The Genome

  “Those cigarettes aren’t as good,” Alex cautioned. “I’m afraid they’re chemically synthesized.”

  “Uh, same difference … but I haven’t tried this kind.”

  Dr. Watson lit her cigarette, touched the whiskey glass to her lips. She then ardently drew in the smoke.

  “I’m actually a medical doctor, Alex. And my name really is Jenny Watson. I’m from Zodiac originally.”

  “So what are you doing in Holmes’s company?”

  “Is this an official interrogation, Captain?” Dr. Watson smirked. “Keep in mind you’re trying to interrogate a legal medical expert and a class-II assistant detective!”

  “Yes, well … I can’t get into any more trouble than I’m already in.”

  Jenny glanced at him with admiration.

  “You are an odd one, Captain. I was working at Zodiac’s central military hospital. All the usual stuff—sunburns, injuries, tumors, AIDS, head colds … But one day we admitted Sherlock Holmes … Peter C-the-Forty-Fourth Valke. You can sneer at him all you want, but he really is a great detective. His playing Holmes may seem phony, but believe me, it’s a genuine passion. He has found himself a prototype that is almost devoid of emotion, but at the same time respected all over the world. When we met, he … considered it a sign of fate, perhaps? Holmes urged me to take the legal medical expert certification courses and become his companion. He was ready to meet any of my conditions. He could have, of course, requested a cloned companion, but finding a real Dr. Watson apparently touched him deeply.”

  “You have a way with words,” said Alex with a sly smile, and drank off some whiskey.

  “It’s a habit. You see, Captain, I’m trying to succeed in the fields of journalism and literature. And being Sherlock Holmes’s companion is a very, very useful experience!”

  “But you play along to get along, Dr. Watson. You’re so much smarter than you let on.”

  The girl smiled.

  “That’s just a little game of my own. I’m sure C-the-Forty-Fourth can see that.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “But you won’t tell him that, right?”

  “Of course not.” Alex shook his head. “So you’re a writer …”

  “What’s so funny about that?” asked Jenny defiantly.

  “It’s not that, really. It’s just that, to a spesh, the whole notion of changing one’s line of work sounds really odd. To be a medical doctor and, it seems to me, a good one at that, but still want to change careers …”

  Jenny shrugged.

  “Writers, artists, politicians—those careers don’t lend themselves to specialization. Anyone can choose to do them.”

  “Politician-speshes do exist!”

  “Oh, give me a break, Alex! There have been attempts, but they all failed. On my planet, for instance, there is only one functioning politician-spesh, Leon Nizinkin. Seems to be a great specialist by all parameters. Has all the morality adjustments necessary for a politician. Jacks up the crowd in a blink of an eye, masterfully dissembles any emotions, easily switches from one party to another at opportune moments. And yet—no notable achievements whatsoever. In the final analysis, politics has become just a way he earns his living. And to pour out his heart, he writes history books. Wonderful ones, mind you! So, a number of professions have yet to yield to specialization.”

  “Does all this mean that your interest in Holmes is purely utilitarian? You’re collecting material for future use?”

  “Far from it!” cried Dr. Watson angrily. “Yes, the cases are interesting. But we actually do defend the innocent, stand up for justice in the Empire. That is just as important for me!”

  “I can tell by your scar …”

  Jenny made a wry face.

  “I deliberately don’t have it removed. It’s like … a baptism of fire.”

  “I’d remove it, if I were you. Women shouldn’t be proud of their battle wounds. Without the tooth marks, you’d be much more attractive.”

  Now Dr. Watson was looking at him with mild apprehension. Shook her head, got up. Forcefully pressed her unfinished cigarette into the ashtray.

  “Thank you for the whiskey. I hope you’re not guilty, Captain.”

  Alex closed the door behind her and stood still for a few moments, smiling.

  It seemed he had been able to shock Holmes’s loyal companion. But why?

  Could it really be that there had been something unspeshlike in his words? Alex himself thought he was behaving the way he usually did.

  And however trivial that conversation might have been—just over twenty yards away from the disfigured corpse of the Zzygou, on the eve of a bloody galactic war—Alex Romanov enjoyed the memory.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m not in a laughing mood,” said Alex.

  Edgar got up grudgingly. He had been sitting on the back of a dragon, a golden-hued dragon; its wings sprawled out on the flat roof of the palace. Maybe the Sovereign had decided to fly around a bit, surveying his seemingly limitless virtual realm. Or maybe he was just visiting one of his toys.

  The dragon turned its head, throwing a hateful, hazy look at Alex. In the corner of its eye, a lump of dry brown pus had congealed. Edgar must have been neglecting his flocks … although he didn’t seem to deny them food. The dragon exuded the heavy, thick odor of raw meat and also, for some reason, of chewed grass.

  As the boy came down the monster’s back—the dragon raised its scales, forming a kind of stairway—Alex waited patiently. But as soon as Edgar stepped onto the roof and opened his mouth to unleash another indignant tirade, Alex stretched his arm and covered the boy’s lips with his hand.

  “Be quiet a minute.”

  The dragon roared in outrage, but Edgar waved his hand, and the reptile fell silent.

  “I’ll ask you again. What can you do to help in this situation?”

  “Nothing!” Edgar took a step back. “You’re the one who disconnected the inner cameras. I had no idea the Zzygou got whacked!”

  “Could Kim have done it?”

  “No,” said Edgar firmly. “No way. In self-defense, yes, but it’s unlikely the Zzygou was any threat to her. To defend the crystal I live in—the same objections apply. Besides, a fighter-spesh simply kills the opponent, without making a gory circus out of it.”

  “What if she wanted to deflect suspicion away from herself?”

  “Good grief! If Kim had needed to kill the Zzygou, she would have removed all the witnesses. By now she would be down on the planet, with me in her stomach pocket, and your Mirror would be rushing full-speed to the nearest star.”

  “Your emotions blocker … is it capable of inducing mental changes that could make a person turn to murder?”

  “But you’re telling me you haven’t given it to Kim!”

  “I took some myself.”

  Edgar stopped short. He shook his head.

  “I’m such a fool … so that was your goal all along?”

  “No. But you talked about love with too much enthusiasm. Besides, I have to test what I offer to my crewmembers.”

  “And how are you feeling?”

  “No change. Except …”

  “Except?” Edgar was intrigued.

  “Except I’ve stopped enjoying my confluence with the ship. It’s like it died.”

  “I see.”

  The boy paced excitedly along the edge of the roof. He spat down and laughed upon hearing someone curse below. Turned to Alex again.

  “That’s exactly the way it should be. The artificially imposed emotions are the first to disappear. And your own emotions … you have to work them out yourself.”

  “So tell me, could the blocker have made me kill the Zzygou?”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “Of course not. But maybe I don’t remember my own actions?”

  “Nonsense. That’s impossible. The Zzygou was whacked by someone from your team. But not Kim. And not you, if you’re not lying to me right now.”

  “Are you sure,
Edward Garlitsky?”

  The boy froze, his hands behind his back.

  “Let’s be frank here,” said Alex bluntly. “Your little fairy tale might have been enough to convince Kim. But not me. You aren’t the person you’ve been claiming to be.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The first problem—why would anyone take the colossal trouble of raising a full-fledged intelligence in virtual reality?”

  “They wanted to …”

  “Shut up. Second—genetic constructor is not a profession that lends itself to specialization. It’s a coincidence of mental development, a mixture of intuition, a certain special bent of mind, and a goddam talent! It would be impossible to transfer a child’s mind into a crystal to make him a genetic engineer.”

  Edgar forced a laugh.

  “Third,” continued Alex obstinately. “No one has ever even heard of an emotions blocker. It could only be created by a genius of Garlitsky’s level. By a person working at the very deepest level of specialization research.”

  A shadow of satisfaction appeared on Edgar’s face. He said nothing.

  “Fourth. You’re imitating an earthly world in your crystal. Plants, landscapes, surroundings. That’s logical for a person who was born and spent most of his life on Earth. But not at all for a little boy from Edem.”

  “Damn,” cried Edgar earnestly. “What a stupid goof!”

  “Five. You don’t make a convincing teenager.”

  “And why is that?”

  “The geishas around you,” said Alex softly, “would be mature, voluptuous women. And never the same age as you. Your image would not reflect your actual appearance—you’d be walking around in the handsome, powerful body of a grown man. No one even remembers such a thing as glasses for vision correction! There are glasses as an accessory, and there are glasses for sun protection. But vision gets corrected during the prenatal period! In both speshes and naturals. A boy Edgar could not be myopic and wouldn’t wear glasses in the virtual world.”

  “You’ve convinced me.” The boy threw his hands up in surrender. Took off his glasses, tossed them down from the roof. “Well … but what made you think I was the geneticist Garlitsky, who died a hundred and fifty years ago?”

  “Immediately after Garlitsky’s death, the center of developing genetic technologies moved over to Edem. All the main specializations are now being developed there. So either a new genius of your level had appeared,” Alex consciously dropped in another note of flattery, “or Garlitsky’s mind continued to function. On Edem. Why Edem, by the way?”

  “Earth’s legislation back then was highly distrustful of genetic engineering. And virtual minds had no rights whatsoever.”

  “And look at all the rights you got on Edem!”

  The boy’s face grimaced as in pain. Alex quickly added, “Why don’t we continue this discussion in different surroundings? I have a little time … and I’d like to find out a few things.”

  “All right, Mr. Pilot.” The boy raised his hand. The dragon roared piteously, and the fairy tale world vanished.

  Now it was an ordinary room, furnished in a style of at least a hundred years ago. Amorphous plasticate chairs, picture windows, a waterfall chandelier whose sparkling streams vanished without a trace right at the level of the floor.

  Edgar, too, had changed.

  Alex looked at the heavyset old man sitting in front of him and nodded.

  “I recognize you. That’s the way you looked in the films.”

  “I can turn totally decrepit … the way I looked when I left the human world,” said Edward Garlitsky ironically. “But it’s not a very appetizing sight. What is it you want to know, pilot-spesh Alex Romanov?”

  “Were you really incarcerated?”

  “Yes.” Edward’s face contorted with emotion. “Those scumbags … those low-life bastards! I was stupid—I didn’t start growing myself a new body immediately. I was thrilled by the idea of first constructing the greatest body-shell ever and then taking up residence in it. To bring forth … the beginning of a new race. Of super-humans, not the wretched speshes of today … I beg your pardon.”

  “I’m not offended.” Alex sat down in one of the armchairs, which bubbled beneath him, as it searched for the most comfortable shape to take. After a brief hesitation, Edward moved closer to him.

  “I was going to make a universalist-spesh. To combine all the best features that could be combined in a human body. I would have been human—outwardly. But I would have been able to breathe underwater and function for hours in vacuum, pilot spaceships and write poetry, repair kitchen stools and manage a gluon reactor. I wanted to squeeze the human genome for absolutely everything it could possibly give! And take what it couldn’t from other earthly and extraterrestrial life forms!”

  “And that was why they imprisoned you?”

  “Yes. No one wanted that. It scared them. I had come up with a system of surgical recombination of the genome, and I was very close to achieving a result. I even ordered them to start growing the first body … and that was when they stopped me. I was tried … posthumously. And sentenced to be incarcerated in the crystal indefinitely to do socially beneficial work. The Emperor personally banned the creation of super-humans. And I … I was ordered to work on new specializations for the Empire.”

  “How could they order you around? Did they threaten to destroy the crystal?”

  “Alex …” The geneticist laughed. “You cannot imagine what a multifaceted hell you can organize in virtual space. I could show you … but you’d jump out into the real world immediately. And I had nowhere to go! They would hook my gel-crystal up to another, more powerful one—it would take over … and a nightmare would start. I don’t know who they had hired to do it. But he had a fabulous imagination.”

  “I believe you,” said Alex.

  Edward threw up his hands.

  “Believe it or not. That’s the truth. I broke down. I agreed to live in the virtual world until I received a special pardon from the Emperor … and keep building new speshes. I was thinking up pilots, fighters, gardeners, and hairdressers … At times, I would feel I was losing my mind. I tried to spite the customers … have you ever met a street sweeper-spesh?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s not a human being. It’s a parody of a human being! Hands touching the ground, fingers covered with fur to play the role of brooms! A chest-pocket for garbage! A soft, quiet voice and a kindly disposition. And despite all this, the intellect is left completely intact!”

  “I remember, everyone respected our street sweeper very much,” said Alex. “He was so kind, so personable. Really loved the kids, gave us rides around the yard up on his shoulders …”

  “Oh, Lord! So even that little detail worked?” Edward burst out laughing. “The street sweeper I knew as a kid was always chasing us off, so I endowed my street sweeper-spesh with a special affection for children … The very idea was meant as a mockery! But they put it into production.”

  “So who exactly is Kim?”

  “My salvation.” Edward immediately got serious. “Twenty years ago I managed to … in a very sly way—I had willy-nilly become an experienced hacker—to get onto the galactic web. I was searching for opposing trends. Searching for people who might be able to help. Searching for access to public opinion. Then I realized that there was no way out. No opposition existed—if you didn’t count some insane religious sects and a few planetary governments that had recently grown in power. But there was no one who could help me, no one to go against the Imperial powers and the Edemian parliament. So I decided to create a person who would help me escape. It was impossible to work with the masses, but when an order was placed for an agent-spesh, an eternally charming, clever girl with special capabilities … I played around with her genes a little bit. My work was being closely watched, but nobody caught on this time. They even thanked me for completing the assignment so masterfully. But I waited till the girl grew up a little, and then started meeti
ng her in some virtual worlds. Made up this touching legend for her … I love Kim very much, Alex. I don’t even know who she is to me—my daughter, my sister, the woman I love …”

  “You created Kim to suit yourself ?” asked Alex.

  “Of course. I had no illusion that she’d be faithful to me forever. I had time enough to rid myself of the ancient moral attitude … almost. According to my original plan, Kim would rescue me when already a grown woman, with sound savings and solid covers. But the lab was being modernized, the communication lines were changed, and I realized I was about to lose contact with the girl. So I had to improvise, but it turned out very well. I took over the controls of one of the service robots. It carried the gel-crystal out and set fire to the laboratory. The crystal was considered destroyed, when in reality Kim was taking care of it. But then almighty chance came into play. Kim’s mother caught her with the crystal. Realized it wasn’t just a collection of sex entertainments or romantic stories. You know the rest. We ran away.”

  “And you took the risk of trusting your life to a girl on her very first foray into the galaxy? Who knows what all could have happened to her!”

  “Like what?” Edward shrugged. “Yes, she is attractive! But she is also a fighter-spesh with a whole lot of other capabilities. If someone tried to rape her … I wouldn’t envy him! Even if she were tied up hand and foot.” The smile that appeared on Edward’s face was the unpleasant smile of a person who knows something unknown to anyone else.

  Alex frowned.

  “So you deliberately made her this way? Smart, beautiful, sexy, and at the same time a merciless killer?”

  “And what’s wrong with that, Alex? These are the things the Empire lives on. Every government creates the citizens it wants. Every large firm with serious intentions for the future puts in an order for speshes of the type it needs. Parents, choosing the future for their kids, pay for this or that specialization. How are my actions any worse? I worked really hard for Kim. So the fact that she’s rescuing me is … well, a kind of natural gratitude, perhaps!”