Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (26 page)

We all looked nervous.

“You should know that if you
exercise your right to refuse treatment, your contract will be
terminated, without prejudice” Hart continued.

I assumed that ‘without
prejudice’ meant if anyone did back out, they’d be blacklisted and
doomed to a life of poverty in the gang-infested slums. Not exactly
a great choice, that.

“Please sign these release
papers and we’ll get started,” added one of Hart’s assistants.

Lacking much else to do, I
focused my attention on the dark liquid in the syringes; it seemed
that each of us was being injected with a progressively larger
dose. Paul would receive the smallest infusion, whilst I was going
to get the largest. Finally, it was my turn. The syringe was
inserted into my arm and the entire vial of blood was pushed into
me.

At last, I allowed myself to be
scared. No, scared isn’t a strong enough word: ‘terrified’… I was
fucking terrified. The stuff was in me now and I had to hope that
Ashlem was right

*It’s started?*

*Yes*

*Then it’s time for you to know
the rest. In an ideal world this would have been explained. But I
couldn’t risk ‘Them’ knowing. There is no easy way to say this,
they’re giving you my whole DNA, not just parts they think they’ve
isolated.*

*?*

*You’re not going to be male
anymore*

*WHAT?!*

*You’ll be like me, a
hermaphrodite.*

*No!*

*Calmly Sixteen, this is the
ultimate gift, absolutely not a handicap*

Once again the advantage of
telepathic honesty came to Ashlem’s aid. His last statement was
wrapped in that emotion of utter certainty. The being called Ashlem
har Unneah was utterly certain that what I was about to become was
better than male, by several orders of magnitude.

Even so, the fact remained that
I was in the process of being turned into a genderless mule, unable
to....do things.

Ashlem’s mental laughter, as
gentle as a caress cut through my panic. *We Wraeththu look after
our own Sixteen, you will never be outcast. And you aren’t losing
your gender, you’re gaining a superior one*

I started to hyperventilate and
sweat. It might have been the genetic splice kicking in, but if I’m
honest, it was probably just good old-fashioned fear... No matter
how Ashlem dressed it up, I was fucked.

“Feeling ok?” asked Paul

“Yeah, I’m just scared” I
replied, irrationally unwilling to discuss what I’d just
learned.

“See, it was just Six messing
with your head, like we said,” added Salil

“You think?” Sarah said. “Look
at your arm.”

Salil’s arm looked like someone
had taken a paintbrush and painted fake blood vessels in a dark
bruised red. I looked at my own right arm; the veins were already
inflamed, bulging so that they looked like ivy wrapped around a
tree trunk. So fast! My heart hammered in my chest.

“Clever, clever, clever,”
muttered the Dr. Hart. “The adrenalin levels are way up. The first
generation of converted cells is creating it, telling Specimen 16’s
heart to beat faster ensuring that the serum reaches every part of
the body quickly.”

“Oh… great!” I gasped
sarcastically. “Are you... going to... do a... fucking... running
commentary?”

“Specimen 16 is exhibiting mild
levels of distress, accompanied by adrenaline-induced aggression.”
said Dr. Hart, speaking into a recorder.

“Screw you too!” I snarled

Across the room, I could see
the others watching me and looking fearful. Jeaki, Salil and Sarah
had all begun to sweat; the other two seemed to still be ok.

“Specimens 13 through 16 also
show signs of heightened adrenal activity,” Hart continued. “No
reaction from 11 and 12. Presumably the serum dosage was too low to
initiate cellular integration.”

“You… don’t even... know… the
correct dosage... do you?” hissed Jeaki

“Dosage is one of the test
parameters,” replied Hart as if it were obvious.

For the next few hours things
went on about the same. With the exception of Paul and Calvin, we
were all feeling pretty uncomfortable; but if I was honest, it was
not really any worse than any of the fevers I’d had as a child. We
kept each other’s spirits up with bad jokes and anecdotes.

And then Sarah died.

It happened suddenly, one
minute she was like the rest of us, panting and sweating, heart
racing, the next she clutched at her head, and a single gout of
blood spurted from her nose. To be fair, Hart’s team were on her in
seconds, one shining a light in her eyes, one keeping her upright
so that the blood didn’t choke her, and another checking the EEG
sensor readouts.

“No good, she’s gone,” said one
of the assistants. “No brain activity, no pulse.”

For the first time that I’d
known him, Hart had the decency to look worried. Although I
suspected that it was worry about losing the International Awards
that he’d promised himself, rather than Sarah’s condition.

We Specimens just sat there in
shock, not moving, not speaking, trying not to think.

The next thing I recall is
hearing the doctors arguing. Clarke was saying that he’d warned
Hart, Gupta was showing concern for our safety, while Hart argued
that Sarah must have had an undetected physiological condition that
Clarke had missed.

Finally Director Calcutt walked
into our room and took a look at us for himself.

“Flush the serum. Full blood
replacement. Stat. You’ve obviously missed something.” He ordered
“Gupta, take charge here. Hart... my office.”

Someone cheered weakly; it
might even have been me.

Immediately there was a bustle
of activity as intravenous feeds were wheeled in and hooked up,
along with a second line fed to an empty plastic blood-bag.

My energy levels dropped about
then, and I lay limply on my bed not really caring about anything
that was going on. At some point the curtains had been drawn,
leaving me feeling that I was floating in a sickly green limbo.

“Sixteen? Can you hear me?”
asked Dr Gupta

“Yes” I replied, somewhat
irritated.

“How are you feeling? Have your
symptoms eased at all since the blood transfusion?”

“You’ve finished?” I asked in a
wavering voice.

Gupta frowned and turned to one
of the nursing assistants. “Have someone run a DNA marker check on
the last bag of drained blood from each of them. I want to know the
percentage of hybridized blood cells remaining.”

“What....killed… Ssr..uh?” I
asked

“Specimen 13 had a stroke. Her
blood pressure spontaneously doubled; we’ve never seen anything
like it. Thankfully she didn’t suffer.”

I closed my eyes again.
Basically her brain had exploded.

The sound of the curtains
drawing back roused me again, this time all of the doctors were
present. I glanced around at the others, they were all lying flat
out, although Paul and Calvin were propped up and seemed slightly
more energetic.

Gupta sighed before he
addressed us. “I’m sorry to tell you that the blood replacement
failed to flush out the hybrid DNA. The replacement blood was being
hybridised almost as soon as it entered your bodies. I have
reviewed Dr Hart’s notes and I am ashamed to say that his research
has not been as rigorous as I had been led to believe. Bluntly, we
do not know what outcome to expect.”

“Ashlem does... Get him up
here.” I replied

Gupta glanced at Calcutt, who
shook his head firmly.

“At least ask him! You don’t
have to let him out.” snapped Jeaki from the next bed.

Calcutt nodded once, his face
grim.

With the ‘big announcement’
done, our curtains were drawn again and I was back in the light
green limbo. Some time later a message came to me from Ashlem.

*Sixteen, Jeaki*

*Yes?*
I sent, finding
that I was getting more adept at this form of communication.

*I’ve had a visit from those
ghouls. I’ve told them nothing. If you’ve done as I told you and
know your inner ‘self’ you should come through intact.*

*How. Much. Longer?* I sent

*As little as two days, as many
as ten*

*Fuck!* I sent.

*I’m here for all of you, never
forget that; it will be ok*

“Am I still human?” I gasped,
half jokingly.

“Actually no,” replied Hart.
“Every cell in the last tissue sample was hybridised. You’ll be
pleased to know that your adrenaline levels are reverting to
normal. In fact your cells are now beginning to generate the RNA
analogue I had predicted at the outset. I’d say your body is
getting ready enter a phase of rapid cell division.”

“Like... Sarah?” I gasped

“We know what to look for now,”
interrupted Gupta. “We can regulate that if it becomes a
problem.”

My growth spurt started about
fifteen minutes later. I started to swell up like someone who’s
allergic to bee stings… what’s the word? annapha-something shock..
My fingers became so thick that I couldn’t form a fist. I wanted to
scream, but my throat was constricted, swollen shut.

For the first and only time Dr.
Hart was useful. Forcing my mouth open, he shoved a breathing tube
down my throat and strapped it in place. After that I lost interest
in everything beyond the sensations running through the cocoon that
was my inflamed and apparently rotting carcass.

The shards of memory become
tiny crystal daggers at that point, just a series of disturbing
doctor-speak punctuating the excruciating pain.

“Body mass at 189%....”

“Second generation white blood
cells appear to be attacking the hybridised human cells. Get me a
readout on this tumour’s DNA.”

“We’re losing another one! Damn
it, his major intestine is perforating. Where’s that DNA
analysis?”

“Rapid onset, acne and eczema,
vomiting and continued incontinence of both types, including
haemorrhagic traces. Speculation: the specimen’s body is rejecting
and expelling any remaining unaltered cells.”

“The new DNA hasn’t stayed in
the third strand; I’m seeing V and W proteins blended into all
three spirals, exactly like Specimen Six’s original DNA.”

“I want a complete autopsy on
Twelve. Check his brain, Stat!”

“Specimen 16 appears to be
progressing faster than the others, probably due to the higher
initial dose. Get him to CT, I want to know what to expect in the
other two.”

And finally

“What the fuck! What is that
growing in his abdomen? That’s no tumour, it has a differentiated
structure!”

I don’t remember hearing
anything after that. I do remember a knife-like pain ripping my
crotch apart like I’m being unzipped with a chainsaw. Any hope that
Ashlem had lied fled in that terrible instant.

*Remember your Self*

I dreamed that I was falling
through space toward a lake covered in a flock of birds.

I felt as if I were under
scrutiny, I wasn’t expected, I hadn’t been announced. He reached
out His hand anyway, and everything that had felt strange now felt
‘right’. I was euphoric, it would be so easy just to stay that way,
infinitely happy for infinity, but Ashlem’s words leapt back at me.
This, I thought, was why I’d been warned to hold onto my ‘self’,
this was what Hart and the others would never understand… this was
a trap.

You didn’t have to just survive
the pain; you had to survive its seductive absence as well!

When I awoke I found that I was
curled up on my own bed, in the apartment. My cheeks were wet, I’d
been crying in my sleep I guess. I didn’t hurt anymore, not at all.
The first thing I noticed was that the sound of the air
conditioning had changed. Along with the steady hum that I’d become
used to, was an annoying ultra-high pitched whine. Enhanced senses!
A long, long, time ago someone had boasted that their super-serum
would enhance the senses.

I opened my eyes; it was a
revelation. I hadn’t realized that there was anything wrong with my
eyesight before that moment. Things in the distance had always been
slightly blurry. Today I could see the speck of rust on the
screw-head of the door hinge from the other side of the room.

Hair flopped into my eyes. I
swept it out of the way. It felt softer, silky and more voluminous,
definitely not the stringy mess I’d grown up with.

My heart froze, recalling
Ashlem’s affliction and his prediction about my fate. With a surge
of energy, I rolled off the bed and stood up, feeling wonderfully
normal. I didn’t yet perceive the other changes, the ones I didn’t
want to think about. I allowed myself to believe, just for a moment
that Ash really had been wrong and that fuck-wit Hart had somehow
detected and removed that part of the gene splice.

As I got to my feet, my robe
fell open. Everything down below had felt perfectly natural and
normal; as a result I nearly died of shock when I looked down at
my...at my what? The old friend I’d kept between my legs was gone,
replaced with something more complex, sort of like fleshy petals
that spiralled together to form an approximation of what had
been.

I tried to be disgusted, but
clearly ‘it’ came with a full set of instinctive software, all I
could think was how beautiful the new organ looked. Tentatively I
touched it with a finger...it was very pleasurable and almost
painfully sensitive. I snatched my finger away. The rush of
conflicting emotions was too great.

I slumped back on the bed and
let the tears roll down my cheeks, until finally I got irritated
with myself for being such a baby. I tried one of the meditation
techniques I’d been taught, trying to dampen the emotion; it worked
better than I’d expected, I felt a wave of calmness and passivity
flow through me, and suddenly my beautiful/hideous new rod revealed
the reason for its complexity, unravelling and retracting into an
alternate configuration.

I sat up and looked down at
myself; it was not unlike a woman’s ...parts. The real strangeness
was that all of this, this, flexibility of function felt natural. I
tried thinking about ‘before’, and found that I couldn’t remember
how it had felt. In the end I closed my eyes, folded my arms and
tried thinking about something non-sexual (and failed).