Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (25 page)

The prisoner (or patient) had
managed to cut himself and had used his own blood as ink to draw
arcane designs over every surface of his room; it looked like
something straight from a film, one with cannibals or warlocks.

One of the squiggles of blood
spelled the word
Aghama
and it felt almost like a drug-high
to think that word. I kept my mouth shut.

“This is Six. He was a member
of a Wraeththu gang,” explained Dr Blake in a near whisper “We were
lucky to acquire him – they are slippery customers – but this one
slipped up. He’s useful to us, not least because he’s also a fully
bipolar hermaphrodite. Genetically that makes him even rarer than
you lot.”

“I assume he’s psionic as
well?” asked Paul

“Oh yes. In fact if it weren’t
for Six’s indeterminate gender, he’d rate as near perfect in all
our tests. His immune system is extraordinary, but outweighed by
his infertility as far as the main project goes.”

With almost liquid grace, Six
got to his feet and walked to the glass wall, taking his (her?)
time inspecting each of us in turn. The one-way glass might as well
have been transparent.

“Still giving out numbers so
that you don’t have to think of your victims as people, Doctor
Roger Philip Blake?” he asked.

Blake looked away, clearly
reluctant to meet Six’s gaze.

Six turned his attention back
to us and seemed to be looking me in the eye as he spoke. His gaze
was steady and full of compassion.

“My name is Ashlem. I am
Wraeththu, a har of the tribe Unneah. I wish we were meeting under
better circumstances, but here we are, and I am unable to provide
proper hospitality in this place.” He gestured with both hands, and
then grinned widely

It was odd, really odd. He was
Wraeththu, streetscum of the lowest order. Murder, theft, drugs and
wild partying were supposed to be all they cared about, everyone
knew it; and yet Ashlem appeared to be more than that, honourable
and blindingly charismatic.

I felt the glass under my
fingertips and blinked, I’d stepped closer without realising I’d
done so.

Ashlem stepped close placing
his own fingers against the glass, his fingertips positioned so
that they would have touched my own had the mirrored glass not
separated us.

“I can’t stop them, not yet. I
will help if I can, when the time comes.” he whispered

Something like static
electricity stung my fingertips and I snatched my hand away.

I wriggled my fingers still
feeling an odd tingling in the tips. Dr Blake didn’t seem to have
noticed anything odd and I definitely didn’t feel like mentioning
it.

“Now that you’ve met Number
Six” said Dr Blake “We will start the tests. Focus on Six
psionically and report anything you detect.”

“Roger Philip Blake, you
idiot!” snapped Ashlem, hitting the glass with his palm “They’re
untrained, they don’t have the first idea how to do what you’re
asking.”

Dr Blake smiled in a predatory
way. “You’ve had training? Interesting.”

Ashlem glared at Blake, clearly
angry that he’d revealed something that he’d wanted to keep
hidden.

“This won’t end well, Roger
Philip Blake.”

Ashlem was right of course, we
were complete novices with no clue what to do. Seeing no point in
it, I just leant back against the wall and let my mind wander.
Ironically that was probably the best tactic I could possibly have
chosen.

I stood in the old graveyard.
It was the perfect place, symbolic, We’d told them we only gave the
new drug to blood brothers, or were they cowards unwilling to cut
their own flesh? Silly Hafsexis, so macho, so predictable. Above,
the full moon breaks clear of the clouds, bathing the four
RedJakkers in his light as they lie upon the tombs, waiting for a
gift far greater than the squalid addiction that they’d been
promised.

To the left, someone cried a
warning, too late; two pin-pricks pierced my thigh. Pain. Every
muscle clenching inward. ‘Taser’ I thought... as everything
faded

I blinked and pushed myself
away from the wall. For a second time
,
nobody had noticed
anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

As I’d half expected, Ashlem
had been looking directly at me, but as soon as he was aware that I
was actively looking back at him he switched his gaze to someone
else. What I’d felt, hadn’t been one of my dreams, I was certain.
Although it had been superficially similar, this was more like
remembering something, like someone’s home video, but with an
emotions track as well as sound. Then it clicked into place: I’d
just ‘seen’ Ashlem’s capture. He’d been trying to help those
desperate addicted boys.

Suddenly Salil let out a
piercing scream and clutched at his head.

Dr Blake took one glance at
Salil and then at the Wraeththu before hitting the alarm button
next to the door.

“It’s a trap” announced Jeaki a
few seconds later, his voice sounding pained. “Six wants the guards
sent in. He figures that the more he can disable now, the less
he’ll face when he escapes.”

By that point, three CGS had
already entered the cell. The first one was already down, clutching
his shattered knee. If it had been me, I’d have picked up the
fallen nightstick, but Ashlem never gave it a glance, turning his
momentum into a spinning kick that left the second guard’s arm
hanging at a sickening angle.

I’d never seen fighting like
this; it wasn’t a proper martial art, more like a cat in a sack.
Ashlem was so fast and agile that the CGS seemed to move in slow
motion. When he struck, bones broke. I’m sure the other Specimens
just saw him going murderously berserk, what I saw was a display of
non-lethal maiming.

The fifth CGS to enter the room
didn’t bother with tactics and simply spread himself wide and
charged. In the relatively confined space, Ashlem had no way of
dodging; once he was down it was pretty much all over.

I kept grimly silent. There was
no point in telling the others that Ashlem was innocent, not
now.

*Sixteen*
Someone
whispered deep in my brain.

I was awake instantly. If the
words in my head were not enough, there was an almost painful heat
in my fingertips. Pulling the sheets back with my left hand, I
could see that the fingers on my right hand had reddened as if
scalded. Ashlem. It had to be.

*No. This isn’t a dream*
murmured the voice in my head, in a patient motherly way. *Try to
picture a word in your mind*

Obediently I pictured a word,
forming it carefully one letter at a time, like a three year old
with a crayon.

*H.O.W.?*

*You recall all the static when
you were touching the glass? The Nayati discharged a small amount
of agmara through a focusing majhahn.*

*?*
I sent the question
mark imagining it to be 6ft tall.

*You don’t have the words. Call
it magic if you must; it isn’t really, I’ll explain later.* replied
Ashlem. *Basically I’ve made it so we can talk undetected.*

*Why... We... Talk...?* I
thought carefully

*Because you know I’m not evil.
You know that they are wrong to detain me and... I need you to
trust me.*

If this had been a normal
conversation, I’d have said ‘yeah right. Trust a murdering
Wraeththu? You’re kidding’, but this conversation was different,
mind to mind. I could feel the intrinsic honesty and nobleness that
I’d glimpsed in his memories.

*Trust... maybe*
I
formed cautiously

*That’s good, because I know
what they plan to do to you next.* he continued, with an
undercurrent of urgency that practically grabbed me by my throat.
*Dr Hart thinks that he knows my secret, he thinks he knows why we
are stronger and faster and smarter; a drug that performs a simple
trick with the DNA, something that he can copy. Hart is a fool, he
sees the tip of the iceberg and assumes that there is nothing more
They will inject you with my blood to see what it will do. It will
do more than they think; it will alter the very fabric of who you
are, make you better in ways you can’t even conceive of, but it’s
not safe. All I can do is to ensure you are prepared.*

*Why... You... Warn...?*

*We Wraeththu protect our own.
They will make us blood brothers of a sort, and as it is my blood,
it is also my duty to act as your hienama, your guide.*

I radiated an unfocused feeling
of alarm and confusion, which he ignored.

*I can’t sustain this link much
longer. Just remember this, you mustn’t eat anything tomorrow. You
should tell the others not to eat either. Your body will react like
food is a lethal poison. Also, and this is vital...understand,
vital ... you must meditate, think about who you are, the core of
what makes you You. You mustn’t lose your sense of self.*

My mouth went dry. Telepathy
isn’t like speech. I could tell Ashlem believed what he said was a
certainty.

*Remember to meditate.*
Ashlem’s words drifted away, the tingling in my fingertips fading
as well.

I think he was wise not to go
into detail; had he done so, I wouldn’t have been nearly so calm. I
lay awake looking at the ceiling wondering what it all meant. It
must have been earlier than I thought, because I was soon asleep
again, dreaming of deep magics and profound rituals.

When I awoke, all doubt had
fled, I was absolutely certain that I had to warn the others not to
eat anything. Oddly I didn’t think about avoiding the experiment. I
guess it was another point where I could have said ‘stop’ and
walked away. But I didn’t. It didn’t even occur to me as an option.
I wonder now if my dreams had reached back in time and ensured that
I took the course I did, or perhaps Ashlem’s influence went deeper
than he let on.

I tried to convince them at
breakfast and failed miserably. Only Jeaki and Sarah took me
seriously, the other three choosing to consume our uneaten
portions.

Paul looked up from his cereal
“Six is a seriously sick puppy; you can’t rely on anything he’s
telling you.”

“Have you asked Dr Blake about
any of this?” asked Jeaki

“We can’t tell Blake” I hissed
urgently

“Can’t tell Dr Blake what?”
asked Dr Gupta, who I hadn’t noticed, seated behind us

“Six telepathically warned
Sixteen not to eat anything today,’ replied Jeaki. “Something about
a drug you’re planning to test on us.”

Dr Gupta looked surprised. “You
say Six told you this telepathically?”

“Yes,” I admitted
reluctantly

“And where were you when he
told you this?”

“My room”

“Goodness gracious; that is a
range of nearly a hundred feet. How extraordinary.”

“What about the drug test?”
asked Sarah. “Was he lying to Sixteen?”

“It is true that Dr Hart has
booked you for a drug trial,” replied Gupta enthusiastically. “I
can tell you that I have reviewed his work, and it is a
breakthrough. I would even suggest that it is a work of genius, a
gene therapy that doesn’t actually alter the genes at all; a thing
of beauty.”

“But is it safe?” Sarah
persisted.

“Of course, of course... Here,
I’ll show you.” Gupta grabbed several sets of condiments and
arranged them on the table. “Here, normal DNA: four proteins CTG
and A in a double helix spiral. But what if we insert a third
strand, making a triple helix? This way we keep your original DNA
undamaged and use the third strand to add additional cell
functions. We know it can be done. Six’s DNA is already like this.
It is a truly elegant solution, and also totally reversible.”

“And will our fasting before
the drug trial be a problem?”

“No, it should not have any
bearing on the test.” replied Gupta “It is your choice of course,
but it really is quite safe.”

My next clear memory is of (I
guess) the next morning, walking nervously into a lab on the lowest
level of the Institute. It was a lab I’d not seen before. The main
feature of the room was six medical beds, each with a whole wall of
medical monitors behind them.

I walked over to one of the bed
and hopped up onto it, almost immediately my fingertips
tingled.

*Sixteen?*

*Yes*

*Did you meditate? Do you know
who you are?*

*Yes*
I replied,
thinking it odd that Ashlem believed that some stupid meditation
was more important than the not eating thing.

*I have generated as much
luck as I can Sixteen, it’s up to you now.*
His voice faded,
leaving me wondering how one went about ‘generating’ luck? In fact
the comment caused me to doubt everything Ashlem had said.

I returned my attention to the
room, noting that the others had each chosen a bed and were
standing next to them looking grim and tense. They might not have
believed Ashlem’s warning, but just now they were having second
thoughts.

“Lady and Gentleman,” announced
Dr Hart. “Dr Gupta tells me that he’s given you his
unscientific
explanation of what we are here to do.” The
emphasis on the word ‘unscientific’ seemed to be more about his
opinion of Gupta’s ability than our lack of knowledge.

“Ashlem thinks you’ve missed
something.” I said, bluntly

“Six? What could a streetscum
kid like him possibly know about genetics?” asked Hart
dismissively

I frowned. The man just
radiated arrogance. He didn’t just ‘think’ he was right; he ‘knew’
that he was, with a certainty that had no room for doubt.

“The genetic splice we will
inject is based upon the performance enhancing drug used by
Wraeththu gangs,” Hart explained. “You needn’t worry about
addiction. The original designer apparently intended it to impart a
permanent enhancement without any side effects. If we are
successful, we will have taken a giant leap toward a solution to
the fertility problem. We will be able to replace the damaged genes
with a single vaccination. I predict we’ll all get awards for
pioneering this research. Oh....” He paused impatiently. “I am
legally obliged to ask if any of you wish to back out.”