Project Tanellis

Chapter One: Number Eight

Harper peered into the tube, the fluffy pink gel slightly distorting the little shape inside. She chewed on the rubber end of her pencil and turned to look at the vitals on the various screens, ticking and beeping and blinking steadily. She scribbled them down in her notes.

Things were definitely going quicker than they had the last time- they'd gone through multiple specimens and had completely lost the majority of them in the previous trials. Either they didn't develop properly, they didn't develop at all or they died minutes after being extracted. The very last one they'd done, the one that had actually worked, would have met that exact same fate had they not put it back into the tube fast enough upon their first extraction attempt.

And now this one… Harper hated it when they died. Partly because it meant they were back to square one, partly because it was always a punch in the gut. Especially when they were so far in. This one- they were calling it Number Eight, since giving it a name before it was clear it would survive was never a great idea- was the only one they'd started for this project, unlike when they'd first done it and had multiple occupied tubes at a time. Since the other one had survived and seemed to be developing at a regular rate over the last two years, all of their attention had been there, rather than on creating new versions. Until now, anyway.

Either way, this was more of a test trial than anything else. They wanted to see how far they could get it to go with this particular strand of modified DNA, wanted to see if it would hold and grow as it should. As much as Harper hated them dying, they had almost entirely expected it to when they'd started. This was a new strand, very different from the other one, although perhaps if it went beyond expectations they'd be able to play hand in hand.

It was honestly a surprise to say that it had survived for so long- almost two whole months now. If it kept going like this, it might even develop entirely and maybe, just maybe, survive being extracted from the tube. Of course, she couldn't get her hopes up- they'd had a few that had survived past two months before something went wrong, and since this was still the first one of a new strand, it was very likely that it wouldn't make it much further. But Harper supposed they'd just have to wait and see.

She turned away from the tube and tucked Number Eight's files away for later, absently looping her black dreadlocks into a loose ponytail so that it wouldn't get in the way. Mevia was on the other side of the room, replotting a batch of various discoloured roses; they looked like they'd had the saturation sucked out of them.

"They seem healthy," she said, not looking up from her task, "Despite the odd colouring."

"Do you think it had something to do with the genetic coding?" Harper asked, making her way over and flipping through her notes. They should be in there somewhere… "What if we took her outside more?"

Mevia glanced at her out the corner of her eye, "She's perfectly healthy. Would it really affect much?"

"It might?" Harper stuck the rubber end of her pencil in her mouth again, brow furrowing, "She's always been drawn to sunlight as well."

Mevia hummed and slid the newly replotted flowers back into their spots on the table, sunlight beaming down on them through the glass directly above them. She glanced over at Number Eight.

"How's that one doing?"

"It's stable," Harper said, briefly scanning her notes, "Should be reaching the sixth stage… you can start to make out its head now too."

She showed her the two pictures she'd taken, one from two week ago and one from just now. The more recent one was noticeably bigger, but just slightly more developed. Mevia nodded and looped a tag around one of the branches of the plants.

"Maybe it'll survive first go," she said, "Then again, it wouldn't be that surprising if this one just happened to last longer than Number Zero… it's not like we're starting from scratch anymore."

"I know, I know," Harper waved her away, tucking the photos back into her notes. Mevia turned to face her properly and tugged the pencil out of her mouth, earning a sharp look that she promptly ignored.

"You're going to destroy all your pencils again," she said, "Where's your chew necklace?"

Harper snatched her pencil back and dug into the pocket of her lab coat, pulling the orange, somewhat egg-shaped chewie out by the string, "It's right here."

"Then use it," Mevia prodded her in the shoulder, before turning away to organise her own notes, "You got it for a reason, didn't you?"

Harper hummed, lips twitching. She poked the chewie between her teeth and returned her attention to the files. Under the likely event that Eight didn't make it past the sixth stage, they'd examine which vitals had failed and adjust accordingly, and reconstruct the DNA strands. If it actually makes it to the eight or ninth stage, they'll be able to properly see how its body is constructing with the genetic coding… and whether or not it would be better to terminate it. They'd had a few like that beforehand, mostly ones where things simply shouldn't have been where they were or weren't there entirely, because the coding just hadn't… fit right.

She shook herself. There was no point in thinking of those later stages when they weren't even sure if it would make it to the next one. They'd deal with it when they got there. If they got there.

The iron doors swung open and both Harper and Mevia looked up. Isa came in, cradling a newborn chick in her hands, the little thing peeping softly. It had a tiny little crown on its head.

"Isa," Mevia said, looking torn between unimpressed and bemused, "What're you doing?"

"She followed me out of the pen," Isa said, gently petting the little chick with a finger, "I only just noticed in the hall."

"And… the crown?" Harper asked around the chewie. Isa chuckled and held the chick up. It peeped.

"We're using them to distinguish the Eversources from regular chickens," she explained, "She looks like a tiny queen."

"Certainly," Mevia drawled, "Take her back to the mother before she tries to wander off or something. We don't need a baby chicken loose in the lab."

Isa shrugged and went back to petting the tiny yellow fuzz, "I'm thinking of calling her Benedict."

"What, like Eggs Benedict?" Harper asked. Isa paused.

"I… yes. Naturally. That was on purpose."

"Benedict's a boys name, Isa."

The three looked back at the doorway; Hadrian made his way inside, carrying a large box. Isa stepped out of the way so he could heft it onto a table. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so close minded," she said, "Why should names be gendered to begin with?"

Hadrian tugged the box open, Harper hurrying over to peer inside at the new equipment he'd brought. He started placing bags of redstone, vials, ingredients and various other bits and pieces out on the table. "Haven't you mentioned before that having a girl's name gives you euphoria?"

Isa shook her head, "That's different and you know it. When it seriously comes down to it, a name is just a name."

"If you say so."

"Besides," Harper butted in, letting her chewie fall around her neck and nudging Hadrian out of the way so she could rummage through the box better, uncaring of the exasperated look he shot her, "Isn't Isa unisx?"

"I think so," Isa said, smiling when the little chick nipped at her fingers, "But it's still euphoric to be called it."

"Well, fine, take Benedict back to her pen," Hadrian said, handing some redstone to Mevia for her to put away, "How'd she get out to begin with?"

"No clue," Isa said happily, starting to make her way out of the lab, "Maybe she's a little ninja."

"Well, if your 'little ninja' isn't careful, she'll get stepped on," Hadrian drawled. Harper elbowed him in the ribs.

"Don't be mean."

Isa carried Benedict through the hallways and back to the pen, where a mother hen was sitting in a batch of hay, surrounded by a tiny arm of fluffy yellow chicks. A select few were adorned with little crowns, much like Benedict's own.

She gently placed her back into the pen and the little chick went scurrying back to her mother, peeping excitedly. Isa laughed.

"Have they been fed yet?"

She glanced over her shoulder to find Otto heading towards her, carrying a bucket of purple water that was likely from Portal #102. She remembered that he'd mentioned wanting to examine it a bit more closely to see if there were any significant differences between their water, despite Mevia's insistence that it was a rather boring topic. Isa gave a nod.

"Yes, I did it not long ago. Do you think we'll be setting up a new portal soon?"

Otto shrugged, careful not to spill the odd water, "Possibly? Certainly sometime before the winter sets in. Speaking of, Cassie's grown out of her snow boots, so we're going to need to get her new ones."

Isa hummed, nodding. She faced him properly, leaning against the fence. "I think she needs glasses too. She's been squinting a lot whenever she's doing her reading."

Otto clicked his tongue thoughtfully, "I'll have Soren look into it. Is it your turn to cook dinner tonight?"

She shook her head, "Hadrian's. We're probably having pasta."

"I can live with that."

Number Eight was still alive. It was well into the seventh stage now, and its vital signs were still strong. Harper could almost make out a face when she looked close enough.

She tucked her chewie in her mouth, scribbling down notes. So far it was developing without any physical signs of altered code, but then again Number Seven had been exactly the same. It wasn't until after the successful extraction from the tube that anything… unusual by normal standards had started to show itself. For the first few days- weeks, even- upon extraction, it was almost like they hadn't altered any DNA at all.

So if anything, the lack of physical signs was good. So far, it looked like that when they eventually moved on to Number Nine, they wouldn't have to make too many changes to ensure its survival. It all depended on for just how much longer Eight lived for… and just what exactly would kill it.

There was a little tug at her trousers leg and Harper looked down, blinking. Cassie held up her sippy cup, her new glasses somewhat comically big on her little face ("She'll grow into them!" Soren had chirped happily, moments before they fell off Cassie's face and she almost stepped on them).

"S'empty," she said, and turned her sippy cup upside as though to demonstrate to her just how empty it was. Harper glanced around the lab, realised Otto had wandered off somewhere, and huffed a small sigh.

"Alright, alright," she set her notes aside and scooped up Cassie, tucking the toddler against her hip, "What you want in it? Apple juice?"

"C'anbe'ey."

"Cranberry, got it."

Harper adjusted her grip and carried her over to the little playmat that had been set up in the corner. There was a pen around it, there to stop her from wandering around the lab and poking her hands into things she shouldn't, but she'd reached the point where she could fiddle about with the hook and open the gate on her own- or, as they were quick to discover after Hadrian put a child lock on it, simply pull herself over the top of the pen entirely.

Thankfully, she seemed to have more of an interest in her toys and puzzles than wandering around the lab- for now, at least. They just had to make sure they kept a close eye on her whenever she was in here. Until they can figure out some other solution, anyhow.

Harper placed her back on the playmat and took the juice left off to the side on a counter, out of the way of any of the lab equipment or projects to avoid risk of contamination. She refilled her cup, twisted the lid back on and handed it to her; she was quick to put it to her mouth.

"Remember to stay with your toys, okay?" she said, glancing down at the puzzles she'd been playing with, "Where'd Otto go?"

Cassie babbled something completely incoherent around her sippy cup. Harper nodded as though she understood her entirely, before picking up one of her puzzles and flicking through it to see the score. She smiled.

It wasn't an overly complicated puzzle- a sort of sliding one that required you to do simple maths before the time limit ran out. They'd each had a go at it, with Harper ranking the highest, followed by Soren, Mevia, Hadrian, Isa and Otto- although all of them were at least slightly higher than the average person. Cassie's first few attempts had been small, but she got the hang of it quickly enough- and had almost beat Otto's score.

She set the puzzle back down. She wasn't sure if the man would be ecstatic or get a punch to his ego… probably a mix of both. Speaking of...

Harper patted Cassie's head and straightened, glancing towards the lab doors. They'd talked about not leaving Cassie unsupervised, especially in the lab… and it was weird that Otto of all people would just leave. Had he said something and she hadn't heard? Wouldn't be the first time. She supposed she'd have to ask him whenever he got back.

Blowing out a breath, she made her way back over to Number Eight's monitoring station, fiddling with the settings to distribute nutrients into the tube. There was a little knob jutting out of where its stomach would be, like a stub of an umbilical cord, sucking the nutrients from the gel-like liquid. Harper wasn't entirely sure on the details of how it worked- the grit of the biological aspects were more of Hadrian and Isa's side of things.

It wasn't too long after that Harper was finishing up. She packed away her notes, made sure Number Eight and its tube were secure, before heading over to Cassie to take her out of the lab. She was just thinking about how they should perhaps install a window near her playmat so she got some more sun when the lab doors opened and there was a swell of shouting voices.

"-can't just brush us off like that!"

"Oh, please, you're being overdramatic."

Isa moved in front of Otto, stopping him just in the doorway of the lab. It wasn't often Harper saw her look so angry; Cassie had glanced up from her puzzle, startled, as Isa jabbed her finger into Otto's chest.

"Do not call me overdramatic," she hissed, "He is not the only one in charge of these projects and you know fine well."

Otto sighed, "Alright, I'm sorry. He's just excited for this one, is all. He'll calm down eventually."

"Well, he better," Isa scowled, "Because I'm not taking that sort of crap from him."

"Whoa, whoa," Harper cut in, bending down to scoop up Cassie, "What happened?"

Isa huffed, crossing her arms, "Hadrian, Soren and I were developing Project Spawn and that goddamn grape decided to scrap my code before I was even finished with it. He acted like I didn't know what I was doing!"

Otto raised his hands slightly, "I'm sure he didn't mean it like that."

"Well, it certainly came off like that."

"Haddie!" Cassie said, rather proudly. Harper sighed.

"Okay, well, we'll tell him not to mess with other people's part of the project. Especially without talking with them."

Otto suppressed a grimace, "Yes… for the third time."

Isa groaned. Harper bounced Cassie slightly and slipped past the two, a bitter taste in the back of her mouth. She didn't want to deal with this again.

"I'm going to get Cassie her dinner."

"Did you know plants can and will eat meat?" Otto asked, trailing after; a still rather irritated Isa reluctantly followed, "It gives them nutrients."

"That's horrifying, Otto."

"Fascinatingly so!"

It was nearing the end of the eighth stage when their first major fight broke out.

They'd had fights before, of course, especially with how often they all tended to butt heads. But there was something different about this one. Maybe it was because of just how silly the trigger was- an offhand jab that wasn't anything out of their usual banter, and Harper couldn't even remember who had said it or what they'd said; it had all been drowned out by the resulting screaming match, snapped like a razor wire pulled too far, flinging back to tear at their skin. She was just glad Cassie had been playing outside when it happened.

Harper heaved a sigh, dragging a chair from one of the workbenches and plopping down in it next to Number Eight's tank. The little thing was moving, ever so slightly, in the fluffy pink gel. It looked only somewhat distorted behind that and the glass.

"They can be real jerks sometimes, can't they?" she mumbled, then chuckled to herself bitterly- whether at the lingering echoes of the argument or at the fact that she was talking to a practically dead-to-the-world growing specimen in a tub of jelly that wasn't going to make it to even a fraction of maturity. And a part of her still hated that, hated these experiments despite how intriguing and groundbreaking they were, despite how she loved Cassie and despite how exciting the whole thing was. Or rather… it was the beginning stages. Keeping things alive tended to be so.. so… fiddly. There was a reason Harper preferred to work with robotics.

At the very least, it wouldn't leave her talking to her projects whenever she's in a gloomy mood. She's not crazy enough to talk to machines just yet.

She sighed and slumped back in her chair. Maybe she'd grow numb to it, eventually.

Granted, she wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing.

Been working on this for a while! I've always wanted to explore the Old Builders some more... I can't promise consistent updates, but I hope you guys enjoy it ::)