He appeared to be just staring up at the ceiling, a behavior that always irritated Jamieson. However, he’d always done this when he was thinking and Jamieson had gotten used to it. Jamieson had used Roger before in some questionable enterprises, though not anything quite as obviously illegal as an out and out kidnapping like this one. In addition to being physically fit and very weapons capable, Roger was very good with tech stuff so Jamieson really wanted him for this mission.

But Jamieson worried that Roger might balk at kidnapping.

He also wondered whether Roger was really the man’s name, though it didn’t really matter. Jamieson was going by Arthur, rather than using his real name so it wasn’t like Roger was the only one. They were meeting in Richmond and Roger had no idea, as yet, who the targets of the kidnapping would be. So if Roger did object, he wouldn’t be able to give the plan away.

Roger’d been thinking about it for a long time though, and it was starting to put Jamieson on edge. He slid his hand surreptitiously into the cargo pocket on his pants to lightly grasp his Taser.

Then Roger tilted his chair back forward and said, “You’ll need a panel van without any windows. We can hang foil over any other openings from the front to the back. That’ll block all the GPS signals. Then if they have any tracking devices on them, they won’t know where they are.”

Jamieson narrowed his eyes, “I was just going to strip ‘em naked and toss their clothes.”

Roger shrugged, “That’d work, if they didn’t have a security team or if their security is actually as bad as you think it is. But if you’re wrong, the security team’ll be tracking you until you dump the woman and the kid’s stuff. If that security team gets a drone up in a hurry, they might have ‘eyes on’ before you get them out of their clothes, purses, backpacks, and other stuff and stop to toss all that crap out. Besides, now you’re going to be driving around with a couple of naked people in a vehicle with windows? And…”

Jamieson waved his hands to stop the litany, “Yeah, yeah, no problem. We’ve got to have a vehicle, no reason for it not to be a panel van. You can be in charge of that part of the prep. You in?”

Roger gave him a predatory look, “Kidnapping’s a capital offense. I’m not getting on board for the offer you’ve made. I’ll need more up front and more on the back end.”

Irritated, Jamieson didn’t say anything for about 20 seconds. But Roger was the best guy he knew of for this job. And he’d already earmarked a million for expenses. He nodded, “I’ll double it.”

Roger grinned, “Triple it.”

Jamieson thought back to how he himself had kept raising the price on Wang. Rather than negotiate further, he just said okay.

***

Shan was pouring his breakfast cereal when his AI said, “You have a call from Agnetha Olssen in Stockholm.”

Not knowing anyone in Sweden, Shan blinked in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I’ll take it… Hello, this is Shannon Kinrais.”

A woman’s voice said, “Hello Dr. Kinrais I am Agnetha Olssen, calling for the Nobel selection committee in physics. I am pleased to tell you that the committee has chosen your paper regarding the galactic rotation paradox as the recipient for this year’s Prize.”

Shan grabbed the back of one of their kitchen chairs, pulling it out and dropping unsteadily into it. “Um, really?”

“Yes Dr. Kinrais. We’ll be sending your invitation to the ceremonies by mail as well as electronically. I hope that you don’t have any major conflict for early December?”

“Um, no, I’m… sure I can reschedule any commitments I may have. Um, will my co-author be getting a similar notification?”

“Yes, I’ll be calling her as soon as we’re done.”

A moment later the call had been disconnected. Ell looked up from her eggs, “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or like you’ve heard one, I guess.”

Feeling a little lightheaded, Shan choked out a little laugh, “Yeah, Alfred’s ghost.”

Ell frowned curiously, “Alfred?”

Trying to play it off as if it was no big deal, Shan gave a casual wave and said, “Alfred Nobel, you know, that guy?”

Ell lifted an eyebrow, “The K-D paper?”

“Don’t you go trying to act all casual on me!”

Ell lifted a finger for a pause as she got her own call from Agnetha Olssen. Once she’d disconnected, she said, “Well, that’s nice.”

Shan rolled his eyes, “‘That’s nice’ she says. Just because she already has a Peace Prize and a Prize in physics. No big deal for her.” He made another casual wave of his hand, “Hell, she’s practically rolling in them!”

Ell grinned at him and put another forkful of eggs in her mouth. With her other hand she made a “come on” motion as if inviting him to heap more abuse on her.

Shan stepped over to her, pulled her to her feet, threw his arms around her and danced her around the kitchen. In her ear, he whispered, “This may not be a big deal to you, but it’s a big deal to me! Spit out those eggs… Your Nobel Prize-winning husband is taking you out to breakfast!”

Ell leaned back and frowned up at him, “I’ve got a BC4 meeting this morning.”

Shan shrugged expansively, “And I’ve got a faculty meeting. We’re blowing them off! It’s not every day your husband wins the Nobel Prize.”

A little grin lifted the corner of her mouth, “Okay, we’ll play hooky. Who’s going to take Zage to school?”

“We’ll drop the little beggar off on our way.”

“Are you going to tell him about your Prize?”

“Nah, I’m not a braggart. He’ll find out soon enough and be more impressed if I didn’t beat my own drum.”

Ell snorted, “You’ve been beating your own drum around me!”

Shan tried to look haughty, “I have to beat my own drum around you, otherwise you’d hardly notice you had a husband…”

Ell pulled him in for another hug, “I do so notice you… you’re my Nobel prize-winning piece of eye candy.”

***

When Shan got to work after their breakfast out, he’d missed the faculty meeting as expected. Instead, he went directly to teach his first class. When he arrived, with some trepidation he saw Dr. Benson, the department chairman standing outside the classroom door tapping his foot. As Shan approached, Benson said, “You missed the faculty meeting!”

“Um, yeah, my wife and I…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish by saying, “went out to breakfast instead.”

“Well, you know the saying.” Dr. Benson said opening the door to the classroom and motioning Shan in, “If you can’t bring Mohammed to the mountain, you must bring the mountain to Mohammed.”

As Shan stepped into the classroom, thunderous applause broke out. Shan saw almost the entire math faculty standing in the front of the room applauding with the students. “Oh, I guess you already heard…”

***

Harald Wheat walked out of the BC4 meeting at D5R. At first he’d been terribly disappointed that Ell Donsaii wasn’t there, but then the word had excitedly filtered around the room that she’d won another Nobel Prize. He decided that he probably would have skipped the meeting himself.

Nonetheless, the extraterrestrial biology they were seeing at BC4 was quite exciting, especially in its implications for understanding Earth’s dinosaur age. The gravity on BC4 was a little lower than Earth’s, and that, in combination with its extremely dense air seemed to be what made BC4’s enormous animals possible. At a hundred and eighty-eight atmospheres of pressure, the density of the air on BC4 was almost ¼ the density of water so that the huge animals’ weight was somewhat supported like it would be if they were wading or swimming.

Earth’s dinosaurs were so huge that it was extremely difficult to reconcile their size with the possibility that they might ambulate. This had been such a problem that for a long time it had been proposed that the big land dinosaurs actually were swamp waders. After all, the biggest animal of all time, the blue whale, supported its weight in water. The pterodactyloid flyers of the dinosaur age were also far too big to fly in Earth’s current gravity and atmospheric density. But all this, in combination with what they’d seen on BC4, really made it appear to be more likely that Earth’s atmospheric density had been much higher back in the time of the dinosaurs.

Wheat couldn’t help thinking about the possibility of writing papers not only on the biology of BC4, but also on the implications it had for paleontology. He’d been dying to tell Ell about these exciting ideas, but had enjoyed discussing them with the rest of the BC4 team.

He’d also been hoping to talk to Ell about 61 Virginis, so when she came around the corner as he was leaving, his emotions surged with some hope. “Ell!” Then, remembering what he’d heard this morning, he said, “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s pretty exciting. Sorry I missed the meeting.”

Wheat thought about what it must be like to win a third Nobel. Well, it must be pretty crazy to win a first one. “I’ve been hoping to talk to you…” He broke off, thinking that if she’d been too busy to attend the meeting, she might not want to talk to him one on one right now either.

Instead, she smiled at him, “I was hoping to talk to you too. About,” her eyes glanced at someone coming down the hall behind him, “our other issue.”

Assuming she wanted to talk about 61 Virginis, but didn’t want to say it where anyone else could hear, Wheat said, “That’d be great.”

A few minutes later, they were in one of D5R’s little conference rooms. Ell said, “So, have you had any other ideas about the Virgies?”

Wheat shrugged, “I’ve had kind of a crazy idea based on some old science fiction stories I read by David Brin. They were based on the idea of ‘uplift,’ wherein intelligent species purposefully modified less intelligent species to make them intelligent. So, you could imagine that if one species on 61 Virginis had developed intelligence naturally, it might have uplifted other species to intelligence as well.” He waved his hands as if fending off Ell’s incoming objections, “I know, I know. It would be hard to believe that the original intelligent species would uplift so many others, rather than just a few. Also, I have no explanation for how they could have uplifted others when they apparently haven’t developed the technology to do so. You could propose that they had such technology and lost it, but then I don’t see how to deal with the objection that many of those intelligent sub species should have devolved or been outcompeted since they lost that know-how.”

Ell frowned in intense concentration, then said, “What if… they had a way to ‘uplift’ other species that didn’t require technological sophistication?”

“What?!” Wheat asked, flabbergasted by the proposition.

Ell shrugged, “Supposing, that they had some biological ability to do so. Something innate or inborn. Picture them… able to suck out a sample of blood from the other species, modify some of its DNA in an organ they’d evolved, then reinject it with some new genes that increase intelligence.”

Wheat blinked, “That doesn’t make any sense! Why would they have evolved such an organ in the first place?!”

“Okay,” Ell said. “How about this idea?” She proceeded to outline the possibility that a species might have evolved the ability to modify its own DNA. This involved crazy ideas like being able to have a sense that allowed them to “taste” DNA molecules and innately know what those molecules would do. Then they would insert snippets of DNA into their own or their offspring’s genomes that would modify their own physical shapes or abilities.

Wheat’s initial impression that the idea was ridiculous beyond belief foundered on the problem that he certainly had no more plausible explanation. Thinking about Arthur Conan Doyle’s saying that “when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” Harald lifted his hands palm up in a helpless gesture. “Maybe? To tell the truth, it sounds crazy. However, I just don’t have a better explanation.”

Ell got an expression on her face that Wheat found difficult to interpret. She looked a little bit happy, like you might expect if he’d just supported a favorite hypothesis, and at the same time a little bit irritated, as if he’d supported a hypothesis she didn’t like. He didn’t get to quiz her about it though, she ushered him out promising to tell him when she had any more data. He made a final plea, “If you could get us some samples of DNA from some of those different… looking aliens, we could sequence it to figure out how closely related they actually are.”

Ell stopped to look at him with some surprise for a moment, then said, “We’re not importing DNA from another world!”

Startled, Wheat frowned, “Why not?!”

“I think of DNA as a von Neumann machine. Traveling across the galaxy, populating worlds with viable conditions, replicating itself, and sending out more emissaries. We don’t want to bring back alien DNA that might take over our world.”

“Oh…” Wheat said, thinking furiously.

***

Vanessa looked up when she heard the door to the lab open. Zage was there, along with the woman who’d been bringing him most of the time lately. Vanessa missed seeing the boy’s handsome father. However, the chances that a Nobel Prize winner would show up to drop off his son in the lab the day his prize had been announced seemed remote. I can dream though, can’t I?

Instead of turning immediately to the lab bench like he usually did, Zage walked over to her. “Ms. Jenkins? I’m hoping to ask a favor.”

Vanessa bent down, “Before we talk about your favor, I wanted to say that, even though it seemed unlikely, I was hoping your dad would bring you in to the lab today so I could congratulate him.”

Zage blinked at her, “Congratulate my dad?”

“Yeah, you know, for his Nobel Prize?”

Zage at first looked stunned, then his eyes narrowed, “What?!”

Astonished, Vanessa was about to say, “They didn’t tell you?!” But then, realizing that perhaps his parents were trying to keep it a secret for some reason, stumblingly said, “Sorry, just teasing you.”

But by then, Zage had muttered to his AI and was staring wide-eyed up off into space like he did when he was looking at the HUD in his contact. “With Ell Donsaii!” He breathed, almost sounding like the fact his father was treading ground with Dr. Donsaii impressed him more than the Nobel Prize itself.

“Sorry,” Vanessa said, “they’re probably trying to surprise you with it. Maybe you could still act surprised when they tell you?”

“Wow!” Zage said, as if he hadn’t heard. In a hushed tone, he continued, “Maybe I’ll get to meet Ell Donsaii at some kind of ceremony or something.”

“Maybe you will,” Vanessa said, giving Zage a little fist bump. “Congratulate your dad for me, okay?”

“Okay…” Zage said, then stood there for a moment, as if uncertain what to do after learning of such a momentous event. His eyes went back to Vanessa, “Um, back to the favor I’d like?”

Vanessa stood up, thinking that he wanted help with setting up the purification of his peptide. “Your peptide is tagged, right?”

“Oh,” Zage said glancing back toward the lab bench where he usually worked, “I do need help making sure I set the purification up correctly, but first I wanted to talk to you about something different.”

Vanessa sat back down, “What’s up?”

“I’m thinking ahead to when I have my peptide. I’ll need to be able to test it to see if it does what I think it will.”

Vanessa nodded, wondering what kind of testing he might have in mind.

“So I’ve ordered an immortal cell line. I wanted to have some cells that will replicate forever so I wouldn’t have to keep harvesting new ones. I figure I can test my peptide against them to see if it’ll increase their expression of Trim28.”

“Okaaay,” Vanessa said, once again surprised at the sophistication of the kid’s thought processes. Though I don’t know why I feel surprised anymore. “Are you wanting me to show you how to take care of the cells?”

“Oh, yeah, that would be good. I’ve read a lot about it, but have no hands-on experience so it’d sure be helpful to have you make sure I’m not messing it up.”

Vanessa suppressed a snort, “But that’s not what you really wanted help with, right?”

“No, it’s the next step that I don’t think I can do by myself. Assuming the tissue culture step works, I’d like to be able to order some obese rats and see whether the peptide will make them express more Trim28 and… hopefully lose a little weight,” he finished a little wistfully.

“Ah,” Vanessa said, understanding. “And you can’t apply for an animal care and use protocol, since you’re not officially a student here at the University.”

“Right. Would you be able to help me?”

“Those things are a huge pain to fill out. Will your parents pay me for my time doing that?” As soon as she said it, Vanessa felt guilty. After all, they paid for her for lots of hours where she did nothing but work on her own projects while Zage did his thing on the other side of the lab. She shouldn’t begrudge him a few hours working on filling in one of the protocols.

“Oh,” Zage said. “They’re available online and I’ve already filled one out. I just can’t submit it in my name, so I was hoping you wouldn’t mind submitting it under yours.”

Vanessa mentally rolled her eyes. Of course you have, she thought.

Before she said anything though Zage continued, “I don’t think my parents would mind paying you for your time looking it over though. I’m sure you wouldn’t want it submitted in your name if it still had some stupid mistakes in it. I’ll check, if you’d be willing?”

Vanessa waved dismissively, “They don’t need to pay me. They already pay me for plenty of time when I’m not really doing anything to help you. But I do need to get it approved by Dr. Turner. I can’t do it all by myself since I’m just a grad student.”

“Oh,” Zage looked a little apprehensive. “That sounds like… a problem.”

Vanessa shrugged, “It shouldn’t be.”

“Really?” Zage said, a little wide-eyed, “You think he’d be okay with it?”

“As long as he thinks the science is reasonable and you have funding for it.”

“My parents said they’d put some more money in my research fund. Can you check and see if they did? I might have to remind them.”

Vanessa spoke to her AI and looked up at her HUD. Her eyes widened a little bit. Zage’s account had a new $20,000 deposit in it! “Um, yeah they put more money in,” she said neutrally.

“So, would you ask Dr. Turner? I think he’s kind of scary.”

Now Vanessa did snort, “I’ll read your protocol and if I think it’s okay, I’ll ask him, but I’ll bet that he’ll want to talk to you. Don’t worry about it though; he’s a big teddy bear.”

Finally, Vanessa thought as she finished reading and editing Zage’s protocol, something the kid hasn’t done perfectly. Although, to be honest, it’s probably better than the first one I filled out. He’d answered the questions in the online form in what seemed like a very reasonable fashion, unless you knew about some of the obscure hoops you had to jump through for these protocols. She hadn’t needed to correct anything about the science in his protocol, only things related to animal care.

She thought about just forwarding it to Dr. Turner, but then decided she’d better talk to him first. Getting up, she went over to knock on his door frame.

Turner looked up and, seeing Vanessa, said, “Come on in. Did you see that the kid’s dad won the Nobel Prize today?”

“Um, yeah. Pretty cool.”

Turner grinned and shrugged, “Guess the kid had to have someone to inherit those smarts from. What’s up?”

Vanessa shrugged, “Well, it’s about the kid’s research plans…”

***

At dinner that evening Zage said, “Dad?”

Shan turned to look at his son and lifted his chin interrogatively.

With the serious air of someone asking a life or death question, Zage said, “Why didn’t you tell me you won the Nobel Prize?”

Shan leaned back in his seat and gave his son a serious look, “Well, do you know what a braggart is?”

Zage blinked in surprise, “I’m… not sure. I think it’s someone who tells you how great they are, right?”

Shan nodded, keeping a serious look on his face. “Has anyone ever bragged to you?”

“Um…” Zage paused to search his memories, “Yeah, Jimmy told us how good he was at soccer all the time.”

“And how did that make you feel about Jimmy?”

“Um… I didn’t like him very much, but neither did anyone else.”

Shan leaned forward, an intent look on his face, “And, did you ever find out that someone was really, really good at something… something they hadn’t told you about? You found out about it from someone else?”

Zage nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“I’ll bet you were bunch more impressed with the person who hadn’t told you than you were with Jimmy, someone who told you all the time, right?”

Zage nodded again.

Shan winked at him, “So, I’m hoping my son will think I’m much cooler, because I didn’t brag to him the day I won the Nobel Prize.” He grinned at Zage, “And, I’m also hoping you’ll take a lesson from that.”

Zage got up out of his chair and walked around to throw his small arms around his dad. In a choked up voice he said, “I’m really proud of you Dad, and I’d like to think I’d be just as proud if you’d told me this morning.” He leaned back and gave his dad a little frown, “And, I wouldn’t have been so embarrassed when Vanessa told me and I didn’t know!”

“Oops, sorry,” Shan said with a grin, ruffling his hair.

“Can I go to Stockholm with you? I’d really like to meet Dr. Donsaii now and it seems like that’d probably happen at the ceremonies.”

“Um,” Shan said glancing at Ell, “your mom and I’ll have to talk it over.”

“Pleeease!” Zage said, unusually sounding like an ordinary five-year-old begging for a treat of some kind.

Zage’s mother shrugged and said, “It’ll probably be okay. I’m not going to be able to go to Sweden because of a huge commitment I have for D5R. Amy can go with you guys and she can try to keep Zage out of trouble.”

Zage excitedly clapped his hands together, then returned to his chair to finish his dinner. A moment later, he paused and looked at his mom. “Really Mom? You can’t get somebody to cover for you on this so you can go to the Nobel ceremony for your own husband?!”

Ell winced. After a pause she said, “The only two people who can do this thing in December are myself or Dr. Donsaii. She has to go to the ceremony.”

***

Ell rolled over next to Shan, “I talked to Dr. Wheat today…”

“The exobiologist? What did he think about Zage’s idea?”

Ell chewed her lip, “He thought it was crazy. However, he thought it was better than any of the other ideas he’s heard… or thought of himself.”

***

Shan sat down at the breakfast table across from Ell. She was having cereal this morning like he was. He lifted his spoon at her, “Well, it’s kind of a letdown, going back to eating my cereal in the morning instead of going out for breakfast to celebrate.”

Ell grinned at him, “You can’t win a Nobel Prize every day, you know?”

“I don’t know why not, I could go for eating…”

Shan had paused when his AI spoke in his ear, “You have a call from Jacob Knudsen in Stockholm.”

A spike of disappointment shot through him. He thought, They made a mistake when they made the announcement yesterday! Aloud, he said, “I’ll take it… Hello, this is Shannon Kinrais.”

The man said, “Hello, this is Jacob Knudsen. Is this the Dr. Kinrais who published on the optimization of carbon allotrope formation?”

Stunned by the implication of the question, Shan found it difficult to speak. After a moment he said, “Um, yes sir.”

“Then I have the honor of informing you that the committee has selected you and your co-authors to receive the Nobel Prize in chemistry.”

“Um…” Shan paused for a moment, then, thinking that he was crazy to look a gift horse in the mouth, said, “Are you aware that I and Dr. Donsaii got the same call from the physics committee yesterday?”

“Yes, the committees became aware that they’d nominated the same people for the two awards a few days ago. However, they had arrived at their decisions completely independently and they decided there was no justification not to proceed.” Knudsen cleared his throat, “I assume you don’t object to receiving both awards?”

“No! No we’re greatly honored. I mean I’m very honored… And I’m sure that my co-authors will be as well.”

“I’m sure, having gotten a similar call yesterday, you’re aware that formal notification will arrive both electronically and by standard mail in the next few days?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then, I’ll let you go and I’ll make my calls to Dr. Donsaii and Dr. Pace.”

Once Knudsen had signed off, Shan turned wide eyed to stare at Ell.

She lifted an eyebrow, “We goin’ out to breakfast again?”

Shan laughed, “Hell yes we are. Think we ought to take the munchkin with us this time?”

Zage came into the kitchen at that moment, “Where are you taking me?”

“Wanna go out to breakfast?”

***

Emma was guiding Virgwald when Geo entered what appeared to be a marketplace. A couple of other Virgies flew in and landed just in front of him. A large group of their living hexagonal structures had been merged together, rather than walled off separately with space between them. There were still vine walls supporting the vegetation of the roof, but they were incomplete so that you could easily walk from one hexagon to another. Virgies seemed to be set up somewhat randomly throughout the structure and all of them had various materials arrayed in front of them. Items that Emma thought might be for sale or trade.

At first, Emma thought everything she saw looked like it had been grown from some member of the plant kingdom. The majority of the sellers actually seemed to be selling plants themselves, some as seeds, some as seedlings, and some as moderate sized plants in substantial pots.

There were, however, some large piles of leaves, some woody stems, and some piles of large nodular things that reminded Emma of the nodules that grew on the inside of Geo’s hex. Musing to herself, Emma said, “I wonder where this stuff came from? Doesn’t look like the same kind of plant that the hexagons are made of…”

Allan, apparently thinking she was asking him, responded, “Leaves and nodules like those were in the field Virgwald flew over right before he first landed. Perhaps fields like that are some kind of farm.”

Emma, having watched that video, said, “That didn’t look like a farm!”

“You are correct in that it didn’t look like the typical monoculture farm field such as would be grown here on earth. However, such monocultures are usually chosen for their advantages in planting and harvesting, especially by machine. The fact that crops have to be rotated in such fields suggests that there may be some advantages to growing multiple different crops in the same field if you are not using machine harvesting.”

“And,” Emma said musingly, “if you have a biological method to keep one crop from choking another out.”

Geo and Virgwald continued wandering through the market. After a while they came to a vendor who was displaying something that looked like leather. At first, Emma assumed that it must also be a vegetable product of some kind. Something that just looked like leather. Then she noticed that the vendor had large folds of excess skin draping off both sides of him. Skin that looked very much like the leather laid out for sale! Could it actually be growing its own skin and cutting it off for sale?! Emma reached out with Virgwald’s hand toward the folds of skin hanging from the vendor’s side.

The vendor, who had appeared to be quite startled by Virgwald’s appearance at first, did not look at all discomfited by Virgwald’s interest in his voluminous skin. It made some clatters that Allan translated as, “Do you want this covering?”

“How sure are you of that translation?” she asked Allan.

“‘Covering,’ might actually be ‘skin,’” Allan responded.

“Can you ask what I might give in payment?”

Allan made a clatter, then said to Emma, “I asked what Virgwald might ‘trade,’ I don’t have a word for ‘payment.’”

The alien made a clatter in reply, then reached out gingerly with one hand. Allan said, “He said that he wanted to do something to Virgwald, but exactly what he wants to do, is not clear.”

Emma watched as the alien’s hand approached closer and closer to Virgwald. She glanced at Geo who appeared to be watching curiously. As the alien’s four fingered hand approached, it suddenly developed a fifth digit. The digit seemed to protrude from a fold of skin near where the wrist would have been. It looked damp. For a moment, it hovered near Virgwald’s arm, then it touched the arm, sweeping over it. Allan said, “Geo touched Virgwald with a digit like that when Virgwald and Geo first encountered one another. It didn’t seem to do any damage.”

“Okay,” Emma said, holding still to allow the alien to lick Virgwald with its tongue-like digit as much as it wanted.

The alien made a clatter. Geo clattered in response.

When Allan didn’t produce a translation, Emma said, “What are they saying?”

Allan said, “It’s not clear. The shopkeeper doesn’t seem to be satisfied with whatever it’s getting out of touching Virgwald. I believe he’s saying that there’s little or none of whatever he was looking for present on Virgwald’s arm.”

What the hell could it be looking for? Emma wondered. Then, remembering what Ell had said about Zage’s theory that they modified their own DNA, she wondered, “Could it be looking for a sample of Virgwald’s DNA? If Zage is right, could DNA be an important trade good for them.” To Allan, she said, “Ask it if it’s looking for DNA?”

Allan said, “I don’t have a translation vocabulary for ‘DNA.’”

“Um…,” Emma said, thinking. Then, “Use your laser to draw a diagram of the DNA molecule.”

Immediately, a diagram of DNA appeared in red on the smooth surface of one of the vendor’s sheets of leather. Emma pointed to it with Virgwald’s hand and said, “Ask them if this is what they’re looking for?”

Both Geo and the leather seller stared at the red diagram. They looked surprised and interested, but it didn’t look like comprehension was dawning on them. Emma thought to herself, Well, without technology, I suppose that it would be a little much to expect them to understand the molecular structure of DNA, even if they have organs and instincts for it. Like being surprised that a dog doesn’t know the structure of the molecules present in a smell. Then she had another thought, “Allan, try some other diagrams for DNA. Simpler and more complex. Ones that show not just the helical ladder, but the individual molecules. Even the individual atoms with their electron clouds. You could even try some electron microscopic images of actual DNA molecules rather than diagrams.”

The laser image of the DNA diagram disappeared, followed by an even simpler drawing, then more and more complex illustrations, then actual photographs of the molecules. The images stayed up for a few seconds each. After a little while, they started to cycle through again. Emma watched the two aliens tilting their eye-stalks from side to side as they looked at the images, reminding her of how people tilted their heads to look at odd images. A great deal of clattering ensued and Emma would have sworn that Geo and the shopkeeper appeared to be getting more and more excited. Allan said, “They say that ‘yes, what Virgwald is showing them in the diagram is in fact what they want.’”

“Wow!” Emma said, feeling stunned. Even though she’d been the one to tell Allan to show the Virgies the diagrams and the images, she hadn’t seriously believed that they might recognize the images. How could they have any idea what DNA looks like?! To the best of our knowledge, they don’t even have magnifying glasses or light microscopes, much less anything capable of showing them the structure of DNA! Could they really have degenerated from an ancient technological civilization? To Allan she said, “I don’t suppose Virgwald actually has any DNA we could give them, does he?”

“No,” Allan responded, “Virgwald was extensively washed and sterilized before being sent out. My research shows that the methods used to clean him should have washed away much of the DNA and the chlorine dioxide and heat sterilization should have fragmented and denatured most of the rest. I suspect, that if they are indeed after DNA, their dissatisfaction may stem from the relatively small amounts of DNA that they are able to retrieve from Virgwald’s surface.”

Stunned, Geo stood staring at her friend Virgwald.

After days together, she had decided that Virgwald didn’t seem to pose a threat. In fact, Virgwald’s activities were completely bizarre. Nothing Virgwald had done so far seemed to be aimed toward garnering a sampling of DNA. As best Geo could tell, Virgwald hadn’t changed herself one bit since arriving, which suggested that either Virgwald thought she was perfect as she was, or that she couldn’t really change herself because of her hard metallic exoskeleton.

If that hard outer shell and Virgwald’s massive and powerful limbs were intended to make her a fighter, Geo couldn’t understand why Virgwald hadn’t asked about any fights or wars or the histories of such conflicts. Why would Virgwald have traveled here from somewhere else if not to collect DNA, or to battle for space?

Because of Virgwald’s apparent disinterest in DNA, Geo had begun to entertain the possibility that Virgwald had come from some place so far away that the people there didn’t actually know how to modify their DNA. After all, the legends of the past talked about people who couldn’t modify their DNA. Such people had eventually been wiped out by the Virgies who could change themselves. “Wiped out” was perhaps a strong word because the DNA of those ancient peoples had been incorporated into the Virgies’ own DNA—just like the other animals had been.

But, perhaps there were remote locations on the world where those who couldn’t control their DNA still existed?

As the days had passed, Geo had slowly become wedded to the thought that Virgwald was a throwback to those ancient beings who had no DNA control.

But now…

When the leather seller had tried to harvest a sample of DNA from Virgwald, but been frustrated by the meager samples available—just like Geo had been—Virgwald had used her odd language skills to ask if they were looking for something that Virgwald apparently didn’t have a word for. However, Virgwald had then caused a red picture to appear on a piece of leather. At first, neither Geo nor the leather seller had understood the picture, but then Virgwald started changing the picture, each time showing the same twisting spiral but different in the details. The leather seller was the one to recognize that one picture showed the same four icons in various patterns. The icons came in pairs across the two sides of the spiral. The merchant had said hesitantly, “Is that a picture of DNA?!”

Geo’s legs had become weak, not at the thought that Virgwald actually did understand DNA, but because, for the first time in her life, Geo might be seeing a picture of the substance that ruled everyone’s existence.

It was a life-changing experience…

Emma could hear the two Virgies clattering at one another. More and more Virgies came to crowd around them and the clattering swelled, gradually rising to a crescendo. Geo made some violent movements and Emma heard loud percussive clatters come from its direction. Silence fell over the assembled Virgies.

Geo turned to Virgwald, then lifted a sheet of leather and clattered more quietly.

Allan said, “I believe that he wants to see the picture of DNA again.”

“Go ahead and project it.”

As soon as the diagram appeared on the leather sheet Geo held, the clattering Virgie language exploded around them again. The sound disappeared upon a short sharp blast from Geo, but more and more Virgies crowded around to stare at the image.

Emma said, “Can you burn the image into the leather?”

“Checking,” Allan said. A brilliant red spot appeared at the upper left corner of the piece of leather. A tiny bit of smoke wafted away from the spot. When the laser spot disappeared a black mark remained. “I can,” Allan said.

“Go ahead and do it.”

The entire DNA pattern suddenly coruscated into brilliance, then the light shut off. Another puff of smoke floated upward, leaving the image of the DNA molecule burned into the leather. To Emma, the clatters that interrupted this time sounded almost like moans. There was a thump, and when she turned she saw that one of the aliens had fallen over. It looked unconscious. The rest of the crowd of aliens ignored the one who’d apparently passed out and continued staring at the image of the molecule of life as if it was the most amazing thing they had seen in their entire lives.

Chapter Seven

“I like it,” Jamieson said, looking around the basement. It had a crappy little old house on top of it, but it was on a huge lot, apparently all that was left of an old farm. It was for rent by the month and, though money wasn’t really an object, it was cheap. The house was furnished, though the furniture was dilapidated. Apparently someone had lived in the basement at some point, because part of the basement had been partitioned off into a small separate bedroom. The other half of the basement still had a bunch of junk in it. He turned to the realtor, “What’s all this crap?”

She looked uncomfortable, “The lady that owned it died and her son’s the one renting it out. That’s why it’s furnished.” She waved at all the junk, “This stuff belonged to her.”

“Is he going to move it out?”

“Um, he doesn’t want to.”

Jamieson frowned, “But a lot of the stuff… it can’t be worth keeping!”

She shrugged, “Sentimental value?”

Jamieson suddenly realized it didn’t matter whether the basement was serving as the guy’s storage unit or not. The windowless basement bedroom was really all he cared about. It wouldn’t matter how much noise Donsaii and her kid made, in this basement, in the middle of this huge lot, no one would ever hear it.

Besides, the place had a little barn where they could park several cars. There was a nice network of small country roads providing a variety of routes they could take from the snatch location to this place. That same network could be used to transfer their captives to a handoff site once he’d negotiated the final payment with Wang.

Really, it was perfect. He’d just have to ignore his obsessive-compulsive desire to straighten up the basement.

He turned to Roger, “You okay with this place?” The subtext of the hidden message passing in front of the realtor was, Do you see a problem with keeping our captives here for a while?

Roger curled his lip as he looked around the messy basement. He shrugged, “We’ll hardly ever be down here I guess. And the price is okay.”

Roger certainly didn’t care about the price, so Jamieson assumed he was saying that everything but the pile of crap in the basement looked fine. Jamieson turned to the realtor, “We’ll take it…”

***

Since a few days earlier, when Emma had had Virgwald burn images of the DNA molecule onto leather sheets for the Virgies, Virgwald appeared to have become somewhat of a celebrity. Initially, the Virgies had turned to look at him when he and Geo went by, appearing curious. Some even dropping out of flight to land beside them. Not curious like you would expect humans to react to an alien in their midst. More like you would expect humans to react to someone you thought was human but very unusual in appearance.

Maybe like someone who’d painted their skin blue or green or was wearing a costume. Ell thought that was because the Virgies were all so different from one another that someone with a magnesium skin, built shorter and thicker than everyone else, just wasn’t all that bizarre to them.

However, the story of Virgwald creating images of DNA seemed to have spread far and wide through the Virgies’ community. Virgies everywhere now seemed to know who Virgwald was. When he appeared, they immediately turned toward him. Many of the Virgies they encountered wanted to see demonstrations of his ability to generate images of DNA. Some showed up with scraps of leather, hoping to have an image of DNA burned onto the leather for them.

When they left Geo’s hexagon that morning, four Virgies were waiting immediately outside. Ell got the distinct impression that Geo was not pleased to see them. She also had the feeling that they were leaders of some sort in the Virgies’ community. When they saw Virgwald they immediately approached and one of them began clattering in the Virgies’ language. Allan was getting pretty good at translation, but it still took several repeats and questions before it became obvious that they wanted Virgwald to go somewhere with them. Though Ell could tell Geo felt like they were hijacking Geo’s plans, Ell decided to go along. She felt like it was about time to view the Virgie community from a different perspective than Geo’s.

As soon as Ell, speaking as Virgwald, agreed to go with them, the four Virgies lifted into the air. They had wings like all the other Virgies Ell had seen so far, excepting the swimmers. Some bigger, some smaller, but as one would expect on a world with such low gravity and moderately dense air, it only made sense to fly most places. Up until that point, Virgwald had walked everywhere. Geo had apparently assumed that, because Virgwald had no wings, he couldn’t fly. For a moment, Ell wondered whether there was any reason to keep Virgwald’s ability to fly a secret, then she decided that she really didn’t want to walk the entire distance to wherever they were going. She had Allan lift Virgwald with his air jets and follow the four Virgies.

After a moment, a flustered appearing Geo appeared in the air beside Virgwald. He clattered, and Allan translated, “How do you fly without wings?!”

“I forcefully push air downward from under my arms and the bottoms of my feet. That lifts me into the air.” It took several re-translations before Geo seemed to get the idea, but even then, he seemed to have difficulty believing it.

They flew for a while above the thousands of hexagons that made up Geo’s city, ascending toward one of the high hills above the bay. The hexagons in this region appeared to be slightly taller but of the same horizontal dimensions as Virgie hexagons everywhere else. However, Ell could see that large clusters of them didn’t have space between them for pedestrians. They looked like they were joined together like the ones had been at the market.

When they landed, Virgwald was conducted inside where large swathes of the hexagons did prove to be merged.

“So,” Ell said, focusing intently on Roger and Emma, “they took me in to see this Virgie that seemed to be kind of a big boss. It wasn’t that he was bigger, or looked stronger, or seemed a whole lot smarter. He seemed to have some kind of charisma, though how I could recognize charisma across alien species barriers is a mystery to me. You see him in this image, reddish-brown, two legs, four arms, two big eyes on stalks. He’s really not much different from Geo, when you consider how different they all are from one another.”

Emma attracted Ell’s attention with a wave of a finger. “You’re calling that Virgie a ‘he.’ Do you know it’s a male, or are you just falling into that old sexist pattern of calling everything that’s in doubt a male?”

Roger snorted, “Here we go again, just like the Teecees.”

Ell laughed, “Guilty as charged. I have no idea what sex it is, or even if they have sexes.”

Emma rolled her eyes, “You’re a woman! You shouldn’t fall in that trap!”

“Okay,” Ell said, “she’s not really all that different from Geo.”

Emma gave her a grin and a nod, “You go girl.”

Ell turned back to the screen where Allan had put up another image. She waved at another Virgie on the screen. “The interesting one though, is this old girl here.” Ell winked at Emma, “I also don’t know that she’s actually old, but watching her move I get the impression that she is.” Ell frowned, “I don’t think the old black-striped one is a leader, more of a trusted advisor. Maybe something we would think of as a scientist. Two legs, six arms! Two of the arms are heavy lifters, two of them are daintier like Geo’s, but the two most central ones are positively delicate, as if she uses them for really fine work. Notice, that like Geo she has a large central eye as well as two on stalks, but her middle eye is really big.”

Roger said, “Do you think the big eye works something like a magnifying glass to allow Striper to look at small objects?”

Ell shrugged, “Here on earth, big eyes are usually a sign that the animal evolved for low light environments. The Virgies don’t seem to be nocturnal, though I suppose it’s possible that Striper has a night job. I think, however, that it’s more likely that Geo and Striper have a really large lens in their middle eye to provide more magnification. I’m thinking that the retina behind that big eye might not be all that much larger.”

Roger said, “Every time I think that we could teach them how to do something, for instance make a magnifying glass, I come up against the problem that they don’t even have the basis for making such simple technology. No glass in this case.”

Ell said thoughtfully, “You know, they’re subjected to really high background radiation. I suspect they must have some way to protect themselves or at least to protect their DNA from radiation damage. DNA seems to be hugely important to them after all. If you guys can think of some simple device we can teach them to make, maybe we could make a kind of ‘technology trade’ where we teach them how to build something from our industrial age and they teach us how to protect our DNA?”

Roger and Emma both tilted their heads and frowned. Emma said, “Since they apparently use no technology, it seems like it ought to be incredibly easy to teach them to make some kind of a device that they would find useful.” She barked a little laugh, “But when they aren’t even using stone implements…” Emma shook her head helplessly, “Where do we start?” She shrugged, “I’ll keep thinking about it.”

Ell said, “I’ve been having the same issues.” She waved back at the screen, “Rather than make you listen to all the struggles we went through trying to translate what Red, which is what I’m calling the reddish-brown leader, and Striper said, I’ll just tell you what Allan and I finally worked out.” The video fast forwarded through a lot of hand waving communication. Ell said, “In that section Striper was asking us about DNA. Well, not asking us so much about DNA, as how we knew what it looked like. They have no microscopy at all, much less electron microscopy that might show them something as small as DNA. However, it became apparent that, even though they’ve never seen it, almost every Virgie immediately recognizes our images because they are so familiar with the molecule and what it does. They know that there are four different nucleotides, arranged in pairs across the helix and that groups of them code for the amino acids that make up proteins. Striper, at least, was able to list in order the nucleotides that code for chlorophyll!”

“From memory?!” Emma exploded; then she thumped her own forehead, “Of course from memory! They don’t have an AI to remember it for them!”

“Yeah,” Ell said with a little laugh, “Once we’d agreed on what the four nucleotides were, Striper plucked a leaf, crushed it, pointed at the green smear, and started listing nucleotides. I had no idea what he… I mean she was doing, but when she’d gotten a little way into it Allan told me what it was… I should tell you, though, Striper did pull out a little book of what appeared to be thin leather pages with marks on them. There were four different symbols, arranged in clusters of three which fits with DNA. I suspect he hasn’t memorized the DNA for everything. He’s written it down for some things.”

Roger frowned, “What were the marks made with?”

Ell laughed, “Hoping for some technology? Unfortunately, they looked like they were punctures made with a thorn or something. Maybe with a little bit of pigment rubbed into them.”

Emma had been staring off into the distance. Now she turned toward them and said, “Maybe we don’t have to show them how to build a device. Maybe we can just explain how a device works and let them figure out how to make it themselves…”

Ell frowned, “I’m not sure I follow what you’re saying?”

“Maybe we can just show Striper a diagram of a microscope and he can figure out how to make lenses and arrange them properly. Rather than making glass lenses mounted in a hard tube, like we would, he might prefer to manipulate DNA to have his body build a magnifying lens… Or even a special eyeball with two lenses, one in front of the other.”

Ell stared at Emma for a moment, “That… may be a great idea…”

***

Emma sat down next to Ell, “Did you try showing Striper a diagram of a microscope yet?”

Ell gave a little shudder, “Yes. I tried to make what a lens is clear by using a diagram of an eyeball. I got Manny to draw an eyeball mounted in an eye-stalk so that it would be easier for Striper to understand that we were talking about an eye. Then I showed her a diagram of a human eyeball cut in section and pointed out the lens. I used one of those diagrams that has little lines showing the light coming into the lens, then getting focused on the retina.”

Emma nodded, then looking curious, she asked, “Did it look like Striper’d ever seen the inside of an eyeball? I’ve been wondering if they ever do any dissections.”

Ell gave another little shudder, “You’ll probably find this a little difficult to believe, so I’m just going to have Allan show you a video clip.” She spoke briefly to Allan and Striper appeared on the big screen to their right.

In the video image, Striper was studying a laser image of eye anatomy that was being displayed on a sheet of leather. Though Emma couldn’t imagine how she got the impression, she felt strongly that Striper was fascinated and curious. Then Striper’s two eye-stalks turned and looked at one another, a motion which was quite amusing to watch. Next, Striper actually reached up and grasped his eye-stalks with his hands, bending them a little bit so that the left one could inspect the right one more easily.

Then the video went from amusing to stomach turning. Striper extended some sharp appearing claws from one of her medium-sized hands and used them to shear through her right eye-stalk just below the eyeball!

Horrified, Emma jerked back from the screen in reaction.

However, Striper showed no evidence of pain or dismay. The stump of the eye-stalk oozed a bit of blood, but that quickly stopped as if Striper had vascular control and could spasm off the vessels.

By this point, Striper was holding her amputated eye in front of her extra-large central eye and inspecting it closely. Again using the apparently razor-sharp claws on the medium-sized hand, Striper sliced through the eyeball longitudinally to expose a cut surface similar to the one in the diagram Virgwald had been displaying with his laser. Striper flipped the two halves over so she could look at both of them. Feeling a little green still, Emma nonetheless noted that the section of the alien eyeball looked surprisingly similar to the diagram of the human one. Optics working the way they did, she supposed that wasn’t too surprising. Emma turned to Ell, a revolted look still showing on her face, “Geez! That was disgusting!”

Ell shook her head sympathetically, “Allan and I managed to ask Striper what she would do without an eye and she seemed surprised. Apparently, she can grow another one in just a few days.” Ell waved at the screen, “Keep watching, it’s not over.”

Striper was now using her third pair of hands, the ones that were very dainty, to inspect the amputated eye. After a moment, Striper plucked the lens out of the eye. The eye hadn’t been transected perfectly in half, so Striper took the lens out of the larger section. She held it up and tried to peer through it, but it appeared to be filled with gelatinous material that was leaking out through the cut edge of the lens. Nonetheless, Striper appeared to be quite excited about whatever she did manage to see through the lens, clattering loudly at the other Virgies who’d gathered there for the session with Virgwald. A few minutes later, she clattered excitedly to one of the other Virgies and that one promptly reached up and snipped one of its own eyes off its eye-stalk! Emma wasn’t quite as horrified this time, but couldn’t keep from wondering if Striper had actually ordered a subordinate to cut off its own eye, or whether a colleague had volunteered to do so.

Moments later, they were plucking the intact lens out of this additional eye and excitedly passing it around so everyone could peer through it. In only a few minutes they had discovered that tugging or squeezing at the edges of it could change the magnification and focal length.

Emma looked up at Ell, “You just did that to watch me squirm, didn’t you?”

Ell said primly, “I only wanted you to be able to experience the depths of the Virgies’ scientific curiosity and the sacrifices they’re willing to make.” She ignored Emma’s snort and continued, “No matter how queasy that made you, Allan and I spent some time translating with them and it became evident that they thought we’d taught them something wonderful. Allan showed them diagrams of dual lens microscopes with objectives and eyepieces and it’s my impression that they’re going to try to grow something like that. It might be that they think they can grow lenses and mount them in some kind of tube, but I think they’re actually planning to grow them within their own bodies. We also tried to explain telescopes to them, but it wasn’t clear to me that they were able to understand that concept.”

Uncomfortably, Emma said, “Do they have any animals? I mean, I’ve seen all kinds of different Virgies… but everything I’ve seen looks intelligent except the plants. Well, and some of the little things like minnows and bugs.”

“Yeah, same here,” Ell said, “I get the impression from some things they’ve said—though my comprehension might have been mangled in translation—that they don’t see any reason to keep unintelligent large animals around.”

“They’ve wiped them out?!”

Ell pursed her lips, “I think it’s more like they incorporated them into their own genomes. I think the Virgies don’t think of species as important, they think of DNA as important. They try to preserve genes, not complete animals. So they took the genes from animals that they admired or thought were important and incorporated them into the Virgies’ own genomes. The Virgies represent not just their own species, but all of the significant species that have lived on their world. It also seems pretty certain that they’ve incorporated some animal genes into those nodules that form on the plants in the hexagons they live in. The nodules have edible animal type proteins in them.” Ell paused for a moment, then continued in a somewhat hushed voice, “I got the impression that they’d be horrified to find out that we eat animals. Maybe more horrified than you would be to find out they’d wiped out a species.”

“Oh,” Emma said, taken aback.

“So, what you were thinking, I suspect, was that they should grow their microscope in what would be their equivalent of a pig or something, right?”

Emma nodded, “But you’re going to tell me they’d probably think that was sick, whereas they feel the ethical thing to do is to grow it in their own body, yes?”

It was Ell’s turn to nod.

Emma said, “Are you still going to ask them about protecting against radiation damage to DNA?”

“Already did. As we suspected, it looks like they don’t try to protect the DNA from damage. In fact, they seem to be surprised that radiation damage would be a problem. Striper gave me a long speech that I believe was supposed to explain to me how DNA gets repaired after radiation does damage to it. Apparently the same mechanism repairs it after damage from other mutagens as well. I’ve made an appointment to talk to Dr. Hodges, a DNA guru at Duke University. Hopefully he’ll be able to confirm whether that’s what Striper was actually telling me or not.”

“Are you thinking that we’ll be able to safely import this mechanism for DNA correction from the Virgies?” Emma said, sounding a little apprehensive.

“I surely don’t know. That’s why I’m talking to an expert. It worries me a lot, just like it’s worrying you. I absolutely don’t want to import any actual DNA from there, but maybe it’ll be possible to understand their correction system and build its components from the underlying DNA code?” Ell shrugged, “I don’t know.”

***

“Yes!” Zage shouted.

Vanessa looked over his way curiously, then got up to go see what the excitement was all about. “What’s up?”

Zage looked around excitedly, “My HeLa cells bumped up their expression of Trim28 in response to the peptide!”

“Really?” Vanessa said doubtfully, nonetheless feeling sick astonishment once again. It had been surprising enough when the kid had designed a peptide, sequenced DNA for it, inserted the plasmid into E. coli, and then been able to purify the peptide he’d set out to make. Though, Vanessa told herself that by now she shouldn’t have been surprised. The kid had proven his technical expertise over and over. But, to have the peptide he’d designed actually do what he’d hoped… Holy crap! She hadn’t actually tried to follow his reasoning regarding how the peptide might be able to “flip the switch” on Trim28 expression, because she’d been so sure it couldn’t work. It was just a stab in the dark after all, wasn’t it?

If it were possible for a small peptide to do that, surely some big-name investigator in a major lab somewhere would have seen the possibility and carried out the experiment already. Wouldn’t they?

She suppressed the sigh that had nearly escaped and said, “Show me your data?”

Dr. Turner came through after Zage had left. Vanessa said, “Um, Dr. Turner?”

He stopped and looked her way questioningly.

“Zage’s peptide… Um, his cell line is expressing high levels of Trim28.”

Turner gave a small, frustrated shake of his head, then disconsolately said, “I’ll be dipped in shit!” He closed his eyes and tilted his face up toward the ceiling, “Why does that infant get the Midas touch?” Turner said, either rhetorically or to God, Vanessa wasn’t sure which.

Vanessa didn’t say anything, feeling a little worried that Turner might truly be angry.

Turner sighed and turned to look at Vanessa, “I’d imagine he wants to order those obese rats?”

Vanessa nodded…

***

Clarence Hodges stormed into his office, fury writ large on his face. “Alice! Cancel all my appointments! That idiot Rendell sent in his part of the grant application two days before it’s due at NIH, and of course, it’s a complete mess. I’m going to have to spend the entire day rewriting that pile of dog shit!”

“Um,” Alice said timidly, making an abortive little wave at the woman sitting on the other side of the office, “your 9 o’clock is already here!”

Remembering that he was supposed to talk to a reporter, Hodges glanced momentarily at the slender brunette woman. She was pretty, about 30, wearing a ball cap, long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. PR was important to the University and for a moment it looked like Hodges might talk to her despite his mood, but then he turned back to Alice and barked, “No! Cancel everything. Maybe Barnes could talk to her.” He walked on into his office and slammed the door behind him.

Alice looked helplessly at their visitor who shrugged and said, “No problem. Who’s Barnes?”

“Dr. Barnes is one of the younger faculty. She also does a lot of DNA research and everybody says she’s really sharp. Um,” Alice’s eyes twitched towards Hodges office, then she continued quietly, “she’s also really nice.”

“Do you think she’d be willing to talk to me?” Ell asked, glancing up atIn his favorite topic, biology her HUD where Allan had already displayed data on Dr. Regina Barnes.

“I bet she would, would you like for me to check?”

Happy with what she’d seen, Ell nodded, “Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Alice said before mumbling to her AI. A moment later, she said, “Dr. Barnes? Um, we have a reporter who came in for an appointment to talk to Dr. Hodges. Unfortunately, Dr. Hodges has had to cancel all of his appointments because of a problem with his grant application. Would you be able to talk to her?” After a moment, Alice looked up and said, “She says she can give you 15 minutes?”

Ell nodded, “That’d be great. Thank you.”

Standing, Alice said, “Dr. Barnes, I’ll bring her right down.” She motioned to Ell and they started around the pod of offices.

Barnes was staring at a 3-D model of a protein rotating on her big screen when a knock came at the door. She didn’t really want to take time away from her project, but knew that PR was important for the University. Hodges could be quite the curmudgeon and had gotten the department some really bad press in the past, so it often fell to Reggie to smooth things over. She stood and turned, taking in the slender brunette in the jeans and T-shirt. Putting out her hand, she said, “Hi, I’m Dr. Regina Barnes, though I prefer to go by ‘Reggie.’ I’m sorry that Dr. Hodges had to cancel his appointment with you. However, I do a lot of the same kind of DNA research as Dr. Hodges. I’d be happy to answer your questions though I’m afraid I don’t have very much time.”

As the young woman turned and said thank you to Alice and Alice turned to go, Reggie considered the fact that she felt surprised by the reporter’s casual dress. Although Reggie dressed casually for the office and especially for the lab, she’d somehow expected the reporter to be dressed a little more professionally. She waved the woman into a chair and said, “How can I help?”

“Well, first I have to admit that I’m not really a reporter. I’m hoping that we can help one another.”

A wave of irritation flashed over Reggie that Alice had let this woman dupe her way into Reggie’s office. Probably has something to sell, Reggie thought, starting to smolder.

But then the woman said, “Actually, I’m Raquel Blandon. I work out at D5R and we desperately need someone with DNA expertise. We’re hoping you’ll at least provide some consulting, and if you’re interested, perhaps to do some work with extraterrestrial DNA.” Electricity shot down Reggie’s spine and she almost missed Blandon’s next sentence, “Our consulting fees are quite generous.”

Reggie sank back in her chair, stunned. Who cares about the consulting fees! She thought, She had me with the opportunity to work with ET DNA! Aloud, she said, “DNA from where? Alpha Centauri? Tau Ceti?”

Blandon shook her head, “Before we could talk about that, we’ve got to establish some confidentiality.”

Feeling like a bucket of ice had just been thrown on her, Reggie said unhappily, “Confidentiality?”

“Yes, we’d want you to refrain from publication for at least four years, essentially keeping what you’re doing a complete secret. It’s possible that we’d even ask you to keep it secret for longer than that but in that case you and the University would be very well compensated.”

Shaking her head, Reggie said, “We must have the academic freedom to publish.”

“I agree,” Blandon said, “but some things…”

“No!” Reggie interjected, “The freedom to publish is integral. If you want to control publishing you’d just as well hire yourself some drone to work in your own lab.”

Blandon pursed her lips, looking disappointed. “Could you suggest someone to us?”

Suddenly Reggie realized that the opportunity of a lifetime might be slipping through her fingers. Extraterrestrial DNA! Who knows what could be learned! She sighed, hoping she wasn’t about to compromise her own principles, “Wait, you say that we could publish after four years?”

Slowly nodding, Blandon said, “Yes, unless what we find is so dangerous that we deem it to be a substantial threat to the human race. Then, you’d be well compensated, but we’d insist that it remain a secret.”

“Oh, come on. Are you thinking that some alien virus might decimate the Earth? Viruses have evolved over millions of years to be able to attack the lifeforms here. The chances that an alien virus would, by some astonishing coincidence, be able to infect earth organisms is so remote that you’d be better off worrying about another asteroid impact!”

Blandon frowned, “Nonetheless, we have reason to believe that there may be substantial danger. Though we appreciate your ethics, if you don’t feel you can agree to the confidentiality clause, we’ll just have to look elsewhere.”

Horrified that this incredible opportunity might be slipping away, but still angry that someone’s capricious decision might keep her from publishing her findings, Reggie asked, “Who the hell decides whether it’s too dangerous?!”

“Ell Donsaii.”

“Oh…” Reggie said, taken aback. That puts a different complexion on things. “Okay, let me see the agreement.”

***

Dr. Hodges stepped into Regina Barnes’ lab, “Where the hell is Reggie?” he asked the grad student over by the centrifuge.

The student looked up apprehensively, worried about Hodges legendary temper. “Um, she had an appointment out at D5R this morning.”

Hodges blinked in surprise, thinking, “D5R?” I thought they did physics? he thought. “What the hell is she doing out there?!”

Reminding himself that Hodges wasn’t actually Barnes’ boss, no matter how much he acted like it and seemed to believe he was, the student took a little pleasure in saying, “She has a meeting with Ell Donsaii.”

“What?!” Hodges said, looking a little stunned. Then apparently deciding the student wouldn’t have any answers, he said, “Oh, never mind!”

Hodges vacated the doorway and started back down the hallway.

When Reggie Barnes arrived back in the department, Alice quietly said, “Dr. Hodges has been looking for you.”

Wincing internally, Reggie said, “Do you know what he wants?”

Alice just shook her head slowly, but the sympathetic look on her face let Reggie know that Hodges was in one of his moods. Though he wasn’t her supervisor or department chairman, he was a senior professor in the department and could cause her some trouble.

Sure enough, Reggie had barely settled into her chair when Hodges appeared, “What were you doing out at D5R?”

“Consulting,” Reggie said, keeping to the one word answer because, as usual, she didn’t like Hodges’ attitude.

“What?! They do physics! Why would they be consulting you?”

Reggie suspected that the real question wasn’t why they were consulting a DNA expert, but why, if they were consulting a DNA expert, they weren’t consulting him. Taking a little malicious delight in the answer, she said, “Extraterrestrial DNA.”

Hodges eyes widened, “From Tau Ceti or Alpha Centauri? They announced that they’d decided it was too dangerous to bring back DNA!” He didn’t say anything about how he’d unsuccessfully badgered them to bring back some DNA a few years back.

“Confidential,” Reggie said.

“What?!” Hodges said in a dangerous tone.

“It’s all confidential. Where the DNA comes from, how they’re getting it, what they want me to do with it. Everything’s confidential.” She hoped that she’d kept any evidence of the triumph she felt out of her voice.

Shaking his head slowly, Hodges said, “The Department and the University legal people aren’t going to be very happy about you taking on a confidential consulting role.”

Reggie said, “Already ran it by them. They’re very happy.”

“What? Why would they be happy? It’s taking you away from your duties and…”

“The consulting fees are enormous,” Reggie interrupted, still trying to keep the grin off her face.

“What?! How much?!”

“Also confidential.”

Querulously, Hodges said, “Why… How did they get hooked up with you?”

Hearing the “why not me” subtext, Reggie carefully controlled her face as she answered, “It was that appointment you canceled the day you had to rewrite Rendell’s contribution to your grant. You told Alice to have her talk to me because you were too busy.”

If Hodges could have slammed Reggie’s door on his way out, she thought he would have.

After Hodges was gone, Reggie settled back to reflect on her meeting with Donsaii. Reggie’d felt awestruck to meet her. Intellectually, she had a feeling that she shouldn’t feel so much reverence for someone seven years younger than she was. Emotionally however, she almost wanted to kneel or bow before the woman who’d saved her world and therefore Reggie herself. If Donsaii recognized how charged the moment of their meeting was for Reggie, she blithely ignored it. A young woman named Bridget had guided Reggie through D5R’s building, but didn’t get very far before Donsaii actually came to meet them. Wearing khakis and a polo shirt, Donsaii seemed casual yet Reggie could tell almost everyone in the big room had significant awareness focused on the young woman.

“Hello Dr. Barnes!” Donsaii had greeted her almost effusively, thanking Bridget and starting to lead Reggie back across D5R. “Thank you so much for coming out here to talk to me. I would have been happy to come to you if not for the sensitive nature of the information we’re going to discuss.”

Feeling boggled at the very possibility that Donsaii would’ve come to her rather than vice versa, Reggie said, “It’s no problem; I was happy to come. I must say that it’s hard to believe that extraterrestrial DNA could pose much of a danger, but I’m happy to listen to your viewpoint.”

“In here,” Donsaii said, opening a door and ushering Reggie into a small conference room with several very large screens on the walls. After making sure that Reggie understood and agreed to the confidentiality clauses, Donsaii had explained that they weren’t talking about Tau Ceti or Alpha Centauri. Rather, they’d reached another world, though Donsaii wouldn’t even specify which star it was orbiting much less which world. When at first Donsaii had said that the inhabitants of this world manipulated DNA, Reggie had expected to learn about a world with a highly advanced science.

When Reggie found out they were talking about a world with primitive if any technology, Reggie wanted to laugh at the very idea that they might controllably alter DNA. Then Donsaii started showing her video. Strange aliens with bizarre, and bizarrely, different body plans. Big eyes, little eyes, multiple legs, multiple arms, arms obviously designed for delicate manipulation and others for powerlifting. Beings with wings, beings with fins, and all of them looking and acting intelligent.

Reggie would have believed that she was being shown the crossroads of some interstellar civilization, except there was essentially no technology! There was no way for all these different aliens to have arrived at the same location!

Then Donsaii showed her vegetation that grew just as much as the aliens wanted and no more. Plants that produced nodules for food that almost certainly weren’t seeds. Farm fields populated with many different kinds of plants that weren’t trying to choke each other out and whose products were collected by farmers who’d grown specialized arms just for such harvesting.

Donsaii produced a translated conversation with a zebra striped alien who apparently served as the closest thing the aliens had to a scientist. In it, Donsaii asked the alien, known as “Striper” about reproduction. Although Reggie just had to wonder whether the translation could possibly be correct, Striper had apparently told them that when a Virgie wanted to reproduce, she purposefully grew an organ similar to the uterus, thus leading the D5R team to decide to designate all the Virgies as female. Then the Virgie selected the DNA for the features she wanted in her offspring and inserted it in a cell. She activated a set of genes to send the cell back to an embryonic state, implanted the resulting blastula in the uterus and grew the offspring she’d personally designed. There was no sex. No random mixing of genes. Just a child, joyously formed according to the intelligent design of the single parent.

If the child wasn’t happy with the design her parent had come up with, she just set about modifying herself! The Virgies had an organ that let them examine DNA—Reggie couldn’t help but think of it as “smelling” the DNA—that would tell them with fairly good accuracy what that DNA would actually do! When they weren’t sure, they would insert the DNA sequence in some cells in an isolated spot in their body and see what happened. If they didn’t like it, they’d dispose of the resulting cells. A big section of most Virgie markets was devoted to the trading of DNA strings that would let a Virgie modify herself in various ways.

Just as Reggie was thinking that she simply didn’t believe the Virgies could possibly modify their bodies as had been described to her, Donsaii showed her a series of pictures of Striper cutting off one of her own eyeballs in order to dissect it, then beginning to grow a new eyeball in its place!

Reggie could not imagine why they hadn’t developed technology. She wondered if they were just so focused on manipulating DNA that they found mechanical devices uninteresting or, whether they simply found it easier to manipulate their own bodies to do the various things a mechanical device might be able to do for them. If they wanted to fly a long distance, they grew bigger wings. When they’d wanted shelter, they modified the DNA of the plants so that they developed into hexagonal homes. Hexagonal homes that could tighten the weave of their walls to insulate or loosen it to let air blow through. Homes whose vegetative walls could apparently generate heat when it was cold and exude moisture for evaporative cooling when it was hot.

When Donsaii showed Reggie that Striper appeared to be growing a compound microscope just below her large central eye, Reggie decided in favor of the hypothesis that manipulating their own bodies was easier for them than building devices.

Feeling dazed by the entire presentation, and humbled by the Virgies’ ability to manipulate DNA in ways she couldn’t fathom, Reggie had finally said, “And… what is it exactly… that you want me to do?”

“Well Dr. Barnes, I’m both excited about the possibility that the Virgies may be able to teach us some wonderful things that DNA can do, and I’m worried about the fact that I believe DNA represents a kind of von Neumann machine.”

“Von Neumann machine?”

“Yes, von Neumann proposed that an advanced civilization could send out small robotic probes to other worlds that would then reproduce themselves and move on to other worlds. The idea was that they would eventually spread to every world in the galaxy and do immeasurable damage…”

“Yes, yes,” Reggie said, a little impatiently, “I’m familiar with von Neumann’s concept. But, DNA?!”

“Every world we’ve been to so far, Dr. Barnes, has been populated by DNA-based life forms. DNA is much smaller than the kind of machines von Neumann was thinking about, but it certainly seems to have spread itself throughout the galaxy and taken over world after world, reproducing itself and modifying those worlds along the way.”

“Oh…” Reggie said, stunned by the concept. “But, still, DNA is us! It’s not like it’s some foreign von Neumann machine here to destroy us.”

“Agreed, but DNA is always battling for the supremacy of its own particular nucleotide strand. I don’t want to take a chance that we might import some complex DNA system that’s capable of taking over and dominating our world. However,” Donsaii looked a little uncertain, “I believe we would like to be able to import bits of DNA that can improve our lives.”

Reggie shook her head, “How can you do one without the other?”

Donsaii said, “That’s where you come in. I have an idea, but of course it needs an expert like you to vet it.”

Reggie motioned for Donsaii to continue, thinking that Donsaii’s proposition would probably be full of holes.

“So, Donsaii said, “our first principle is that we never import actual DNA of any kind for fear that some bad DNA might be mixed in with it. In fact, so far, in all of our interstellar exploration we have been extremely careful to allow nothing to return from those other worlds for fear it might carry some DNA.”

“But… if we can’t bring any DNA back, how are we going to…?!”

Donsaii put up a halting hand, “We’ll only bring back the code for the DNA. Short stretches, capable of making single proteins. That way no other DNA can accidentally or purposefully be mixed into any specimen we bring back here. You examine the code to make sure it looks like it’s reasonable that it might make the particular protein or other molecule we want. If you’re fairly satisfied, you still only actually synthesize that strand of DNA and insert it in an appropriate cell line inside the University’s Level 4 Biosafety lab. You evaluate the protein it produces to be sure it’s non-toxic and does what it supposed to do. And of course, that it does nothing else.”

“Wait a minute! I know these… aliens can manipulate DNA, but surely they can’t tell you the nucleotide sequence?!”

“They say—and we believe—that they can. Here…” Donsaii mumbled to her AI and a video appeared on the big screen, “is Striper showing us a nucleotide sequence written out as a series of tiny dots on a sheet of leather.”

“Holy crap! It would take all day to write out the sequence of some proteins!”

Donsaii grinned, “Maybe more than a day. Some of the big ones have 27,000 amino acids, and it would require three times that many nucleotides to spell them out.” She shrugged, “But not very many of them are that big. Hopefully most of the ones we’ll be interested in will be much smaller.”

Reggie blinked, “Once you generate the amino acids for the proteins in the correct sequence, the protein has to be folded correctly. Some proteins require ‘molecular chaperones’ to fold them into their correct state. Earth chaperones might be different than the alien ones.”

Donsaii grinned at her, “Possibly. Does that mean you don’t want to work with some of the alien proteins that don’t require chaperones?”

Reggie laughed at herself, “No! No, I really, really do want to work on this project. I just find it difficult to accept as true on a gut level… even though up here,” she tapped her head, “I do believe you. I’m just following my instincts and principles by objecting to as many of the crazy things you’re saying as possible.” She smiled, “Science, you know. You should doubt everything, right?”

“No doubt,” Donsaii had said, grinning right back.

Donsaii had gone on to explain that Striper had shown them the sequence for a protein that Striper believed to be very important in correcting DNA errors induced by radiation and other mutagens. “We at D5R, especially in the ET Resources branch, would be very interested in something that would radiation protect the people who go out to explore other worlds.”

“Our cells already have multiple error correction systems in place. The chances aren’t very good that the Virgies have a better one.”

Ell shrugged, “Perhaps, but I think they do. Their world has no magnetosphere and is subject to nearly the same radiation levels present on Mars, yet Striper claims that unintentional mutations are exceedingly rare.”

“Oh…”

Chapter Eight

Jamieson looked over the men he’d hired. They were all what he thought of as “low-level.” That should be okay since they were hired mainly as drivers, specifically because they were capable of taking a car off AI control and handling it manually. Well, and because they were criminals. The kind of people who were willing to carry out a shady job, then hopefully would keep their mouths shut.

He had drivers for a trailing car and a leading car, as well as the three cars that would force Donsaii and her kid off the road. Roger and he would be in the panel van, and Roger was the only one of these morons that would ever see the hideout. The other five would pick up their AI disabled car from parking lots around the town, drive it to the takedown location, do their jobs, then get rid of the vehicle and leave the area.

Jamieson had had to buy six more vehicles for this project, which had felt wasteful even if they were old and used. However, he’d sworn he wouldn’t economize. He was going to buy the equipment he needed to do this job right.

Professionally.

He opened the case he’d brought with him and started handing out the cheap AI headbands he’d bought for the mission. “These are throwaways!” he admonished. “They’ll be our only form of communication and patched only through a PGR linker I’ve got hidden away in a secure location. Destroy them in a fire once the mission’s over, got that?”

Everyone nodded.

“Your codenames for the mission are, Bob, Carl, David, Earl, and Frank,” he said, pointing to each of them as their names came up. “I’m Arthur,” he pointed to Roger, “and this is George. Just in case you haven’t figured it out, you’re in alphabetical order for the takedown, from Bob in the lead car to Frank in the trailing car.”

“Every evening from 6 to 7, get out your disposable headband, put it on, and wait for me to give you a message regarding whether we’re a go or not. If we’re a go, you’ll need to be in place by 5 o’clock the next morning.”

Getting nods again, he continued, “Tomorrow, at 9:30 AM, we’ll have a test run. George here will be driving that old, red, Ford Focus outside.” He gestured to the parking lot where everyone could see it parked. “The target will be driving a blue Ford Focus on the day of the actual takedown so it’ll be the same size, shape, and etcetera. You’ll each be parked at the specified GPS locations I’ve sent to your AI headband.” He looked at them to make sure they comprehended.

Jamieson focused on Frank, “When George goes by in the Focus, you’ll let us all know and pull out a block or so behind him, telling us if anybody passes you or is approaching from behind. Bob, you’ll be way in front, informing us if any cars are coming from the other direction. If someone comes early enough, you’ll have us abort the mission. If they come after we’ve already started the takedown, you’ll turn into the oncoming lane and block them from getting close enough to see us. Carl, you’ll pull out just in front of the target, then slow down to delay the Focus. David and Earl, you pull out just behind the Focus, right?” They nodded their heads in acknowledgment. “When you get to the takedown area, you’ll see the panel van. David, you’ll pull up beside the Focus. Carl slows to crowd it from the front and Earl crowds it from the back, then David forces it off the road. Try to time it so it stops right next to the van.”

Jamieson looked around, getting acknowledgment from the others. “If needed, I’ll move the van forward or back so that the Focus is completely boxed in, then I’ll get out, open the door of the Focus, Taser the woman in the front and trank her. George’ll drag the woman out of the front while I deal with the kid in the back seat however necessary. Once we’ve got them in the panel van, everyone splits up and goes their different directions. Got that?”

Carl put up his hand, “Can I keep the car?”

Jamieson rolled his eyes, “Sure, if you want to go to prison!” He sighed, “Unless your head’s way up your ass, you’ll leave absolutely no record you had anything to do with this if it’s at all possible! Wear your gloves and a new clean disposable coverall every time you’re in the car so you don’t leave DNA. Facial disguises at all times during even the practice mission so no outside AI can ID you. Once the mission’s gone down, wipe anything you touched with the Clorox wipes, dump the car in a body of water and burn that disposable AI headband! Walk a long way from there, then have your own car pick you up at your new location. Get the hell out of the state.” He looked around the room, “If you can think of anything else you might do to separate yourself from this operation afterwards, do it! You’re getting paid plenty of money. Don’t go to prison trying to pull down a few more nickels!”

Jamieson didn’t actually care if any of them got caught, except for the fact they might then get him sucked into the same shit-hole. He thought about telling them how little he cared about them, but decided he shouldn’t push them even further from a “team” mindset than their own natural inclinations already placed them.

***

Zage stood in the animal care room, looking back and forth from one of his new obese rats, to another investigator’s healthy rat in the cage next to it. “Wow, these rats are really… huge!”

“Yeah,” Vanessa said. “Their weights are about forty percent higher, even though their lengths are essentially the same.”

“The animal handlers won’t mind doing the injections?”

Vanessa snorted, “I’m sure it’s not their favorite thing to do. But, they do so many injections down here that they get pretty good at it.”

“Okay,” Zage said thoughtfully. “I kind of feel like I should have to do it myself, since it’s my experiment.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not allowed since you’re not an official student, and too young besides. I’ve done injections for my own projects and it’s kind of a hassle, but not a huge problem. It’s cheaper for you to have the facility people do the injections than for your parents to pay me to do them at the rate they usually pay me.”

“I know. It just feels wrong. You were right about Dr. Turner, by the way.”

“How do you mean?”

“He wasn’t at all scary to talk to. It’s fun talking about science with him.”

“Well, he might seem a little scarier if he was in control of when you got your PhD.”

“I think it’s scary enough. He doesn’t have to let me do research in his lab, after all.”

Vanessa hid a little grin, “Yes he does. He wants to be on all those papers you’re going to write.”

“Really?”

Vanessa nodded…

***

With a start, Frank realized that the blue Focus had just gone by. Speaking through the disposable AI headband, he said, “We’re a go. I repeat, we’re a go.” He waited until the Focus had gone around the corner, then pulled out of his parking place and started after it.

When he went around the corner and looked ahead to find the Focus, he saw that someone else had pulled out. At first, his brain assumed that it must be Earl, but then he realized he wasn’t seeing Earl’s big Silverado. Instead, it was some small foreign car. Shit! He thought, That’s twice! He spoke to the AI, “Connect me to the team… Abort. I say again, abort. Another vehicle has inserted itself into our pattern.”

A few seconds later, he heard Jamieson, who Frank knew as Arthur, say, “Okay team. Relax. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Come on!” Earl said over the connection, “I can bump that little Kia right off the road!”

“Earl! Chill! This is not a problem. We’ll just do this again and again until everything works out right. No need to rush into anything. We’re in no hurry to shoot ourselves in the foot.”

Easy for you to say, Frank thought, you’re not paying us extra for all these false starts!

***

Vanessa came back into the lab from her early afternoon class and saw Zage sitting over at his usual spot. She didn’t think much of it at first, setting her backpack down and glancing at the monitor for her schedule of the day.

Something tickled her consciousness and she turned to look at Zage. He looked… slumped. Starting across the lab, she said, “Zage, you okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment; then he said despondently, “They haven’t lost any weight.”

Vanessa blinked, “Um, your rats?”

Zage nodded.

“Wait a minute! Didn’t they just get their first dose of your peptide yesterday?”

Zage nodded again.

“And you broke the randomization on your study to know which ones got the active peptide and which ones got the nonsense peptide?” She felt a little irritated because, if he’d done that, his study would no longer be blinded, a violation of scientific principles.

“No,” he said, sounding a little offended that she might think he’d done that, “but none of them have lost more than five grams.”

It took Vanessa a moment to understand what he was saying; then she started laughing.

Zage turned and glared at her, “What’s so funny?”

“That’s, what, about one percent of body weight for those rats? People randomly gain and lose one percent of their body weight all the time! Probably, mostly due to fluid shifts. You can’t be expecting to get results from this experiment in the first twenty-four hours!”

He narrowed his eyes, “If it had the kind of effect I’m expecting, some of them should have lost noticeable amounts of weight!”

Vanessa snorted, “You need to have some patience! Besides, you’ve gotten entirely too used to having everything go your way! Your DNA sequencing pulls out genes you thought might be present. You design a peptide and get a good pure sample the first time. Your peptide actually works to modify expression of Trim28! Nobody gets that lucky when they’re doing cutting edge research. You’re supposed to have been going down a bunch of blind alleys, making a lot of mistakes, and generally getting really frustrated before anything ever went right!”

“But it should have worked!”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, “And it still might, the way your luck’s been going. You need to give it a week before you decide it failed!”

Zage sighed, “I think I need to look back through those papers and check some of my assumptions…” he trailed off.

“No harm in that,” Vanessa said as she turned to head back to her side of the lab, “but don’t forget that if this experiment turns out perfectly the first time you run it, like the rest of your projects so far… I’m gonna have to smack you up the side of the head.”

She glanced back to see him staring wide-eyed at her.

She winked at him and said, “’Cause that just wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us.”

She got a little grin in response.

***

Jamieson felt his adrenaline spike, Fourth time’s the charm! Three times last week, something had interrupted them before they could make their snatch. He used to hate Mondays, but this Monday was going to be sweet!

His three cars had the blue Focus boxed in and were forcing it off the road. The practice had really helped; there was no place for the Focus to get out of the hole they’d trapped it in. It bumped off into the grass.

For a second, when it bounced over a big rut, he thought it might try to escape by turning right out of the box. But then the guys had forced it up next to the van where there was no place for it to go.

Jamieson threw open the door on the panel van, took one step and shoved his sledgehammer through the passenger-side window of the car. He fired the Taser into Donsaii, a little surprised to see her cowering, rather than coming after him like he’d expected.

Donsaii slumped, quivering, and Jamieson dropped the Taser and pulled out his trank gun. A second later a dart was quivering in Donsaii’s thigh. He reached in the window and flipped the switch to unlock the doors. He could do it without looking, having practiced it plenty of times on the team’s Focus.

Stepping to his left, he jerked open the back passenger door and leaned in on a knee. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roger/George leaning in the front door and grabbing Donsaii by the arm. Roger started hauling her out as Jamieson leaned over to grab the kid by one arm.

SON OF A BITCH!

The little shit had punched him in the nose! Hard! Jamieson’s head was ringing and his eyes were watering so he could hardly see! He reached in a pocket and pulled out the handheld Taser. His first swing at the kid missed, but the second one connected and the kid gratifyingly collapsed. Blood dripped into Jamieson’s mouth and he had to resist the temptation to smack the kid.

Unable to see worth a damn, Jamieson gave up on unbuckling the kid and pulled out his knife, cutting the straps. He hauled the flaccid kid out of the car and into the van. “You’d better drive,” he said to Roger.

Roger gave him a wide-eyed glance, then grinned, “What the hell happened to you?”

“Little bastard punched me in the nose. Get us going. I’ll tie the woman up.” Though he worried that Roger might have figured it out, he was still careful not to let anyone on the team know exactly who they were kidnapping. He worried that one of the team might turn Jamieson in, just in the hope of a reward.

Roger climbed into the front and dropped the foil curtain. The van bounced up on the road and started rolling while Jamieson started restraining Donsaii with an inordinate number of plasticuffs. Then he turned and did the same to the kid, using ordinary plastic ties since plasticuffs didn’t come small enough for a kid.

He sat back, lifting his headband to wipe at his eyes and staring at Donsaii. When he’d been tying her up he’d thought she felt kind of… soft. He’d been expecting a super athlete like her to be much more muscular, even though, as a woman, he still thought she’d be less muscular than the men he dealt with. Surely she’d be a lot more toned than this! Could I have been wrong? he worried. Maybe this isn’t Donsaii after all?

He lifted the headband to wipe his eyes some more and looked at the kid. The little bastard had already recovered from being Tased and was glaring at Jamieson. Jamieson rubbed gingerly at his nose, “You little shit. I think you broke my nose!”

The kid’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you doing this?!”

For money, Jamieson thought. He said, “I work for some people who want your mom,” he waved at Donsaii, “to share some of her secrets with the rest of the world.”

The kid blinked, looked at Donsaii, then said, “That’s not my mom.”

Jamieson’s guts cramped and he turned to look at the woman. He knee walked over to her and looked down at her face. He tugged at her hair, Not a wig! He rubbed hard at her nose, then at the rest of her face, No facial disguise prosthetics! Shit! Shit! Shit! He went back to her hair, parting it and looking for any evidence of strawberry blond roots. No, it looked like real brunette hair!

“Besides,” the kid said, “my mom doesn’t have any secrets.”

Reaching in the pocket of his coverall, Jamieson pulled out some heavy scissors and started cutting her clothes off. None of her skin looked as pale as Donsaii’s. Once she was naked, he looked in her armpits and her crotch for spots she might have missed while coloring her skin. It was all the same, not a speck of her looked like it belonged on a strawberry blond. Aw crap!

He pulled the blanket over the woman, stuffed her clothes into a metal locker, and turned with his scissors to the kid. Staring wide-eyed, the kid said, “Why’d you cut her clothes off?!”

“Need to make sure you guys don’t have any tracking devices on you,” Jamieson said as he started to cut the kids clothes off.

The kid started thrashing around violently, screaming, “Stop!”

Jamieson backhanded the kid, “Shut up and hold still!” With an angry stare he leaned down close to the kid’s face, trying to intimidate the little snot.

Instead of being intimidated, the kid snapped his head forward, bashing his forehead into Jamieson’s already throbbing nose.  Jamieson reared back with an agonized bellow. He had to blink a couple of times to clear his vision.

Then he smacked the kid harder, gratified to see the little shit’s head sagging to the side and his eyes looking dazed. “You hold still or I’m gonna beat the crap out of you!”

Jamieson cut the clothes off the now listless kid, I hope he’s got a concussion! Jamieson thought.

The trailing car from Ell’s security team skidded to a stop beside Amy’s Focus. When they’d realized something was happening up ahead, they’d gone to manual and started to pass the slow-moving vehicle in front of them. When they’d tried to do that, the vehicle had put on its turn signal as if turning left. Dan had swerved back into the right lane to go by on that side, but then the car had turned off its signal and swerved back into the right lane as if its AI had been avoiding the overtaking vehicle. When Dan had turned back to the left lane, it had again tried to turn. Finally realizing that the vehicle was actively blocking them, Dan had accepted some fender damage to force his way past it.

However, by the time they’d arrived at the scene of the kidnapping, all the vehicles which had forced Amy off the road were gone!

Up ahead, Dan saw the lead car speeding back toward him.

Dammit! He thought, looking around. Several roads led away and he had no idea which direction to go.

***

Steve said, “Ell, I’ve got bad news.”

“Zage and Amy’ve been kidnapped.” Ell said rapidly, unwilling to wait for him to explain it at his pace, “I’m on my way.”

“How did you know?!”

“Allan… He monitors everything. He hasn’t been able to localize them off their GPS though. Do you know where they are?”

Steve’s eyes darted up to his HUD, “Um, no, not yet.”

“Do you know what’s wrong?”

“Uhhh… Maybe it’s just taking a minute to acquire?”

“It’s been several minutes already! Where are you?”

“On my way to where they were captured. I can’t review the video from the scene because I’m driving on manual to get there faster.”

“Me too,” Ell grunted.

“Mary,” Steve said, “have you gone over the imaging yet?”

“Working on it still,” Mary said, sounding intently focused. “Vid from the cameras in Zage’s contact shows them being put into a panel van. Current imaging shows no windows in the back and foil between the back and the front driving positions. I suspect no GPS signal is getting into the van for their implants to pick up.”

“Dammit!” Ell said, “I knew we should’ve found a way to put bigger antennas on the implants.”

“Probably still wouldn’t have worked inside that metal box on wheels,” Mary said. “When they take them outside to move them into a building, or whatever, we’ll get the location then.”

“We’re getting farther and farther behind the eight ball though,” Ell said, her voice expressing anxiety and irritation. “Feed me the image from Amy’s cameras.”

The image in Ell’s left contact went black for a second then flashed back to show her the road. Allan said, “There’s no imaging coming from Amy’s cameras so I’m not going to keep giving you the image from it. It’ll only block your view of the road. Her headband’s been put in some kind of a box. I suspect a metal box to block it from getting GPS.”

“Let me see the feed from Zage’s contact then!”

“You should turn the driving of your car back over to the AI before you have me do that.”

“Override the car’s AI and keep it going at the highest possible safe speed. Then give me that feed!”

Ell’s left contact started feeding her a view compatible with the inside of a panel van. It wasn’t very good, because Zage’s eyelid was at half-mast. His head was drooping off to the side and the view pointed toward the floor, rocking back and forth with movement of the vehicle, “Did that son of a bitch drug Zage?!”

“I have not seen him administer any drugs,” Allan said dispassionately, “he did however, strike Zage on the side of the head. I suspect Zage is concussed.”

Ell’s voice seethed with anger, “I’m gonna hurt that bastard!” She watched the back and forth rocking of the image for a moment, then said, “Allan, you should be able to tell when the vehicle turns left and right from the way the image from Zage’s contact leans as it goes around corners. Assume it’s traveling at the legal AI speed and calculate the route it must have taken from the site where they were captured.” Zage’s head lolled to the right and stayed there.

Mary said, “Ell, there was a lot of rocking back and forth from the uneven shoulder when the vehicle pulled back onto the road, Allan won’t be able to tell which direction the van initially turned.”

“All he has to do,” Ell grated, “is figure the distance to the first turn it made. That distance will be different depending on which way the van started. Even if it is uncertain, Allan can calculate the distance to the next turn, then the next… No matter which way they go, eventually they’ll be turning in a direction and at a distance that only fits one route out of there. Trust me, Allan’s good at this kind of stuff.”

Allan said, “Assuming that the vehicle’s under AI control, at standard speed, the timing of the turns they’ve made so far most likely places them at this roundabout.” A map popped up on Ell’s HUD with a red arrow flashing beside one of North Carolina’s many traffic circles. “Unfortunately, the movements of Zage’s head suggests that the vehicle has sped up and slowed down more than one would expect with an AI in control, suggesting it is being driven at least partially on manual control. If so, it could be at either of these two other roundabouts.” More arrows started flashing at the other locations, “In addition, the vehicle has been going around a roundabout for long enough that when it exits, we won’t know which direction it’s going. We could make a guess if we assume it’s going at exactly the standard AI controlled speed, but we couldn’t be sure. I will continue calculating and refining possible locations based on all the data I can get from speed assumptions and Zage’s head motions. I may be able to narrow the possible locations, but it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to define the exact location.”

“Oh geez!” Ell moaned. “Be sure you’re querying GPS constantly. We don’t want to miss a quick transition from the van to a building.” She paused for a second, then said, “Connect me to Zage…” Putting on her Raquel voice, she said, “Zage, can you hear me?”

Zage didn’t respond.

Ell sighed, “Okay, try connecting me through Amy’s implants… Amy, can you hear me?”

No response there either…

***

Zage awoke muzzily as he was being carried down some rough stairs. He struggled a little bit, then realized he was wrapped in a blanket. And his hands and ankles were strapped together! The memories of being dragged out of the car and into the van shot through him. He twisted his head around and managed to poke it out a gap in the blanket. He tried to look around. Someone was carrying him past a room filled with junk. Chairs, fans, wheelchairs, old tables, a couple of bicycles, a toolbox, junk shelves and cleaning supplies. He felt a little muddled and couldn’t quite take it all in, but even though he felt a bit confused, he realized his AI would be able to play it back for him later.

Past the storage room, Zage was carried into a small bedroom with a single double bed, a chest of drawers, a small table, some shelves with books, and nothing else. The man laid the Zage on the bed, unwrapped the blanket from around him, cut the plastic bands around his wrists and ankles with a pair of wire cutters, and stepped back. He pulled open the drawer, rummaged around and then tossed some clothing on top of Zage.

Another man came in carrying Amy, also wrapped in a blanket. She looked unconscious. The guy dumped her unceremoniously on the bed beside Zage. A couple of minutes later, the plastic bands on Amy’s wrists and ankles had been cut. They dropped a coverall on top of her naked form, then went out the door.

Zage heard them setting some locks. He waited quietly until he’d heard the sound of their footsteps going up the stairs. Uncomfortable being naked, once he felt sure they were gone, he rolled quietly off his side of the bed and quickly put on the clothes. Feeling more comfortable himself, he picked up one of the blankets they’d tossed on the floor and used it to cover Amy. As he worked he whispered, “Osprey?” He wondered if they’d removed the ports from inside his ear canals and off the backs of his teeth while he was unconscious. His tongue could feel the bumps of the ports on the back of his front teeth, but wondered if they might have done something to them. However, since that kind of tech had come as a benefit of his mom’s job out at D5R, most people didn’t know it existed. He hoped the men might not have searched hard enough to find it.

With great relief, Zage heard Osprey respond, “Yes?”

“Call 911 and tell them that some bad men have…” Zage realized he wasn’t actually sure what had happened. He’d never heard of kidnapping. “Shot Amy and I and taken us somewhere in a van. Use your GPS to let them know where we are. I think they’re… pretty ruthless.”

“The police and your mom already know what’s happened. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to use GPS to know where you are. I’m connecting you to your mother now.”

Zage heard his mother’s voice, “Zage! Are you okay?”

“Yes…” Zage found himself unable to continue around a sudden frog in his throat. He gasped a little sob; then said, “Some bad men…”

Concern writ large in her voice, Ell said, “I know kid, we’ve been able to watch what happened on Osprey’s record. Um, you should barely whisper when you speak to us. We think they don’t know about the ports in your ears and on the backs of your teeth, or about the HUD in your contacts. We don’t want them to figure that out by hearing you talking to us”

“Why are they doing… this?!” Zage said, his whispery voice trembling.

“Um, probably for… a thing called ransom. They’ll threaten to keep you unless we pay them a lot of money.”

“Oh, no!” Zage didn’t say anything for a second, then in a puzzled tone he said, “Why wouldn’t they steal some rich kid? You guys wouldn’t be able to pay them very much!”

Ell didn’t say anything for a second, as if she were thinking. Then, “We, um, have more money than a lot of people.” She paused, then pointed out, “Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to send you to that special school or pay Amy to help take care of you... Is Amy okay?”

Zage turned to look at Amy, “She’s asleep… I think they did something to her…”

“They probably drugged her,” Ell said. “She’s breathing, so she probably isn’t hurt too bad.”

“Do you want me to take the blanket off so you can look at her?” Zage said with some trepidation. He didn’t think he should be uncovering somebody who was naked, but he didn’t think his mom could tell much about whether or how she’d been injured while she was covered with a blanket.

“Maybe in a little while if she doesn’t seem like she’s waking up.”

Zage glanced over at Amy, “Should I… uh … try to put her clothes on her while she’s still asleep… so she’s not embarrassed when she wakes up?”

“I think,” Ell said, sounding like she was trying to stifle a laugh, “that she might be looking at the record from your AI someday. That might be even more embarrassing. Just look the other way when she needs to get dressed.”

Zage thought for a moment, “I’ll at least straighten her blanket,” he said, doing so carefully. Then he said, “Osprey says he can’t get a GPS signal so he doesn’t know where I am. Do the police know where we are?”

His mom sounded unhappy when she responded, “No, no one’s been able to figure it out yet. We thought we’d get it when they moved you from the van to the house but you weren’t outside long enough to acquire the satellites.” Her voice gained some resolve, “But we’re going to find you. Don’t you worry.”

“Will you… be able to pay enough to make them happy if the police can’t find us?” Zage asked, frightened yet embarrassed. His voice had started trembling again. He didn’t want his mom getting upset because he was scared.

He didn’t want to sound like a little kid, even if he was.

“Yeah,” she said, “we’ll be able to pay them enough, don’t worry about that.”

Zage thought she still sounded worried though. “Is there anything I should be doing right now?”

There was a pause, as if his mom had been surprised by the question. Then she said, “I think you should explore the room they’ve got you in. I’ll be watching through your contacts. Maybe, between the two of us, we can somehow figure out where you are. Or, how you might be able to escape.”

Glad of something positive to focus on, Zage said, “Okay,” and walked over to the door. He jiggled the handle and twisted the knob, looking at the row of new appearing deadbolts above and below it. “I think these are new locks.”

“Yeah,” his mom said, “knock gently on the door. See if it sounds hollow.”

“Hollow?”

“Yeah, a lot of the doors inside buildings are cheaply made with hollow cores. You could kick your way through one of those, but,” she said unhappily, “I doubt they would have installed a row of locks in a hollow core door.”

Zage reached up and knocked gently on it. “It sounds solid to me.”

“Yeah,” his mom said, “try thumping it hard once so we can be sure.”

“Thumping it?”

“Bang on it with your fist, pretty hard, but just once.”

Zage did. “What do you think?”

“It’s solid.” Zage thought his mother was trying not to sound too bummed about it. She said, “Try knocking gently on the wall next to it.”

“The wall?” Zage said, reaching out and gently knocking on the wall near the door. “They don’t make hollow walls, do they?”

“Actually, most walls are hollow. They have this stuff called sheet rock on each side. It’s not really the kind of hard rock you might think. It’s pretty easy to break through.”

Zage said, “I think this one sounds like it’s solid though.”

“Yeah. Try knocking about four inches to one side of where you just rapped on it. You might have been thumping right over a stud.”

A stud? Zage thought. In his favorite topic, biology, a stud was a male animal used to get female animals pregnant. He couldn’t imagine what one would be doing inside of a wall. With a mental picture of a big burly rat hiding in the wall, Zage knocked about four inches to the side of where he’d started. “It does sound hollow here.”

“I think you’re right,” his mother said. “So it’s important that you know that, if you had to, you’d be able to just punch and kick your way through the wall in an area where it sounds hollow like that. That’s only for emergencies though. If you started doing that right now, those men’d hear you doing it. Once they realized how dumb it was to put you in a room where you could get through the wall, they’d do something to make it so you couldn’t.”

Zage frowned, “Mom, why would they keep studs in the wall?”

There was a moment of silence, then evidently his mother understood what he was thinking. He could tell she was suppressing a laugh when she said, “Um, not a male animal. A wall stud is a piece of wood that the sheet rock’s nailed to.”

“Oh… So how do we get through the wall without kicking it down?”

“Let’s keep exploring the room. If you find something hard, you can probably just scratch at the sheet rock until it cuts its way through it. That’d take a while and it’ll still make some noise, but not as much as kicking a hole in it.”

Zage made his way around the room, checking the walls, looking in all the drawers, looking under the dresser and under the bed. The drawers had a few more sets of clothes in them. Zage found some underwear that might fit Amy and took it over to put it on the bed next to her. There were also some short stubby toothbrushes and small tubes of toothpaste. A door in the corner revealed a small closet that contained some coat hangers, a couple rolls of toilet paper, a trashcan, and a blanket.

The trashcan was one of the metal ones with a lid that went up when you stepped on a pedal. It was lined with a heavy plastic bag. His mother had him lift the bag out and look under it “Good,” she said, “there’s some extra bags in the bottom in case you need them.”

“What would I need plastic bags for?”

“I can’t think of anything right now, but they’re surprisingly useful. It’s good to know they’re there.”

The back and right walls of the room were made of something his mother called “concrete block.”

She told him he wouldn’t be able to punch his way through those walls.

She said, “Let’s go back to the left rear corner of the room, beneath the shelves.”

Zage went back to the corner and squatted down. There was a set of shelves in the corner, mounted on the wall. Someone had screwed a couple of metal rails to the wall. The rails had metal brackets sticking out from them that were holding up the wooden shelves. The shelves were empty except for a few ancient paperback books on each. “What did you want to look at back here?” Zage asked.

“Tap on the wall there. See if it’s hollow.” When Zage started to tap on it right below one of the metal rails, she said, “Not there. The rails will be screwed to the studs. Try the area right between the rails.”

Zage tapped there. “It sounds hollow, now what?”

“Hmmm,” his mother said, “step back so I can look at those shelves from a little bigger distance.” A moment later, she said, “Gaze all around the room one more time.”

Zage did, wondering what in the world a wider viewpoint of the shelves would be good for.

His mother said, “Okay, take the chair over into the corner, climb up onto it and move the two books off of that narrow top shelf to the shelf below it.” Once he’d done that, she said, “Lift the empty shelf off the brackets that are holding it up.”

Zage did, feeling a little surprised to realize that the shelf was only sitting on the brackets rather than being fastened to them. “What do I do with the shelf?”

“See if it’ll fit in that drawer underneath all the clothes.”

Zage climbed down and went over to the small chest of drawers. Pulling open the drawer that had the clothes, he pulled them forward and found that the shelf did fit inside the drawer. He pushed the clothes back over it. “Like that?”

“Yeah.”

Curiously, Zage said, “What good did that do?”

“Oh, well, hopefully you’ll see in a minute. Climb back up on the chair and see if you can get the brackets that held the shelf off their rails. Usually, all you have to do is push up on them and they pop out of their little slots.”

Zage did it, feeling a little surprised when the brackets came loose. He did have to bump one of them with the base of his palm before it would come loose. “Now what?”

“For now, hide the brackets in the drawer with the shelf. Then, you’ll do the same thing to move the remaining shelves up and apart a little bit so it’s not so obvious that one of the shelves is missing.”

Zage started to work, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what his mother was trying to accomplish. Not having figured it out, after a bit, he said, “So all this was to get a shelf hidden away in the drawer?”

“Well, if you’ll think about it, you could use that shelf as a club if you had to. But a board like that’d be pretty clumsy. If you decide you need a club, that wooden rod the coat hangers are hanging on in the closet would make a better one.”

“Oh. Should I hide it in the drawer too?”

“No, I’d just leave it in the closet. It’s pretty accessible there.”

“No it isn’t! I can’t reach it without bringing the chair over!”

“Oh… sorry.” His mom sounded a little embarrassed. “I’d forgotten you couldn’t reach it. Yeah, you should get it down. But don’t put it in the drawer, Leave it standing in the corner of the closet. It’ll be easier to get to and won’t be such a suspicious place if they see it there.”

“What should I do with the coat hangers?” Zage asked. He’d finished rearranging the shelves, so he picked up the chair and took it over to the closet.

“I’d leave some of them lying on the floor of the closet and put some of them in the top drawer of the dresser."

Zage got the five hangers down, leaving three on the floor of the closet and carrying two of them over to put in the drawer. Going back, he lifted the wooden closet rod down out of its holder and leaned it up next to the door inside the closet. "Now what?"

"Okay, now take one of the shelf brackets back over to the corner of the room and we’ll see if you can use it to scrape a hole through the sheet rock."

His mother had him use the bracket to mark out a rectangular hole between the studs that the shelves were on. Then he started rubbing hard along one of the marks he’d made, surprised to see that underneath the paint was some cardboard and beneath that some powdery white material, “What is this white stuff, Mom?”

“Gypsum. It’s the ‘rock’ in ‘sheet rock.’ As you can see, it’s pretty soft rock.”

“Um, this is making a big mess. If those guys come back in here, they’re going to see it right away.”

“Oh, back out into the main part of the room and let me get a look at it.”

Zage did so.

“You’re right. I was hoping that it wouldn’t be easy to see back in the corner of the room on the other side of the bed. But if even you can see it, being taller, they’ll see it right away… Look around the room again, let’s see if we get any ideas.”

Zage did.

“The table! It looks like it folds up. Let’s see if you can fold it and lean it against the wall over the hole you’re making."

Zage had never seen a folding table, so his mom had to explain to him how to do it. As soon as she started to explain it, though, it seemed obvious and he quickly finished unhinging it. He carried it over and leaned it against the wall under the shelves where it turned out to nicely cover the hole he’d started to make. "Shall I keep working on the hole?"

His mother didn’t say anything for a moment, then she said, “I'm worried because scraping at the wall makes quite a bit of noise. We don’t want them to come check on what you’re doing. Maybe when Amy’s awake, she can create some kind of distraction."

"Okay, what should I do?"

"Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap?"

"Mom! You know I don’t take naps!" Then Zage felt a little embarrassed, afraid he sounded like a whiny little kid.

“Okay," his mother said, not commenting on his tone. "Get out one of the wire coat hangers."

She had him bend the hook back and forth until he’d broken off a piece about three inches long. Then she had him bend that piece until it had two prongs that would fit into an electrical outlet. She had him use the shelf bracket to scrape the paint off of the tips of the prongs. He looked at it curiously, turning it back and forth, “What good is this?"

"If you plug it into a power outlet it’ll make a short that should

“ drop the circuit breaker.”

She started to explain short-circuits and circuit breakers to him, but he stopped her. “I’ve read quite a bit about electrical circuits and even about house wiring.”

There was a brief pause, apparently while his mom came to grips with not needing to explain it, then she continued, “Hopefully, a lot of the electrical equipment in this old house might be on that same circuit breaker so when it goes out, a lot of their lights and other equipment will shut off. Maybe we’ll be able to surprise those guys if we need to.”

“Oh,” Zage said, still looking at the bent piece of wire.

“Get one of the plastic bags out of the bottom of the trashcan and tear a long strip off of it.” Once Zage had done that, his mom had him wrap the strip of plastic around and around the middle part of the bent piece of wire then tie the ends together so that it would stay. “If you need to try to short out the circuit breaker, hold the wire by the plastic wrapping so you won’t get shocked yourself.”

“Okay,” Zage said. “What next?”

“Take the rest of that coat hanger and pull it out straight into one long doubled wire.”

Zage did that, pulling it out so that it had the twist where the hook had been on one end. It folded back in the middle of the straight part of the wire that had been at the bottom of the hanger. He worked at the kinks that were left to make it a long, straight doubled piece of heavy wire.

“Can you twist it a little?”

Zage did, studying it curiously, “What’s this for?”

“Stick it between the mattress and the box springs with just the end of it sticking out. Then, if you need to, you might be able to pull it out and hit one of those guys with it. If you swing it hard, it’ll hurt pretty bad.” After a pause, she said, “But your best weapon would be the closet rod the hangers were on.”

Zage swung the doubled piece of heavy wire through the air with a “zip” sound. He looked at it once again before he tucked it under the mattress, She’s right, I’d hate to get hit with that!

Zage’s mom said, “I’ve got to talk to a policeman. I’ll be back with you again in a few minutes.”

Zage had been comforted by his mother’s presence, talking in his ears and seeing through his eyes. With her gone, he felt more frightened. As he wondered what to do, Amy moaned.

Zage turned toward her…

Chapter Nine

Roger watched Jamieson suspiciously. They’d carried out their mission almost perfectly and Roger’d expected Jamieson to be elated. Instead Jamieson seemed worried, pacing around and muttering. Roger didn’t think he’d even made a call to demand the ransom yet. Finally Roger said, “What’s the problem?”

Jamieson looked startled, as if he’d forgotten Roger was sitting there. “Just… Just trying to figure out how to work the deal…” He blinked, “why don’t you go down there and check on them. Make sure they’re not… about to cause any problems.”

Roger heaved himself out of the chair, thinking, There’s nothing in that room for them to cause trouble with! But he was being well-paid. He’d just as well do what the boss asked.

As Roger stumped down the stairs, Jamieson called up images of the kid and compared them to Ell Donsaii. The images from today, just like the ones from when he’d met the kid in the woods, still made him think she was the kid’s mother. But he was positive the woman downstairs wasn’t Donsaii! How the hell can I make sure the kid is actually Donsaii’s?! He thought of DNA tests, but he didn’t have a sample of Donsaii’s DNA nor a lab to compare the two. Besides, I need Donsaii! Wang would consider the kid a bonus, something to use as a lever to control Donsaii. But what he really wants is the gray matter in Donsaii’s head!

After desperately circling the issue of how to get Donsaii for a while, he thought, Hell, I’ve got three and a half million! Maybe the smart thing to do would be to gather my money, get the hell out of the country, and have Roger turn the kid loose in a couple of days. Then he thought about Wang. Wang himself wasn’t very scary, but Jamieson had a feeling that the people Wang worked for were real badasses. The kind of people who wouldn’t take kindly to his taking their deposit and running. If I can prove the kid is really hers, I could have Roger give them the kid and tell them the kid’s worth the four million they gave me as a deposit? They could use the kid as a lever to try to make Donsaii give herself up to…

Jamieson’s train of thought arrested. I can use the kid as a lever. In fact, if Donsaii responds to me trying to use the kid as a lever, that’ll be proof that he’s actually her son! He stopped pacing and sat down to try to figure out how to make the demand.

***

Shan arrived at the lonely little stretch of road where the kidnapping had occurred. Cop cars were pulled up willy-nilly, flashing lights strobing on their roofs. Crime tape had been stretched all around the shoulder of the road and cops were directing traffic so that it didn’t encroach on the scene.

He saw Ell talking to a man wearing plain clothes, but who, from the way the other police eyed him, must be an officer or detective. Shan started toward her, then abruptly halted. She’s dressed as Ell!

She saw him and waved him onward, turning back to the detective and speaking loudly enough for Shan to hear, said, “This is the boy’s father Lieutenant.” She turned back to Shan, “Dr. Kinrais, your wife contacted me as soon as her AI told her what happened. I rushed right over to offer what aid I could. She’s on her way back from the island right now.”

Shan restrained himself from giving Ell a hug, even though he saw her hand twitch toward him as if she desperately wanted one too. “What’s happened?!”

Though Shan suspected that Ell might know more about what had happened than the detective, she turned her eyes toward the policeman questioningly.

The lieutenant turned to Shan and waved at Amy’s blue Ford Focus, sitting forlornly off the side of the road, surrounded by the crime scene tape. “Ms. Reston’s car was apparently forced off the side of the road in this isolated area.” He waved around the area, “Probably because there’s little traffic and no security cameras on this stretch. We have, of course, downloaded the video record from Ms. Reston’s AI and her car’s radar, lidar, and camera records. These show three cars surrounding hers and forcing her off the road and up to the side of a van. Your son and Ms. Reston were pulled from the car, put in the van, and then driven away.”

Shan glanced around, trying to imagine what had just happened. He tamped down the desire to watch the video himself and said, “Where’d they go?!”

The detective pursed his lips, looking frustrated, “We don’t know.”

“You haven’t tracked the cars?!” Shan said with dismay and disbelief, “I thought you could do that instan…”

The detective was shaking his head, “They’d apparently disabled the AI’s in their vehicles and were driving them on manual. The traffic system doesn’t think any vehicles were actually here.”

“But…!”

The detective shook his head again, “Mr. Kinrais, I know you’re upset and frustrated right now, but please recognize that each minute that passes makes it harder for us to catch these people. What I need you to do is to stop asking me questions, and let me ask you some. I’ll answer any questions you want later, after I’ve found your son!” He raised an eyebrow indicating he was looking for Shan’s understanding

Though his mind was practically gibbering, Shan shut his mouth and gave a sharp decisive nod, “What do you need to know?”

“Your wife left early this morning, correct?”

Shan resisted the temptation to glance at Ell, but did see a minute nod of the head she made out of the corner of his eye. “Yes Sir,” he said, after all, it was true.

“And you got your son up and fed him breakfast, but then left the house yourself shortly after Ms. Reston arrived?”

“Um, yeah.” Shan almost glanced interrogatively at Ell, but managed not to. Years of practice in less stressful situations helped him keep his behavior in line with their story. “How do you know all this stuff already?”

“We contacted your wife and got permission to download her record of the morning. Unfortunately, she hadn’t really seen anything of interest. Now I’d like to ask you to have your AI send me it’s record of your morning so far,” the Lieutenant lifted an eyebrow.

“Um, sure,” Shan said, speaking briefly to his AI to have it send the record.

“Now I’m sure you’ll understand I can’t take time to watch the entire record right now while time’s of the essence. Is there anything that’s happened this morning that, thinking back on it, might have given you some warning, or for some other reason you think might be relevant?”

Shan shook his head.

“Do you have any idea what these people might want?”

Now Shan had to look at Ell, though he managed to do it while trying to look like he was scanning the scene of the crime. He turned back to the detective, “Actually, I do… but… I’d rather not talk about it here in public. Can we go…”

“Mr. Kinrais!” The cop said heatedly, “Your son’s life may hang in the balance. Might I suggest that you not screw around!”

Shan stepped right next to the policeman and leaned his lips close to the man’s ear. “My wife…” he said, “is Ell Donsaii. She lives her life with me in disguise.”

The detective, who’d started to draw away when Shan invaded his personal space, suddenly froze. As his eyes widened, his gaze jerked to Shan, then around to Ell. “Holy shit!” he breathed.

Ell leaned close to him, “I hope you’ll make an effort to keep our secret. Blow it if you have to, if it’s necessary to save our son, but one of the main reasons we live our lives this way, is to try to keep him from being a target in the first place.”

“Um, yes ma’am,” the Lieutenant said, his mind obviously whirling at the implications. “I’ll do my best… but…”

Ell leaned close again, “Don’t forget, I can bring the resources of D5R to bear on this problem. In fact, I’ll be doing everything I can think of. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you think we might be able to do to help you.”

***

Zage studied Amy. Though she seemed somewhat awake, and did respond to questions, she looked confused. Her answers suggested that she either didn’t understand his questions, or was just making up answers even if they didn’t make sense.

Just as he was wondering whether there might be anything he could do to truly wake her up, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Zage lay down on the bed next to Amy and did his best to look innocent. A moment later, the bolts on the door started turning back. He worried that his captors would immediately see what he’d done to the shelves.

The door opened and, through slitted eyes, Zage saw a man step inside, wearing a mask like the men had worn in the van. The guy looked scary, and Zage wished his mother was still available to provide words of guidance in his ear.

As the man looked around the room, Zage’s heart thumped when it looked like the guy’s eyes stopped in the corner, as if he were looking at the rearranged shelves. Thinking that he needed to distract the man from the shelves, Zage sat up and said, “Who are you?!” Zage didn’t expect him to answer, and if he did answer, he didn’t expect it to mean much. He just wanted the man to look away from the shelves.

“As far as you’re concerned kid, I’m the man who tells you what to do! For now, shut-up!”

The man had taken his eyes away from the shelves, so Zage felt better. Zage thought his voice sounded different than the man who’d cut Zage and Amy’s clothes off in the van. The man started around to Amy’s side of the bed, evidently to see if she was awake. Still wanting to distract him, Zage said, “Leave her alone!”

Glaring at Zage, the man reddened, “I said, shut up! You do not tell me what to do!”

The man started to lift Amy’s blanket, so Zage said, “Don’t touch that!” Trying to sound as appalled as he possibly could, he continued, “She’s naked underneath that blanket!”

“I’ll do whatever I want! And,” the man said, waving at Amy, “if you say another word, I’ll not only smack you, I’ll smack your mother!”

“She’s not my mother!”

Dropping the blanket, the man turned as if to walk back around the bed to Zage’s side. “I said…” Apparently Zage’s words caught up to him at that moment, because he suddenly stopped, turned, and looked back at Amy’s face. Then he looked at Zage’s face, “She is too your mother,” the man said, but he looked uncertain.

“Is not! Amy just helps take care of me when my mom has to work.”

The man’s eyes flashed back and forth from Amy to Zage a couple more times, then he said, “Aw shit!”

Amy chose that moment to sit up a little bit, “Wha’s happen’?”

The guy said assertively, “We’ve kidnapped you and your son here. You’d better hope somebody cares enough about the two of you to pay the ransom!”

Amy looked blearily around and her eyes caught on Zage. “Tha’s not Mikey! Mikey’s nineteen years ol’!”

The man looked suspiciously at Zage for a moment, then turned back to Amy. “Don’t try to bullshit me! That’s your son.”

“Naaww! Tha’s Zage!”

The man looked uncertain. He didn’t say anything else, just went to the door and exited. A moment later Zage could hear him locking the multiple deadbolts, then going up the stairs. Zage turned back to look at Amy, but her head had fallen back on the bed and she looked like she might be asleep again.

Suddenly, Zage felt terribly alone. He stifled a sob, thinking about all the times he’d thought that he was more mature than children his age.

He didn’t feel mature now.

He crept across the bed and, putting his head on Amy’s shoulder, snuggled up next to her.

He felt relieved when her arm slowly came up around him…

***

Jamieson had just about worked out in his mind how to make the call to Donsaii when Roger came back up the stairs. “We don’t have the mother,” he said, “just some kind of babysitter.” He shrugged, “At first I thought that was a disaster, but then I realized that whoever’s paying probably cares just as much, if not more about the kid, than they do about the mother. You should be able to milk them for the same pay off.”

Jamieson almost told him angrily that the mother was the one they really wanted. He stopped himself in time though, realizing just how stupid it would be to tell Roger anything the man didn’t absolutely have to know. Telling him that the mother was the important one would leave only a few small mental steps to figuring out that the kid belonged to Donsaii. Jamieson didn’t really think Roger was smart enough to figure it out, but there wasn’t any reason to take the chance. “Yeah,” he said, “give me some time to figure this out. I’ll stay here and guard them, why don’t you go out and grab some take-out. Enough for both of us and for them.”

“Why don’t we just have it delivered?”

“Because, you idiot, we don’t want to have anybody coming out here that doesn’t absolutely have to be here for some reason.”

The flash of anger that crossed Roger’s face made Jamieson regret insulting him, but he didn’t regret it enough to apologize. After some grumbling Roger headed out to get some pizza.

Jamieson sat down to think again.

After a while he spoke to his disposable AI, “Contact Ell Donsaii. Say it’s about her son.”

***

The Lieutenant had asked Ell and Shan a long list of questions, then moved on to find out what the other officers had learned going over the crime scene. Shan turned to Ell, “What can you tell me?”

“Sadly, not much more than what the Lieutenant told you. Amy’s car was surrounded by three vehicles and forced off the road, stopping right next to a van. They Tased her, drugged her, then dragged her and Zage into the van and drove off. The van didn’t have any windows, so we have no idea where they went.”

“Wait! Surely you know where he is from his GPS tracker?!”

Ell shook her head, “Panel van without windows. They’d covered the openings to the front of the van with foil of some kind. No GPS signal could get in, either to his or Amy’s trackers. They haven’t seemed to consider the possibility that Zage might have an AI HUD in his contacts, so we’ve been able to see what’s going on, but they wrapped both he and Amy in blankets before taking them out of the van. So, we didn’t see what kind of place they were being moved into. The move was quick enough that their GPS didn’t acquire satellites to give us a location then either. Right now they seem to be in the basement of an old building, probably a residence. They certainly aren’t getting a GPS signal down there.”

“So you’ve been able to see what Zage’s doing now?”

“Yeah. I’ve given him some tasks to do which seemed to take his mind off of what was happening, but while we’ve been talking to the Lieutenant one of his captors came down and scared him.”

Shan frowned, “How do you know what’s been happening while we’ve been talking to the Lieutenant?”

“I’m pretty good at multitasking,” Ell said matter-of-factly. “Anyway, right now Zage’s snuggled up to Amy and seems to be getting some comfort from that.”

“Amy’s talking him through it?”

“No, Amy’s been drugged. She’s just starting to wake up, but right now she’s still pretty loopy.” Ell sighed, “It looks like those guys thought Amy was me.”

“Aw, man! So this is another attempt to kidnap you?”

Ell shrugged, “Looks that way.”

“Any idea who it is this time?”

“No. Well, actually, I recognize one of them. An ex-Navy seal, ‘Dirk Jamieson.’ He’s a guy Steve once tried to hire for the security team. He’s been wearing a mask, but I know it’s him. He’s been hanging around the farm, watching the place, and Steve’s team confronted him the one time he came on the property.” Ell shrugged, “So, I’ve heard a recent recording of his voice from that night and seen his face. It probably wouldn’t hold up in court, but I know it’s him.”

Shan frowned, “So… this guy… what would he be doing? Just a regular kidnap for ransom? He wouldn’t be trying to get you to do… science stuff like your previous kidnappers, would he?”

“Seems unlikely. But, we’ve got to consider that he might be a hired gun for someone else.” Ell sighed, “I hope he’s just a guy going for ransom. If so, we should be getting a call pretty soon.”

“A call over PGR that we won’t be able to trace!” Shan said dispiritedly.

“Yeah, my own invention, coming back to bite me in the ass.” She held up a finger for a pause, then focused grimly on Shan, “I’m getting a call about Zage from someone who might be the kidnapper. I need to talk to him, but Zage has also called. Can you talk to the kid?”

Shan nodded, then spoke to his AI, “Put in a call to Zage… Zage, Mom can’t talk right now, but I can. How are you holding up?”

“Dad!” Zage said, sounding tremendously relieved. “Did Mom tell you that Amy and I’ve been kidnapped?!”

“Um, yeah… Did the, uh, guys who’ve got you say what they want?”

“One of them said they wanted ransom. That’s what mom said she thought they’d want… Mom said you guys should be able to pay them?”

“Um, yeah.” Shan almost said something about how hard it could be to work out a ransom negotiation, but bit his tongue. No reason to get Zage worried about that. “We probably can.”

“I don’t understand why they wouldn’t have kidnapped somebody whose parents are really rich?! Do you think they just made a mistake?”

“Um, maybe.” Shan couldn’t think of anything more to say, even though he thought it would be helpful to Zage to keep talking.

Zage rescued him, “Mom had me doing some stuff. It took my mind off of… things,” Zage trailed off. “Can you tell me some stuff to do? Like how to fight? Mom wouldn’t know about that kind of stuff.”

If only you knew, kid, Shan thought, thinking about the terrorists and kidnappers Ell had taken on in the past. To Zage he said, “Tell me about what Mom’s had you doing. I don’t want to be telling you to work on the same things.”

Zage showed Shan the twisted coat hanger Ell had had him make and the bent and insulated piece of coat hanger wire that he could use to short out a socket. Zage walked to the closet and showed him the one inch diameter wooden closet rod standing in the corner to be used as a club. Then went to the corner and explained how Ell had taught him that he could cut a hole in the sheet rock. “But she said not to work on that right now. Scraping at the sheet rock makes quite a bit of noise so I’m supposed to wait until Amy’s awake and can make some other noise to cover it up.” Zage’s eyes swept the room, then he said, “I’m sure you’ve got some better ideas?”

Shan had been feeling awed by what Ell and Zage had accomplished in the few minutes Ell had been able to talk to him earlier. Being confronted by Zage’s expectation that he’d have a better idea left him feeling inadequate. “Well, uh, let’s talk about how to fight. That closet rod’s a lot better weapon than the wire, because it’ll hit harder. So if you need to attack them and you get a choice, that’s what I’d go for. The best place to hit them would…”

Zage interrupted, “I punched one of them in the nose when he was getting me out of Amy’s car. That seemed to work pretty well ‘cause his eyes watered and he couldn’t seem to see very well for a while.”

“Yeah, getting hit anywhere in the head is pretty rough. The nose can be really bad. But, you’re short enough that you might not be able to reach their heads. If you’ve got that stick, you could always hit them on the shins or the kneecaps. That hurts really bad. I wouldn’t hit them in those spots with your fists though, it might hurt you worse than it does them.”

“Oh,” Zage said thoughtfully.

“Hitting them in the crotch should hurt them pretty bad too.”

“In the… penis?!” Zage said, sounding appalled.

“Well, actually, in the testes,” Shan said, realizing his biologically fascinated son would probably understand the medical terms better than any slang.

“Oh,” Zage said thoughtfully. “Yeah, I got hit in the testes once. It was awful!”

“You might be able to break their fingers, or the lower parts of their arm if you get a good swing with that stick. If you have to hit them with your fist though, your best places would be the crotch or the nose. Also, remember you can kick harder than you can punch, so if you get the chance you’d rather kick them.” Shan thought for a second, then continued, “But you might not be able to kick high enough to hurt those guys.”

Zage got up and went over to the closet. He pulled out the wooden closet rod and swung it a few times as if to get a feel for it.

Shan blinked. Zage was swinging the rod so it almost whistled. Looks like he’s inherited his mother’s speed, Shan thought with some satisfaction. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be hit by a stick going that fast!

Zage said, “Thanks. What else could I be doing?”

Shan’s mind spun for a second, then he said, “See if you’re small enough to climb under the bed. If you need to hide, it’d be good to know if you can get under there.” Frustratedly, he thought, That’s got to be the lamest suggestion ever!

Evidently, Zage didn’t think so. He clambered off the bed and slid under it. “I fit pretty well,” he said, “but I’d think they’d look under here right away if they couldn’t find me.”

Shan tried not to sigh, “You’re right, but there might be some situation where you want to do it, so it’s good to know it’s possible. Give me a minute to think of other ideas.”

Zage was waiting impatiently for his dad to tell him what to do next when Amy sat up and said, “I’ve gotta pee!” Then she looked down at herself, “Where are my clothes?!”

Zage said, “The kidnappers took them. I think they’re afraid we might have stuff in them we could use to locate ourselves and talk to people.”

“Kidnappers?” Amy said, still looking bleary. Apparently forgetting about the kidnapper question, she evidently started thinking about Zage’s location comment. She started to reach up toward her head, and said, “But…”

Zage interrupted her, both shaking his head and waving his hand, “No!” He walked around to her and leaned up close. He whispered, “Don’t say anything about the AI ports in your ears or on your teeth, or the HUD in your contacts. We don’t think they know about that kind of tech and they might have microphones here in the room that they can hear us with.”

“Okay… But I’ve got to… go to the bathroom. Are there any clothes for us?”

Zage said, “There’s a coverall wrapped up in the blanket with you and some underwear beside you on the bed. I’ll turn my back so you can get dressed.”

Zage turned his back to Amy and moved away from her, then he whispered to his dad, “Dad! There’s no bathroom down here and… now I have to go too! What are we going to do?!”

“Wait until Amy’s dressed, then pound on the door until they come. They’ll probably take you to a bathroom upstairs…” After the pause, Shan continued excitedly, “If they do, get as close to any windows as you can. Osprey might be able to pick up a GPS!”

“How would he do that?” Zage asked, sounding puzzled. “I’ve been thinking about it and realized that since they took all my clothes I don’t have anything that has a GPS receiver for Osprey to pick up my location with.”

“Um, you have one implanted in your neck,” Shan said, sounding uncomfortable.

“I do?!” Zage asked, astounded. “When did I get that?!

“When you were a baby.”

“Really?! Why?!”

“Um, because we were worried about something like this. Unfortunately, because they put you in that metal van, GPS didn’t work. But if you get upstairs near a window, there’s a pretty good chance we’ll be able to figure out where you are and come after you.”

Behind him, Amy said, “Where’s the bathroom?!”

“There isn’t one down here. We should bang on the door so they’ll come down and take us to it.”

Amy rushed to the door and started pounding on it, shouting that she had to pee.

***

Jamieson’s disposable AI said, “Ell Donsaii’s answering your call.”

“Disguise my voice…” Jamieson said to the AI, then, “Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Jamieson, tell me what you want.”

How the hell does she know it’s me?! There was no doubt it was Donsaii. Jamieson’d heard her voice on news clips a million times since he’d first applied for a job with her security team all those years ago. For a moment, he considered trying to say he didn’t know who “Jamieson” was, but then decided just not to acknowledge her use of his name. “I have your son.”

“Tell me what you want,” she said, not sounding flustered at all—though her tone was icy.

Cold-blooded bitch! Jamieson thought. “Would you like him back?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

Jamieson had expected begging. Or maybe threats from the woman who’d put down all those terrorists. At least questions about whether the boy was okay or where he was. Calling his question “stupid” wasn’t something he’d expected and left him feeling uncertain. After a moment’s pause, he said, “I want you. When I have you, I’ll turn the boy loose.”

“Sure!” she said instantly, actually sounding as if she were pleasantly surprised. “How, when, where?”

Stunned by her immediate acceptance, Jamieson suddenly felt worried. He remembered how she’d taken out the terrorists, and that Wang had told him that she’d dismantled the three previous teams that’d tried to kidnap her. Uncertainly, he said, “My partner will be holding your son until I have you restrained.”

“Sure, how, when, where?” she said as if she were impatient to get the exchange in motion.

Shit! Jamieson thought, feeling even more uncertain. “I’ll call you back,” he said, suddenly wanting more time to plan this out. Then, wanting the upper hand, he said, “You’d better be ready.”

“I’m ready now. How, when and where?!”

“I’ll call you back!” Jamieson barked, frustrated. “AI, disconnect this call.” What the hell! The fact that the conversation had gone so far from what he’d scripted in his mind left him disconcerted. He’d expected to have to threaten her with harm to the child to get her to agree. He’d expected demands to see that the child was okay. He’d thought he might get shunted to an FBI negotiator. He’d even thought she might deny the child was hers.

Immediate agreement to show up whenever and wherever he wanted… Not part of any expected script.

She sounded eager to become his captive.

So, I Tase her as soon as I set eyes on her. I shoot her with the trank dart. I keep Tasing her until I’m sure the tranquilizers are working. He thought for a minute. I’ll use steel handcuffs on her ankles and wrists. No cheap plasticuffs for this. Then I drive her and the kid directly to the Wang handoff—get her off my hands before she wakes up and does anything.

But where can I get her to turn herself over—a place where no one could have followed her?

***

As Amy continued pounding on the door and demanding to be let out to the bathroom, Zage wondered whether he should get the closet rod. When the guy opened the door, maybe Zage could attack him? Maybe he could hurt the guy bad enough to slip past and run upstairs? He stepped over to the closet, cracked the door and slipped his hand inside to grasp the top of the rod.

It did no good. A minute or two later an angry voice on the other side of the door said, “Shut up!”

Amy stopped yelling and said more quietly, “I have to pee! So does Zage. You’ve got to let us out to the bathroom!”

The guy said, “That’s what the trashcan in the closet’s for.”

“What?!” Amy said, her voice louder and edging towards hysterical.”

“Pee in that. It’s lined with plastic.”

“That’s… disgusting!”

“Better than peeing down your leg, and all you’re going to get. Now shut up or I’m going to come in there and beat the crap out of you!”

“But…” Amy said, her eyes darting toward the closet where the trashcan was while she tried to think of something to say that would make him see reason. By the time she’d turned back toward the door, Zage could hear the man going up the stairs. “Please…” she said.

Zage said, “He’s already most of the way up the stairs. If you want him to hear you, you’re going to have to scream again.” He pulled open the door of the closet to look at the trashcan and stepped on the pedal to see that the plastic liner was still in place. If Amy wasn’t going to use it, he was.

“Oh!” Amy said in a high pitch, “I can’t hold it any longer!” She waddled across the room toward the closet, her thighs pressed together.

Zage pulled the door open wide so she could go in. There wasn’t a light in the closet so he wondered if she would want the door closed. She settled the question by pulling it closed except for a small crack.

To avoid listening, Zage moved across the room. After a bit, the door opened a little bit more, evidently to let in some light. Zage could hear the rustling of plastic. Some thumping followed. Finally Amy came back out, looking embarrassed. “This is… really terrible Zage,” she said. “At least there were a lot of bags in the bottom of the trashcan. I took mine out and… tied it off and put it back in the corner. There was a closet rod on the floor in there. I put it up where it belongs and hung the plastic bags over it so that they’re easier to get to without having to reach down into the trashcan.” She stepped all the way out and held the door, “I know it’s embarrassing, but I heard you say you had to go and I don’t know anything else we can do, at least right now.”

Zage gave a sharp nod and stepped into the closet himself. Once he’d relieved himself, he came back out. Amy gave him a hug. Once again he found the human contact reassuring. “Um,” he said.

Amy said, “Yes?” But then, without waiting for him to continue, she looked down at herself, patting around her coverall while she said, “I really don’t remember much. That man came in the car and I think he shot me?! Then I don’t remember anything until I woke up having to pee so badly. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Um, he shot you with a Taser. Then an animal tranquilizer dart. I’ll tell you what I know,” he said, then lowered his voice to a whisper, “but can you get the closet rod back down and stand it in the corner where it was? My mom said we might be able to use it as a club, but I can’t reach it up there.”

Amy’s eyes widened and she whispered back, “I’m… not sure we should try to hit those guys with it. It’d probably only piss them off.”

Zage said, “That might be, but we need to keep our options open.”

After a second, Amy shrugged and went over to take the rod back down. “I’m putting the plastic bags on the floor, okay?”

“Sure.” Zage brought Amy up to date about the fact the men seemed to be holding them for ransom and that they didn’t seem to know that Zage and Amy would be able to communicate with the outside world through AI equipment in their ears, on their teeth, and in Zage’s contacts. Speaking very quietly, he said, “Did you know we have implanted GPS antennas?”

Amy nodded.

Zage continued, “But our AIs can’t get a GPS signal down here in the basement so we can’t tell anyone where we are.” Zage finished, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Amy rubbed his shoulder and gave it a little pat, “Don’t worry, your mom’ll get us out of here.”

Zage felt a little surprised that Amy expected his mom, rather than his dad, to be the one to get them out. Quietly, he said “She’s the one that suggested using the closet rod as a club.” Zage also showed Amy the twisted coat hanger under the mattress that could be used as a whip and the bent wire that could be used to short out the circuit breakers. “And over here,” he said, moving to the corner and warming to his explanation, “Mom says we can cut a hole in the wall.” He leaned the table away from where he’d marked out the hole and started cutting one side of it. He looked back at Amy, “I’m sure my dad’ll have some great ideas too, he just hasn’t had much time to talk to me yet.”

Amy blinked a couple of times. She kept her voice down as well and said, “Do we have any idea what’s on the other side of that wall?”

“Osprey, send Amy and I the video record from when they carried me in.” He watched Amy and could tell when the image came up in her contact. “It’s a room where somebody seems to be storing a lot of junk. Look at all that stuff! Bicycles, fans! A shopping cart! Why would anybody keep so much junk in their basement?”

Bemused, Amy said, “Some people never throw anything away.” She asked her AI to play the short run of video for her again. “You think we’d come out in that back right corner?”

“I guess.” Zage said. “Dad says if we can get upstairs, our GPS receivers might be able to get a signal.”

Amy nodded. “I think we might need to get near a window too, not just upstairs. It’d be even better if we can get outside.”

Zage said, “Once we’re out of this room and up the stairs, it might not be too hard to get outside, or at least near a window.” He looked back at the corner, “Can you make some kind of noise that’ll cover up the sound of me trying to saw my way through the wall?”

Amy looked around thoughtfully for a minute, then said, “I think the sound they might believe the easiest would be you crying. Can you show me how to saw through the wall?”

“I don’t cry!” Zage said indignantly.

Amy gave him an indulgent look, “They,” she pointed up at the ceiling, “don’t know that. They’ve probably hardly ever spent any time around five year olds, at least since they were that age themselves. They probably think kids your age cry all the time.”

Zage rolled his eyes, “Okay.” He went over and got the shelf bracket out of the drawer. “This is what you do.” Zage scraped the bracket up and down twice, showing Amy how it dredged out a powdery stream of gypsum. He stopped, turning back to look and see if she had the idea. As soon as he stopped, however, he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs outside.

Standing quickly, Zage stood the folding table back against the wall over the hole and stepped to the drawer to put the bracket back underneath the clothing. When the bolts started turning back, confirming that one of the men intended to enter, he panicked for a second over the thought that they were looking for the source of the noise. He fell to the floor, buried his face in his hands and began sobbing in a loud rasp that he hoped sounded something like the noise of the bracket on the sheet rock.

Peering through a gap in his fingers, Zage saw the door open an inch, then push open wider. He could only see the man’s boots. “What’s wrong with the kid?” The man asked, sounding angry that he had to listen to the crying. Again, the voice wasn’t the man who’d been in the back of the van.

Amy said indignantly, “He’s scared and misses his mommy, what did you expect?!”

“Well, you guys better hope his Mommy and Daddy come through with the cash then,” the man said in an ugly tone. Then he barked, “You! Kid! Shut the hell up!”

Zage sobbed one more time, but he could tell from the way the man’s boots moved that the guy had stepped toward him.

A sudden violent blow rolled Zage over, “I said, shut up!” the man bellowed.

Zage curled around himself and stopped making noise despite agonizing pain in his right side.

The door closed and Zage heard the bolts being turned closed.

Zage peered out. A pizza box and a six pack of water bottles had been left on the floor.

Chapter Ten

When she’d finished the call from Jamieson, Ell had tried to contact the detective she’d met earlier at the crime scene. He shunted her to an FBI agent who, since it was a kidnapping, had taken over the case. “Agent Calder?” she asked, wondering exactly what the detective had told the agent.

“Yes ma’am.”

“This is Raquel Blandon Kinrais, Zage Kinrais’ mother?”

“Wait,” the woman said, “I thought Ell Donsaii was the boy’s mother?”

Changing her voice to Ell’s, Ell said, “Same person. I was hoping the Lieutenant told you that I live with my husband as Raquel Kinrais in order to protect my son from just the kind of thing that happened here this morning.”

“Oh, yeah. He did tell me that.”

“I’m hoping that you can make an effort to keep our secret as well?”

“Yeah, I’ll try. But I won’t let it stand in the way of recovering your son…”

“Nor would I ask you to. Getting him back is the most important thing. If blowing our secret is necessary, by all means do so. But if it’s not necessary, please consider that keeping it might help protect him in the future.”

“Yeah… sure. What did you call about? I’ve got about a million things to do here.”

Not impressed by the agent so far, Ell told her about the call from Jamieson. “Would you like me to forward you the audio record?”

“Yeah, send it. Can’t hurt. You’re calling this guy ‘Jamieson’? Did he give you that name?”

“No, but he applied for a job on my security team many years ago and didn’t get hired. Recently he’s been hanging around my little farm with surveillance gear. Even though he had his AI disguise his voice, I felt sure it was him.”

“You mean he had the AI put some funny sound effect on his voice? Or did it take each of his words and substitute in another person’s recorded words in their place? That’s the way AIs usually disguise voices.”

“The latter, but, he has a slight cadence to the way he speaks. That still came through.”

“Oh,” the agent said, sounding dubious. Then, firmly, “If any further calls come from the kidnappers, forward them directly to me. I’ll deal with him.”

For a second Ell said nothing; then she said, “Sorry, I can’t do that. I’ll connect you in on the call so you can listen and give advice, but I will talk to him myself.”

“Look Ms. Donsaii, you need to leave this to the professionals.”

“He’s my son…”

Calder interrupted, “And I’m his best chance! You need someone with training and experience handling this!”

Trying not to sound as irritated as she felt, Ell said, “I’ve got experience.”

“What kind of experience?!” Calder asked, her voice full of disbelief.

“I’ve been kidnapped four times. Well, two of them were only attempts.”

There was a long silence, then Calder said, “And who got you out?” To Ell it sounded like she was hoping to hear that it was the FBI, thus proving her point.

“I did. Now, I’ll let you get back to your work. When Jamieson calls again, I’ll connect you in to the call.” Ell cut the connection, hoping she hadn’t alienated the woman so much that she’d give away the Raquel Blandon secret out of spite. “Allan, connect me to Zage… Hi Zage.”

To her horror, she heard Zage crying, though it didn’t sound much like normal crying. Instead, he was making a regularly spaced raspy squall. “Zage?” she asked with trepidation.

“Hi Mom,” he said, then squalled again, then said, “I’m crying to cover,” he squalled again, “the sound of Amy sawing,” he squalled again, “through the sheet rock.” After one more squall, he said, “Just a sec… Amy, can you hold on for a minute? My mom’s calling.”

Ell heard Amy’s voice coming from further away and asked Allan to connect Amy into the conversation.

Now Amy came in clearly. She said, “I’m almost through the wall anyway.”

Ell said, “Amy, sorry you got caught up in this mess. How are you holding up?”

“So far, I’m doing okay. They drugged me and I slept through a lot of it. Zage thinks they only took me because they thought I was you.”

“Yeah,” Ell wondered whether there was any chance that they could keep their secret from Zage anymore, but didn’t see any reason to just give it up by saying what the kidnappers were really after. “Two hostages were better than one, I guess.”

Amy said, “Have they made their demands yet?”

“Yeah, we’ll be able to give them what they want, don’t worry.”

“But what if…” Amy stumbled to a stop. Ell thought she’d probably been about to ask, What if the kidnappers don’t release Zage and me? But then she’d realized that wasn’t something Ell would want Zage to hear.

Zage said, “I still don’t understand why they wouldn’t have kidnapped some really rich kid! They could have gotten a lot more money than they could from you.”

“They think they’re getting a lot. I don’t think they’re going to be very happy when they get it though,” Ell said grimly.

“When’s the exchange supposed to happen?” Amy asked.

“Don’t know yet. They’re probably trying to figure out how to make the exchange without getting caught.” After a moment’s pause, “He’s calling now, so I’ve got to go. Love you guys.”

“Bye…”

***

Steve chewed a fingernail as he watched the feeds from Zage and Amy’s cameras. Amy had scraped all the way through the gypsum of the sheet rock to the layer of cardboard on the far side and was trying to figure out what to do next. Steve spoke to his AI, “Connect me to Amy… Amy, this is Steve.”

Even over the connection, Steve could feel Amy sagging with relief. She said, “Thank God! Are you guys about to pick us up?”

“Um, no. We still don’t know where you are.” He sighed, “We’ve tried all kinds of human as well as computer analysis of the video stream of you guys riding in the back of that van, trying to figure out where it took you by turns, and estimated distance. We’ve even knocked on a few doors that we thought might have been the right place. No joy so far, though we’re still working. Ell’s having to deal with the guy about the ransom, so she asked me to watch you guys’ feeds and try to give you advice.” He paused, “If we can just figure out how to get you up out of that basement and get a GPS signal, we’ll be there pronto!”

“Okay,” Amy said, disappointedly. “What do you suggest? This hole in the sheet rock is all the way through on the near side, and through to the cardboard on the far side. I think I can just kick out the piece on the far side.”

“Rather than kick it, which’ll make a thump, I suggest you just push steadily in one corner so it very slowly rips out. Hopefully that’ll make a lot less noise.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.” Amy sat down and put a heel against the lower left corner. Over a minute or two, she pushed steadily and the rectangular segment of sheet rock she’d sawn loose fairly quietly ripped through the cardboard around the lower edges on the other side. It tilted up on the hinge of the cardboard at the top. She said “That worked great Steve.”

Steve heard Zage’s voice in the background asking Amy who she was talking to. Steve spoke to his AI again, “Connect me to Zage as well as Amy… Zage, this is Steve. I’m a friend of your mother’s. You’ve met me a few times, but they were a long time ago so you might not remember. She’s asked me to help you and Amy try to get upstairs so you can get a GPS signal.” He paused for a second, then said, “You guys have done a great job of cutting that hole. Amy, can you poke your head through so we can see whatever there is to see on the other side?”

“Okay…” The view from Amy’s camera lowered down and went into the hole. “Damn, this is kind of tight,” she said, “I should’ve cut it bigger.” She did manage to poke her head through the hole and look around, giving a view of the back side of the room that hadn’t been visible in Zage’s video from when they’d carried him into the room. “The light’s pretty bad.” They couldn’t see very far and certainly not all the way to the front of the room because a lot of the old, probably broken, electrical appliances were piled back near the opening in the wall. “It’ll take me a while to squeeze through this hole Steve. I’m worried that if they come downstairs while I’m on the other side it’ll give away our secret. I think I should make the hole bigger first.”

Zage said, “I know I’m fat, but I’m still a lot smaller than Amy. Let me try.”

Amy had just pulled herself out of the hole. She sounded horrified, “We can’t let you do that Zage, it’s too dangerous!”

Despite Amy’s words, Zage got down and started crawling into the hole. As he went, he said, “If we cut the hole bigger, the piece of sheet rock we cut out of the hole won’t fit it anymore and the hole’ll be a lot more obvious. Besides, I’m already through,” he said, easing the little sheet rock flap back down part way into its hole so it didn’t thump in noisily. “Wow, this is a lot of stuff!” he said gazing around. Even though there wasn’t much light, he could see fairly well because his AI contacts amplified what there was. He worked his way over and around the piles until he could see up the stairs. At the top was a door with a row of deadbolts like the door to their room. “It doesn’t look like I can get through that,” he said, disappointment obvious in his voice. He paused for a second, then said, “Maybe, if Amy calls for the guy, when he opens the door to come down I can trip him. Once he falls down the stairs, I can run up and out the door and try to get a GPS signal.”

Amy said, “No! Absolutely not! Get back in here! I can hear men walking around upstairs!”

Zage didn’t even acknowledge her demands. Instead, he said, “What do you think Steve?”

Steve said, “Amy, they’ll be trying not to hurt Zage. I can’t say the same for you. And, because of his size, he’ll be able to do this better than you will.” After a moment’s pause, he said, “Zage, I don’t think you should do it right this second. First of all, you need to look around this basement and find something to trip the guy with.”

“Oh!” Zage said, “There was all that wire back in the corner with the electronics. I could tie a piece of it across the stairs!”

“Good idea.” Steve said, “You could also try to put something lower on the stairs that he’d land on after he tripped.”

“You mean…” Zage said, sounding a little bit puzzled, “like that mattress, so he won’t get hurt so bad when he lands?”

“Um, no,” Steve said, trying not to laugh, “I was thinking more of some sharp cornered metal things so he’ll get hurt worse.”

“Oh… Okay. I don’t like those guys very much.”

Zage went back to the back of the room where he sorted through the wire back there. When he started back toward the stairs, Steve said, “I think you should wait a while before you set your trap. They’ll probably bring you dinner this evening. When they bring it, they won’t be on guard like they might if Amy screams and yells to get them to come downstairs. Besides, if you do manage to get outside, it’d be a lot better if the sun was down and the light was dim. We’ll be coming as soon as we get your GPS info, but if they can’t find you, they won’t be able to move you to another location.”

“Okay,” Zage said. “If there’s no rush, I’ll look around some more down here. Maybe we’ll get some more ideas.”

***

Vanessa looked around the lab, feeling a little surprised. Zage came in almost every day, but he hadn’t been here the past two days because of the weekend. He was always here on Mondays, so Vanessa had really been expecting him. She wondered how his rats were doing, so she called up their weights. Her AI had already been set up to plot their weights as either gains or losses. The plot appeared as a bar graph with gains in green and losses in red, the losses going down instead of upward on the Y axis.

A small grin wafted across her face as she saw that about half of the animals had a down going red bar. Since rats normally gained weight almost their entire life—unless they got sick—any rats that lost weight likely had something going on. Without breaking the randomization code, she couldn’t know whether the ones that lost weight were the ones getting Zage’s peptide, but she suspected she had a pretty good idea. I should be pissed about the way all his ideas turn out to be golden!

But I like the little bugger too much to hate him for it.

For a moment she wondered whether she should send him a message with the results, Nah, he can check those results on his AI from home. Maybe that’s why he didn’t feel the need to come in?

***

At 5 o’clock, Zage crawled back through the hole and out into the storage room. Amy held the bent piece of coat hanger wire, ready to push it into a wall outlet and drop some circuit breakers if they needed a distraction.

Though neither Steve nor Amy had noticed, Zage managed to take the closet rod with him. His first step was to quietly scoot a big box closer to the side of the stairs. He put a stool next to the big box so he could climb up on it more quickly. Standing on the box, he scrambled between the widely spaced 2x2 balusters and tied a piece of heavy gauge wire to a baluster on the far side, attaching it about eight inches above the riser. Backing up, he tied the wire at the same height on the near side, stretching it as tightly as he could above the stair. As he climbed down, he paused on top of the box and pictured in his mind the mad scramble he’d be making from the box onto the stairs after the man had gone by. Hopefully had gone by, tripped, fallen down the stairs and… wouldn’t be getting right back up. Zage had found that mental rehearsal had helped him with physical tasks in the past.

At the bottom of the stairs, Zage put an overturned stepstool, legs up and rubber feet removed. Next to that, he placed an old fan that no longer had the protective cage around its metal blades. Zage stood looking at their positions for a minute; then he adjusted them so they sat where Zage thought the man’s feet might land if he managed to keep his legs underneath him.

He decided the man would be falling forward, even if he did land on his feet. He looked around for something that would make it hard for the guy to catch himself with his hands. He didn’t see any other small, sharp, difficult to land on, objects. Then his eyes caught on the metal shopping cart. The top piece of heavy gauge steel wire had come loose from its welds on the right side. This left the row of vertical metal wires sticking up unprotected. If the man tried to catch himself on those, it would definitely hurt his hands. Zage rolled the cart over to where he thought the man might grab it.

In his ear, Zage heard Steve. “Good set up, Zage. If he comes stumbling down the stairs and grabs that, the wires could cause him some real trouble.”

Zage’s eyes were still sweeping around the storage room. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Steve said, “Let’s go look at those shelves with all the cans and bottles. A lot of the stuff found in spray cans is flammable. If you could find a way to light them, they might give you a torch. Although,” he mused thoughtfully, “I’m not sure a torch would be really useful in this situation…”

Zage had reached the shelves and started turning the various cans and bottles around so that their labels could be seen. The increased light gathering capability and light amplification provided by his AI contacts let him read them easily, even in the dimly lit storage basement. Steve said, “Oh! Wasp spray! Some of those can be pretty irritating if you spray somebody in the eye… although a lot of people advise against it. Let’s see what else there is.” Zage kept going through boxes, cans and bottles. There was paint, paint thinner, detergent, window cleaner, ammonia, oil, brake fluid, and Drano. Steve said, “Wow! A lot of that stuff is really noxious. You can attack him with almost any of them, the question is, which would be easiest to deliver? Let’s look at where you’re going to hide.”

Zage went back over to the stairs. He moved the big box next to the stairs a little, then climbed up on it. Now he could stand on it where he wouldn’t easily be seen when the door first opened. Taking up that position, he said, “How about if I stood here?” He swung around the corner and looked up toward the door in order to show Steve what he meant. “I could throw a cup full of stuff at him, using that cup that’s in the box of detergent.”

“You’ll be throwing with your left hand.” Steve said, doubtfully, “If you missed, you wouldn’t get another chance. I think we should go with that can of spray window cleaner. It’s mostly ammonia and you can just keep shooting until you do hit the guy in the eyes.”

Zage said, “I can hit him with whatever’s in the cup. That’d deliver a bigger dose.” While he said that he’d been climbing down off the box. He went back to the shelves and pulled the measuring cup out of the box of Tide. He got down the ammonia.

Resignedly, Steve said, “I still think you ought to take the spray window cleaner, but if you’re going to use the straight ammonia, take a whiff of it first. If it’s been down here for years, it might not be any good anymore.”

Zage unscrewed the cap from the bottle of ammonia and, gave it a gentle sniff. After a fit of coughing, he said, “I think it’s still good.” He poured the cup nearly full. Then he took the spray window cleaner and squirted some into the air, taking a nearby sniff. “This stuff smells pretty noxious too, I’ll take it along for backup.” He went over and set the cup full of ammonia and the spray window cleaner on a high shelf near the box he’d be standing on.

Zage looked around at the set up for a minute, pondering. I’ll probably only get one chance at this. I should do everything I can think of. Stepping back over, he picked up another wire. This one had a plug on one end and bare wires on the other as if someone had pulled it out of an appliance they were discarding. He pulled the two wires a little bit apart, then, holding them separated, he plugged it in. He touched one wire, then the other, to the concrete floor. The second wire sparked, telling him it was the “hot” wire. Unplugging it, he peeled the neutral wire back and tied a knot in it to make sure he could keep them straight.

Back over at the shopping cart, he twisted the hot wire onto the bare stainless frame of the basket. He dropped the neutral wire onto the floor and set a heavy can of paint on it. He plugged the wire into an extension cord and carried the plug end of the cord back over and tied it to the high shelf beside the stairs. Getting another extension cord he plugged it in then tied the socket to the same high shelf next to the stairs so the two extension cord ends were close to one another. Watching the cart, Zage plugged the cord together briefly. As he’d hoped, the rubber wheels on the cart kept it isolated from ground so a short didn’t drop the circuit breaker.

Zage unplugged the cords, then looked up toward the door, wondering how much longer it’d be before the man brought them some food.

Steve had been watching Zage’s electrification of the shopping cart with a mixture of fascination and disbelief. That’s just… evil, he thought, and… just what a kidnapper deserves!

***

Ell stretched. Despite the tension, she still felt bored. She’d been sitting under the trees beside this small rural road for hours now.

Jamieson had had her leave her own house and take her own car under AI control to a GPS location he’d provided. Ell had endured a gradually progressive tongue lashing from FBI agent Calder during the trip. Calder wanted Ell out of the communication loop with Jamieson and desperately wanted Ell to stay the hell away from wherever Jamieson told her to go. Ell had repeatedly, yet always politely, reminded Calder that she could listen in and advise, but not interfere. Ell would handle the situation her way.

The location Jamieson had chosen turned out to be on a relatively rural road overhung with trees, similar to where she was now. Presumably Jamieson hoped the trees would block overhead surveillance and perhaps even GPS signals. She’d arrived there at what probably amounted to the peak of rush-hour for people going home on that road. Cars were going by in both directions at a fairly high frequency.

When Ell had arrived there she’d found a red Ford Focus parked beside the road. Jamieson had told her to pull up behind it, leave her AI headband in her car and quickly get in the Focus. Once in the car, she’d seen a disposable AI headband lying on the dash with its cameras facing her. It had a handwritten note below it saying, “Put this on.”

Once she had it on, Jamieson had spoken to her through the headband, “Good to see you followed instructions and left your headband behind—presumably he knew this because he’d looked at her through the disposable headband before she put it on. I hope you can drive a car without an AI. Pull out into traffic.”

Ell pulled out into the dense traffic, per Jamieson’s instructions heading the opposite direction. She found it hard to believe that Jamieson hadn’t considered she might not be disconnected from her AI without a headband. Surely he should have considered that she might be using the latest technology to replace the headbands. True, not many people had converted over yet, but surely he should have expected the CEO of the company that had invented HUD contacts, earports, and tooth mics would be using them. She followed directions, turning this way and that according to Jamieson’s demands.

Of course, Allan, communicating through her contacts and earports, kept her up to date as to her location as he picked it up off the GPS antenna in her neck. Jamieson had her looping all around through nearby counties, getting in and out of traffic and reversing directions. Not wanting the FBI to do something rash, Ell did not have Allan share her location with agent Calder. As the hours wore on, Ell began to pity her security team members who were following on hoverbikes ten thousand feet up.

Finally, Jamieson had told Ell to park here under the trees where she’d been waiting for about thirty minutes. At first, she’d been on tenterhooks waiting for something to happen, but now she’d gotten bored. She desperately wanted to ask Allan what was going on, but couldn’t really speak without Jamieson hearing it through the disposable headband. She wondered whether she could sub vocalize quietly enough that the mic ports on her teeth would pick it up but the AI headband wouldn’t. Eventually she decided that it wasn’t worth the chance that it would tip Jamieson off.

She felt relief when she saw a car pull off the road and stop right behind the Focus. Thank God, she thought, maybe something’s about to happen and I can move up their timeline. She didn’t want Zage to have to try to execute his stairwell plan.

As soon as the car had stopped rolling, a man she immediately recognized as Jamieson burst out of the car and ran up to her window. He swung something at the window. Ell instantly turned her head away before the tempered glass came bursting in at her as hundreds of small fragments. She turned back in time to see his left hand snake in the window and shoot her nearly point-blank with a Taser.

Her graphene underclothing not only kept the darts from puncturing her, but the graphene’s highly conductive properties shorted out the current from the Taser dart. She only felt some mild tingling from the discharge. However, having had plenty of experience with being Tasered, she immediately imitated the quivering spasticity of a Taser victim. Jamieson’s hand went back out, holstered the Taser, and returned with another gun. This one fired a dart with some punch at her thigh. Tranquilizer dart she thought. She didn’t feel the pinch of the needle, confirming that the graphene fabric had blocked its entrance.

Jamieson ripped open the door of the car, so Ell obligingly fell out the opening.

Jamieson roughly dragged her back to the passenger door of his vehicle, jerking it open and shoving her inside. He crouched over her for a minute, putting steel handcuffs on her ankles and wrists, then shot her with the Taser again.

Apparently doesn’t trust that the tranquilizer dart’s working yet, Ell thought.

Jamieson covered her with a big sheet of foil and started back around to the driver’s side. Evidently he didn’t trust her not to have brought some kind of GPS device with her and didn’t want to search her for it here at the side of the road. Besides, the foil would keep eyes from seeing a body in the passenger seat.

From the surging and bumping, Ell thought he’d spun the car around to head back the other direction. As she’d anticipated, Allan’s voice in her ear said, “We’ve lost your GPS signal, but the hoverbikes are following a vehicle that just went under those trees and is now leaving in the opposite direction.”

Ell sagged toward the driver’s side, using the collapse of her position to cover the movement of her hands as she folded her right index finger back between her wrists and stroked it over the chain of her manacles. Deciding that the car noise would cover her vocalizations, she whispered to Allan. Allan turned on the one way port in her finger so she could use it to cut the handcuff chain.

As she’d hoped, when she slumped even further toward Jamieson, he cursed and shoved her toward the passenger door.

Jamieson felt pretty good so far. It looked like his preemptive strikes with the Taser and trank dart had kept Donsaii from using her vaunted athleticism to attack him. On the one hand, he’d really wanted her to give it a shot. He’d been wanting to knock her around since he’d first applied for a job with the bitch ten years ago. On the other hand, no matter how hard he worked to convince himself that she’d just gotten lucky back then, he still remembered how impotent he’d felt at the end of his encounter with her. All in all, it was much better that his careful planning and aggressive attack had left her helplessly manacled and tranquilized.

He turned into a parking deck and drove up a level. Stopping next to the van, he got out and jerked Donsaii out of the car, tossing her brutally into the back of the van. Two sets of handcuffs were already set up, one end attached to bolts on the flooring. One cuff went around an ankle, the other around her elbow.

He started to cut off her clothing, but it was made out of some kind of tough fiber that his shears wouldn’t go through. Kevlar or something, he thought, figures. Doesn’t matter though, she’s in the box of the back of this van so she still couldn’t pick up a GPS signal even if she did have an antenna hidden in her clothes.

He would’ve enjoyed seeing her naked, and seeing the look in her eye when she woke up that way, but for now he settled for patting her down for a GPS unit. He didn’t find one, but even the pat-down was pretty enjoyable. He climbed into the front of the van, carefully pulling the foil between the front and back into place.

Driving out of the parking deck, he thought smugly that even if they’d somehow followed him this far with aerial surveillance, they were going to lose him because of the change of vehicles. The departure through one of three possible exits would make it even harder for them.

He headed for the house where they were holding the kid. Roger should have already fed the kid and have some pizza ready for Jamieson. They’d off the babysitter and head for the rendezvous he’d planned with Wang.

He’d never noticed that the chain between Ell’s wrist cuffs had already been cut…

***

Zage was standing on the box beside the stairs in the basement, bored out of his mind. He felt pretty hungry and thought the kidnappers should deliver food soon.

He had his wooden closet rod stuffed in the waistband of his pants. The cup of ammonia and the spray can of window cleaner were on the shelf next to him.

He’d been ready for nearly an hour and was really tired of just standing there!

Zage decided to get down and sit on the stool beside the box. He should have enough time to scramble back up on the box when he heard the deadbolts starting to turn. Just as he moved, though, he heard a vehicle drive up. The stairs must come up near the front door! he thought with some excitement. That’ll give me a lot better shot of getting outside where I can get a GPS signal. His excitement diminished when he considered the possibility that the car might be bringing more members of the kidnapping team. Having more of them in the house could make an escape even more difficult.

Then he faintly heard a knock on the door. The tread of boots was followed by the creak of the door opening. Voices spoke. Zage had Osprey amplify his hearing and with great relief, decided he was hearing somebody delivering pizza!

A few minutes later, the door groaned shut and the sound of the boots moved away from the door, but not toward the stairs. Nonetheless, Zage decided that they’d probably deliver the pizza downstairs soon. He decided to stay up on the box.

A few minutes later, he heard the boots coming back his way.

The bolts in the door started turning.

Zage plugged the two extension cords together to electrify the shopping cart.

He picked up the cup of ammonia in his left hand and the bottle of Windex in his right.

His heart had been pounding, but now it felt to him like it was slowing down. He’d felt this way when Amy’s car had been forced off the road and the man came in the door after him. But this seemed to be… much more powerful. The world seemed to be moving slower. The bolts were turning in slow motion.

Ell had been lying in the back of the van as it bumped along. In her ears, she heard Allan say, “Zage is about to spring his trap. Do you want the audio and/or video feed?”

“Put it in my left eye and ear,” Ell said, “I’ve got to start moving myself. She rolled a little and reached her right index finger to cut the “single-strand” section of her left handcuff. Then she sat up to cut her ankle cuffs…

Holding the pizza box with his right hand, Roger turned the doorknob with his left and pushed open the stair door down into the dim basement.

As he stepped forward, something splashed in his eyes. At first he felt puzzled…

Then it started to burn…

He dropped the pizza box and reached out to steady himself with the handrails. But something caught his foot—he started to fall. For a second he thought he’d be able to catch himself, but then lancing agony shot through his left hand…

When the stairway door had opened, bright light poured through the opening. Zage leaned around the corner to see the man and pizza box silhouetted in the light.

It seemed as if he had all day, as he swung the cup up, adjusting the trajectory a tiny bit so it sent the ammonia right into the man’s eyes.

The Windex won’t add much, he thought, dropping the spray bottle and pulling out his closet rod. The man’s left foot caught on the wire above the second riser and the guy started to fall forward. Zage saw him drop the pizza box and reach out for the handrails.

It looked as if the guy might catch himself, so Zage swung the closet rod at his left hand.

Hard!

Zage hadn’t been sure how hard he’d have to hit the man’s hand to keep him from grabbing the rail, so he swung as hard as he could. Maybe that was a little too hard, he thought when the back of the man’s knuckles burst open under the whistling impact of the one inch wooden dowel. The fingers flailed back uselessly and the hand slipped off the rail.

The man continued to fall.

As Zage scrambled off the box and onto the stairs, he focused on the man’s other hand which had a desperate grip on the right stair rail. It looked like it might keep him from falling

Zage swung the closet rod again.

Now the man’s broken right hand also slithered loose and he plunged down the stairs.

Zage’s last glance as he was about to exit the stairwell showed the man twitching, one arm on the shopping cart. Worried that the man might die if the current continued to go through him, Zage paused, reached unerringly back around the door and jerked the extension cords apart.

Out on the landing, Zage saw a door ahead and to the left that looked like it probably went outside. As he ran for it, he looked back and to his left, into the house, to see if any other kidnappers were coming after him.

No one yet.

He turned the knob on the door and pulled—the door didn’t open!

Then he heard his mother’s voice in his ear, “Zage, you’re in an old house and that’s a simple mechanical door lock. There’s no AI. Turn that flat thing above the doorknob to your right.”

Feeling greatly relieved to have help, Zage said, “Thanks Mom!” as he reached up and twisted the thumb knob. Though he’d expected it, the door still didn’t come open.

His mother’s voice said, “Now turn the knob.”

Zage did, and the door came open. He shot out the door and ran toward the trees.

Steve’s voice said, “We’ve got a GPS signal! Zage, keep going into the trees! We’ll be there in… ten minutes!”

Zage’s mother said, “Zage, Steve’s people are going to take care of you for a few minutes. I’ve got to deal with a different problem, then I’ll be there too.”

Jamieson was negotiating as he drove. “Wang, you need to be at that location with the rest of my money. I’ll contact you there and tell you…” Something flickered in the corner of his eye. He spared a glance from the road and turned toward it. To his surprise the foil was lifting up. At first he thought it was some kind of wind lifting it, but as he kept speaking, “where to meet me…” Donsaii’s head appeared.

She was smiling, but the smile didn’t look friendly.

The lights went out…

Wang wondered what had happened. There’d been a meaty thud; then Jamieson stopped speaking. Before he essayed to say, “What did you say?” he heard a woman’s voice, apparently coming from Jamieson’s AI. She said calmly, “Hello Mr. Wang. Unfortunately, Mr. Jamieson was just injured while carrying out your operation. We’ll still be able to provide your goods though. Where would you like them delivered?”

Wang’s mind raced. What happened?! he wondered. He hadn’t liked Jamieson, but still felt shocked that the man had just been injured severely enough that his second-in-command was having to complete the mission. If he got hurt that badly, would his team really be able to deliver Donsaii and her son? Nonetheless, having already spent four million dollars with nothing to show for it so far, Wang felt very anxious to close the deal. His superiors would not be pleased if he’d spent the four million for nothing! “You have both of them?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“And they’re in your complete control? Bound and tranquilized?”

“Yup, well, not the kid. He’s not a problem.”

Wang thought about asking whether the terms were still the same, but thought that might just invite them to jack up the price. Instead he said, “Okay, I’ll continue to honor the agreement I had with Jamieson. Deliver them to slip fifteen at the Port City Marina in Wilmington North Carolina in three hours.” Wang’s men wouldn’t be at slip fifteen, they’d be at fourteen, just across from it, but they’d see Jamieson’s people coming. “No more than two people for the delivery.” He hoped that this woman didn’t start heaping restrictions on Wang for the meeting like Jamieson had been. Maybe we can get Donsaii and her kid without even paying the other four million, he thought.

“Okay. The delivery guy will be wearing a light shirt and dark pants. How will we recognize you?”

“Challenge and response. We’ll call, ‘Jerry,’ your response will be, ‘can.’”

“No problem, see you in three hours. Don’t forget our money.”

“Okay.”

Agent Calder was seething. Donsaii sounded like she was negotiating to take these people down herself! The woman was out of control! Calder’s team had tried to follow Donsaii when she’d gone out per the kidnapper’s demand, but had promptly lost her despite the video feed from Donsaii’s AI.

Calder had repeatedly asked Donsaii for a GPS location, but the woman hadn’t responded. While she was parked there waiting for this Jamieson guy to show up, they’d just about located Donsaii by carefully going over the video record of her drive. But then Jamieson had arrived, broken the window, Tased Donsaii, and shot her with the tranquilizer dart!

Cursing her team frantically, Calder had exhorted them to find Donsaii before they lost her for good. She’d been feeling sick to her stomach over what was going to happen when the people upstream from her found out she’d lost one of the most famous people in the world to kidnappers—right under her nose!

Then, despite being drugged, manacled, and then handcuffed to floor bolts in the back of that damned van, Donsaii had suddenly gotten loose. She climbed into the front of the van, punched Jamieson’s lights out, despite the fact that he was driving the van on manual. She, apparently effortlessly, brought the vehicle to a stop at the side of the road. She uncomfortably bound Jamieson’s ankles, up between his wrists, to the wheel of his own vehicle with plasticuffs. Strangely, she gripped Jamieson’s head for a second before she got out of the passenger door, sent Calder the GPS location of the van and disappeared.

Calder suspected that Donsaii must already know where her son was or she’d have stayed there trying to get the information out of Jamieson. How the hell did I lose all control of this damned investigation?!

While Calder was on her way to the location of the van, Donsaii’s voice finally came in her ear, “Thank you for your patience Agent Calder. I’ve got my son and Ms. Reston and will be returning home now. I’m assuming that you and your team will be able to deal with Mr. Jamieson, as well as Mr. Wang and his associates down at the Marina?”

Calder wanted to explode, but restrained herself. If she got those guys she could come out of this smelling like a rose. No need to piss Donsaii off and have her point out that she’d essentially rescued herself… somehow. Heavily, she said, “Yes Ma’am. What about the other members of Jamieson’s team?”

“Only one of them appears to have been at the house where my son and Ms. Reston were being held, so I guess you’ll need to work on Jamieson to find the rest of them. The guy at the house has been injured in a fall down the stairs into the basement where they were holding their captives. You might want to bring an ambulance when you pick him up. My AI’s providing yours with the GPS address.”

“We’ll need the audio-video records from your son and Ms. Reston ASAP!”

“Um, sure, we’ll get those to you.”

***

Zage ran pell-mell into the woods. He wanted to keep running, but just like in the past when he’d tried to run a long way, he soon found himself desperately tired. As he slowed against his will, Steve’s voice came in his ear, “Zage, I think you’ve gone far enough. At this point you should hide because, if they are following you, they’ll be able to run faster than you and they’ll follow the noise you’re making.”

“Okay,” Zage gasped. “Where?” He swiveled his head so that whoever was watching the video from his AI would be able to help him choose a location.

Steve said, “Over to your right there. Climb over that big fallen tree and huddle against the other side. We’ll be there in just another few minutes.”

Zage trotted over to the big tree and scrambled over it. He hid in a little recess on the other side and waited for his breathing to calm. His heartbeat, which had been thunderously slow, seemed to come up to a normal speed as the world appeared to slow down around him. As the world normalized, he started feeling really tired. He also felt guilty about Amy, “Steve, shouldn’t I go back and try to help Amy get away?”

“No! No, you’re the one they really want, so the best thing you can do for Amy is stay out of their hands so they have to chase you. We have other people who’ll help Amy about the same time I’m picking you up.”

Zage heard a loud snap overhead. Panicked, he looked up and saw a tree limb falling. Once he realized it wasn’t going to land on him, he glanced upward again and realized someone in dark clothing was slowly descending through the upper stories of the tree canopy. He must have broken that limb, but how come he’s falling so slowly?! Is this one of the kidnappers come for me?!

The man drifted down and landed about ten feet from Zage. He said, “Hi Zage, you ready to get out of here?”

Zage stared, the voice was Steve’s! “How are… How are you flying?!”

Steve said, “Oh, I’m not. I’m wearing a harness that suspends me. It feels a little bit like flying though. My plan is to put you in your own harness, clip you on, and then we’ll both fly out of here, is that okay?”

Zage had been a little bit worried that this person might just be another one of the kidnappers. The fact that the voice sounded like Steve had reassured him some, but the fact that he was asking, rather than demanding that Zage do something made him feel even safer. “Sure.” Zage stepped forward. As Zage approached, he realized Steve was a big man.

Steve knelt and shook out a small harness. He helped Zage get into it and clip it together, then he attached it to his own harness.

Zage had been looking up in the air, “What’s holding up your harness? I don’t see any ropes.”

Steve glanced up, “It’s a graphene cable. It’s small enough that you’d have a hard time seeing it even in better light… You ready? We’re about to go up.”

“Okay,” Zage said distractedly, wanting a better look at the graphene cable, something he’d read about but not seen. Steve lifted up behind him, then his own harness came tight and Zage lifted off just after Steve did. “Can we go back to the house they were keeping us in so we can get Amy?”

Steve said, “I don’t think we’d better do that. Amy isn’t there anymore, but the police are about to arrive and arrest the man who held you captive. Remember, he got hurt pretty bad falling down the stairs. I don’t think we want the police asking you questions.”

“Oh,” Zage said with trepidation. “Am I going to be in trouble because that guy got hurt?” And, because I’m the one that hurt him? Zage thought.

“No!” More calmly, Steve said, “Kidnapping — what those men did to you—is considered a really terrible crime. In the long run, you won’t be in trouble for doing whatever you could to escape. However, in the short run, they might ask you a lot of questions while they’re trying to figure it all out. Don’t worry about that… The only thing is…” In a non sequitur, Steve said, “Do you know that you can do things a lot faster than other people? That you’re really quick?”

“You mean… how I can catch balls better because I can move my hand faster than other kids?”

“Not just kids. You’re faster than any grown-up. Especially when you’re scared.”

Uncomfortably, Zage said, “Oh… I guess I’ve kinda noticed… a little bit.” He swallowed, “You mean like when I hit that guy’s knuckles with the closet rod?”

“Yeah,” Steve snorted as if amused, “like that.” Though Zage couldn’t know it, Steve still felt astonished by the damage Zage had done to the man’s hand when he’d hit him. “Your mom would really like it if no one found out about how you can… do that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Zage said, as if he understood, though he didn’t really. Zage had been so focused on the conversation that he’d kind of missed the fact that he was flying through the air—which was really cool. He let his mind drift away from the unnerving conversation he’d been having and focus on how breathtaking it was to sail along above the lights of the town. He glanced up, “How come I can’t see or hear the copter that’s lifting us?” he asked suspiciously.

Because he was gazing upward, Zage could see Steve look up as well. Steve said, “It’s way up at ten thousand feet. It isn’t very big and it’s not very noisy, so we just can’t see or hear it from down here.”

Suspicious, Zage said, “It wouldn’t be able to control where you were going from that far up.”

“Yeah, I control position with ported air jets on my harness.” To demonstrate, he fired a jet on his right side which swung them gently to the left.

Zage could tell they were descending. A little to the right of where they were heading he saw red and blue flashing lights, “Where are we going?”

“Back to your house. We’ll land in the backyard.”

“What are all those flashing lights?”

“The police are there at your house because of the kidnapping.” After a brief pause, Steve said, “Don’t worry, they’re there for your protection, not because they’re looking for you or anything.”

Zage had a lot more questions, but right then they came down over some trees and settled down in the back yard behind his house. Steve undid the straps and buckles, then, as the harness shot back up into the sky, Steve took Zage’s hand and said, “Shall we go in to your house? Your dad’s waiting for you.”

Suddenly, Zage really wanted to see his mom and dad. Surging ahead, though not letting go of Steve’s hand, he said, “Yes! Come on!”

Steve stayed with him until they were up the back steps and Zage’s dad opened the door. Finally letting go of Steve’s hand, Zage bolted forward into his father’s arms. “Dad!” he cried, looking around for his mother.

Shan said, “It’s so good to have you back! Mom’s on her way.”

Zage hugged his dad as hard as he could and got a warm squeeze in return.

His dad gave a little chuckle, “Aren’t you worried that you’re squeezing hard enough to pop my head right off my shoulders?”

Zage relaxed his grip; then as he turned to look back over his shoulder, he said, “Do you know Steve? He picked me up and we flew back!” To his dismay, there was nobody back there. Zage turned back to his dad, “He was right behind me!”

Shan said, “Yeah, I know Steve. He’s been… a friend of your mom’s for a really long time.”

Zage turned to look questioningly at his father, “Why’d he leave?!”

“Um, he’s probably got other things to do now that he got you back here safely, don’t you think?”

Zage frowned, “Does he work for the police?”

“No, um…” Shan trailed off.

“Who then?” Zage said, turning to look back over his shoulder and out into the backyard. His eyes arrested on another person dropping down out of the air to land back by the trees. A harness flew loose and shot back up into the air; then the person started jogging toward the house. After a few steps, he could tell it was his mother by the way she moved. Zage turned toward the door, yelling, “Mom!”

She loped out of the shadows as Zage threw the door open and yelled, “Mom!” again. He stopped, eyes goggling as she took the last few steps and knelt to throw her arms around him. Her hair was strawberry blond! Her skin was pale!

At the same moment that, in his mother’s voice, she said, “Zage!” he said, “Dr. Donsaii?!”

She winced and her hand came up to touch her hair. Then in a different voice—Ell Donsaii’s voice—she said, “Zage Kinrais?” In a tone implying that she wasn’t sure who he was.

Zage’s brain flip-flopped back and forth a couple of times as he came to grips with the evidence before his eyes. Then he said, “You’re my mom?!” He turned to look big-eyed at his dad over his shoulder, “Mom’s Ell Donsaii?!”

Zage had posed the question to Shan, but Shan was looking questioningly at Ell.

Ell gritted her teeth in frustration. How could she have been so stupid as to forget she was done up as Ell when she came to see her son! Sure, the past hours had been stressful and she was excited to see Zage, but she’d been doing these identity switches so often, for so long, that they’d become second nature. She hadn’t made a mistake like this in years, how could she have done it with her own son?

Looks like the jig is up, she decided. Besides, Zage certainly seems smart and mature enough to handle the knowledge and keep the secret. She hugged Zage and ruffled his hair, “Yeah kiddo, we’ve been keeping it a secret, but I guess you’re old enough to know now.”

Zage turned to stare at her, “But… I’ve wanted to meet you for so long…!” he said wistfully.

Ell looked at him wistfully. “You already had, kid,” she said. Her voice breaking, she repeated, “You already had…”

“But…” Zage said plaintively, his eyes darting around her face, “How…” He turned to look accusingly back at his dad, “Did you know about this?!”

Eyes twinkling, Shan nodded, as if trying to look solemn, but he’d caught his lips between his teeth to keep a big smile from breaking through.

As if his strings had been cut, Zage suddenly sat down breathlessly on the floor. He looked back up at his dad and said, “I looked up ‘rock stars’ when you said that I wanted to meet Ell Donsaii like she was a rock star. Did you mean like a famous musician?”

Shan nodded again.

“And some people really want to meet famous musicians?”

Shan nodded and said seriously, “They really do.”

Zage turned his head back to his mother, “I guess that is the way I’ve felt about Ell Donsaii. It’s pretty hard to believe that I’ve been living with her all along.” He frowned, “Wait a minute… Is that why we live right behind her house? Do you sneak through the woods to her house so you can leave from there when you’re going to work as Ell Donsaii?”

“Actually, there’s a tunnel from here to Ell’s house.”

Zage’s eyes widened, “A tunnel!” He looked back and forth from his father to his mother, then frowned, “How many secrets do you guys have?!”

Ell shrugged, “A lot, unfortunately.”

“Why?!”

Ell tilted her head curiously at her son, “What just happened to you?”

As comprehension dawned, Zage looked like a light had just come on. “Oh… You’ve been trying to keep people from knowing where we really live so they won’t try to kidnap us?”

Ell nodded, “And, trying to keep them from knowing you even exist…” She turned to Shan, “Can you start explaining some of this stuff to Zage? I’ve got to try to deal with the FBI and the police.”

Shan nodded.

Ell left the room muttering to her AI while Zage and Shan got out food for sandwiches. While they were doing it, Shan started explaining to Zage how many times Ell had been kidnapped and why they’d decided to keep Zage’s existence a secret. He explained about the tunnels and about the period of time when Ell had been on the lam from the government, trying to answer all of Zage’s questions as honestly as possible.

“But, I don’t understand… Well, I do understand the wig and the skin coloring, but Mom’s face is different from Dr. Donsaii’s!”

“Yeah, that’s probably a big part of the reason so few people catch on. Here, watch this,” Shan said. He mumbled briefly to his AI, then his face changed right in front of Zage’s eyes.

Astonished, Zage drew back, “What! What just happened?!”

Shan explained about the small graphene balloons that were glued to their teeth to change the shape of their cheeks. “Your mom has a way to put things under the skin without incisions. So, I have some small graphene balloons under the skin behind my ears. When they’re inflated, they push my ears out and forward.” He mumbled to his AI again, and his ears settled back into their normal location. “Your mom used to put a little silicon bump on the surface of her nose and cover it with makeup, but a while back she put a balloon underneath the skin of her nose that she blows up so she has a little hump on her nose when she wants to be Raquel.”

Zage frowned, “And that doesn’t hurt?”

Shan snorted, “Yeah, it hurts. It hurts quite a bit when the balloon’s put in and it’s a little uncomfortable each time you inflate it, but it’s not awful.”

Chapter Eleven

Trying to keep her mind off of what might be about to happen, Calder thought about the rest of the operation as the box she was riding in bumped along the surface of the dock. They actually had her in a cheap cardboard coffin on a hand truck. The second agent was maneuvering a hand truck with a child’s cardboard coffin on it. That one only had sandbags in it to give it weight. The lid on Calder’s coffin was only secured with Velcro, so if it sounded like there was a confrontation, she’d be able to push the lid off and enter the dispute. She had a few flash-bangs and her personal weapon with extra clips.

The ideal situation would be for Wang and his associates to open the lid of the coffin and find themselves staring into the bore of Calder’s weapon.

Having something turn out right would certainly be sweet. Donsaii had delivered the audio video record from her son and his nanny, but the one from her son cut off when the kidnapper hit him in the head during the capture. Donsaii claimed that the blow made the kid’s connection to his AI intermittent. Suspiciously, it cut out during any of the periods that Calder had really wanted to look at. Whether there was really a record or not, Calder was pretty sure that there wouldn’t be a record by the time she could subpoena the AIs. Besides, it could be notoriously difficult to enforce a subpoena on the records of a victim. So, if she didn’t capture this Wang character, she could still come out of this smelling pretty bad.

Wang peered out the curtain of the boat they’d moored at slip fourteen, watching the man trundling a long box along the dock. The man looked like he had on a white dress shirt and suit pants, not something Wang would have expected from an associate of Jamieson’s. However, he was followed by a similarly dressed man trundling a smaller box, presumably the kid and that was the dress Wang had been told to expect.

The two men stopped in front of slip fifteen and looked about. Wang cracked the window and whispered, “Jerry.”

The two men turned abruptly and looked towards Wang’s boat. After a moment, one of them said, “Can.”

Wang stuck a hand out the window and waved them closer, then he turned to Hao and Cho. In Chinese, he said, “Keep your weapons on them from inside the cabin here. Don’t let your muzzles show.” He waited for the two men to nod, then continued, “If in doubt, shoot. If I say ‘Kaiser,’ shoot.”

Wang stepped out of the cabin, leaving the door cracked open enough for his men to shoot through the gap. He said, “We appreciate the delivery. Can you help us load it on board?”

Surprisingly agreeable, the two men helped Wang and Chow move the big cardboard boxes onto Wang’s boat. “Where’s the woman I negotiated with?” Wang asked.

The bigger of the two men who delivered the boxes said, “You said only two people for the delivery, so she decided to send someone with a little more muscle. Where’s our money?”

Wang indicated the boxes stacked in the corner, “Four million, right there. You open and check that while I confirm your delivery,” he said leaning down and pulling the lid off the big coffin. He had to pull pretty hard because the lid was held on with Velcro.

There was indeed a woman inside.

She didn’t look like Ell Donsaii.

And she had a gun pointed at Wang’s face.

Wang slowly stood, lifting his hands and, without looking away from the woman, tried to take in the situation with his peripheral vision. The men weren’t even near the boxes of cash. One of them was heaving Chow overboard into the water. The other was hiding behind a stanchion and tossing something into the cracked door of the cabin. He slammed the door shut.

A flash and a loud bang came from inside the cabin.

The two men jerked open the door and stepped into the cabin.

The woman in the box said, “Mr. Wang, you’re under arrest…”

***

Unusually, when Zage came down to breakfast, his mom and dad were sitting with Amy at the table, though there wasn’t any food set out. He rushed to Amy, giving her a big hug. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks to you,” she said with a big smile, hugging him back and ruffling his hair.  She stood, “I guess I’d better be going.”

“Aren’t you taking me to school?” he asked.

“Your parents have other plans,” she said mysteriously, heading for the door.

Zage turned to his parents. “What’s going on?” he asked.

His dad said, “We thought—after what happened yesterday—we ought to take the day together as a family.”

“But… it’s a Tuesday,” Zage said, feeling surprised.

“So,” Shan shrugged unconcernedly, “we’ll play hooky.”

“Hooky?” Zage asked, then waved off the answer as Osprey put the definition up on his HUD. He gave them an eager look, “you’re going to let me stay home from school?!”

His mom, now looking like Raquel again, said, “Yeah. Like that day we went out for breakfast to celebrate the Nobel Prize in Chemistry, but the whole day instead of just the first hour. We figure that we need to explain to you why it’s important that you keep your identity secret. We ought to show you the tunnels and how to go places in them… You know, in case you need to escape or something someday in the future. Hopefully nothing like this is ever going to happen again, but if it does…” his mother shrugged helplessly, “You’re old enough to help protect yourself, as you so eloquently proved yesterday.”

His parents took Zage downstairs where twisting a bent nail behind a can of paint on one of the shelves let a wall swing open. Beyond the wall, Zage was astonished to see an enormous scientific laboratory.

Zage had been aware of a tiny little laboratory in the basement, because his mother often spent time down there. However, it turned out that she never actually did anything in the little lab he knew about. Any time he started down the stairs, she’d always come out of the main lab and into the little lab before he got down close enough to see her.

To Zage’s intense disappointment all the equipment in the big lab was oriented towards physics. For a moment, when he’d first stepped in there, he’d felt sure that some of the equipment must be stuff he could use for some of his biologic research. In truth, he supposed some of it actually could be. There were some centrifuges and microscopes after all, but nothing that would let him manipulate DNA or amino acids. He wouldn’t be able to culture cells, much less do anything with animals like he was doing through Dr. Turner’s lab.

They took the tunnel over and poked around “Ell Donsaii’s” house. Zage met Bridget, who lived there as Ell’s “roommate.” Bridget had stayed home from work just to meet Zage, and apparently to cook omelets for Zage’s parents, something Ell claimed Bridget was famous for. She’d made pancakes for Zage.

They took the tunnels over to the little neighborhood west of Ell’s farm where Zage met Steve again as well as the rest of Ell’s security team. The men and women in the team seemed vaguely familiar, which apparently was because they hadn’t hidden from him when he was really little.

They took the electric car in the main tunnel over to see the place where it came up underneath D5R, but didn’t actually go up into the entrance the tunnel made into the closet in Ell’s office. Then they took the car down to a house in Pittsboro. Zage vaguely remembered that house as well.

On the way back to their current house from Pittsboro, Zage said, “Mom?”

She’d been thinking of something else, so Ell distractedly said, “Umhmm?”

“Remember how when they first kidnapped to me, I wondered why they didn’t take a kid from a really rich family?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m thinking that the kidnappers did kidnap me because you guys actually are pretty rich?”

“Uh,” Ell said, uncomfortable about the question. However she’d decided, as much as possible, to answer Zage truthfully, “That’s true.” She hoped he wasn’t going to ask just how wealthy they were.

“Could you buy me a DNA sequencer… and some other stuff? Or does all that lab equipment in the basement really belong to D5R and you just have it on loan?”

Ell snorted, “Yes, we can buy you a DNA sequencer and some other stuff.”

Worriedly, he said, “They’re pretty expensive.”

“We can buy them… But, you’re gonna have to tell us what you’re doing with them.”

“I really think it would be good if you enrolled me at the University. That way I could be learning more at my own level and… hopefully I’ll have some supervision to keep me out of trouble…”

Ell barked a laugh and looked at Shan with chagrin on her face, “That kidnapping’s created a monster! Will the demands never end?”

***

Ms. Binder looked out at the kids in her classroom. Zage was back and she had mixed feelings about it. She felt relieved, of course, that his illness hadn’t been serious. A little frustration always washed over her when she looked at him, because she didn’t feel like she’d ever taught him anything. She felt a little guilty about her relief that the boy was back, because having Zage in the classroom made it easier to deal with the rest of the kids. Sometimes she thought he was a better teacher’s aide than Jordan Burke, her official aide. He explained things to the other kids—so well that they frequently asked Zage rather than her or Jordan. He organized games on the playground that the kids liked, weren’t dangerous, and somehow left all the kids happy with the outcome rather than having winners and losers.

When she got to his chair, she stopped, “Are you feeling better now Zage?”

She got the impression he looked a little bit startled by the question, but then he nodded, “Yes, much better, thank you.”

“What were you sick with?” Binder didn’t feel like she was prying. She actually needed to know what it was in case some of the other kids started showing symptoms.

“Oh, I just had a really bad headache.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re better,” Binder said as she moved on. A headache didn’t sound contagious, unless it was meningitis or something terrible like that. On the other hand, a headache shouldn’t keep a kid out of school for two days—unless it was something really terrible, should it? She stopped and went back, “What kind of headache was it, that it lasted two days?”

“I, ah, got hit on the head. I was better pretty quick, my parents just wanted to keep an eye on me to make sure there weren’t any… problems.”

“Oh,” Ms. Binder said, wondering how a five-year-old had come to be hit on the head. She decided not to quiz him about it, but to be on the lookout for any further incidents. After all, child abuse could rear its ugly head in families of all social strata. “I’m sorry to hear that. Glad you’re okay.”

***

Jamieson sat sullenly while his court appointed lawyer arranged a few screens to her liking and sat down across the table from him. Finally she looked up at him. Jamieson had been thinking that it would work in his favor to have a woman defending him in a child kidnapping case, but now he realized it might not if the woman despised him for what he’d done. She said, “Okay, the prosecutor’s case looks pretty much open and shut. The audio and video record from Ms. Reston’s AI, as well as from the boy’s AI, show you dragging them out of Ms. Reston’s car.”

“We were wearing masks!” Jamieson exclaimed before he realized he was blowing his opportunity to claim innocence before even his own defense attorney.

The attorney’s expression showed her distaste. She said, “On the audio, the voices sound very much like yours. Besides, you and Mr. Aycock were captured wearing the same kinds of coveralls and masks that you were wearing at the scene of the kidnapping.”

Roger’s last name is Aycock? Jamieson thought, I wonder what his first name really is.

The attorney was continuing, “Aycock was arrested in the house where the captives were being held, and you were found handcuffed to the wheel in the vehicle that had transported Dr. Donsaii.” She threw her hands up, “It’s going to be pretty pointless to try to claim that you didn’t do it. Do you have any extenuating circumstances? Someone you might give up in a plea bargain?”

Sourly, Jamieson said, “I could turn state’s evidence against Wang. He’s the guy that hired me to do this…” Suddenly he had an idea, “Maybe we could get Donsaii to drop charges. We could threaten her with telling the world that…” Jamieson’s eyes widened as Donsaii spoke in his right ear.

Ell’s AI had been listening to Jamieson through the portal she’d implanted in his skull behind his ear. Right after she’d knocked him out when she’d been breaking free, she’d gripped his head and used the one way port in her finger to cut a little hole in the bone of the mastoid process and pop a port into it. When Allan told Ell what was going on, she’d simply spoken to Allan, having him send her voice into the portal she’d implanted where he heard it through direct bone transmission. “Mr. Jamieson, you don’t want to tell anybody anything about me, or the boy, or Ms. Reston.”

Jamieson twisted wildly in his chair. He wasn’t wearing an AI, or headphones, and there certainly wasn’t anyone else in the room with him. Wondering if he’d just had a hallucination, Jamieson said, “We could tell…”

Jamieson heard Donsaii in his ear again, “Mr. Jamieson, surely by now you realize that I know exactly what you’re doing at all times? No one would have even blinked if I’d just killed you when I was escaping. You could still die.”

Jamieson’s head whirled again, but he could see no way for Donsaii to be speaking to him. He rubbed his ear, sticking his finger in it to check for hidden earbuds.

His attorney said, “We could tell who… what?”

Am I goin’ crazy? Jamieson wondered, but he only said, “Nothin’. We can turn state’s evidence against Wang. I think he works for China.”

Steve looked at Ell through narrowed eyes. They’d been meeting to talk about the bigger security team when Allan had interrupted to tell Ell what Jamieson was doing. “You’re talking to Jamieson?”

She nodded.

“How?”

Ell explained about the port she’d installed in Jamieson’s skull.

Steve grimaced, “Installing something in someone’s body without their permission, even if they’re a criminal…” he trailed off with a shake of his head.

“I know,” Ell said distractedly. “Just one of the many reasons I don’t want anyone else to have some of this technology. Too much temptation to use it for…” she trailed off, but then shrugged and continued, “To use it like I just did.” She sighed, “Lots of times I wish I didn’t know how to do it either.” She shrugged, “Of course, then we wouldn’t be able to reach the stars…”

Frowning Steve said, “Could you really kill him still?”

“Sure. Toxin through the port.”

“Well, no matter how loathsome I find that guy, I’d advise you not to kill him now. ‘Premeditated’ and all that. They probably couldn’t catch you, but if they did…”

“Yeah, no, I won’t be killing him. I’m just hoping a little threat might keep him from destroying any chance we have of retaining the Kinrais’ anonymity.”

***

Vanessa looked up when the lab door opened. Zage is back! She thought, feeling a little relieved. “Where have you been?! Missing Monday and Tuesday… plus the weekend! That’s not like you.”

“Sick. I got hurt, but not seriously. I’m okay now,” Zage said quickly, putting his stuff down.

Vanessa got the impression from the way he’d spit it out that he didn’t really want to talk about it.

This was confirmed when he continued, “How’d your experiment go?”

From the way Zage was fidgeting, Vanessa felt pretty sure he wanted to look at his own results rather than hearing about hers, but she briefly updated him on what she’d found with their latest experiment on changes in the gut flora with diet. Knowing he wanted to move on, she asked, “Did you look at what’s been happening with your rats’ weights yet?”

“Um, yeah. About half of them have lost weight, but, of course, I don’t really know if they’re the ones getting the peptide.”

Vanessa grinned at him, “What do you think?”

He gave her a sly grin in return, “Well, since rats usually gain weight unless they’re sick, I think it’s the peptide. But I’d like to go see if they look like they might be sick instead.”

Vanessa gave him a sly smile, “And are you hoping someone might take you down there?” The animal care people had objected to a child being down in their facilities without supervision, especially since he wasn’t an official University student. Therefore, Zage wasn’t supposed to go down to look at his rats without Vanessa or Dr. Turner to accompany him.

Zage nodded solemnly, “It’s kind of mean of you to make me beg, you know?”

She snorted as she got up, “You shouldn’t call people ‘mean’ when you’re asking them for a favor… you know?”

When they got down to the animal care facility, Zage’s rats all looked healthy. Some of them though… looked sleeker. In fact, though they still looked big, the sleek ones looked more like normal rats than the big fat ones in the adjoining cages. Damn! Vanessa thought, This kid might actually have done it.

Epilogue

Carol spoke to her AI, “Connect me to Phil… Phil, have you badgered those people into letting you come back to Mars yet?”

There was a moment’s pause for Phil to accept the call, then the screen in front of her lit up with his image. He said, “Hey Carol, no such luck yet. You needin’ the thrill… the thrill of Phil?”

Carol snorted, “You, my man, are gonna be in peril. In peril, of Carol!”

“Well, your prayers are getting closer to being answered. As near as they can tell from their tests yesterday, I’m no longer any stupider than I was before I went through the port. It might not be too much longer before I convince them that, since I’ve taken all these tests to give them a baseline, that I’m the prime candidate to be sent through the port again, then re-evaluated. Besides,” he grinned, “I’ve convinced them that your emotional well-being requires my presence.”

Carol frowned, ignoring his statement about her well-being. “So, have they decided that it really did affect your intelligence, at least for a while?”

Phil sighed, “Yeah, they really can’t tell how my mental function compares to what it was before I went through the port because they just didn’t have good enough data from before the transfer. However, I do test a little bit smarter now than right after I was ported. They think that means that my smarts were knocked down for a while.” He winked, “I’m trying to convince them that going through the port actually boosted my intelligence, it just took a while.” He shrugged, “Not that they seem to be buying it.”

Uncertainly, Carol said, “Maybe we shouldn’t push it then.”

“Not you too?!”

Carol gave him a mischievous look, “It’s not like you had any brain cells to spare, you know?”

Phil put his hand on his chest and gave her his most wounded look, “E tu brute!” he said, pronouncing it “brute” like a savage, rather than “Brute” like Caesar’s friend. After a moment’s pause, he said seriously, “I want to get back out to Mars, so if they’ll let me, I’m going to be back out there to rub your back again.” He shrugged unhappily, “However, if they won’t let me, there won’t be a whole lot you or I can do about it.”

Still looking very thoughtful, Carol said, “I guess…” Then she brightened, “Hey, we’ve got the latest results from the dome. The cyanobacteria are really cranking out the oxygen now. Lindy thinks they’ve mutated to generate a strain that tolerates the really high CO2 better than the original ones the dome was populated with. It’s starting to look really promising.”

Phil said, “I’ve been doing some calculations. Rather than trying to create an atmosphere for the entire planet, I’m thinking we should start by just doming over the Valles Marineris.”

Carol tilted her head curiously, “What?”

“I’m picturing that we cover that huge valley with a graphene sheet that holds the new atmosphere inside of it instead of letting the air escape to the rest of the planet. The Valles has an area of about a quarter of a million square miles, close to the size of Texas. That’s huge, but it’s still only about an eighth of a percent of the size of all of Mars.” At Carol’s stunned look, he said, “I know… The dome’s going to leak, but the leaks will just be a start on the terraforming of the rest of Mars. Meanwhile, we can make sure things are actually going to work on that little piece of Mars.” He shrugged, “Kind of like a bigger version of Lindy’s current test dome.”

Carol said, “And we’d have a place where we could live now, while we’re waiting for the rest of Mars to have an atmosphere.”

Phil lifted an eyebrow, “Yeah, and we’d want the graphene cover over the Valles to have several layers as insurance against punctures. Once we had some air pressure underneath it, we could start filling the space between the layers with some water. The air pressure would hold it up, even against the weight of the water. And the water would protect us from radiation. Even a meter of water would result in a huge reduction in solar particles.”

“Oh! Phil, I think going through a port must have increased your IQ, just like you were saying…”

***

Zage stood with his dad and Amy in the big reception area full of men in tuxedos and women in exotic gowns. Even the circulating wait-staff were dressed in formal clothing. Dr. Pace and his pretty wife Viveka from Allosci were talking quietly to Zage’s dad. Zage was listening to their conversation with one ear.

Though he hadn’t seen her, Zage’s mom was supposed to be coming as Ell Donsaii which seemed so weird to him. Since that night that he’d learned who his mother really was, he hadn’t seen her as Ell Donsaii again. And, in public, like here at the Nobel Prize reception, he was supposed to pretend that he didn’t actually know her, which was… so bizarre. He understood why, but it still felt unreal.

Zage could feel people’s eyes on him. His dad had had to be fairly forceful when requesting permission for Zage to attend. Most Nobel Prize recipients were old enough that they didn’t have children Zage’s age. The people in charge of the function were not happy about having a five year old child at their elegant event. Despite Zage’s tuxedo and calm behavior, the guests eyed him uncomfortably as if they expected him to burst into a tantrum at any moment.

Amy had stopped a pretty blonde woman carrying a tray of appetizers and asked her to bend down and show them to Zage. The woman was explaining the different treats on her tray to Zage and he was trying to dredge up the willpower to avoid taking one.

He realized that a silence had fallen over the room.

Zage looked around, thinking that perhaps the king of Sweden had arrived at the reception. All eyes in the room had turned in one direction, so it was easy for him to determine that they were focused on the entrance. In the opening, Zage saw a breathtakingly-beautiful, slender, strawberry-blond woman in a long-sleeved, simple black gown with scarlet edging at the neck, cuffs, and hem. A narrow scarlet belt and a simple necklace with a brilliant ruby pendant were her only adornments.

Yet all the other guests looked tawdry by comparison.

Stunned by his own mother’s beauty, Zage looked up to see if his father had noticed his mother entering the room. Shan was staring with the rest and his throat worked a little. His father’s hand slipped on to Zage’s shoulder. To Zage’s surprise, he saw that Viveka, and Dr. Pace’s eyes both trembled with unshed tears.

Somewhere in the room, someone began to clap.

Moments later, the room was filled with thunderous applause, not just for the first person to hold four Nobel Prizes, but also for the person who’d saved their world and themselves.

***

Reggie Barnes walked into D5R and the receptionist waved her on toward the huge room where a lot of the physics research was done. As she headed down toward the left end of the large space, she saw Ell Donsaii coming toward her accompanied by a tall man with unruly hair.

Once Donsaii had given her an enthusiastic greeting and introduced her to Roger Emmerit, they made their way again to one of the small conference rooms. As soon as they stepped inside Donsaii asked, “You’ve inserted that DNA sequence in some cells?” Reggie nodded, “Yes, though markedly different, that sequence had some similarities to some of the error correction proteins in Earth species. It only coded for a single protein so it seemed unlikely that it carried any great risks, still we synthesized and inserted it in the Level 4 lab as you requested.”

“What kind of cells?” Emmerit asked.

“Yeast, they’re eukaryotic like our cells but divide rapidly so radiation induced mutations become evident pretty quickly.”

“Have you been able to evaluate mutation rates yet?” Donsaii asked eagerly.

Reggie gave another nod, wondering if they had any idea just how much time she’d been investing in this project. “It’s freaking amazing… I think, though I certainly can’t be sure at this point, that it’s able to repair even double-strand breaks almost perfectly every time. With current Earth species, single strand breaks are readily repaired by copying the intact strand back onto the broken strand. But in Earth organisms double-strand breaks are usually repaired by just patching the two ends back together, often with missing nucleotides which results in mutation of the gene that stretch of DNA coded. What I suspect the Virgies’ protein is doing is somehow finding some of the RNA generated from that segment of damaged DNA and using the RNA as a template for repair.” She shook her head, “If you’d asked me a month ago, I would have said that wasn’t possible!”

“So,” Roger asked, “would this protein enable repair of the kinds of radiation damage we’d expect to encounter on Mars?”

“No doubt. Radiation levels there are about 50 times what they are here, but the Virgies’ DNA repair system might be as much as 100 times better than ours.”

Ell and Roger gave each other a high five, “That’s awesome, we’re going to Mars!”

“Mars would be cool,” Reggie said, “but I think a lot bigger deal than radiation protection is the fact that this would keep people from getting cancer. A lot of cancers are due to transcription errors.” Reggie shrugged, “However it’s a little early to get too excited about it. We’d have to get the DNA for this protein into every cell in your body before it could protect them all from radiation. We don’t know how to do that.”

Ell raised an eyebrow, “But the Virgies do…”

***

A few days after Christmas, Zage went up to his room and wiped the top of the vial with alcohol. He punctured its rubber stopper with the tiny needle on the insulin syringe and drew up a tenth of a milliliter of his peptide solution.

He used the alcohol swab to wipe a small spot on his stomach, then picked up the syringe with a sigh. For a moment he wondered if he could actually do it, then he reminded himself just how badly he hated being overweight. Calling to mind the sleek, slender rats in his treatment group, Zage gritted his teeth, stuck the tiny needle into his skin and depressed the plunger.

He blinked, it hadn’t hurt nearly as much as he’d expected.

Well, it was a tiny dose. Perhaps when he had to inject more—assuming that this tiny dose didn’t cause a problem—it might hurt more.

But, mostly he’d been worried about the needle puncturing his skin, and he’d hardly felt that.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d feared.

As long as his mother didn’t find out what he was doing…

The End

Hope you liked the book!

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Author’s Afterword

This is a comment on the “science” in this science fiction novel. I’ve always been partial to science fiction that posed a “what if” question. Not everything in the story has to be scientifically plausible, but you suspend your disbelief regarding one or two things that aren’t thought to be possible. Essentially you ask, “what if” something (such as faster than light travel) were possible, how might that change our world? Each of the stories tries to ask such questions.

“DNA” asks about some of the things that may come to pass as we learn to control our own DNA. Though many have great fear of what may happen when humans begin to manipulate their own DNA, feeling that it is unethical to do so, they ignore the fact that DNA has been modified by evolution since the dawn of life here on earth. In historical times, purposeful animal breeding by humans has been modifying DNA as well. I believe that intelligently guided evolution is going to happen. The first genetic edits will be to cure horrific genetic diseases. Conditions which are so ghastly that—once we are able to modify the patient’s genome for a cure—almost everyone will agree that correcting the victim’s DNA is the ethical thing to do. Then we will start down the slippery slope of correcting our children’s “not so great” genes, then selecting “super” genes for our children because we feel they won’t be able to compete if we don’t. Once we find ways to modify genes in adults as well as embryos, each of us will face our personal decision about whether to modify our own genes to reduce our risk of cancer, then to improve our endurance/strength/intelligence/lifespan, then our beauty—each decision perhaps a little less ethical. As we make these decisions some will be horrified that others are doing it, calling them unethical, yet eventually seduced to do it themselves by the siren song of the improvements they want for their lives and the lives of their children.

DNA also asks, “What if” non-technological aliens have evolved means for correcting, adjusting, and improving their own DNA? Like dogs, whose olfactory systems are so much better than our own that they can sense and recognize just a few molecules per million. What if these aliens could sense the sequence of DNA molecules and further had an organ that allowed them to generate modifications of those molecules? What if they evolved on a planet with high background radiation like Mars, requiring that they evolve and perhaps self-generate their own means for correcting DNA damage in order to live in that high radiation environment? Since large numbers of the cancers that afflict the human race are due to DNA errors from radiation and other mutagens, learning how to more accurately repair DNA damage from such aliens would reduce our risk of cancer. What if we were able to trade with such aliens, not “things,” but knowledge?”

It again asks, “What if obesity really is a communicable disease ‘epidemic’?” What if the mechanism for that epidemic has to do with Trim28, a gene known to result in obesity when its activity is reduced? Perhaps a virus or a change in the bacteria inhabiting your intestines switches Trim28 off? There are, after all, known to be viruses and changes in the intestinal microbiota which influence obesity.

This story continues to explore the (to me) fascinating possibility that other life bearing worlds may have enormously different atmospheric pressures than Earth. In most science fiction, other living worlds are colder, or hotter, or heavier, or lighter, or have a (to us) unbreathable atmosphere due to a lack of oxygen or the presence of toxic gases. But, even if we had a breathable mix and a reasonable temperature, if the pressure was markedly different it could make it impossible for us to live on those worlds. If we just look at the range of atmospheric pressures on the second, third and fourth planets of our own solar system we can see a huge range of variability (Mars = 0.6% of earth’s pressure; Venus = 90X earth’s pressure – neither pressure is even close to livable for humans or other earth animals even if they did have the right mix of gases). But animals can evolve to live at high pressures; witness the depths of our own oceans. So aliens might have evolved to thrive at high pressures. Personally, I believe that tides in our atmosphere induced by the close proximity of a large gravitational body (our moon) have been resulting in the loss of atmosphere over millions of years and that the subsequent thinning of our atmosphere at least partly explains why flying and land animals are so much smaller than they were in the past (a dense atmosphere would have provided such large animals support).

Acknowledgements

I would like to acknowledge the editing and advice of Gail Gilman, Nora Dahners, Mike Alsobrook, Jeff Durham, Ken Pence, and Abiola Streete, each of whom significantly improved this story.