The Genome

  But Kim was not just a fighter. She was also a hetaera. Highly emotional, amorous, devoted … as long as she felt that someone needed her.

  And that was where the whole thing got messy.

  “My ethical side,” Alex slowly began, “does not predispose me to follow other planets’ laws blindly. That would be a very dangerous quality to have, and so I must make decisions based on universal human morality. But … all this is rather complicated, Kim. I must have a talk with your friend.”

  “You have a neuro-shunt?” asked the girl simply.

  “Most probably.”

  He opened a desk drawer and, just as he expected, found a standard neuro-shunt, for reading books, watching movies, and making excursions into virtual spaces. It was a headband with a neuro-terminal microchip sewn onto it and a soft, plastic, sticky patch with a gel-port. The shunt was of a cheap variety. The headband and the sticky patch were connected by a thin extension of optical fiber. But Alex didn’t care.

  Kim silently watched him put on the headband and reopen the processor panel. The feeder-fibers had already wrapped themselves around the giant gel-crystal, which sustained Edgar’s whole world. Alex had to separate them in order to hook the sticky patch to the crystal.

  “Maybe I should be the one to go in first?” suggested Kim sheepishly.

  “I’ll go first. You’ll go next.”

  “He might get scared. He doesn’t know about any of the stuff that happened since we ran away from Edem.”

  “I’ll calm him down.”

  “Tell him I said ‘hi,’” Kim managed to add, right before Alex sat down in the chair and activated the shunt.

  Chapter 3

  Each gate to a virtual world opens in its own unique way.

  Some with a bright flash, a cascade of lightning, or a series of colorful rainbows.

  Others with utter darkness, in which a world slowly takes form.

  Whatever the world, a threshold is necessary—a place to prepare, to take the first couple of steps towards the nonexistent spaces.

  The creator of this particular world, however, did not believe in introductions. Alex instantly found himself surrounded by the universe locked inside the gel-crystal.

  He found himself standing on a riverbank, waist-deep in lush meadow grass, his feet sinking down into the soft, soggy mud. The river was straight as if drawn with a ruler, wide and unhurried, its cold clear waters rolling past languidly. About ten paces away was the edge of a thick wood of dark conifers. It stretched the length of both banks. Over the waters flowing toward the horizon, right above the middle of the river’s course, the sun was setting. Alex didn’t know if the terms “east” and “west” were appropriate in this situation, but he was sure it was evening.

  An interesting world. It looked like a giant playground. A place where a dragon might suddenly fly up, or a mermaid might lift her head out of the water. Well, according to Kim, this world had been a child’s creation. And even if this child was now years older, it mattered little—those who spent a lot of time in virtuality were slow to grow up.

  “Edgar!”

  Alex slowly plodded toward the woods. The gel-crystal dweller should be nearby. He had to have sensed the presence of an intruder. That would mean the boy was hiding, watching closely, still not sure whether to make contact. In his small universe, he was a king and a god. He could easily toss Alex out. But the boy was not stupid. He had to understand that his microcosm depended fully on those who held the gel-crystal in their hands. A hard blow, or a few seconds in the microwave, and that would be the end.

  “Edgar, I know you’re here!” Alex shouted out. “I’m not your enemy!”

  He preferred to avoid saying “friend” just yet.

  “Kim wanted us to talk! She says ‘hi’! Edgar!”

  “I’m here.”

  Alex turned around.

  In his own world, Edgar could look any way he chose. He could be a giant, towering a hundred yards tall. A monster. An innocuous-looking scientist. Or a warrior.

  But the boy looked as though he preferred his normal appearance—if one could use such a term to describe someone who had no real body. A youth in his teens, awkward and lanky, with a pale, untanned face and black hair, long in need of a cut. He was barefoot. He wore only a pair of pants cropped below the knee and … glasses. This antique trinket on his face looked rather weird.

  “I’m Alex,” the pilot said.

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  “You left me an entry channel yourself. Thanks.” The boy’s voice bore no trace of irony. But not much real gratitude, either. His was the tone one might use to thank an executioner for promising to take extra care to sharpen his ax.

  “I’m glad you’re well informed.” Alex smiled. It hadn’t occurred to him that the crystal-dweller could download data from the sensors inside the captain’s quarters. Well, nothing could be done about that now. “So then you know that Kim managed to complete your plan.”

  “Complete?” Edgar frowned and sat down on the grass, crossing his legs. “If she had managed to complete it, she’d be working somewhere on a quiet planet, no one would know about the crystal, and in a few years, I’d get a new body.”

  After a minute’s hesitation, Alex sat down beside him. The damp dirt was unpleasantly cool to the touch. But this was virtual dampness—no risk of getting sick from sitting on it.

  “If your story is true, then your plan will be completed just as you say,” he told the boy. “Working on a spaceship, Kim can make money way faster than on any planet.”

  “And why should I believe you?” asked Edgar testily.

  “Why? A difficult question. You’re a genetic construction specialist, right?”

  The boy gave a vague shrug.

  “Which gene is responsible for my ethical qualities?”

  Edgar smiled at such a simple test.

  “Not just one gene. You have a whole complex of genes activated—the Zey-Matushenski complex, also known as the Aristotle Operon. It is responsible for your heightened honesty and your need to seek out the truth. And it’s also a very strong behavioral operon that strengthens your parenting instincts. Subconsciously, you consider all the people who enter your life to be your children. You feel they all need you to care for them and to defend them, regardless of age, real abilities, or even their wishes. The genetic Kamikaze complex, or, rather, the Gostello Operon, as it is properly called, was discovered by Russian scientists. It makes you always ready to sacrifice yourself. You have several other minor alterations, but those I just listed are the main ones.”

  “The crystal could have a database you might be using,” Alex noted.

  “Of course. So how do you test me? If I told you something that can’t be found in widely available databases, you’d have no way of knowing if it were true or I was just making it up.”

  Alex nodded.

  “All right. You’ve convinced me. So you know that I am a pilot-spesh. You should also realize that pilots don’t lie.”

  “As a general rule, they don’t.” The boy burst out laughing, plucked a blade of grass, squeezed it between his teeth. “But I’m a thief, after all. And you’re an honest citizen.”

  “You’ve run away. You were deprived of your body. That’s not fair.”

  “But I have also stolen the crystal, haven’t I? It costs more than a thousand human bodies.”

  “What are you going to do with it, once you have a body?”

  “Send it back to the lab on Edem. Empty. Let them kick themselves.”

  “Then it’s not a theft. I have no reason to turn you in.”

  The skinny boy, who had no real body, sat a long time looking down the river, watching the sun, which was setting, but never seemed to be able to roll below the horizon.

  “These are just words. A lot of words. I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone.”

  “No one at all?”

  Edgar didn’t answer immediately.

  “Only Kim. I
’m like a brother to her … or like a child.”

  Alex bit his lip.

  “Don’t hold a grudge against her.”

  “What is it to you?” sneered the boy.

  “When you get a body, everything will be different. You know I’m incapable of love. I’ll be happy for her … for the two of you.”

  The boy pierced Alex with a look that spoke volumes.

  “How I’d love to turn you into a toad and … squash you!”

  He looked away again, making no attempt to fulfill his threat.

  Damn, damn, damn! Alex sighed. Now, on top of everything else, he also had to deal with a moody, jealous boy incarcerated in a gel-crystal. …

  “Well, go ahead, do it, if it makes you feel better. You can do anything, right?”

  “In my toy land, yes. But who will stay your foot, when you crush the crystal?”

  Alex reached out, touched the boy’s shoulder. Edgar tensed.

  “I have no intention of getting back at you. I won’t harm you. But I can’t reject Kim, either. You see, she hungers for love. I’ll try to make our encounters as … rare as possible. Though I won’t lie to you—I find them pleasurable.”

  “Give her a neuro-shunt,” asked Edgar. “I haven’t seen her for a long time.”

  “If she doesn’t have one, she can have mine. No problem. Don’t be angry.”

  “Slaves don’t have the right to be angry.”

  Alex felt rage boiling up. He wasn’t mad at Edgar, of course.

  “What has been done to you, Edgar, is a heinous crime. I’ll make every effort to help you.”

  “Maybe it is heinous.” The boy slowly lifted his hand, and the sun suddenly started slipping quickly below the horizon. “But it’s commonplace in the galaxy. Everyone’s creating slaves. Strong arms, sharp eyes, excellent mind, beautiful figure—what else to demand from a slave? Ah, yes! Loyalty. Well, it’s easy to increase people’s need for a leader. But I had no need of a body, so they left me none.”

  “And made a huge miscalculation.”

  “Yeah. Loyalty, obedience, submission—these are just biochemical reactions. I lost my body, but gained my freedom from those invisible chains.”

  “Why do you choose to look this way?”

  “This is exactly the way I would look. I managed to find my own genetic map, so I reconstructed my appearance.”

  “But why the glasses?”

  Edgar touched the thin frames. And said curtly:

  “I’m very nearsighted.”

  “No one wears glasses. It’s the simplest correction.”

  “But I have nothing to correct, mister pilot.”

  It was already dark. Stars lit up one by one in the sky. Alex dropped his head back, looking at the constellations. The Southern Cross glowed right overhead, and a little farther off were the Sextant, the Spy Glass, and the Dolphin.

  “I won’t betray you,” Alex said. “The gel-crystal will remain in my cabin. That’s the only terminal that can provide a normal connection for it. Kim can come into your virtual space any time … and I’ll ask her to do it often. You can use all the information from the ship’s infonet. I’ll keep the access to the closed-circuit cameras blocked, though. I’ll probably just disconnect them altogether.”

  “But why?”

  “Edgar, trust me, to feel that someone could be watching your every step is really unpleasant.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll have plenty to occupy my time. This is a very powerful crystal.”

  “I’m sure you’ve amassed quite a library.”

  Edgar nodded, barely visible against the darkness.

  “Yup. Quite a library.”

  “And you’re really a top-notch genetic constructor?”

  The boy smirked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me about Kim. She has a strange specialization, right?”

  Edgar was silent for a moment before he answered in an even, calm voice:

  “My whole world is a fiction, mister pilot. A tiny island of organized data, held together in a quasi-alive goo. I don’t exist. Neither does this river, or this sky. All I have is information. So I am very cautious about sharing it. We’ll talk about Kim, if you want. But not now.”

  Alex got up off the grass. His pants were soaked. His waterlogged shoes squelched.

  “I understand you,” he answered gravely. “But I’m not your enemy, trust me. And, come to think of it, I’m also nothing but an island of information, locked in the goo that’s called a brain. You’ll be all right.”

  “Best of luck to you, Pilot,” said Edgar in his even voice. Paused for a moment, and added, “You can drop in and see me. Once in a while.”

  “Thanks. I will. From time to time.”

  He strained his mind, ripping himself out of the dark summer night, leaving the other on the bank of the geometrically perfect river.

  The virtual world faded away.

  Kim watched him from her armchair. She had dressed and looked like a nondescript young woman again rather than a raging hetaera. Alex couldn’t decide if he was pleased about it, but in any case, it was better this way. After all, Edgar was watching them from his transparent prison.

  “How is he?” asked Kim quickly.

  “Fine.” Alex took off his headband. “Alive and well.”

  “So, now you know I wasn’t lying?” Kim demanded.

  A tiny eye of the optical sensor on the cabin ceiling …

  “You weren’t lying,” he replied, endowing his words with all the conviction he could muster. “But he got really upset.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of what you and I were doing. Edgar is still watching us through the cabin’s sensors.”

  Kim winced.

  “Edgar, that’s stupid!” she shouted. “Don’t be jealous!”

  “Kim, he can’t reply,” interrupted Alex softly. “Tell you what. You go see him right now, so you two can settle all the misunderstandings. In the meantime, I’ll take a nap. For at least a couple hours.”

  “Will you help him, Alex?” demanded Kim.

  He thought for a moment before making his answer:

  “Kim, this story is horrendous. Of course I consider it my duty to help a boy who has been so viciously mistreated.”

  The girl nodded, relieved and reassured.

  “Go talk to him,” Alex repeated, “if you’re not sleepy.”

  “I’ll manage,” said Kim quickly. “I can go for a week without sleep.”

  “I know. Me too. But I don’t see the need right now.”

  Paying no more attention to Kim, he tossed off his robe and stretched out under the blanket. Watched the girl put on the neuro-shunt headband.

  Damn it, what should he do?

  What was this mess he had gotten himself into?

  Just a few random suspicions that were impossible to prove or disprove. Circumstantial evidence, to use a legal term. And a gnawing sense of deception …

  Kim jolted. Her body stretched out and then lay still. Her skinny legs stuck out funny, the right foot dangling in the air, not reaching the floor.

  Kim, what have you gotten yourself into?

  Edgar was right. Alex was bound hand and foot by the invisible biochemical fetters that made him protect all those close to him. He was incapable of love, but could anyone tell from his actions? Pilots were ideal captains, after all. Their power rested not in strength or authority, but in the love of their crew. And that was right. He was glad to have ancient moral principles embedded in him, the principles that had been learned through thousands of years of human suffering. These fetters were also a gift. No need to strive to become better—it had all been given to him in advance.

  He couldn’t betray Kim.

  He couldn’t let himself resolve his vague doubts the simplest and most obvious way—by ripping the gel-crystal out of its nest and handing it over to the security officers at Gamma Snakebearer.

  All he could do now was wait … and hope that all his suspicions were
groundless, that all the coincidences were random. And that the crystal harbored a frightened young man who dreamed of gaining a human body.

  Alex closed his eyes and went to sleep. He would sleep for exactly two hours. It was certainly less than recommended, but quite enough for a modified nervous system.

  Gamma Snakebearer had no planets suitable for life. One planet, a charred hunk of rock, orbited very close to the star itself. Another, a luminary never born, just a cold clot of gases, patrolled the very edges of the system. But the space channel located there was very convenient—twenty-eight exits led out to populated worlds, most of them human, and a few to alien territories. So the Empire had built a gigantic transport station at the channel’s mouth and stationed several ancient battleships there to milk the new and lucrative junction for all it was worth. The absence of any planets actually proved to be a bonus; it was much easier for the Imperial government to control a space station than a planetary colony. This way, the profits didn’t have to be shared with any local presidents, kings, tsars, khans, or shahs.

  Mirror didn’t need to stop for fuel or rest. The ship dove out of the exit point, turned around to trace a gigantic arc around the one-eyed cylinder of the space station, and then got in line for another entry. The magic mirror of the hyper-channel floated among the stars, indifferent to the many ships diving in and out.

  Most of the crew were off duty. The engineer appeared, idled a while, got bored, and departed, leaving the engine running at minimum capacity. Generalov dropped in for a second. With the generosity of a magician, he spread out several routes and went off again. There was still an hour remaining before re-entry into the channel. Janet never appeared at all, and Kim was bored at her battle station, entertaining herself by calculating possible attack routes. Seeing this, Alex blocked off her weapons systems, just in case.

  Only Morrison was utterly thrilled to be flying. He enjoyed every tiny maneuver, every little piloting show-off trick invisible to the untrained eye. Seeing who could perform the most graceful turn, using the gravitational field of the channel. Or who would be the one to give the most elegant salutation to his colleagues by a barely detectable movement of the ship.