Gene Mapper (10 page)

“Watch the continuation and you will understand. Shall we?” He held up a forefinger and slowly lowered it to the file. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tip of his finger as it moved in an arc to the playback button.

The video played. The camera pulled back and panned to the table facing Kurokawa. The image went out of focus and sharpened again. Barnhard. He was sitting there, far too large for his chair, looking suitably uncomfortable. He opened his mouth slowly before he spoke.

“Our product, Super Rice Zero, is specially formulated for brewing sake. It has not been certified safe for direct human consumption. Words cannot express my regret that Takashi Kurokawa and twenty-six other people were harmed by it.” The Japanese interpreter’s voice overlapped Barnhard’s, the way they used to do it before machine translation.

“I won’t even try to minimize what happened with fancy words. Our product put your son and twenty-six others in a coma. All those affected, as well as their families, will receive generous compensation from L&B. If you wish, we will see directly to the victims’ care until a means of treatment is found.”

Enrico tapped pause again.

“This goes on for a long time, but I think you get the point. Takashi Kurokawa eats Barnhard’s Super Rice Zero and it puts him into a coma.”

I shook my head. “Wait a minute.
Barnhard’s
distilled rice, was it?”

“What do you mean?”

“The first distilled generation was SR01.”

There was another facial artifact, then he shrugged his shoulders. “You should know.”

Didn’t this guy even know the terminology? I was glad they hadn’t given him the investigation.

“Anyway, now you have seen it. Kurokawa’s father feeds him L&B rice, Takashi falls into his coma. After he comes out, he goes to do freelance work for L&B. Doesn’t that strike you as a little bizarre? Kissing everybody’s ass in his Japanese English. But you never know what he’s thinking, do you?”

Enrico rested his hands on the back of the bench and leaned toward me.

“Anyway, why would Lintz give him anything to do in the first place? It makes no sense. Would you give work to someone after robbing him of some of his life? I think Kurokawa knows something about Lintz, something Lintz is desperate to hide. I want to know what it is.”

I glanced sharply at Enrico. There would be plenty of time to consider his warning about Kurokawa, but I could already see he was not a man to be trusted. I had lowered my Behavior Correction settings before I left Tokyo, and my distaste for him was probably easy to see.

And that was just fine.

“Come, you don’t need to look at me that way. Just don’t trust Kurokawa, okay? Take the investigation away from his hands, for your sake. Understand? You have been warned.”

He logged off.

I shoved the pew backward to get some leg room. Sure enough, my butt was totally numb from sitting on the hard narrow bench. My joints kept popping as I stretched and tried to loosen up my neck.

I looked toward the entrance. Ms. Skinhead and her camera crew were gone too.

I turned back to the altar. My eyes were drawn to the image of the crucified Christ. The afternoon light pouring through the stained glass of the rosette windows on both ends of the transept threw multicolored patterns on the floor and ceiling. As I gazed at Christ bathed in the shifting colors, Enrico’s words started circling in my brain like vultures. Don’t trust Kurokawa … Could he be right? Since this trip began, I had found myself liking him more and more. His refusal to let his size defeat him, his relentlessly cheerful and sincere approach to everything—was it all a deception?

“Takashi …”

I was letting my suspicions get the better of me when I caught sight of a white ao dai hurrying toward me like a small whirlwind.

“Mamoru! Sorry to keep you waiting. Oh, are you all right? Your face …”

“I’m fine, it’s nothing. I felt a little unwell for a minute there.”

“Well, I hope you feel better now. Oh, right, Isamu says he’s not going back to the office today. You can take the rest of the day off. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’m sorry, there’s something I need to check at the office. Maybe next time.”

*   *   *

I touched the brass door handle and let myself in. Two blinks to activate the augmented reality stage.

“Anyone here?”

The table was piled high with dirty Frisbees and tennis balls. John and Paul had been hard at work since I left.

I reached down to retrieve a ball from the floor. It changed into a folder before I touched it. The label read
FAN FAN FARM: NIIGATA PREFECTURE, 2014
.

What a mountain of work. I had a huge amount of matching to do, but at least I was looking at the beginnings of real progress. For the first time I felt like things were moving ahead.

“Maybe I can ask Isamu to match these while I’m gone …” Talking to myself again.

Something moved near the entrance. I turned and saw a golden retriever with a red bandanna peeking at me around the edge of the door.

“Hey, don’t scare me, okay?”

John trotted over to the table, nails clicking on the floor, and deposited another tennis ball on the table. I put my hand out to pat his head. The feedback chip gave me a sensation of hand movement, and I could see the dog’s fur move, but there was no sensation of touch. He was indistinguishable from a real dog, but the lack of sensation reminded me I was in augmented reality.

I patted him a bit more before he trotted reluctantly to the door, looking back at me a few times. He touched his nose to the handle and let himself out.

I sat down on the sofa. I thought I’d better take another look at Enrico’s video after all. Not that I was eager to see it again, but I wanted to try his bookmark when he wasn’t around. The image file that the bookmark pointed to played flawlessly. I watched to the end, but all I saw was more of the same: Takashi Kurokawa had gone into a coma after eating Super Rice Zero. The way Barnhard apologized made it sound like the coma was irreversible. How
did
Kurokawa finally recover, I wondered.

Something else bothered me. Kurokawa and his father looked far too much alike for father and son. The glasses, the hair, everything except the size was identical, so identical that it made the video look fake. I thought of having Yagodo do a forensic check, but then again, was this something I should even show him?

I looked closer at the video, thinking maybe I could figure it out myself, when a voice spoke from behind.

“So, you’ve seen it.”

It was Yagodo. He was sitting at his desk in a cream-colored shirt. He hadn’t been there when I walked in. He must have logged on from somewhere. He came over and sat on the couch.

“Isamu, do you know about this?”

“Yes. I did a background check on Takashi and there it was. It’s an awful story. I found a few other articles that confirm it. Takashi is one of the Super Rice Zero victims. A lot of people in the industry still remember it, even this many years later. Hey, what’s the matter? Is there something on your mind?”

What sort of expression did I have? Should I tell Isamu how I got this video?

“I know it’s a shock, but why don’t we wait and let Takashi tell us in his own time?” said Yagodo. “Right now we’ve got an intruder to identify.”

He put his hands on his knees and stood up. “You’ll be in Cambodia overnight. Don’t worry. While you’re gone I’ll keep salvaging candidates off the Web. Today alone, John and Paul have already brought me about two thousand possibles. I’ll take care of the matching work too.”

“Hey, that’s good of you, Isamu.”

He logged off.

Tomorrow we were leaving for Cambodia. Yagodo was right. There would be time to consider Enrico’s warning later. It was time to get back to work.

I was down to my boxers. I had my hands on them, ready to take them off, but I couldn’t summon the nerve. The cold from the linoleum crept through the soles of my feet and up my legs. Shue Thep was putting us through Mother Mekong’s standard security check.

“Shue, don’t you have any guys who could cover this?” My hands were still frozen.

“We’re short on people. Short on time too. Would you just get those off?”

Thep brushed a long strand of black hair from her face and leaned tiredly against the door. There were faint circles under her almond eyes. She was only a bit taller than Kurokawa, but with the top half of her too-large jumpsuit wrapped around her waist, she almost looked smaller. Her purple sports bra and tight-fitting T-shirt looked freshly laundered, but the jumpsuit and work boots were flecked with mud.

“It’s just a formality. As soon as I see you’re not hiding anything, I’ll turn my back. Now get a move on.” Her voice was as tired as she looked. Maybe her English was politer than it was coming across in Japanese, but Yagodo’s translation engine favored mood over meaning. She certainly sounded more than a bit pissed off. I wished I knew how to change the engine’s Mood Sensitivity setting.

Kurokawa stood with his back to Thep. He was out of his clothes and as close to the locker as possible, reading the warnings on a bottle of green gel.

Kurokawa and I had hardly spoken after I joined him in the lobby that morning at six. We’d pushed the cart piled high with Kim’s gear to the edge of the river near the hotel and loaded everything onto a waiting helicopter. Almost as soon as we buckled up, we were airborne and hard at work. Kurokawa conferenced with L&B over the noise of the rotors while I paged through the genomes that had started to come in from Yagodo. He had already salvaged over three thousand candidates, but he was coming up dry on matches.

The only words we exchanged during the flight came after Kurokawa unwrapped his fourth chocolate bar.

“You sure have a thing for chocolate.”

“Yes. It’s the calories.”

*   *   *

“We’re supposed to apply this to our genitals too. Very thorough.”

The US Ground Forces biochemical warfare suits Yagodo had ordered for us were nothing like the “field gear” I had been picturing. The suits were assemblies of black carbon-fiber plates that encased the body in a suit of armor. The plates were joined with carbon-fiber ribbons that automatically adjusted for length, letting the user move freely.

When we opened the shipping container, a tutorial video started automatically on a monitor inside the lid. The suits came with mil-spec AR feedback. The green gel held millions of nanomachines that passed through the skin to stimulate the nervous system directly.

I’d never seen a tutorial like this, but I had to admire the care that went into it. The explanation of the suiting-up process, user features, and emergency escape procedure in case of injury were easy to understand the first time through. I was impressed by the narrator’s guarantee of comfort in any environment, even in a sewer with one hundred percent humidity. The suit also protected the user from unpleasant sensory experiences, like the stench of rotting corpses on a battlefield.

Kurokawa started spreading on the goop. Thep took a long, thoughtful look at him.

“You’re an SR Zero victim, aren’t you? When did you come out of your coma?”

“Listen, Shue—”

She turned toward me, but her eyes were focused at a point in midair.

“Seven years ago,” said Kurokawa matter-of-factly. “As you see, my growth stopped completely.” His voice seemed to snap Thep back to reality. She blinked, shook her head, and straightened up.

“I’m sorry, Kurokawa-san. Maybe that was a little too personal.”

“Don’t give it a second thought. You look like you need some rest.”

“Rest. Yes, rest would be nice. I’ve hardly slept since the mutation started. That was five days ago. I keep sending information to L&B, but they never get back to me. Instead I get two requests for samples from you, and you’re not even L&B. Then I get a personal message from Barnhard telling me to let you tramp around collecting samples yourself. Isn’t Enrico still the PM? What’s going on with L&B anyway?”

“Enrico’s disap—”

“Ms. Thep.” Kurokawa cut me off. “From now on, please deal directly with me. The investigation on the ground will be conducted by me and Mamoru. I’ll gather all the information you need and keep you in the loop.”

Her dark mood seemed to lift immediately. The lack of response from L&B must have really been on her mind.

“You’ll coordinate everything? I appreciate it, but what happened to Enrico?”

“He’ll be on vacation for a while.”

“On vacation? He’s the PM. What happened? Did he have a breakdown?”

“Something like that.” Kurokawa laughed regretfully.

“What a fool. Going mental at a time like this. I bet he ran back to Mama.”

“Enrico is very good with the technology. I’m sure he’ll be giving us valuable support as soon as he recovers.”

“Is he really good with the technology?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Thep. “But I don’t need him. I’d rather work with you.”

She leaned against the door, feet planted shoulder-width, arms folded. The muscles in her arms and shoulders flexed.

“Hayashida-san, your hands are frozen. Could you hurry up and get those shorts off?” Her voice had an edge to it, but a hint of kindness too. I sighed and dropped my drawers.

“Well, at least you weren’t being shy about your size. Okay, I’ll turn around. Get that gel on and suit up.”

*   *   *

Thep walked ahead of us down a long corridor that led to the fields.

“I’m glad you brought this gear. Now we can do some night shooting.” She was carrying a big tripod on one shoulder. An eight-by-eight True Vision multipoint camera array swung from her other hand. Both pieces of gear were from Kim’s shop.

“Phnom Penh is two hours on the chopper. It’s hard to get decent gear there, and since the mutation started we haven’t let anyone on the site.”

“Thank you,” said Kurokawa. “We’d prefer to avoid panicking the public. I’m glad you secured the site.”

“Yeah. Except for the squatters.”

“Out here?” I was surprised.

“Sorry, we’re all just country people here.” Thep smiled. “Nature addicts. They’ve been living in tents around the perimeter since the site was constructed. They bring in all kinds of equipment and spy on us twenty-four/seven, trying to catch us using pesticides, chemical fertilizers, anything that could blow our certifications. At first I thought they might actually show the world what we’re trying to do here. But their technique is sloppy and the data they’re collecting is junk. Work that shoddy would never pass muster on
my
site.” Thep threw her tank-topped chest out proudly.

“Now they’re flying kites with cameras, shooting us at night. The glowing crops are perfect for their propaganda. Thanks to that we’ve had to spend extra on security. The detail you saw at the front gate is just the tip of the iceberg.

“They’ve been camping out for a year. I don’t know where the money is coming from. I won’t say genetic engineering and distilled agriculture are perfected, but what we’re trying to do here is more sustainable, better for the environment, and safer than slash and burn or relying on natural mutation to produce better crops. I wish I could beat that into their heads.” Thep was hardly breaking a sweat with the heavy tripod and camera array.

“Mother Mekong hires locally. That’s Fair Trade. There aren’t many people here that I can talk to on the same level. Kurokawa-san, after you guys finish, could you leave that with me?” Thep gestured toward me with her chin.

“What, me?”

“No, the suit. That’s a Biochemical Command suit. The AR model, right?” She peered under my armpit, trying to read the spec plate. “I’m glad you came prepared. With things the way they are now, a suit like that would be good to have. All we’ve got for protective gear is this.” She motioned to one of her wrists, which was sealed with an elastic band. The rubberized surface of her jumpsuit was dirty and the area around the knees was wearing thin. The tops of her boots were sealed to her suit legs with silver duct tape.

“It’s not like we’re dealing with a biochemical weapon,” I said.

Thep stopped, put down the camera, and stared at me.

“I mean, there’s no proof that it’s anything like th—”

She gave me a hard shove in the chest. “Do we need proof?” Her eyes were almost wild-looking. “We’ve got
no
idea what this is! That’s why it’s frightening! Something is mutating on this farm. We checked everything—air, water, soil. And we still have no idea why this is happening.”

Her hand was still on my chest. Her arm was trembling.

“We go out one morning. We find something that’s not supposed to be there. It’s not SR06. Something is very wrong. How do we know it isn’t a threat? I can barely get my own people to come out here. They think Neak Ta, the spirit who owns this valley, is angry with us. And those grasshoppers—”

Kurokawa stepped between us. “Ms. Thep, we’ve received almost no information from you since the mutation started. Weren’t you sending data to Enrico?”

The tension in her arm melted away. “That idiot. Didn’t he send you my reports?”

“We can’t reach him. L&B doesn’t know where he is either. All we have is the data you sent me and the cultivation logs.”

“Enrico didn’t send you
anything
? I don’t believe it.” She stepped back and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hayashida-san. You said ‘weapon’ and it set me off. It’s just … it’s so strange that we don’t understand what’s happening. I just pray that it’s not some kind of weaponized genome.” She picked up the camera. “Anyway, with this we can finally shoot the mutation as it happens. Sorry to get physical. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

*   *   *

The UV in the sterilization chamber was intense even through the suit visor. I stood with arms straight out, blinking against the light. We had to cook off any contaminants before we went into the field.

“Those suits look new. They should be clean already, but my gear is not. This will just take a little longer.”

Thep was encased in her dark yellow jumpsuit. I couldn’t see her expression behind the eye slits in her clean mask. Not only was her rubberized jumpsuit from a different era, it was several sizes too big. She needed a web of silver duct tape to keep it in place.

“We’re here to follow your procedures, Ms. Thep,” said Kurokawa. “I don’t want to complicate this investigation by bringing in some sort of contaminant.”

Kurokawa opened his suit workspace and began inputting into the strange-looking interface. Thep peered over his shoulder.

“What is all that?”

“I’m inputting today’s Operation into our control program. The three of us make up a platoon. The immediate goal of the Operation is to collect samples of the intruder, SR06, and the grasshoppers, along with any other relevant intelligence. The Operation comes under the Mission, which is to determine the nature of the anomaly threatening Mother Mekong.”

“Do we really need a whole grasshopper?” I was hoping not.

“Of course!” Kurokawa and Thep answered in unison.

“How are we going to catch one? We didn’t bring a net.”

“Don’t worry, the border between SR06 and the mutated plants is full of them. You can catch them with your hands.” Thep sounded disgusted, though I still couldn’t see her face. According to the tutorial, the AR that came with the suits let you “see” the expressions on your platoon mates’ faces.

“Shall we go into AR?”

“Yes, it’s time,” said Kurokawa. “The video said to whisper ‘activate’ and gesture with the left hand over the face.” He put the tips of his left thumb and little finger to his temples. “Activa—”

His head rolled back before he finished the command. He dropped to his knees and toppled over. His helmet thudded against the floor and he went into convulsions.

“Kurokawa-san!” Thep was on her knees beside him. His back was arched in a position that didn’t seem anatomically possible. I could hear wet gurgling from inside the helmet. He was vomiting.

“We’ve got to get his helmet off!” Thep shouted.

“Wait!” I kneeled and pulled the release under his jaw. The visor popped off. Vomit flecked with tiny strands of fiber splattered onto the floor. His fingers were curled into claws. His eyes were locked open and jerked spastically.

“What’s happening? What is it?” Thep was screaming now.

Kurokawa took a deep breath, tensed, and ejected another geyser of vomit from the pit of his stomach.

I cursed myself for not paying more attention to the tutorial. What was the emergency escape procedure? Kurokawa was fighting the convulsions, trying to reach behind his neck.

I remembered. The emergency release was at the base of the neck.

“Takashi, I’m getting you out of that suit!” I put my arms under his armpits and hugged him to my chest. He tried to say something but vomited onto my visor instead. I found the cable and jerked it.

The ribbons linking the suit plates loosened. Green gel oozed from the gaps. Thep grappled with the gel-smeared ribbons at the back of the suit and pulled the armor away.

“Turn on the shower!” I yelled at her. “We’ve got to get this stuff off.”

“It’s not sterile!”

“I don’t care!”

She ran to a panel by the door and jammed her thumb on a blue button. Water came blasting out of nozzles on both sides with nearly enough force to knock me down. I lifted Kurokawa into the stream. The water pummeled his skin as it flushed off the gel.

“I called for help!” Thep yelled in my ear. The door was already open and several of her people were coming in with a wheeled stretcher.

“Clean him off!”

Multiple hands held Kurokawa and wiped off the last bits of gel with towels. They picked him up and put him on the stretcher. While they kept wiping him down, I noticed something odd on his right shoulder.

It was a three-line bar code. Not a tattoo—it was different somehow. I looked closer. The bar code glowed softly and faded, with a rhythm like a heartbeat.