A Sinner's Eden

***Earth, China, Asian Administrative Center***

***Everhart***

“Let go! I can walk on my own, you imbeciles!”

The two meatheads didn’t listen as they frogmarched me into the office of some useless administrator. Not caring about my feelings on the matter, they forced me down on a chair facing a man in a neat designer suit.

He was well-built and I could see the first grey hairs settling in, indicating he was in dire need of some genetic modification. This was certainly an indication that he wasn’t as high up the chain of command as I initially feared. The man looked like most of the well-off administrative middle class nowadays. Sadly, it wasn’t a guarantee for competency.

When I recognized him, I reigned myself in, greeting him with a nod. “Head Administrator Stanton.”

They brought me to the superior above my superior. Not the head of the entire project. Maybe it was still possible to clear up this situation and get back to my life’s work.

Stanton ran a hand through his hair in an exasperated gesture as he rifled through a folder in front of him. Then he looked at me and closed the folder before placing his palms in a prayer-like gesture while he studied me.

“Professor Everhart, do you have anything… anything… to say for yourself? I read the reports, but still find myself baffled at how it could get to this point. Just what went through your head when you took things into your own hands? Anyone else I would have signed off to be thrown into a deep, dark hole to be forgotten. But the upper brass is breathing down my neck in this case, so I had to talk to you in person.”

I opened my mouth in an attempt to answer but was rudely interrupted by Stanton who hadn’t been done with his sermon.

“You overstepped your authority, Professor! First, you hid that testing site ‘A’ managed to break free of our monitoring. From what the investigators pieced together, this was a deliberate act on your part. Then you commanded military assets you had no right to set into motion – without consultation of your betters. This caused the whole situation to dissolve further. Worse, you made a deal with leading individuals on site ‘T’ and revealed the location of one of Earth’s hidden weapon caches to them!”

He shook his head. “You had at most the authority to negotiate for assistance with individual exiles to further your research. One-way communication – if I may remind you. Not engage with ‘T’s’ leadership. Now, testing site ‘H’ and ‘J’ is as good as lost to us no matter the outcome. At best, it will take years till new subjects settle at the site. Why didn’t you give us a report as soon as you lost control of the supercomputer at ‘A’? More proficient people could have dealt with the situation.”

More proficient? Who else could be more proficient than someone of my intellect? There was no way an imbecile who couldn’t even explain how to rearrange amino acids would be more qualified.

I stopped myself right before stating the obvious, knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere with someone in Stanton’s position.

“You don’t understand,” I answered quickly once I collected my thoughts. “How could any of the higher-ups have understood!? We are working on groundbreaking topics. Medicine and permanent genetic health improvements for the whole world depend upon what we do. And maybe we will be able to claim Tirnanog as our own someday.”

The administrator hit the desk with his open palm. “You have drawn Earth into another conflict with the colonies, Professor! Considerable resources were used to ensure the current status quo and you have ruined everything with your actions. Somehow you managed to get us into a position where we either have to choose to do nothing and lose the fragile control we had, commit fully to your idiocy, or admit that a single man got out of control. It’s as clear as day that an egghead like you should have never gotten access to such extensive facilities without supervision. I don’t understand how anyone could have been stupid enough to give you the possibility to insert yourself into our military chain of command. Are you simply delusional or got overconfident with the resources you were given access to?”

“I did what was best for our research and used the available resources!” I leaned forward and tried to stand up, but one of the meatheads placed a hand on my shoulder and quickly forced me back down with irresistible strength. After all, they had all the necessary modifications for their job.

“Do you believe anyone who has access to a communication channel should be allowed to start ordering troop movements?” Stanton asked with an incredulous expression.

“The units on site should have dealt with the matter easily enough,” I defended myself. “I couldn’t have known that some of the subjects are capable of competing with the best we have to offer. If you had given me the information-”

“Scientists just as smart as you are looking into the matter, Everhart,” Stanton retorted. “The genetic improvement project has been running for centuries and every now and then we got surprising results. You are underestimating the people of Tirnanog. We aren’t conducting our research around three corners because we want to, Professor, but because we have to. The individuals you want to know about are dangerous and we don’t want them here on Earth. We don’t want them thinking of coming here. ‘We’ want them to forget about ‘us’. But your stupidity surely turned their attention our way.”

For a moment, I was left stumped. They had withheld information from me? How was I supposed to do my job if I wasn’t allowed to see the whole picture?

Shaking my head, I reminded myself that this was not the time to question the organisation of information handling within the research institute.

I leaned forward, desperate to make him see reason. “You do not understand. The two subjects. We need to get our hands on them. Or a sample at least! Until now our technology could only incorporate Tirnanog’s carbon-based D.N.A. into a subject. But we now have two cases of perfect synthesis! D.N.A. merged into two double helices of carbon and silicon – with the carbon support enabling silicon processes at low temperatures! The new molecule encodes more than double the genetic information within the same space as a normal carbon double helix! They are perfect chimaeras of carbon and silicon-based life. We had such cases before. Singular events, but these two are capable of reproduction! It’s like God himself reached down from the heavens to place his hands on his creation. With this, we can create an entirely new type of human independent of artificial support. How would you not approve of my actions to secure such valuable research?”

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The administrator shook his head. “You just do not understand the problem. You have great talents in the laboratory, but I see now that you are totally unaware of the political ramifications of your actions. Worse, you believe you have the capability to make decisions in these matters.”

Stanton looked down at the folder and using the index, he pulled out a sheet of paper revealing a simplified schematic of the two intertwined double helices I was still trying to make sense of. One was based on carbon, while the silicon one was arranged around it like a protective layer. Yet, both were connected, indicating some mind-boggling chemistry I had so far only known from certain algae.

“How did you get your hands on my work?” I complained, but the hand on my shoulder reminded me of the situation I was in.

Stanton didn’t bother to answer the how and instead looked over my research while he spoke. “I am sure those with more knowledge than I will look into your work, Mr. Everhart. If they deem it necessary, I am sure the government will authorize the procurement of a specimen – using the proper channels. Be glad that your unique skills are still of worth. After having to deal with your clusterfuck, I would love to throw you through the wormhole myself. For now, you will return to your accommodations until I've had the time to review your current work process. There is no question that your position was left… hmm… too uncontrolled. Once there are sufficient security checks and supervision in place, you will return to your work with someone breathing down your neck at all times.”

I balled my fists. “You cannot do this!”

Stanton waved his hand and the two goons pulled me out of the chair.

“You don’t understand! None of you understand!” I screamed and bucked while they pulled me through the exit and towards the elevator. Neither they nor Stanton cared. Just why didn’t they understand?

I was exhausted by the time we returned to the cell block where I had been forced to stay the last week.

A man in white clothes was waiting at the entrance to my accommodations. With him, he had a trolley loaded with medical appliances. He wore a cheerful smile while he studied the various substances at his disposal. “I was informed that Mr. Everhart was a little too excited during his meeting with the management. I am here to give him something to calm down.”

One of the guards nodded and watched while the man prepared a syringe with various components. My eyes flicked over the bottles on the tray and I shook my head as I recognised one in particular. “That isn’t some relaxant you are mixing. What are you doing? That’s a beta-blocker! You can’t give me this!”

Was he trying to kill me?

“Why don’t you shut him up, gentlemen? I have years of experience as an anaesthesiologist and Mr. Everhart is obviously in distress,” the stranger asked, apparently completely oblivious to the grave mistake he had made.

Before I could explain that what the so-called anaesthesiologist was mixing up was just as likely to erase random parts of my memory as to turn me into a drooling idiot, one of the meatheads covered my mouth while the other held me.

I squirmed and screamed to no avail, even trying to bite the hand of the meathead holding me, but as a security guard, he had gotten a skin modification. It felt like trying to chew on tire rubber. There was no getting out of their grasp while the man pushed the needle into my vein and nodded with a smile on his face.

“Thanks, gentlemen. Doing my work is so much easier when I have help.”

I felt myself relaxing, my mind drifting off while they threw me into my cell.

“Say, you guys don’t happen to know a nice restaurant in the vicinity? I hooked up with the pretty receptionist at the entrance checkpoint and want to treat her to something nice. The problem is, I was just transferred to this new position from the Tibet Gateway and I must say you people have it so much nicer here. All that doom and gloom with the exiles get to you…”

***Tirnanog, Jeng, The Ancient Grove ***

***Sarah***

The loud boom of an explosion forced me to duck deeper into the trench.

Pebbles and dirt rained down on my helmet, making me wish our airships would finally decide to do something about the cursed mortar position the Thich had put up a few hundred metres ahead. Once I was sure there was a lull in the bombardment, I gripped my shovel tighter and began digging like a molerat.

“Stupid motherfuckers! Do they really want to attract all the wildlife within a one hundred kilometre radius?”

“I bet that's exactly what they are trying to do,” Brook confirmed from behind me, where he was also shovelling like a champion. “Makes me wonder why we are still here. If we run now, the Thich can die on their hill of ants.”

“Shut up and dig or do I have to question your loyalty!?” I shot back while my shovel easily stabbed into the earth thanks to my strength mutations. The dirt was hauled up and out of the trench in a steady rhythm where it added up to a little rampart and provided additional protection.

Trench warfare had been known to be a slow, dirty, and ugly affair throughout history.

All the other clans avoided static warfare like a plague. The longer you stayed at one spot, the easier it became for the creatures of the wild to make you their next meal.

But unlike the others, Hochberg had taken to the philosophy and countered the weaknesses with specialized mutations. Like me, most warriors and workers were highly specialized in strength mutations. It was what allowed our clan to build our home, the twin fortresses.

Where a normal human would have struggled with moving earth, it felt like nothing more than light powder snow to me. As long as we didn't hit solid rock, everything was fine.

Today, we had already worked our way closer to the enemy position by several hundred metres. All without leaving cover once and while going in a zigzag course so we wouldn't expose ourselves.

Several warriors were digging the trench while workers brought in granite slabs to cover the trench system meter by meter.

We Hochberg were known for building almost impregnable fortresses overnight, so this was standard procedure.

I grinned at the thought. My people hadn’t taken a single offensive action, but we already managed to pressure several entrenched Thich positions. With every meter we advanced on the enemy, they had to consider whether they had to move their mortar further back.

If the Thich stayed for too long and we reached them, they would have to fight a battle on our terms. The further they moved their mortar back, the less use they would get out of it against the Jeng.

The wailing sound of more shells coming in caused me to throw myself to the ground, but this time something was different.

In addition to the bombardment, I could feel the footsteps of heavy infantry through the earth. They were coming – probably to contest the steadily advancing trench.

When the first head appeared above the rampart, I threw one of the heavier stones which had impeded my excavation work. It was a slow throw, but the Thich yelped nonetheless when a 300kg piece of solid rock came hurling in his direction.

Brook was the first on the rampart, where he confirmed what I already knew before he slid back down into the trench. “They are doing a sortie!”

I and several others along the newest trench segment readied the stone slabs and covered the trench right before the charging Thich stormed over our position.

A spear found its way through a gap between the slabs and I broke off the tip.

Fingers grasped at the slab as Thich warriors tried to uncover our trench. But while the upper side was polished and smooth, providing no convenient holds, my side had a few carved handholds.

It was our job to hold out while the warriors in the trench further back bombarded our enemies with rocks. I left it to Brook to hold the granite cover in place while I reached for the hand trying to find a better grip on the gap.

My fingers closed around a wrist and I pulled down and sideways, snapping the bone and tendons of a warrior with lesser mutations. Then I was holding a lower arm and threw it down before I went for the next one.

I already knew this would be a long day.

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