章節 10: Chapter 10
Foggy predawn air crept into his lungs. Moisture clogged up the nose and mouth, awakening receptors with the tart scent of the summer forest. Chris felt like sneezing but feared that this wonderful scent would dissipate if he did. The sun rose higher and higher, leaving no choice but to open his eyes. At first, he thought that he was sleeping in a nest of acid-green snakes, but, suppressing the momentary fear, he realized that all the surrounding space was an interweaving of lianas, roots and thin shoots, entangling Chris's entire body. Everywhere he turned his head he saw green. Chris tried to move, extricate himself from this mysterious tangle somehow. Several shoots seemed to move along with him, one of them wrapped around the waist, but not squeezing too tightly, others wrapped his fingers and wrists. Chris raised his hand to his eyes, trying to see the palm, but it was out of focus, as if the pixels in the picture went crazy.
I'm sleeping, flashed through Chris's head, and he looked around again, trying to make out a clearing in the dense curtain of moving green shoots. Not finding one, he shook off the clinging vines from his palm and thrust both hands into the green veil in front of him. The flexible branches gave in and parted to the sides. The world around him outside the nest wasn't any different; Chris seemed to have got out of a small green cocoon into a large one. Wild, impassable jungle, branches that have covered all the ground under the feet and hanging from each tree so thickly that he couldn't see the trunks behind them. Chris slowly began to move forward, completely not understanding where he was going and what was in that direction. Light green shoots streamed at his feet, as if they were accompanying him, and when he passed close to the vines hanging from the high branches, some reached for him, lightly touching his hands. Whether it's long or short he walked, he spotted a light gap in front, and a minute later Chris came out into a small round clearing surrounded by the same solid wall of greenery; above the clearing, he saw a crystal clear sky. A Tree stood in the very center of the clearing. Its trunk was not wide, but it was not too narrow either; it stretched upward, much higher than the forest trees Chris passed while walking here. The crown sat very high and had an almost perfectly round shape. This Tree, like all the trees in this strange forest, was entwined with thin, serpentine branches – either roots or vines. Those that crawled here step by step after Chris slid further, to that tree. Looking around, Chris realized that the vines were flowing to this tree from all sides. And when they reached it, they didn't stop moving, swarming onto the trunk, sliding up to its crown and circling the tree. As if they were not plants, but the vessels of the circulatory system, originating at the periphery of the forest and connecting in this tree. Chris took a step towards the Tree, at the same moment, the movement around him slowed down and stopped. The Tree began to shrink; the crown seemed to wrap and curl into a smaller ball, the branches rushed down to the roots. Now the Tree did not resemble a tree, but a very tall post or a trunk without a crown. The shoots that entwined it was still moving, flowing down like wax from a burning candle. The movement of the shoots almost completely stopped when this candle height reached the point of about two meters. They were still swarming, twisting into bundles. Chris realized that the Tree was taking on a new shape, more and more it looked like a silhouette of a humanoid body. A head loomed from above; below, the trunk thickened, two bunches of lianas separated from it and were now hanging like arms, the lower half split. The figure in the center of the clearing stood motionless, but the vines did not even think to stop, they moved, rolling, like muscles under the skin. Chris stood still, watching. And for some reason it seemed to him that he was being watched too. The Tree, which took the form of a man, extended its arms to Chris.
***
"Chris! Cri-i-is!!! Where the hell is this spoiled brat?!" Madame in her search of the necessary was able to turn the entire lab upside down, and the graduate students who were aware of this, quickly pressed themselves against the walls so as not to interfere with her.
"Ma'am, I'm here," Chris replied quietly when she passed him without noticing.
"Fuck me sideways! I still can't get used to seeing you in white," she turned abruptly and grabbed the young man's shoulders. "And it suits you damn well. Matches your skin color. Went to bed after midnight again?! I see through you, Cinderella! Okay, I'll find another time to seek my revenge with you. Grab your tab and flee."
Both left the hematology laboratory and walked briskly towards the emergency room.
"Madame François, are there any problems? Why didn't you call me?" Chris tried to keep up, a little discouraged, why, if something extraordinary really happened, she came looking for him herself.
"Right! Accept new patients – by phone, manage the students – by phone, do I also have to go to the gym by phone? Who else can run half a kilometer there and half a kilometer here, if not me?" The French lady was, as always, in her repertoire: she joked a bit, laughed, and then continued, "Nothing terrible happened. Another couple arrived on the advice of those of yours... you name them... Shui... Sai...?"
"Xian Po?" Chris tried to guess.
"Yep, them. By the way, how is Parent X doing? Is he ready?"
"Mentally prepared, and the last phase of testing ends next week. But even without having a complete picture, I see no reason why we cannot allow him to the operation," Chris said with all his usual confidence.
"Good boy," Madame smiled gently at him, "you're doing great, Newman."
"Thank you, ma'am."
They entered an office where two men were waiting. Having introduced himself, Chris sat down in a chair and started collecting primary information about the couple, assessing possible prospects. Madame François was very pleased with the progress of her ward and practically did not interfere in the conversation, and later she began to go about her own business, abstracting herself from those present in the office, until Chris called out to her.
"Madam, I have booked Mr. Lang Xi an appointment, I need your endorsement," Chris called.
"Yes, of course, I'll sign, and you can go. Gentlemen, do you have any more questions for the junior specialist?"
The gentlemen just shook their heads, smiling and thanking for their time. Chris said goodbye and left. On the way to the junior specialists' office, his band vibrated, announcing an incoming call. Chris took the call through the earbud.
"I'm listening."
"Mister Newman, I can fully understand that you are busy, as always, head over heels," Sandro's voice was deafening in his ears, "but if you have forgotten what day it is today, then I'll just kill you!"
But how can one possibly forget.... Chris's thought just as he walked past the video panel in the corridor, broadcasting a video about the call partner himself. The screen showed a blond curly friend of Chris, holding in his arms his almost exact copy, his son Patrick.
Today marks exactly one year since the first child born in more than thirty years of zero demographic growth, and the Coalition dispersed with unprecedented propaganda of implantation and fertilization. Back in 855, they announced the beginning of the Third Phase and the start of active preparation for IVF. Everyone finally realized that there was a huge and perhaps the most important breakthrough – years of research and experimentation yielded results. Only a couple of people became pioneers, among whom, of course, Sandro. He was able to conceive, bear, and give birth to a healthy boy, and survived the whole affair. Of course, it was too early to talk about all the facets of the experiment's success. It was not yet clear whether the child's body would follow the given genomic program of the parent and produce the hormone, but otherwise, he grew and developed quite normally and no one had any fears for his health and life.
After Patrick's birth, or rather, after the case example provided by Sandro, everyone who wished to have children, discarding their fear and doubts, rushed forward. Right now, Chris was supervising the preparation for the implantation for a married couple, one of the partners in which was a representative of the hormonal generation.
In addition to the implementation of Phase 3, research centers worked on other related projects. A control group was created to introduce the genome for hormone production in adults 35-50 years old, who did not belong to the hormonal generation. All this time they have been working on the project at Biosphere 1 – Atlantic. Also they introduced hormone therapy for those who are not ready or, according to some parameters, are not suitable for participation in the experiment of genome correction.
Ten months ago, a wave of fertilization began and junior specialists got actively involved in preoperative stages. Chris has only recently been allowed to consult patients on his own, and these newcomers, whom Madame threw just in, will be the second couple on his account. In addition to consulting, he, like other juniors, assisted in all types of surgeries in the seventh building. Chris made notes to check whether Madame had endorsed appointments for Mr. Lang Xi, to unload his evening by shifting his tasks to the weekends, and not to let Sandro stuff him up with the tonic, because tomorrow he will be assisting the entire team of scientific coordinators, including Erzketau-kri, that's why he needed to meet his morning fresh and sharp as never before.
The transplantation professor still treated Chris a little better and friendlier than other students and assistants. He literally made Chris stand out in everything, even if he did not show it publicly, but Chris felt his help and participation in every project he was signed up for. Moreover, the idea that Grinch could harbor some other than teaching feelings for him had crawled into his head several times already, but... the thought was immediately discarded as illiquid. That was hardly possible. Although the young man's suspicion has not disappeared, and from time to time, he caught very strange dark glances. However, kri kept silent, and Chris just assumed that he needed to stop overthinking.
On his way home, he looked at the schedule for tomorrow, once again checked his notes on the patient, and made notes of what to look for when he returned today after the celebration. He exited the elevator, nodded to his acquaintances on the floor while heading to his studio. Immersed in his thoughts and notes, he did not pay attention to the short sound of the notification, deciding that it was Patrick's happy daddy nagging him again, reminding him of the event, but the twinkling at the door caught his eye and attention. The pneumatic mailbox blinked with a red light. This was weird. He checked the band gear; there it was – the incoming package notification. Though he did not expect any delivery, nor did he receive a pre-delivery note these days. What and from whom could it be? Everyone he knew, who could send him something, was here, in the research complex, working or studying. He shrugged, swiped his band over the sensor panel, opened the mailbox, and took out a small object. The thing turned out to be a memory card. The most common flash drive. Chris unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping the card over in his hands, not finding any inscriptions, and nothing else on it, not even a brand name. Not knowing what to think, he stood in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the black square in his palm, while the lights turned on automatically. No note, no letter, or envelope; also, none of his friends or co-workers warned him that they would send something like that. Why would they, if one can send any information to the e-mail or drop a message or a link in the chat. A conclusion, a very interesting one, suggested itself – he did not know the sender personally, or the sender did not want to be recognized. That didn't help him decide what he must do with the find. What is usually advised for the addressees of such parcels and how can a flash drive harm? A virus? No way... their OS doesn't allow malware of any kind and type. There is a lot of classified information in the center and their safety specialists know what they get paid for. Moreover, what can one steal from his personal computer? Why did they aim it on him? Okay, if not a virus, then what else? If not a malicious application that steals information, then maybe, on the contrary, providing some information? The young man decided to ponder the question – why exactly Chris – later. He sighed, put the card in the drawer, and walked over to the kitchen island. He drummed on the surface with his fingers, dived into the refrigerator, taking out the juice. It's best to just take it to the security post. On the other hand, it's not a detonator, for god's sake. Just a memo stick. Chris poured the juice into a glass, took a couple of sips to wet his throat, nodded to himself, and walked over to the dresser. From the bottom drawer, he pulled out an old tablet and a charger. Then, thinking about something else, he put the charger back in place and took the power bank. Having connected the tablet to it, he changed his work clothes to an informal outfit and returned to the find. Before inserting the card into the slot, he turned on the gadget and made sure that it was not connected to the wireless or any other data exchange network, and went off to disconnect his router. Just in case. He then inserted the card and watched alertly how it would behave, gaining access to the energy. The tablet pinged, notifying that a new storage directory had been found. And that was all. Nothing launched, and it wasn't bad already, so there really is just information for him. Chris opened the explorer; from the root folder, it was suggested to enter local drives, as well as external with the default name. His finger froze over the name of the memo drive for a fraction of a second before confidently poking the touchscreen. A content window popped up, showing only one file inside. The icon indicated that the file format was not supported by the OS and the device cannot read it. Yet, Chris's eyes glued to the name of the file rather than to its format.
It read 'Phase 3 – sub-phase 3'.
Chris's eyebrows came together on the bridge of his nose. This was clearly related to the M-estrogen project, the current third phase, but the wording was slightly confusing. Chris threw his head back facing the ceiling, restoring the appearance of the directory in which they worked, where the entire theoretical and practical database, materials, and everything related to the implementation of the experiment was collected. The memory slipped a clear picture with the launch screen splitting into two folder links. Sub-phases were strategic elements, directions of the current stage, so to speak, and there were only two sub-phases of this phase: natural fertilization and IVF. The first section was inactive. From time to time, various trial theories were added there, but so far, the developments faced a dead corner. This area of knowledge was not available due to many factors. The second folder, in fact, contained everything related to laboratory cases for fertilization. What the hell is 'sub-phase 3'? He grunted in annoyance and clicked on the file. As expected, the system prompted the user to choose which application to open the document with or to search for it on the net. Chris did not intend to go online with a suspicious flash drive inserted in the gadget, so he canceled the operation and threw the tablet away. He gave a sideways glance to the opened folder window. This is some kind of nonsense. In the end, he turned off the tablet, took out the card, put it in the first drawer of the table, locked the drawer with a key, turned off the light, and left. Today is a holiday for everyone, so one needs to try to throw away all unnecessary thoughts and enjoy together with everyone. He will think about the strange parcel later.
It's good that Sandro and Ivan made the decision to celebrate in a close friend circle, not succumbing to the persuasion of the ruling top of the scientific center, who offered to assemble a mass celebration with reporters and fireworks. Although it seems, there were fireworks, shooting all over the island here and there. The whole world celebrated with a young family, just like the New Year. Returning from the party, he immediately fell asleep and didn't even remember taking off his clothes. The task he set to himself regarding drinks, the young man completed only partially. In the morning, he was outraged to find that he hadn't had access to the net, and even called the technicians until he remembered that he had turned off the router yesterday before leaving. Then he tried to shove cheat sheets on today's implementation into his head. Although his head did not hurt, his mind was sluggish. He ordered a vitamin cocktail from the cooking machine and drank it on his way to the surgery unit.
"Chris, hey, Chris!" Dr. Marie emerged from around the corner and waved her hand happily. Chris responded in the same way. "Wait for me. How are you feeling? Survived the yesterday?"
"Uh-huh," Chris nodded affirmatively and just brought the band to the scanning panel, when suddenly the door swung open, crashing his raised hand hard into his chest. He gasped, jumping on the spot from surprise and sharp pain, and splashing the rest of the cocktail on himself and on the transplantology professor who was leaving the operating room.
"What the...!?" Zirka barked, but quickly assessing the situation, refrained from further cursing. He pulled Chris's hand, stretching it for examination.
"Oh-oh-ouch!" The young man could not contain himself; it really hurt.
"Tau-kri, you'll damage an important man-tool if you move so briskly! What's gotten into you? Chris, how are you?" She fluttered around both of them as if a mother hen.
"Mei, scan muscles and bones," Zirka commanded to his brace gear, carefully studied the screen, looked Chris in the eyes. "I am truly very sorry, Newman-kri," the coordinator said in an apologetic voice, finishing feeling the palm. His touch was more than gentle; skin, the temperature of which differed from human by about two degrees, cooled the bruised area pleasantly. "Your wrist is fine, but don't overstrain it tonight, send me another scan-shot later." Turning to François, he added, "I'll join later."
"Yeah, you do," Madame muttered after the fleeing zirka. "Chris, are you okay?" The doctor asked sympathetically when they had already entered the preparation room.
"Well, kri said that everything is fine, so it is," he grunted skeptically, shaking his hand in the air, testing for rotation, clench, and unclench. "Good morning, kaia."
"Morning." Rangira was waiting for them in the hall; she was just getting ready to enter the sterilizer booth. Madame, still annoyed, turned to her, saying, "Hi. What's with the boss? Bolting around, growling early in the morning..."
"Unrequited love," answered kaia vaguely.
"And you are a master of jokes, as I can see!" spat Madame. "Have the test tubes stopped wheezing from him stroking? And what's with reciprocity?"
Rangira stepped out of the booth and cast a quick glance at Chris.
"The answer won't appear if the question was not asked," kaia said even more mysteriously. "I'm going. Waiting for you two to start."
What a strange conversation, Chris thought to himself.
Rangira was clearly not eager to get involved in an open discussion of a colleague behind his back, or maybe it's because of an extra pair of ears. Be that as it may, Chris also did not consider this the correct working behavior; therefore, pretending that he wasn't even interested in the dialogue, he took the exoskeleton brace from the shelf and hid behind the screen.
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