Chapter 5: Transgenesis

Liz, Jamie, and Sousa made their way back up to the settlement. It had been a bizarre few hours, and Jamie was about ready for a break. In one day, he had left the spaceship that had been his home for the last four months, he had descended to an alien planet in a rickety shuttle, and he had toured a hive full of giant insects. He tried to imagine how he would explain what he had seen to his friends back home, to his parents, but he was drawing a blank.

Sousa left them at their prefab, heading back to his lab, Jamie collapsing onto the couch as soon as he was inside.

“Man, why am I so tired?” he grumbled. “I’ve done longer hikes than that in my sleep.”

“You were cooped up on the Magellan for months,” Liz replied with a smirk. “Considering how much exercise you usually do, it’s no wonder you’re out of practice. We should have gotten you a giant hamster wheel.”

“Hey, we found other ways to burn off all that energy,” he added. Liz gave him a playful whip with her tail, Jamie batting at the furry appendage.

“You should go for a run tomorrow,” she suggested, turning her eyes to the slatted windows. “It would do you good to get some fresh air.”

“I’d like to, but what about the Knife-Tooths?”

“Maybe Bluejay will agree to be your bodyguard,” she chuckled. “I’d tag along, but you know I don’t have the stamina to keep pace with you. At least, not when it comes to endurance running...”

“The benefits of dating an ambush predator,” he said, Liz flashing her teeth at him.

“We should get out for a while,” she said. “I know we’ve been hiking all day, but after so many weeks cooped up on that survey ship, I relish the opportunity to sit under an open sky.”

“Alien picnic?” Jamie suggested.

“Now you’re speaking my language. We’ve got bread, we’ve got eggs, we’ve got chicken. Let’s make some sandwiches.”

They made their sandwiches, then took them out into the forest beyond the settlement, keeping the prefabs in view so as not to risk getting lost in the dense woodland. Jamie wasn’t so concerned about the Knife-Tooths with a Borealan by his side. The pair settled into a nook between two protruding roots at the base of a towering tree, leaning back against its uneven trunk as they ate, watching the branches high above them sway in the breeze. It was evening, so the air was starting to cool, but it was still pleasantly warm.

“I can’t believe how much like Earth this place is,” Jamie mused, finishing the last bite of a chicken sandwich. “If I just woke up here one day, I’d assume I was up in Washington state somewhere.”

“It’s remarkably similar to Earth,” Liz replied. “The composition of the atmosphere, the gravity, the flora. That’s probably why the Navy fought so hard for it. Planets like this are extremely rare.”

“How does it compare to Borealis? Elysia is surrounded by jungles, right?”

“Elysian jungles are much denser,” she explained. “Think something more like the Amazon rainforest. That said, most of the plants are evergreen, as they have to survive the winter cycles.”

“Seems like a nice place to build a new life,” he sighed, watching the light shafts that bled through the canopy create pools of shimmering light in the ferns. “It’s not like the people here don’t have jobs and bills, but all the work they do goes towards improving the settlement. They’re not just doing busywork, you know? If your job is repairing a generator, that’s the generator that will be powering the homes of all your neighbors, people you interact with every day. An electrician who services a power breaker in a high-rise isn’t any less important, but he’ll never meet any of those people. He’ll never see the outcome of his work.”

“You’ve only been in the forest for a day, and you’re already fantasizing about being a homesteader,” Liz chuckled. “The UN wants people out here, you know. I saw the programs when I was researching Jarilo, I saw the incentives that they offer. Some of them are pretty attractive. If someone wanted to just drop everything, then come out here and start a new life, I don’t think it would be too difficult.”

“I think I’m too much of a city boy to make it in the wild,” Jamie chuckled. “Sure, we all sometimes fantasize about going out into the Alaskan wilderness and building a log cabin, hunting moose for our livelihood. Doubt most people could cut it, though. Is it something you’ve thought about?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” she replied, fishing in their hamper for another egg sandwich. “But, after living on Borealis, I figure I could make it pretty much anywhere. If you suddenly developed a case of wanderlust, I’d follow you.”

“What about your job?” he asked.

“It’s not the first job I’ve had,” she replied with a shrug. “Probably won’t be the last, either.”

“I think I’ll probably be homesick by the time we’re ready to leave,” he said, leaning back against the tree. “It’s nice to have the option, though, right?”

By the next morning, Sousa was knocking on their door again. He was accompanied by a gaggle of half a dozen squat medics, Jamie unable to tell if Nightingale was among them or not, as they all looked similar to his eyes. Two of them were hauling a large resin crate between them.

“Good news,” the scientist began with his usual energy. “The Jarilans have finished sequencing your DNA. If you’d like to accompany us to the lab, we’re ready to start the next phase of the project.”

“The next phase?” Liz asked, ducking to peer through the open door as she stood behind Jamie.

“The Jarries are going to go over the results with the UAS team, then we’re going to start discussing how we want to proceed, what kind of outcome we can expect. You two are central to that discussion, we’ll need your input. It’s going to be your baby, after all.”

It was unlike Liz to skip breakfast, but the prospect of hearing the results of the tests had her throwing on her leather jacket and clearing the metal steps that led up to their prefab in a single stride. Jamie was quick to follow, the group making their way across the muddy street to the cluster of UAS buildings.

They were greeted by several scientists inside, the Bugs fanning out, apparently already familiar with the human equipment. Jamie wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but the room was fairly packed now, and everyone seemed to be in heated discussion.

At the far end of one of the adjoining prefabs was the computer room, packed with banks of servers that the UAS used to crunch numbers and to store their research data. A network of thick, insulated power and optical cables the width of garden hoses snaked along the walls, leading to other areas of the facility. There was an especially large cluster of them that vanished into the ceiling above, Jamie surmising that they were probably linked to the satellite dish that he had seen on the roof.

The Bugs set the crate down on the floor, two more of their companions joining them, starting to crack open the casing. There was no lid, they just broke the brittle material apart, revealing something that turned Jamie’s stomach.

It was a wheeled platform, like something that might carry an EKG machine in a hospital, shaped like a small table. Sitting atop it was a seething mass of yellow-green flesh, its slimy, lustrous surface covered in pulsing veins. It was contained within a transparent sheath, like it had been wrapped in kitchen film, keeping the thing air-tight. To Jamie’s untrained eye, it looked like a giant organ being prepared for transplant, large enough that it could have been carved out of a sizable cow.

It was hooked up to some kind of life support system, tubes that were halfway between a cable and an artery weaving their way through the supports like the roots of a plant. It was such a complex network, masses of wires bulging from the pedestal, connecting to the organ in places through ports in its protective covering. There were more electronics, too, flashing status lights visible on the unidentifiable devices that were hooked up to the flesh.

“There it is,” Sousa whistled, watching as the Bugs inspected the thing.

“I have a feeling you’re about to tell us what we’re looking at,” Jamie muttered.

“That right there is a living, twitching mystery,” the scientist replied. “Earlier, I talked about how the Betelgeusian Queens use microscopic, molecular machines to read the nucleotides on strands of DNA, translating the codons into chemical signals that can be sensed and cataloged. They’re also able to test how those genes interact through a process that we simply don’t understand yet. What you’re looking at is the specialized organ that performs those functions, the same kind you’d find inside a Queen. This one has been vat-grown and hooked up to a life-support system.”

“That thing would usually be inside a Queen?” Liz asked, watching the mass of flesh pulse. “Just how big are they?”

“About twelve feet tall,” Sousa replied, Liz raising her eyebrows. “Problem is,” he continued, “the organ is supposed to be hooked up to a nervous system. It’s full of specialized cells that send chemical signals to nerves, which the brain that it’s usually attached to would interpret. The Jarilans use neural interfaces to control many of their machines and vehicles, so tapping into those signals isn’t an issue for them, but humans just don’t have the wetware to handle that. The medics have assured us that they’ve devised a way to output the data in a way that we can understand, though. Think of it like ... converting an analog input to a digital signal.”

“Look,” Jamie chuckled, giving Liz a nudge. “They’re hooking it up to the servers. Did they just slap an optical connection on it?”

The Bugs were running cables from the device to the computers, connecting the two with surprising finesse. There was a physical keyboard beneath a terminal that was occupying one of the racks, one of the insects using its four arms to tap frantically at the keys, lines of code scrolling past so quickly that it looked like a blur to Jamie. They were clearly familiar with whatever operating system the servers were running.

The scientists clustered around another terminal that was sitting on one of the worktops in the lab, watching as data began to display on the feed. It looked like strings of random letters to Jamie, row after row of Gs, As, Ts, and Cs.

“It’s working!” one of the researchers exclaimed, the room erupting in clapping and cheering.

“The computer is reading chemical signatures from the organ and displaying the genetic information as GACT, which is the code we use to describe DNA,” Sousa explained. “Every three letters is a codon, and every sixty-four codons is a gene. What we have here isn’t really usable. We need to improve on the software, find a way to display it more intuitively. But now we know that it works.”

“This is just the sequencer,” another of the scientists added, giving them an excited smile as she turned to glance back at them. “We can already do this with our equipment, but this means that we can start studying how the Jarilans decode the functions and interactions of these genes. It’s just a matter of translating the signals in a way that we can interpret.”

“Come on,” Sousa said, leading Liz and Jamie away. “The Jarilans have already seen this data, they can explain your options.”

They left the bustle of the lab behind, entering a break room with more comfortable seating. Liz was large enough to occupy an entire couch by herself, the frame creaking under her weight as she settled into the cushions. Jamie sat down on a chair beside her as Sousa called in one of the Bugs, the pearl-colored creature waddling into the room.

“Nightingale,” he began, Jamie wondering how he was able to tell the creatures apart from the rest. “I’d like you to explain to your patients how the tests went and what their options will be, if you would.”

“Naturally,” she replied, her furry antennae waving excitedly as she turned to address the pair. “We have determined that the two genomes are healthy and that they are compatible.”

“Compatible!” Liz repeated, clapping her large hands together happily. “Does that mean we can have a baby?”

“Assuredly,” Nightingale replied, Liz uttering an excited trill in response. She turned to beam at Jamie, his heart fluttering as her green eyes met his. She was so ... happy, radiant. “The question now is how extensive hybridization will be, yes, yes. Which genes to preserve, which to replace, which traits will be of benefit to the offspring.”

“Back on Earth, we’d have to pay an arm and a leg for a designer baby,” Jamie marveled.

“Limbs ... currency?” Nightingale wondered, Sousa giving the Bug a dismissive wave of his hand.

“It’s an expression, Nightingale. Ignore it.”

“The first parameter to be considered is whether you wish to carry the offspring yourself, or if you would prefer that we mature the fetus to viability in a surrogate system,” Nightingale continued. “Developing an artificial womb to suit the needs of the developing fetus would not be complicated, but Doctor Sousa has informed me that you may wish to perform the birth yourselves.”

“I want to carry it, if I can,” Liz replied. “Definitely.”

“That decision will somewhat limit the hybridization options,” the insect continued. “In such a case, we will base the genome of the offspring on the Borealan genetic blueprint to ensure that the fetus is compatible with your biology and that no complications arise.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Jamie asked. “Basing the genome on the Borealan blueprint?”

“We refer to base genomes prior to their modification as blueprints,” Sousa explained. “It means that the child would be ostensibly Borealan in appearance. If you’d prefer it to look more human, we’d need to use the surrogate method, as it might cause issues for Lizka. I understand if you need more time to think about it.”

“You told me that you’d love a kitten when we last talked about this,” Jamie said as he turned to Liz.

“I wanted it to be a conversation,” she chuckled.

“It’s the only way for you to carry it yourself,” he added, Liz nodding her head. “So ... where exactly do my genes come into the equation?” he asked, his question directed at Nightingale. “You said that it would be a hybrid, but what does that mean in practice?”

“The process is simple,” the Bug replied, her antennae waving in what might be excitement. She reminded him of Liz when she had an opportunity to talk to him about xenobiology, that same eager energy bubbling up inside her. “In the case that you choose to carry the offspring yourselves, we will take the female’s genome as a base, and selectively splice genes from the male’s genome that are deemed acceptable. Doctor Sousa has informed us that there are guidelines that must be followed for legal reasons, as well as social and cultural aspects that require our deference. It would be logical to create the fittest possible organism based on the best of both genomes, but if this is not to be the case, careful consideration will be required.”

“It will be ‘my’ child, then?” Jamie continued. “It’ll have my genes?”

“As many as can be carried over while adhering to those parameters, yes,” the Bug replied. “During conception, each participant provides half of their genome, their haploid chromosomes combining into a new diploid chromosome. These are contained within the eggs and sperm cells, respectively. As no complete genome will be provided by a Borealan male, we must harvest two eggs, recombining their genes.”

“It’s more like cloning, then?” Liz asked. “I’d be carrying a genetic copy of myself?”

“Not entirely,” Nightingale replied, reaching up to clean her antennae with her upper pair of hands as she explained. “As many of the male’s genes will be included as is deemed appropriate, and we will also activate some dormant genes from your own genetic library, adding some small element of randomization to ensure genetic diversity.”

“One of our big concerns was whether the baby would be able to integrate into one society or the other,” Liz added, glancing over at Jamie. “We didn’t want it to look so different that it might be ostracized, and we wanted to make sure it could reproduce when it grows up.”

“Those parameters can be met,” the Bug replied. “If I may,” she continued, looking to Sousa as though asking for permission. “What reason do you have for not simply choosing the most desirable traits from both genomes? Why limit the parameters so? I do not understand why you would not want to produce the fittest offspring possible.”

“Those are the social and cultural factors that Doctor Sousa mentioned,” Jamie replied. “We don’t want to create a brand new species, we want them to be able to live a full life without having to worry about prejudice or infertility. Its purpose isn’t to be strong, just ... to be happy.”

“In that case, why add human genes at all?” Nightingale asked as she cocked her head at him curiously.

“I guess it’s just sentimental,” he replied with a shrug.

“Mammals have strong reproductive instincts,” Liz added, Nightingale turning her pink eyes to the Borealan. “We have a powerful urge to reproduce, we need to raise children to feel fulfilled, to carry on our families.”

“Fulfilling instinctual imperatives,” the Bug chirped. “This, I can understand.”

One of the scientists peeked his head into the room, clearing his throat to get their attention.

“We’re making progress,” he announced. “It took some tinkering, but we’ve been able to separate the data stream that contains the information on how the genes interact with one another. The Jarilan machine ... organ ... artifact is starting to dump it all to the servers.”

“Have you figured out how it’s doing it yet?” Sousa asked, making his way to the door.

“No, but we have somewhere to start.”

He paused, as if remembering that Jamie and Liz were still there, turning back to them.

“This may take us a while,” he said apologetically. “Why don’t we take a recess? It’ll give you two time to think more carefully about how you want to proceed. There’s no rush, we can take as long as you need.”

“I’d like some time to clear my head,” Jamie said, Liz nodding.

“You know where we’ll be,” Sousa replied, Nightingale following behind him as he joined his team in the lab.

Liz and Jamie made their way outside and headed into the forest, sticking to the muddy track that led out of the settlement. So much information had been dumped on them so quickly. They needed time to process it, time to decide what they wanted to do. They walked as they went over the details, as Jamie had always found that the motion helped him focus.

“I can’t believe how quickly this is happening,” Liz said with a nervous giggle. There was a new spring in her step, as though she was brimming with an energy that she could barely contain. “Months of uncertainty, and now this. We’ve only been here for two days, and they’re already asking us what kind of baby we want.”

“We’re set on a kitten?” Jamie asked, his boots squelching in the damp soil as he walked through a patch of ferns that was attempting to reclaim the burgeoning road.

“If you don’t have any objections,” she replied. She was being considerate, but he could tell how enamored she was with the idea. “I know you weren’t exactly thrilled by the prospect of me finding a donor on Borealis, but this way, you’ll be the father. It’ll be just you and me, your genes, and mine.”

“I think a kitten is a great idea,” he replied, her smile widening. “You’ll be able to carry it, feed it, it’ll be the real deal. No surrogates, no donors, no adoptions. If we want to put those reproductive instincts of yours to bed, then we should accept nothing less.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be love at first sight,” she insisted as she hopped deftly over a root. “Remember how adorable I was when I was a girl?”

“Yeah, you were cute alright,” he chuckled as the memories of her furry little face came flooding back to him. Borealan kittens retained their coat of fur until adolescence, making them look even more like cats than they did in adulthood. When he had met Liz in the school playground so many years ago, she had been a pudgy, fluffy little girl wearing a sundress covered in duck patterns. She looked like she had walked right out of the pages of a children’s picture book.

“Do we want a boy or a girl?” Jamie asked, Liz blinking her emerald eyes at him.

“Gosh, I hadn’t even thought of that!” she replied. “I guess ... I know my way around being a girl, I know what it’s like to be torn between two worlds, two different cultures. I know how it feels to have body image issues, to navigate the confusion that is Borealan puberty.”

“Puberty isn’t too pleasant for us either,” Jamie joked, Liz giving him a gentle whip with her long tail as she walked beside him.

“I think I’d do a better job of raising a girl,” she continued, the gentle breeze blowing her cropped hair. “There’s so much I could tell her that I wish someone had told me at that age. I think you’d make a great dad for a little girl, too,” she added.

“Yeah?” he asked, his cheeks starting to warm as she glanced down at him.

“You were great with me when I was a kitten. You were always so patient, so protective of me, and you’ve only grown more pragmatic as you’ve gotten older. I know you’ll do the same for our kid.”

“I hope she’ll like me,” he continued, peering up at the leafy canopy above. “Do you think she’ll know that I’m different from you two?”

“Nah,” Liz insisted, reaching down to ruffle his blonde hair. “Kids aren’t even aware of that stuff. I didn’t even know that I was an alien until I was about ten years old. Earth and humans were all I knew, so it was my normal.”

“What about Borealis?” he asked, pausing to lean against the rough bark of one of the monolithic tree trunks. He knew that Liz lacked his stamina, and she took a seat on a nearby root, taking a break as she waited for him to elaborate. “When your parents took you back to Borealis, it was rough ... for both of us. Like you said, Earth was all you had ever known, and they just tore you away from that. You’ve told me that you don’t resent them for what they did, that you thought it was necessary, even if they could have done more to soften the blow. Would you take our kid back to Borealis at some point?”

Liz thought about it for a moment, scratching her chin with her claw as she stared into the distance. It was a tough question. Jamie could see her brow furrowing as she considered.

“Being a Borealan comes with its own set of challenges,” she finally replied. “We have instincts, urges to form packs, to dominate others. It’s just how we’re wired. We’re naturally strong, aggressive, we’re built for an environment far harsher than Earth’s.” She paused again, her tail whipping back and forth through the ferns behind her. “Learning what it means to be a Borealan, learning to understand myself, that knowledge was invaluable. My folks practice tough love, a parenting style that comes naturally to Borealans, but one that I fundamentally disagree with. It’s the idea that allowing a child to be upset – to be frightened and angry – is acceptable as long as they benefit down the line. It’s punishing them when what they really need is your support, all in the name of toughening them up,” she said as she exposed her teeth in a snarl. “That’s what I’d do differently.”

“So, you would consider taking them back to visit Borealis, but you’d do it in a way that’s supportive rather than throwing them in the deep end and telling them to swim?”

“That about covers it,” she replied with a nod. “What my parents did worked out for me, but I can’t agree with their methods.”

“I guess that means I’d be tagging along,” he added, Liz stifling a chuckle with a furry hand.

“The idea of you visiting Borealis is an ... interesting one,” she giggled. “I’ll be able to repay you for all the times you looked out for me when we were kids.”