Upgrade(73)

“Can it actually fly?”

“No. But the wings flap. Unfortunately, it isn’t capable of breathing fire.”

“You tried?”

“We explored the idea. There are creatures in the animal kingdom that can certainly withstand temperature extremes. We looked at the genome for the Pompeii worm, which lives near hydrothermal vents in temperatures above 170 degrees Fahrenheit. We looked at Alaskan wood frogs and the water bear tardigrades, which can survive down to almost absolute zero. But there’s no internal biological structure in the animal kingdom, at least that I’ve discovered, that can withstand a thousand degrees.” He laughed. “And I wouldn’t begin to know how to build an organ capable of producing and expelling fire.”

“Did it gestate in an existing species or is it lab grown?”

“Lab grown in a synthetic, freestanding uterus. We call him Smaug.”

It didn’t look like the mighty, mythical dragon. It looked, well…kind of pitiful.

Its skin was spiky, hard, and pebbled. I suspected they’d borrowed some DNA from the crocodile genome. Its hind paws resembled the legs of a Komodo dragon.

The creature’s eyes opened—reptilian and otherworldly. It gazed at us through the glass.

“This is a highly imperfect creature,” Feld said. “As it grew, its mass increased a bit faster than its bone cross-sections could handle. We just finished somatically editing the bones to increase their size and density. Should know if we were successful in the next few weeks.”

The dragon moved out from under the palm fronds, dipped its angular head to a small pool of water, and began to drink.

“Why are you here?” Feld asked.

“Seen the news out of Glasgow?”

“Of course. I heard the military is building a perimeter around the city. They’re fencing everyone in.”

I brought him up to speed on everything, and when I finished, he threw his head back and laughed for a long time. Until there were tears in his eyes.

“Your mother,” Feld said. “Kills two hundred million people, wrecks an entire field of science—and with it my life’s work—then fakes her own death just for another chance to step back up to the plate and swing even harder.” He sighed, gathering himself. “So this upgrade works?”

“It works on some.”

“How did she achieve this?”

“No idea, but if I had to guess? She ran her Story of You biodata through an exascale processor.”

“Yes, of course.” His eyes lit up, and I caught a glimpse of the scientist behind the criminal. “She had the data set. Probably built an algorithm to reverse-engineer DNA code from the physical attributes of her customers. Wow. She really did it. Actually built a program to extrapolate genotype from phenotype.” I watched him thinking it through. “People can lie on a questionnaire. She probably designed spiders to scrape public records and compare death certificates. Social media. Hack a few insurance companies and compare her data to their medical records. Get a reasonable confidence ratio.” There was jealousy behind his glee.

“My sister is going to release my mother’s upgrade.”

“How?”

“A transmissible, asymptomatic virus.”

“What’s the R-naught?”

“Almost nine.”

Feld shook his head, impressed. “Interesting times ahead.”

“I need a lab.”

He shrugged. “Think stopping her is really worth the trouble?” For a fraction of a second, I saw the bottomless well of grief in his eyes. “We’re going down, Logan. It’s too late to bail water. Not that we ever really tried. And there are no lifeboats. Live like the world is ending, because it is.” He stared at me for a moment. “I didn’t change your mind, did I?”

“No.”

“Well,” he said, looking down at the dead men. “I guess mi casa, su casa.”



* * *



—

The primary lab took up several thousand square feet in the corner of the old Walmart—the walls lined with servers and an array of DNA printing machines.

Feld showed me to a 3D interface gene station, logged me into their system, and left me to play.

Using the follicle I’d pulled from Kara’s hairbrush, my custom program had completed a comparative functional analysis between my genome and hers. She had targeted select genes in her DNA, further modifying their expression far beyond the thresholds set by our mother’s initial upgrade—primarily those gene network systems that controlled concentration, pattern recognition, and general cognition.

I uploaded Kara’s new genome analysis to Feld’s AI interface, which quickly collated a hit list of modifications and the corresponding target organs and gene systems.

If I wanted a chance at stopping Kara, I would have to ramp up my abilities to, or beyond, her level. She could’ve gently made the modifications, one by one, over a period of months. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time. Whatever I came up with would have to be fast and dirty.

But I had an idea, because everything I had ever read or learned about genetic engineering was now at my fingertips.

For most of our genes and regulatory sequences, we have two copies. My mother’s primary upgrade had kept to nature’s plan, modifying only one copy of the gene. But modifying both, also known as increasing gene dosage, was a proven brute-force method for upping phenotypical expression—albeit a risky one. For instance, a 50 percent increase in gene dosage on chromosome 21q altered the timing, pattern, and extent of development, creating the genetic disorder known as Down syndrome.