Chapter 4: Adaptive Mutation

The next day came quickly, Liz and Jamie rising from their nest of blankets and pillows to prepare themselves for the journey ahead. They scarcely had time to finish their breakfast before the shuttle that had been sent to collect them was taking up formation beside the Magellan. Jamie watched it through one of the narrow windows in the corridor just outside the airlock, the smaller vessel shooting bursts of blue flame from its thrusters as it matched their velocity and heading. It was sleeker and more aerodynamic than the bulky survey ship, clearly designed with atmospheric flight in mind, but that wasn’t to say that it was in any way elegant. It had a pair of stubby wings for gliding and a cockpit situated high on the stunted nose, the silhouette of the pilot visible beyond the canopy. It had a wide hull, making it look oddly bloated, likely to accommodate a large cargo hold. It was painted white, but the underside was charred black by the heat of reentry, and the old coating was chipping away in many places. Along the side was stenciled faded text in Cyrillic, suggesting that it was of Russian origin.

The umbilical began to extend from the Magellan, connecting to a hatch on the flank of the bulbous lander. The tarp-like material that covered it began to inflate as the passageway pressurized, a green light coming on beside the airlock’s outer door to signal that it was ready.

The Captain had come down from the bridge to see them off, and she hit a console beside the inner door to open it, the panel sliding into a recess in the ceiling above.

“I hope you guys find what you’re looking for down there,” she said, the pair turning to face her. “I think your chances are pretty good.”

“Thank you,” Jamie replied, extending his hand. “Without you and your crew, we would never have gotten this far.”

She took it, giving it a vigorous shake.

“No problem,” she replied with a grin. “Nothing wrong with picking up a couple of interstellar hitchhikers.”

“We’ll see you soon,” Liz added, enclosing Cassidy’s hand in her huge mitt. “You’ll have an extra passenger if everything goes our way.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she chuckled.

They said their goodbyes, then entered the airlock, the door sealing behind them with a whoosh. As the pressure equalized, the outer door opened, the fifty-foot umbilical stretching out before them. Liz ducked to avoid hitting her head as she followed Jamie inside, the metal walkway creaking under their weight. At the far end was the hatch that led into the shuttle, its design considerably different from that of the airlock. It looked more like what one would expect to find on a submarine or something of the sort.

As the pair neared, it swung outward on a pair of sturdy hinges, a man clad in a black pressure suit gesturing for them to approach. He was wearing a bulky flight helmet in contrasting white, the visor currently raised to expose his stubbly face.

He helped Jamie through, then stepped aside to let Liz pass, the Borealan having to crouch and turn sideways to fit. They emerged into a cramped troop bay, the walls lined with seats, enough for a squad of Marines. He was relieved to see that there were crash couches large enough for Liz. It was clearly an old ship, judging by the scuffed deck and the loose wires that hung from the ceiling in places. Some of the metal paneling on the walls was brighter, newer, clearly recent repairs. It was lit by dirty light strips on the ceiling that seemed as though they should have been brighter, giving everything a dingy vibe. The padding on the seats was protruding through tears in places, and there was a musty smell about the ship, as though the air filters hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time.

The bay was separated from the cockpit by a narrow door, the glowing lights of the control panels and the stars beyond the canopy visible through its aperture. Unlike the Magellan, this craft was too small to have an airlock, opening directly to the umbilical.

“Take a seat and strap in,” the pilot said, sealing the hatch before making his way into the cockpit. Contrary to what the lettering on the hull had suggested, he didn’t sound Russian. His accent was something more akin to Spanish or Portuguese. “The science types hired me to take you down to the colony. The ride might get a little rough. These forests create a lot of weird weather, so make sure your harness is good and tight.”

He wasn’t UAS or Navy, then. This must be a privately-owned shuttle. Judging by the masses of cargo netting and bungee cords that were bundled up towards the troop ramp at the rear, it was safe to guess that he probably made his living hauling goods.

Jamie and Liz exchanged a glance, then sat down next to each other, sliding their bags beneath their seats. The first one that Jamie sat down in had a broken harness, and he shared another concerned look with Liz before sliding into a neighboring seat. They were much less comfortable than the ones on the Magellan, but he was quickly learning to temper his expectations.

There were no windows in the troop bay, but Jamie could feel the hull reverberate as the shuttle detached from the umbilical, along with the sense of motion as it began to accelerate. Before long, they hit the atmosphere, turbulence starting to rock the little craft. Jamie found himself gripping the armrests of his chair for dear life, Liz reaching up to grab a handhold on the ceiling above as the shuttle threatened to shake itself apart. It was like being inside a can of loose bolts while it was rolling down a hill. The hanging wires swung, the light strips flickered, and the sounds of stressed metal filled the bay.

Jamie had a collection of colorful expletives and constructive criticisms of the pilot’s flying skills that were boiling up inside him, but he felt that insulting the man was probably unwise with the door to the cockpit open.

It took several minutes for the shaking to abate, the shuttle starting to make lazy, swooping circles as it decelerated. There was another rumble from beneath the deck, presumably the landing gear deploying, the craft bouncing as it touched down.

They waited as the pilot got up from his controls, scant glimpses of green forest visible beyond the cockpit, the man giving them a questioning look as they stared back at him.

“We’re here, ride’s over,” he said. “What are you waiting for, the no-smoking sign to turn off? This ain’t no airline kids, you don’t need my permission to get up.”

He made his way past them, hitting a control panel beside the troop ramp, which slowly began to lower on a pair of hydraulic pistons. As soon as a crack appeared, daylight flooded in, along with a rush of fresh air that washed away the musty smell of the shuttle. It smelled like wet earth after a rainstorm, cool and crisp, immediately lifting Jamie’s spirits. He and Liz unbuckled, Liz slinging the large duffel over her shoulder as she walked down the ramp, Jamie following after her. He considered thanking their pilot, but decided that he probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

For the first time in months, Jamie saw blue sky above, the sight giving him an odd sense of vertigo. He had grown accustomed to being able to reach up and touch the ceiling, and the return to normalcy was somewhat jarring. He filled his lungs with fresh air, fresher even than that of his home city, devoid of any man-made pollutants.

He found himself standing on top of a raised landing pad, its surface scorched black, a ramp leading down to the ground. There was no grass, just dirt that was broken up by a few fern-like plants with splayed fronds. Before him was a cluster of prefab buildings, none more than one or two stories tall, all made from the same off-white material. Their design was industrial, functional, each one raised a good foot off the ground on sets of extensible supports that resembled the outriggers of a crane. Some had been stacked one on top of the other or side by side, fitting together seamlessly to create larger structures, while most were standing alone in a loose cluster. From his vantage point, he could see maybe three dozen buildings, enough to make a small town. Several of them had comms arrays protruding from their flat roofs, and there was a network of thick, insulated cables trailing on the ground between them to create a network. There were no roads, just dirt tracks that had been carved out by regular use. Jamie could see a few open-topped, off-road vehicles with thick, treaded tires sitting idle.

The settlement was in a large, muddy clearing, one that was clearly artificial. He could see the remnants of thick roots in places, a few stumps protruding from the ground at its limits where the forest had been cleared. They were so huge that some of the smaller buildings could have been placed atop them with room to spare.

The clearing was surrounded by truly immense trees, so tall that they had more in common with skyscrapers than plants. Their diameter at the base must have been thirty feet, and some of the taller ones must have been approaching ten times that in height. Their rough, uneven trunks were covered in bark that had a reddish-brown hue, the lower halves devoid of branches, while the upper halves were covered in a mass of green leaves that formed a thick canopy. The woodland beyond the settlement was so dense that it was cast into shadow, the thick trunks limiting visibility to a couple of hundred feet at most.

“Man, it smells good here,” Liz said as she sidled up beside him with her duffel in hand. “Quiet, too. No cars, no people, just the sound of branches swaying in the breeze.”

“Is this the colony?” he asked, peering out over the settlement. “It’s ... smaller than I expected.”

“This is how most frontier colonies start off,” she replied. “There will be other little towns like this spread around, probably within driving distance. They drop these prefabs from dropships all ready to go, and people can start living in them as soon as they’re hooked up to the local power and water. One day, decades from now, there might be a city here.”

“How do they get power out here?” Jamie wondered.

“Back on Borealis, they would sometimes land ships on the surface and run cables from the generators,” she replied. “On a colony like this, they’re probably using a portable fusion reactor of some kind, something more permanent.”

They made their way down the ramp, unsure of what to do next, a few settlers who were walking between the buildings pausing to glance at Liz. After a moment, someone exited one of the prefabs, then came jogging towards them. He was wearing civilian clothes, just like the others, but Jamie was quick to note the UAS patch that was sewn onto the sleeve of his hooded jacket. He had dark, curly hair, and the tanned complexion of someone who had spent a lot of time in the sun. He approached them with a smile, meeting them at the foot of the ramp.

“Hello!” he said, greeting them with a friendly wave. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, you must be the couple who shipped in on the Magellan. My name is Sousa, I head the UAS research outpost here on Jarilo.”

His accent was rather thick, placing him somewhere in South America, most likely Brazil.

“I’m Jamie, and this is Liz,” Jamie replied.

“The UAS sent me a memo about you two a few months back,” he continued. “I have to confess, when I heard about your plans, I was intrigued. I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. We can finally get started.”

“Get started?” Liz asked.

“There’s a lot happening on Jarilo,” he explained. “It’s easier to show you rather than try to explain everything. Come, let’s get you settled in first,” he added as he gestured for them to follow him. They made their way further into the colony, Jamie’s shoes sinking in the muddy tracks carved out by the vehicles.

“There are a few settlements like this scattered around the valley,” he continued, moving out of the way as a flatbed truck loaded with crates rumbled past them. “This one is closest to the hive, so we decided to set up shop here. A couple of miles East is one of the old FOBs from the war. They built a settlement within walking distance of each one, just in case everything went belly-up down here. They’re still manned by garrisons of Marines, but that’s mostly just to keep the Admiralty happy. I doubt anyone who actually lives here thinks they’re necessary anymore.”

They stopped before one of the prefabs, a single-story structure that was raised off the ground on supports, just like the rest. There were a couple of narrow windows covered over with slats, a short, metal staircase leading up to the door. Its corners were rounded, reminding Jamie of the hatch on the shuttle.

“This is where you’ll be living during your stay,” Sousa said, the steps creaking as he climbed up to open the door. “Madame may want to duck to avoid hitting her head. Apologies, these units aren’t manufactured to Borealan spec, but you should find the ceiling high enough to be serviceable.”

Jamie and Liz followed in behind him, Liz crouching under the low door frame. The interior resembled what one might expect to find in a luxury camper or a trailer, perhaps twenty feet wide, and maybe eighty feet long. The prefab was all open-plan, save for the bathroom and bedrooms, not unlike their apartment back home. There was a kitchen area with counters and a dining table that was surrounded by four seats, a living area with a large couch and a wall-mounted monitor. All of the furniture seemed to be made from the same material as the structure itself, and it was attached to the floor, meaning that it probably couldn’t be shuffled around. It had likely come like this straight out of the factory where it had been printed.

“I trust this will be sufficient,” Sousa said as he wiped his muddy boots vigorously on the doormat. “It’s no five-star hotel, but our means are a little more limited down here.”

“It’s bigger than our apartment,” Jamie chuckled. “Hand me your bag, Liz,” he added as he extended his arms to her. “We might want to get you a hose or something so you don’t track mud all over the carpet.”

“I did bring my boots,” she muttered, Jamie sagging under her duffel’s weight as she lowered it down to him. “They’re just ... goofy.”

He lugged the bag into the bedroom, happy to see that they had a Queen-size, then returned to Liz’s side at the door. Sousa led them back out into what passed for the street, following the mud track a little further into the town.

They stopped in front of another prefab building, identical to the rest, save for the UAS logo that was stenciled along its facade. It was joined to two others, like building blocks arranged side by side, resulting in a longer structure. There was a large satellite dish on the roof, which was probably beaming the archive of research data to the Magellan right now.

“Here’s the base,” Sousa announced, gesturing proudly to the prefab. “It’s more of a tin can than a base, really, but this is where we do our work. Jarilo has its own fascinating biology, of course, but most of our focus right now is on the Jarilans.”

“Jarilans?” Liz asked.

“Our arthropod neighbors don’t like to be called Betelgeusians,” he explained, climbing a short flight of metal steps to reach the door. “They argue that their species didn’t originate in the Betelgeuse system, even though humanity first encountered them there, and that they share no affiliation with their wayward brethren. I’d be inclined to agree, hence the name Jarilan. Their circumstances are quite unique as far as we know, and they only exist here.”

“If I were them, I’d want to distance myself from the other hives, too,” she muttered.

“Rebranding,” Jamie added, Liz giving him a smirk. “Betelgeuse Zero, now with no added genocide.”

The interior of the UAS building was the same size as the previous prefab, but the floor space was occupied by tables that lined the walls, stacked with computer monitors and scientific implements. There were microscopes, racks of test tubes, a large glass box with a pair of rubber gloves attached to it. Jamie couldn’t name most of the appliances, but the lab seemed well-equipped. All around were more scientists, five in this building, more glimpsed through the far door that led into the adjoining prefab. They were hard at work swiping through holographic displays, analyzing samples, and who knew what else. Most were wearing casual clothes, but a few had white lab coats and surgical gloves.

The researchers looked up from their work as the newcomers entered, all eyes on Liz, which didn’t come as a surprise.

“Let me introduce you to the UAS research team who will be poking and prodding at you during your stay,” Sousa said, gesturing to the scientists. “Guys, this is the couple from Earth that we talked about, the ones who want to undergo fertility treatments.”

They received an enthusiastic greeting, a few of the researchers waving to them before turning their attention back to their work.

“I’m sure you’ll become better acquainted with everyone in time,” Sousa explained, leading them back outside.

“Are we really that big of a deal?” Jamie asked. “I know that what we’re doing has never been attempted before, but I’m starting to feel like a celebrity. Everyone seems to know us, and we don’t know them.”

“To the scientific community, you might as well be celebrities,” he replied. “People are already planning on writing papers about you. What we’re studying here is an entirely new field of genetic science, one that transcends anything we thought possible just a couple of years ago. The Betelgeusians have a legacy of genetic engineering that goes back thousands, possibly tens of thousands of years, and the Jarilans are no different in that respect. They’re able to manipulate their own DNA to such a fine degree that we’re only just starting to understand the basic concepts. The applications are endless,” he continued, his frantic gestures conveying his passion for the subject. “Curing diseases, slowing the aging process, maybe even adapting ourselves to hostile environments in the way that the Betelgeusians do. We’ve already seen them incorporate foreign DNA into their own genome, and you two are the next logical step.”

“Wait,” Liz began, stopping his monologue. “You said that they’ve already mixed DNA from two different sources? You’ve confirmed this?”

“As I said, it will be easier to show you rather than try to explain,” he replied. “All will soon become clear, you have my assurances. As for the moment, I’m sure you’re both hungry and in need of rest. Our resident shuttle pilot is more accustomed to transporting inanimate goods who can’t complain about the turbulence than living passengers.”

Jamie and Liz returned to their prefab, unpacking their belongings and exploring their new residence. The kitchen cupboards were stocked with food, non-perishable items only, not even comparable to what they had enjoyed on the Magellan. It was to be expected. What food the colonists would be able to produce themselves at this stage was probably limited to whatever grains and vegetables were taking to the soil, whatever they could grow in small-scale hydroponic farms, and what meat they could hunt in the forests. There were no pastures for cattle to graze in, no infrastructure for processing food yet, no canneries or bottling plants. There was a fresh loaf of bread and a dozen eggs in a basket on the counter, however. Those had to have been produced locally, so there must be some kind of farming going on.

“That Sousa guy is like a kid with a new toy,” Jamie said, opening one of the drawers in his search for silverware.

“He’s certainly enthusiastic,” Liz replied. “I think it’s cute.”

“It won’t be so cute if he ends up treating this like a science experiment,” he muttered as he set some cutlery on the counter. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable knowing that your health takes priority over seeing how far they can push things for curiosity’s sake.”

“We don’t have much choice right now other than to trust the people here,” Liz replied with a shrug, stooping to rummage inside the fridge. “Neither of us are knowledgeable enough to argue with them.”

Jamie turned to face Liz, his stern expression giving her pause.

“If we get into a situation where the procedures become dangerous, if they put your health at risk, what’s the plan?”

“It sounds like you’re asking me whether I want this baby enough to put myself in danger,” she replied, Jamie sighing in exasperation.

“I just want us to be on the same page going forward,” he reiterated, crossing his arms somewhat defensively as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. “We both want this, we wouldn’t have come all this way if there was any doubt, but I want to know where we’ll draw the line. Maybe they’ll have to modify your genes or something, change you in a way that might have unforeseen consequences, that could make you sick. What then?”

He could see that Liz was conflicted, her tail starting to wave back and forth behind her as it so often did when she was stressed or uncertain.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she replied. Seeing that it wasn’t enough to satisfy him, she elaborated further. “Listen, these are experimental medical procedures we’re talking about here, things that have never been attempted before. Of course there’s going to be an element of risk. Just coming here was a risk. There are a thousand things that could have killed us on the way. The problem is, if you spend your time trying to mitigate risk, you’ll never get those big payoffs. When I came back to Earth, I was taking a huge gamble,” she continued as she took a step towards him. She reached out, taking his hands in hers. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, if you’d even remember me, but that gamble paid off.”

“It’s not that I don’t get what you’re saying,” Jamie replied, peering up at her. “This could be the next big payoff, I understand that, but...” He averted his eyes, giving her a shrug. “If push comes to shove, I’d rather go home empty-handed than risk losing you.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” she replied, lifting his chin with a curved claw as she tried to reassure him. “But if it does, you have my word that it’ll be a conversation, okay? I’m not going to go baby crazy and make unilateral decisions on my own. This isn’t just about me, we’re partners in this. Deal?”

He nodded, Liz ruffling his hair.

“Come on,” she added, turning back to the fridge. “One thing they seem to have in abundance here is chicken. We can fry some up.”

Not long after they were done eating, Sousa returned to knock on their door, Jamie opening it to see the energetic scientist waiting on the steps.

“If you guys are ready to go, I can show you what’s got us all so excited,” he began. “It’s a short walk, but the terrain can be a little rough, so wear something suitable for hiking.”

“Give us a few minutes to get ready,” Jamie replied, Sousa nodding as he descended the stairs to wait outside.

Jamie returned to the bedroom, where Liz was already rummaging through her duffel bag.

“Sousa is here,” he said. “Sounds like we might finally get that explanation that he keeps teasing. He says to dress for a hike.”

“Guess that means I gotta wear my boots,” Liz grumbled, retrieving them from the bag. They weren’t too different in design from human shoes, but Borealans were digitigrade, which meant that they walked on their toes. Their feet were completely different from those of a human, more akin to the paws of a cat. What resulted were shoes with short, stubby soles, secured around the ankles with Velcro straps. They looked exactly like what an obsessive dog owner might buy for their chihuahua, only scaled up to fit a Borealan. Liz hated them and avoided wearing them at all costs, while Jamie found them adorable.

She slid them on, then tightened the straps, visibly uncomfortable as she rose to her feet.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

They joined Sousa outside the prefab, who seemed amused by the sight of Liz’s boots, but wisely chose not to comment. He led them out of the settlement and into the trees, down another winding path that had been carved out by the trucks. Saying that the terrain was rough was an understatement. The abundance of protruding roots and the dense carpet of obscuring ferns made hiking on Jarilo a quick way to snap an ankle. They had to take things slow.

“So ... are there any predators in these forests?” Jamie asked, craning his neck to admire the dense canopy high above. Beams of sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating pools of dappled light on the ground below. “Anything that might, I dunno, leap out from behind a tree and eat us?”

“The apex predator, at least on this continent, appears to be the Gorgonopsia Jarilae,” Sousa replied as he hopped over a root. “It’s a therapsid-adjacent species, somewhat akin to the Eupelycosauria of Earth’s Permian era. Most people around here just call them Knife-Tooths.”

“Like something in the theriodont clade?” Liz asked.

“Yeah,” Sousa replied, turning his head to give her an appreciative glance. “Sounds like someone knows their paleontology.”

“I studied evolutionary biology in college,” Liz replied, leaping over another tall root with far more grace than either of her human companions could muster. “Xenobiology was my thing, specifically. I wanted to go into the field, but life had other plans for me.”

“Then, Jarilo should be a playground for you,” Sousa chuckled. “This is a primitive ecosystem that hasn’t been subjected to a great deal of selective pressure yet. Nature is still experimenting, finding her feet.”

“We’ll probably be here for a while,” Jamie added as he followed behind them. “Maybe you can take some time to do a little sightseeing, as long as we stay clear of the Knife-Tooths...”

“I’d like that,” she replied.

They soon emerged into another large clearing that was surrounded by the remnants of felled trees, identical to the one they had left. Instead of a settlement, however, the muddy ground had been tilled into neat rows. Green shoots were starting to sprout from the dark earth, but Jamie wasn’t knowledgeable enough when it came to farming to identify the plants at a glance. What he could identify, however, was the Bug.

Standing at the far end of the small field was a titanic creature, at least nine or ten feet tall, its bulky frame coated in overlapping layers of thick carapace. The armor was covered in defensive spines in places, like a king crab, the organic plating shining with a blue iridescence as it caught the sunlight. It looked to Jamie like a bipedal lobster, standing on a pair of stout, jointed legs that ended in splayed claws of chitin. Its bulbous head protruded from the armored collar of its segmented shell, a pair of compound eyes that more resembled the visor of a helmet lit by a faint, green glow. Its wicked mandibles shifted ceaselessly, the vicious mouth parts flexing and clicking, as though anticipating tearing into flesh.

It had four arms, the upper pair far larger and more powerful than the lower. It looked like it should have been equipped with massive, crab-like claws, but the blades on the ends of the powerful appendages were not weapons. Forearms as thick around as Jamie’s torso tapered into half a dozen sharp prongs on each limb, like long, rigid claws. It was using them to till the field, he realized, dragging them through the soil to leave deep furrows in their wake. The lower, slimmer pair were moving frantically as it took plodding steps backwards. There was a leather pouch the size of a saddlebag slung about its thick core, which they were reaching inside, emerging with plants grasped in their dexterous fingers. They were seedlings, and the great arthropod was transplanting them into the soil with surprising care, covering them over carefully before moving down the line.

“What the fuck?” Jamie gasped, the curse all that he could muster. Liz wasn’t faring much better, staring at the beast in stunned silence as it worked the field.

“That there is probably one of the most dangerous things in the Galaxy,” Sousa declared proudly, visibly amused by their shocked expressions. “It’s a Betelgeusian Warrior, pretty much what passes for a super-soldier in the hive fleets. They’re nigh impervious to small-arms fire thanks to their layered armor, and they can eviscerate even a pissed off Krell if they can close into range with their claws. They’re not actually a caste unto themselves, they’re biomechanical power suits, living vehicles. See the glowy bits and the cables between the joints?”

Jamie could indeed see the mechanical aspects of the thing now that they had been pointed out to him. Those eyes were indeed visors, and the glow of electronics was visible in places, melded with the organic flesh and carapace.

“The Jarilans have adapted their Warriors to suit their new lifestyle,” Sousa continued. “We call these ones Cultivators. I’ve also seen them used as forklifts and as excavators, basically any role that heavy machinery would usually fill. It sure beats having to land backhoes down here, I’ll tell you that.”

“What’s it doing?” Liz asked, watching the thing warily.

“Planting potato seedlings,” Sousa replied. “As it turns out, the Jarries are pretty good at farming.”