Revolution World (3 page)

"But next time you do something brilliant, do it for the paying customers and not the charity cases," Harmony added severely. She was a scientist first; a businesswoman second; and a mother third. Somewhere way down at the bottom of the list, she was a lonely middle-aged woman.

"OK, gene nerds, what's a p-mod?" Kalliope asked with the thinning patience of one who loves gears and pumps, but grew up in a house full of people chattering about biology and genetics. She'd never been interested in their consuming passion and they'd never listened to hers. But they were family, so what can you do? Part of the reason Terpsi was the only married one was the tightness of their family unit. It was hard for others to break into such a close-knit family and even harder to find someone willing to try.

"The Peruvian monkeys were almost completely wiped out. They live in the cloud forests of Peru and those are pretty thin these days," Clio explained patiently to her sister. "We could barely capture enough to get a full genomic work-up. That is, a complete library of their DNA. We had a terrible time cloning the eggs to test in the lab and totally failed to splice up a variant that would breed in captivity."

Kalliope looked at her blankly. Harmony quickly interjected, "P-modding, short for phenotype modification, is what we call it when we introduce a change in the genes of an adult. Imagine your genes are like a book of recipes for your life. Your body reads the various recipes when it wants to make something. So to make changes to the book of their life, we first need to know what it says. That's a complete genomic work up. You remember? We talked about that before?" She paused and looked at Kalliope, who nodded.

So Harmony continued, "Usually splicers have to work with eggs or seeds and cultivate modified species from there. In other words, we change the story in their book of life before it's printed. P-modding is trying to change the story of an individual who has already been born. That is, whose genetic book has already been printed. It's technically difficult, but not totally impossible. You see what I'm saying?"

Kalliope nodded slowly. "So your DNA is the recipe book for your life. It's easy to edit the book before it's printed, but really hard after it's been printed. Got it. Why is that? Because it will damage the book? Or just come out as nonsense?"

Clio gave her sister a big grin. After only a quarter of a century, some of it was finally sinking in. "Exactly. If it damages the book, who knows what happens? Usually something bad like cancer or heart attack. If it comes out as nonsense, your body will just ignore those pages. That's what usually happens. Nothing, in other words."

She gave her sister a minute to think about that as her mind wandered to the pollution fish in the Aquatics lab that she was developing for the Great Lakes. Clio just loved her job. She remembered how frustrated she'd been with the monkeys.

"So how did you do the p-mod in the monkeys then? What did you change?" asked Kalliope.

"I ended up modifying the genes of a fruit that wild monkeys loved to eat. The fruit produced chemicals and proteins that caused the desired changed in the adult monkeys. Plus, let's just say their libido got juiced up. Which made for a population explosion. They were able to survive at lower altitudes and eat a wider variety of foods." Clio thought it was funny that she had produced the primate equivalent of a goat. The spliced monkeys could and would eat almost anything.

The result was wild adult monkeys that reached maturity faster and produced more babies. Usually any changes you could manage to make to an adult were not likely to be passed on to their babies, but Clio had some techniques that ensured the babies possessed the same ability to grow up quickly and make lots of babies. The resulting population explosion brought the monkeys back from the brink of extinction.

Clio was now working on a subspecies that could be more easily raised in captivity. Those were the monkeys that the intruders took. Clio had added a few changes to the fruit that resulted in a greater proliferation of the Peruvian cloud forests as well.

Clio had slightly changed a few of the proteins in the fruit to break down as they passed through the monkey's digestive tract. The digested proteins enriched the local soil dramatically. Now monkey manure, by the pound, was worth more than gold in Peru. All in all, she was pretty proud of that project.

Harmony began pacing. "Gene research is so secretive now, it's hard to know where the other splicers are. The private labs don't publish their results for fear of a competitor using their own research to get an edge. The government has snatched anyone worth anything at university labs for their never-ending war projects and everything those guys even think about is classified. And that's assuming any of them have the funding or the brains to do anything really interesting in the first place. Maybe someone really did want the p-mod technique and thought this was an easy way to get it," Harmony concluded, turning to her daughters.

"But why would they get all in a lather about a primate splice? There are so few primates left and none of them are really commercially viable. I mean, there's not much you can do with primates that results in a profit," said Clio.

"Flinging poo and scratching fleas never did make anyone rich," laughed Kalliope.

"Humans are primates. Maybe they want to use the splice on humans," said Terpsi.

"Don't be silly. Human gene modification is so illegal it isn't even funny," Clio scoffed.

"If the war project labs had a useful p-mod technique like that, they'd use it to make zombie soldiers and human bombs and god knows what else. Do you think anyone in the military really cares about what the UN thinks is legal or illegal?" Terpsi asked. She had a point.

"Heck, it sounds like they could cause gene mutations in people through food with that technique thingy of yours. They could modify people who weren't even aware of what was going on. There are a lot of people in our government who would find some mighty nasty uses for that kind of tool," Kalliope exclaimed.

Clio scowled. Everything she did could be used for cruel purposes. She hated it, but it was something she'd come to terms with long ago. "Even with my notes, it would be difficult to take a technique that worked with monkeys and apply it to people. And that's assuming they could understand my notes," Clio replied.

"Back to the original issue," said Harmony. "Anyone with the power or money to get access to our lab like this could just have broken into our network to get the technique. So why didn't they?" She looked around the room as if the answer might be written on the walls.

Clio blushed and stammered. "I didn't upload my notes. It was laziness." The other women smiled, but didn't laugh. They knew Clio was monomaniacal about her work, but didn't care about much else.

"So let's say they wanted the p-mod. They must have gotten someone with access to help them. Even with all the money in the world to break the locks, they couldn't know exactly where Clio kept those notes unless they'd been here before. That's the scariest part." Harmony tried to maintain a brisk, business-like attitude. "Ruling out everyone still hanging around in the parking lot right now, we only have a handful of likely suspects for betrayal. I'll get working on that."

"It was lucky I was here tonight," remarked Clio.

Harmony gave an unladylike snort. "It was lucky you weren't shot."

At this point, Terpsi finally stopped scanning Clio with her palm-sized diagnoser. "So they came to steal a technique. Why take the monkeys and the notes? Why not just scan the notes into a handheld? It would take like five minutes and then no one would ever know they'd been here."

"I think that was the plan," Clio replied. "Only I was here and caught them. Oh, and the
Lepus
bunnies attacked them." She did not explain that her horrible handwriting had kept the intruders from figuring out exactly what they needed to steal. She could only hope that, however embarrassing, it might also keep the thieves from using the notes they had taken with them.

"So they panicked and grabbed everything they thought they might need. Then the rabbits freaked them out so they shot up the place. And that's fair. Those rabbits freak everybody out, Clio," Terpsi looked at her sister severely. She was, of the family, the most realistic. The other sisters secretly called her 'the grouchy one.'

"So then. Who would want it? Who would do this?" Terpsi really wanted to resolve this and get back to bed. Her kids were going to wake her up again in five hours.

Harmony and Clio looked glum. "Rival companies, foreign governments, our government," Clio answered.

"We have no idea," Harmony concluded. "But at least we should be able to find who our turncoat is."

"If it happened once, we should expect more." Kalliope chimed in decisively. "I'll start looking into better security systems. We'll have to hire out for most of that. I never could get into the digital stuff. If they are after information, then it's a tech company that we'll need."

Harmony cleared her throat significantly and paused. "Just so I understand clearly. There wasn't anything they might have noticed in the lab that they shouldn't? There wasn't anything they took or anything about those monkeys that might indicate that you have certain hobbies, shall we say, that the government would frown upon?"

The girls looked at each other. They knew what their mother was talking about, but didn't want to break their mother's continued policy of ignorance.

"They didn't take anything or see anything that would indicate that Floracopia engages in illegal activities," Clio replied carefully. "But if they had spent a little more time, they might have gotten the impression that some of our projects were not strictly legitimate."

Harmony tapped her fingers against a table and frowned. She looked for a minute like she might embark on one of her epic lectures, but then she just sighed and rubbed her temples.

"We are definitely going to need better security. And maybe move some of your less justifiable work to a different lab," she gave her daughters a steely look.

"Oh, this is all so stupid." Clio cried in exasperation. "If they could afford to break in and they wanted it that badly, why didn't they just try to buy it from us? Or if it was the government, why not just demand we give it to them? Both of those would have probably worked."

"And that's the big question," Harmony sighed and ran her hand through her straight brown hair. "Well, we won't solve the problems of the world tonight, girls. Let's wrap this up and try to get some sleep."

They gently ushered all the excited police and worried friends out into the dark, but none of them got any real sleep that night.

Clio was completely exhausted once she got back home. She owned a snug cabin on fifty acres of untouched Edwards Plateau woodlands just behind the lab. She didn't think anything could keep her awake. Just before she drifted off, she remembered something she forgot to tell her family. Four of her rabbits were missing. Since they couldn't possibly have been carried off, they must have gotten loose.

As anyone who has ever thought too hard about the Fibonacci sequence will tell you, four rabbits can do a lot of damage in a short amount of time. Clio didn't sleep for a week after that.

CHAPTER THREE

T
wo men sat in the sleek hovercar, mesmerized by the sight of a shabby diner in the middle of nowhere. The hovercar was a shiny black teardrop, quietly bobbing above the dirt parking lot as the men peered through the darkly polarized windows. They took in the dented pick-up trucks in the parking lot with their obviously secondhand biomass retrofits. They observed the peeling paint on the dingy sign that optimistically proclaimed: "Best cow you can git in yer mouth!" They were utterly depressed.

"We've found hell, Seth," said the older man. The younger man said nothing, but in the way that you do if you don't want to agree but secretly believe the other person is right. He looked at the diner as if hoping it would suddenly turn into a five-star sushi restaurant.

The two men were both tall, thin and very pale. They both had dark hair and dark eyes and could have been any age from twenty to fifty. Even if they weren't in a hovercar, they were very obviously not from around here.

"No," the older man corrected himself, "We are in Texas. I think I'd rather be in hell."

Seth Boucher smiled as he began rummaging behind his seat, "Don't be so melodramatic, Max. You just need to eat."

Max rolled his eyes and began brushing dust off his comfortable, but obviously expensive, outfit. "What I need is a glass of champagne, a four-course meal cooked by an actual French person, and a five-star spa where beautiful women rub my feet until I forget Texas even exists. Why on earth did I let you talk me into this trip? We are programmers. We sit in dark rooms. Dark, cool rooms with comfortable chairs and pleasant people who bring us food. We don't do the scouting trips. You told me this would be a vacation."

This was delivered in a glum monotone. Seth could tell Max was working hard not to whine.

"I told you this would be an adventure," Seth corrected him. "You cannot deny it has been very different and very interesting."

Max sniffed elaborately. "I had no idea you hated me this much."

Seth just smiled, found his handheld, and touched it on. Max smiled slightly as Seth carefully lined up his handheld and took a picture of the diner. He wanted proof that the overly refined Max had actually eaten in such a place.

"Look over there. I think that is a real, live tumbleweed," Max pointed for Seth's benefit.

"Are tumbleweeds alive?" Seth wondered aloud as he obligingly took a picture.

Max pulled his own handheld out of the slot in the dashboard and tapped away at it. "No, apparently not. Well, on the bright side, this is the last horrific little town to check out before we may shake the dust of Texas from our feet and never return. Are you sure you don't want to just give up and go home now?" Max eyed Seth hopefully.

"My dear uncle, we came here to investigate new sites for a server farm. You know why Texas is a desirable location for us. Even though it does seem as though everyone here hates us on sight. Even though they made it clear that they find the idea of our business moving here repulsive, we must try to find a way for this to work. We must at least look at this last town, Ambrosia Springs."