Chapter 16: Lamarck Catalyst
Royce saw it all. He took it all in. He heard Diana and Kristoff's conversation in the plane, the unheeded warning to Cho and Ishigami. He saw the crash. The blue fire in the creature's eyes. Her fractured leg. Kristoff's last stand, his mutilated body- and his last wish.
She saw the way he left Ria, the control room, the view of the world from low Earth orbit. She felt his fear - his heartache and his trembling fingers as he piloted the Crane down the burning sky. His panic when he landed, only to see the girl he longed for pointing a gun at his co-pilot's head. The crack of the twin sonic booms as the orbital round struck its target and the bullet struck his friend. She felt his burning anger and confusion.
The world returned to focus and the green tunnel receded before his eyes.
He released her neck and tumbled down off the crashed Sunbirds' nose onto the charred ground where he came face to face with the ruined visage of his late co-pilot. A small gray patch stood out on his torn and bloodied flight suit:
Kristoff Zinoviev, No. 326
Pilot Lieutenant, U.N.F.
Once we die, all we'll be is a statistic. A number. It won't matter what we were called.
But those numbers will remain. Like whispered fading rumors.
Icebergs in an endless sea of time.
He blinked at his dead friend's one remaining wide open eye.
On his blasted face there was an expression, not of shock, or of pain, but of calm.
He closed his own eyes and shut out the horrid scene he could no longer forget.
Ishigami stared down at a white pyramidal object the size of a small car. It was chained to the ground within Ash Cloud's Tracer construction yard, Oakheart.
A round circular hole in the object leaked black tangled cords and purple fluid from one of its facets.
"We left the head there, just like you asked." Balman spoke to him from the edge of the massive concavity.
"Thank you. Please find Ria and Royce, and tell Hachi to approve Prototype Two for activation. Set it for ninety percent attenuation."
"Yes sir," the man scuttled away.
He took a step off the edge and floated down towards the object. Little gobs of purple liquid suspended in microgravity splashed his collared shirt. He didn't care. The head no longer had a body.
This is my only chance. My only chance to communicate with them. This has to work.
He grasped a detonator in one hand.
A hollow thud resounded through the whispering gallery as his magnetized boots grabbed onto the cold metal ground.
He stood next to the Tracer's head, holding the dead-man's switch with one hand and reaching out for the wound with his other.
He touched the black sinewy cords and felt movement grasp his fingers.
Rings of distortion gripped his vision.
"I'm here to talk!" he yelled.
"We do not negotiate with primitive lifeforms."
"We have a common enemy. The Klaxosaurs."
"They are no more than an annoyance to us. Their collectivist presence on your insignificant world poses no threat to us. You humans are far more dangerous."
"We can negotiate."
"We require nothing but your destruction; we will accept only your integration."
"The Klaxosaurs are attacking again. We've captured your units. If you don't help us, we'll come for you next. They'll come for you next."
"Our Tracers are a living power which die without their root. You cannot separate the intentions of the creator from the instruments of their creation. If you wish to use our tools- you must adopt our will."
"If that's what's required to save my people. I'll bear it."
"Then prepare yourself-"
A soothing calm wrapped him. He felt warm and comfortable and sated.
"Commander Ishigami! Tracer Prototype Two is ready for activation; they've set the limiters at ninety percent. But, sir - Ria is refusing to fly. And Royce is gone. I ran a full scan and he's not on the station!"
"Reset the attenuators to zero, and prepare my Tracer suit."
"Commander- what? Zero attenuation? Are you-"
"Do it."
He released the detonator switch. There was a sharp hollow pop and shards of white metal flew out in every direction. A tangle of black sinew wrapped around his arms and legs. Purple goo flung into his eyes.
He laughed. He couldn't stop laughing.
"Sir- are you-"
"Disregard-" he laughed, "disregard that, Balman. Just reset the Tracer. I don't need a suit."
Finally. It's finally mine. And so- they really are- oh goodness. Oh goodness this is too much. I suspected but I never knew. Oh thank you, kind benefactors. Thank you for your wisdom.
You are welcome, friendly ape. Now go, and do your duty – bring your people the blessings of our love.
"Darling-"
"Please wake up."
He felt a light gentle touch on his face. A hand rested on his cheek. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.
A lurch jostled him awake and he wanted to yell for help.
"It's okay- we're moving."
She was lying next to him. Her arm around his chest. Both of them were lying on cold canvas gurneys in the back of a small covered truck.
He saw her hand on his cheek and her mesmerizing emerald eyes staring back at him. A red stain ran down her face which seemed, somehow, to only intensify her beauty rather than detract from it.
He thought it was, perhaps, because her beauty lay in the mystery of her rather than her physical form. The call of the void, the beckoning charm of an abyss with no bottom.
"Where are we? What happened?" He sat up.
"Khanian medics picked us up. They're taking us to Andross." She rolled onto her back, staring up at the covered roof of the truck. Grey slices of dawn spilled through gaps in the flapping canvas.
"Khanians?"
"Don't worry. They said they'll get us on a flight back to Serilona."
"But- they were the ones."
"I know. I don't trust them. Then again- I don't trust anyone."
"Your leg- Are you okay? "
She reached down for her leg, then smiled.
"It's fine. I heal quick."
"What about Kristoff?"
She nodded at a long black bag lying next to the front bulkhead.
He rested his head on the hard metal floorboards.
It's over. It was real.
"Why are you sad?" she turned to look at him. He couldn't stand to return her gaze. "It's what he signed up for, isn't it? He died doing what he loved." Her voice reflected a tone curiosity rather than sadness or compassion.
He felt a hand with long fingers on his cheek and he pushed it away.
"Just- leave me alone. I-"
"I'm sorry- you just looked like- you were in pain."
"I am in pain! Don't you get it? The pain is necessary. You don't feel anything?"
She was silent.
How can I ever look at her again? When every time I do- I think about… him. And what she did.
But then again- did she really do anything wrong? Would I have refused? Would I have done anything differently? Can I really hate her for doing what he asked?
He noticed a light pressure on his head and felt the white plastic of the transceiver pressing into his temples. He gently peeled it off.
"How is it possible? Why did we link minds before if I never got the therapy? Did you hear me just now? Can you hear my thoughts when I have this on?"
"I wasn't paying attention."
"How does it work?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
She was silent.
"Do you even care," he asked her.
"I care about getting to Ash Cloud. There's something very important I need to find there. You're a transport pilot. You can fly the Crane. Now that Ria is out of the picture, you can take me there."
Am I just a tool for her? A tool to be discarded? Like her transceiver, like her plane or her co-pilots?
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"I don't expect you to forgive me for hurting Kristoff,"
"There's nothing to forgive. I wouldn't have done anything different."
"Well then, if you help me get to Ash Cloud. I promise-" She lightly bit one of her fingers between lips and smiled at him.
The gesture unnerved him.
"Would you stop trying to do- that? This isn't the time."
"Why? You aren't interested in me?"
"It's not that- I just- My friend is in a body bag right there! Two feet away! Can't you just-"
"I thought you forgave me?"
"That's not the point, I-"
There was a sudden jolt. Gravel crunched under tires below, and the truck came to a stop. Confusion came flooding back over him.
"There's something I have to know." She said hurriedly.
"What?"
The back of the truck opened to reveal two men in black uniforms. Blue sheathed swords hung from their belts.
"Get up." One of them commanded. "The council requests your presence."
"Wait!" She swatted at them.
They grabbed her gurney and slid her out of the truck. They grabbed him next.
"Oh come on, guys. We just saved your city from that giant monster. Can't you cut us a little slack!"
"Get up."
He scrambled to his feet. He noticed how unbelievably dirty he was. His white pajama cooling jacket was half stained with brown dirt and coagulated blood.
Diana's red, skin-tight suit was torn in a dozen places, stained with hydraulic oil from the plane. A lone insulated wire with a frayed copper bur clung to her back like a remora.
They stood facing a large sandstone structure, hemispherical in shape. Above its door was a frieze carved with a scene of two demons, a male and a female locking horns.
Ishigami peered up two long white spires which pierced the vast dome above him.
He stepped toward the elevator doors plastered with caution tape and pinned his badge to the console. The steel doors slid apart and he took the tram all the way up.
At last he came to the pinnacle. He stood before a room which reeked of bleach. His eyes stung as he blinked them.
A gigantic display wrapped around the room like a window. Around him was a ghostly lake cloaked in fog with dead black trees simmering in the witches cauldron.
Seven large spires, like metal branches of a golden tree stood erect around an orange hologram in the center of the room. A pattern of orange blocks floated up and down in the air. Discarded metal masks laid on the ground, encased with some kind of clear resin and plastered with yellow warning stickers and caution tape.
A low mist hung at the bottom of the room which swirled around his ankles as he made his way toward the tallest chair. Like a preying mantis the gigantic stick came to life and bent down as he approached, scooping him up in its claw.
He waved his hand and conjured up a line to Alban who stared back at him with wide open eyes.
"Ishigami- what's happened to your face?"
"Never mind that, Doctor Stein- never mind at all. I need your skills once again."
"Oh?"
"Can you create a version of the optogenetic therapy that's- transmissible?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I suppose it's possible, but why would you want such a thing?"
"It is necessary to defeat them. My purposes will become clear soon."
"I'll- think about it."
"Alban, do you understand what's at stake here?"
"I do."
"Then please think quickly."
He heard the hiss of an elevator. Black doors slid open to reveal the figure of a seated woman wearing a floral shawl.
"Commander Ishigami! What do you think you're doing up there! The Lamarck spire has been quarantined since the first expedition! Get down from there immediately! Do you have any idea-"
"I have more ideas than you know- Elder Nana."
Do it now, she is unwatched. This is your only chance.
He lowered his seat to the ground and produced a thin knife from the root-like purple cords tangled around his body.
"Wait- what's that! What are you doing?"
He stepped off the seat and readied the dagger, grasping the handle of her wheelchair.
"Consecrating the sacred tree." He glared at her through violet stained eyes.
A voice spoke to his mind: They will fear you. Fear leads to obedience. You will be greater than the apes long ago. You are the catalyst.
He plunged the dagger into her chest.
"Pa-pa?" she stammered.
He whispered to her. "Papa was merely a harbinger. I am the catalyst- humanity's ascension is at hand."
"Ria! Come out of there! We have an urgent- ugh."
The incessant banging on her door stopped abruptly.
"Ria," said a calm voice of an elderly woman. "Would you please open the door? It's me."
She got up and walked to the door and unlocked it.
Elder Ikuno sat in her wheelchair next to an unconscious man lying on the ground. She held a small black box in her hand. The man on the ground wore a white robe. It was Balman.
"What the-"
"Would you let me in? We need to talk."
"Uh- sure." She stepped aside and locked the door after her.
"I know you've been through a lot in the last few days, but I'm afraid I need your help again."
"What is it?"
"Nana's been murdered. It was Ishigami."
"What?"
"He's taken over the APE command center and he's holed-up there. He's got a Tracer standing in the middle of Ash City guarding the tower. We can't get near it."
"He's gone rogue?"
"It appears so."
"What do you need from me," she lowered her head. "You want me to get in that thing again?"
"I can't make you do anything. It's your decision. Unlike the Serilonans or the Khanians, we don't treat people that way."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you know what they do to their pilots? You know why they never ask questions about their world, right? Why they take everything as given and immutable?"
"Project Torikago."
"Yes, that's right- optogenetic control. The Serilonans control what their pilots are allowed to think. But I suppose, in the U.N.F. we're just as bad. We control what you're allowed to learn. And right now you need to learn know why Ishigami's doing what he's doing."
"Wait- what? Hold on."
"Ishigami feels it's necessary to make a deal with an ancient collective known as the VIRM, because there's only around ten million people left on Earth. They're clustered in a dozen city-states around the globe, in the few patches of arable land still above sea level. The human population is limited by food supply, and since most of the soil isn't farmable, our food supply is limited by energy. Without the Plantation-era magma reactors, energy is in short supply.
"That monster destroying a city- it's a terrible thing. Many will starve. And there aren't many cities left. Ishigami knows this. He's obsessed with giving humanity, or at the very least, Serilona- a fighting chance. And he's willing to do whatever it takes. He feels that the VIRM are less of a threat than the Klaxosaurs. But he's wrong, and this time I fear he's gone too far."
She stumbled back onto the hard poly bed behind her. "What?"
"That's why we only show you bits and pieces, and not the whole world itself. The reason there are so few people here on Ash Cloud. It's because there are so few people, period. It's the one problem I couldn't solve in all my years here. Have you heard of the term: minimum viable population?"
She stared back at Ikuno with fearful eyes: "No…"
The kind old woman rested her hands on her wheelchair's armrests and averted her gaze.
"Well, it's the minimum number of individuals you need to avoid inbreeding and genetic drift. We only had about twenty unique individuals at the end of the second Holocene extinction.
"We needed somewhere between five hundred and five thousand. Fertility rates have been low. Terribly low. We had to resort to…undesirable solutions."
She scrambled back on the bed, cowering from the truth she could barely stand to hear. "No! No I don't want to hear any more!"
"We had a large bank of DNA from the parasite project, and the adults stored genomes. We used the parasite gene bank first. Young women volunteered as surrogates. But we quickly ran out of templates- there were only about one thousand unique parasites and whenever we tried to clone two of the same- only one survived. So we started cloning adults. We ran out of them fast too. Getting the reproduction ratio above unity was a constant struggle. We-"
"This is- horrible! Why are you telling me this?"
"Because he's going to come for me next- and if I die, history needs to survive with you.
"You see, there were two special groups. Squad thirteen and the nines. We decided not to clone squad thirteen out of respect, and the nines out of fear. Twenty five years ago we discovered VIRM units on Ash Cloud. We knew we could convert them into something usable, a weapon to fight the fleet if they came back. Our weapons were weak and the Klaxosaurs were decimated so we needed something to defend us.
"So I decided to bring him back – the Hero of squad thirteen. I knew if anyone could fly Tracers- it would be him. I entrusted the project, my biggest secret, to Colonel Verbius. His wife died giving birth to Royce. He- raised him like a son."
"No- no this isn't possible. Royce is a clone? A clone of some ancient warrior a thousand years ago?"
She continued, without acknowledgment, but also without denial. "Then I figured- why stop there? In for a penny, in for a pound, right- so I brought you back as well, Ichigo."
"No. Wait- This can't be. I'm a clone? My parents- were just surrogates?"
"Most are. It's easy to hide as long as nobody runs the sequence- nobody's the wiser. And we control all the sequencing equipment."
She asked with wide open eyes: "Who am I?"
"You're one of the best pilots from Squad thirteen. You were their leader."
"And who was Royce?"
"He's the one who saved us."
"Oh no. If he's Hiro… I've heard the legends- that means Diana is-"
"The council of three decided to destroy the DNA of the nines- including Zero Two. They were too dangerous to clone and they were products of the magma technology we swore to destroy."
"But you broke your promise."
"Yes."
"And the Khanians broke their promise about magma."
"Yes."
"So it's possible-"
"Anything is possible. But it's not likely. We all watched Hachi destroy the nine's DNA. Even if there was another copy somewhere- too many things are different for her to be an outright clone."
Ikuno reached out a wrinkled hand and touched her knee. "Ria- just because you're a clone doesn't mean you aren't you. You're still unique- your mind is still unique, even if your helix isn't. No woman walks in the same river twice- for it's not the same river, and she is not the same woman."
"I don't- know what you mean."
"It means I need your help- I need you to help me pilot the Prototype Three."
Her eyes grew wide as saucers and she started to cry.
"We have to stop them." Ikuno urged. "If they open another gateway we won't be able to fight them off this time. I can still fly. It's been a thousand years but you don't forget. Come on. We'll do it together. In the Tracer- my legs won't matter.
"Come on. Let's try to fly together. Pistil to pistil. This time we'll succeed. I know it."