Chapter 2 #2
Sure, they couldn’t erase the memory data, which his early research proved nearly a century ago.
So, his team developed an effective strategy to make sure the original vector’s NAM stayed repressed while also accepting their programming since it accessed the same gene sequences as for memory suppression.
Isolating the necessary genes, psion-splicing in their proprietary LifeLikeTM programming, and ensuring only their programming’s expression during activation proved to be his team’s biggest hurdles.
They used AI simulations to run thousands of experiments before they ever brought the experiments into the real world.
Fortunately, they were able to decommission the clones the moment the failure markers appeared—before the vector ever opened its eyes and it became an ethical dilemma.
When his team finally tried a live activation, they were confident that the vector’s memory was repressed.
The clone opened its eyes a blank slate. They’d succeeded!
The next challenge was depositing actual information, like language, into the human genome, and even trait expression if, say, the customer didn’t prefer the original vector’s eye color.
Truly, the applications were endless. Sharing that bit of genetic engineering with the government was part of what got him the final approvals he needed to take CHOICElover to market.
His work had ultimately benefited humanity.
Not only did CHOICElover pave the way for an entire new industry, it outshone every other competitor in every way, from its innovative technology to its rigorous testing—a large part of why he found the woman's existence so concerning.
He clears his throat, waiting for an answer. Lextr and Tommy share a glance.
“I synthesized the damage, yes,” Lextr says.
“I hypothesized that the old plasmid storage vectors from that period might have stability issues. They maintained integrity during the replication process, but during the accelerated protein compounding phase, the specification period to be exact, a slight increase in the electrical transmission caused our LifeLike protocols to be overridden by the sample’s original code expression.
” Lextr shrugs as if what he’s saying isn’t startling.
“We knew sending varying electrical synapses to an unstable DNA source might have unintended consequences. This was all in the experiment design you approved.”
“Could you try a bio-gel substrate next time?” Tommy asks.
“Wait, I thought the DNA purity of the pre-2050 line was the variable?” Res6 asks, pointedly ignoring the interjection from his assistant.
Lextr sighs. “It is. One of the several factors listed. Maintaining NAM solvency seems to require a perfect storm of factors.”
“No more experiments.” Res6 sighs. “As best we can tell, if during the specification phase, the sample doesn’t remain stable during a variable electrical load, it may cause our programming to fail and lead to the expression of the sample’s stored NAM?”
“Pretty much,” Lextr confirms. “I ran a comparison using a random sample of CHOICElover units from the past few decades and the sample we extracted from your unit. They’re identical except for this area here where you can clearly see our LifeLike sequence.
Our mRNA instructions appear to be dormant, giving the subject access to their retained NAM data, causing memory expression.
I’m adding these data points to our catalogue of failure markers should it become relevant at some point. ”
Lextr points to two of the samples on the screen, which enlarge, and he takes a section of each, comparing them side by side. Beneath, a series of nucleotide codes appear. “I reviewed your early research since your trials never brought back a vector . . . wholly restored.”
It’s true that his failures in the early days never pointed to a true NAM expression—like Electra, where the subject wakes up believing they’re still the same person they were in the past. Just enough NAM expression that the subject might have some lingering memory resonance—which would have been problematic for his product design.
They needed complete control, and with what essentially amounted to an echo of the original vector’s memories, that wasn’t possible.
Lextr toggles through different windows until the experiment design is displayed on the screen. “I had some ideas about how we might achieve a complete restoration—”
“Hold on,” Res6 says, scraping his nails across his scalp. “I wasn’t trying to resurrect someone!”
Tommy frowns. “I thought you said testing the hypothesis was prudent—I can check my notes.”
“Not now, Tommy,” he says, keeping his focus trained on Lextr. “Couldn’t we have proved it with an AI model? Now I have a real human woman from the past in my unit having a mental breakdown as we speak!” If he isn’t careful, he’ll be the one having a mental collapse.
He should have read Lextr’s experiment design more thoroughly.
He signed off on it thinking his head scientist might pinpoint a genetic alteration that would allow CHOICElover to produce manupartners exhibiting manneristic idiosyncrasies that defined generations and cultures past, giving users a more realistic, unique, and customizable experience.
It’s what GROW was doing with their Realer Than Real line that evidently led to their mishaps.
Naturally, he assumed he’d succeed where GROW failed.
You couldn’t just be satisfied with your success. He covers his eyes as if his hand might block out his stupid decision.
Lextr frowns, his gaze flicking past the glass doors to the cabinets where the medical supplies are kept. “This is precisely why I suggested decommissioning her. The more time passes from her activation, the harder it is going to be.”
Tommy gasps. “She’s a real person, Lextr. Sometimes you frighten me.”
Is it possible Lextr has a point? Could he decommission her?
Put her out of her misery? He thought about her trembling lip on the ride to his lab—he’s sure those were tears welling in her eyes when he left.
It would probably be better for all of them if he just gave the order and let Lextr go to his unit and deal with the woman.
She doesn’t belong in this time anyway. Decommissioning her will save him so much trouble.
What they did is wrong on so many levels.
What right do they have to resurrect the dead?
The scientific implications, though . . .
The what-ifs . . . Time stills and his heart thumps out a set of insistent beats.
He feels a little heavier than he did a moment ago.
Like he’s swimming through liquid mercury.
That’s what they did. They brought back a woman who’d been dead for hundreds of years using a DNA sample. A dead person.
Jerme.
Though he hasn’t thought of his brother’s name in weeks, it flashes in his mind like a lightning strike across a clear blue sky.
Jerme, Jerme, Jerme. It eclipses all other rational thoughts.
Was his subconscious guiding him all this time, leading to the invention that would give his brother a second chance? Was bringing Jerme back possible?
No, that’s insane. Scientifically unethical. He already has one person from the past who shouldn’t be here to deal with.
But it’s his brother.
Slow down, Res6. Think rationally. Jerme is gone. But he’s never fully rational about the people he cares about. Well, the person. The one person Res6 had, who is now dead and gone. Has been for nearly a century.
With a mind of their own, his feet carry him out of the conference room into the larger open laboratory, Lextr and Tommy behind him.
He scans the room, glaring at the dozen lab technicians who share the space with him and Lextr.
“Everybody out!” Lextr and Tommy jump but move to follow the other employees out the door, halting when he barks, “Not you two.”
After the lab finally goes quiet, he turns to them.
“Based on our successful experiment, we have the power to resurrect the dead. Is that what I’m gathering?
” Because if that is what Lextr is telling him .
. . what if he brought Jerme back? Would it be ethical?
Legal? Obviously not. But he already has one person from the past to hide from NHOS. What’s one more?
But to really go through with it . . . Are ethical limitations or man-made rules really enough to stop him if it means seeing Jerme again?
He could do things differently. Be the brother Jerme needs.
Fix everything. His heart squeezes, and there’s a little voice inside his head that feels like it’s trying to tell him something.
Bad idea, Res6. He resolutely ignores it.
“You okay, sir?” Tommy asks. “You’ve gone ashen.”
He feels like he’s floating. The prospect of another chance with his brother is causing a not altogether unpleasant dizzy sensation.
He’d thought inventing CHOICElover would be enough to atone, but with each passing day inching closer to another anniversary of his brother’s death, he isn’t sure.
What if he brings Jerme back, then focuses all his attention on getting Jerme the help he needs so he won’t leave him again?
He turns his attention to Lextr. “Answer me. Can we bring people back from the dead?”
Lextr has no trouble meeting his eye. “Not reliably.”
Res6 slumps back against the counter, the brief glimpse of joy leaking out of him. It’s not possible—he got his hopes up. Electra was a fluke. Jerme is still lost to him, which only emphasizes how alone he’s been.
“But . . .” Lextr says, which Tommy responds to with a disapproving frown. “But with a few more experiments, it might be possible.”
He perks up. There’s still the issue of the perfect storm Lextr mentioned since Jerme’s DNA is from the modern era, unlike Electra’s unaltered sample. “What about someone from our lifetime?”
Lextr scratches his chin. “I suppose if the conditions were just right—”
“This has to violate countless NHOS laws, not to mention the ethical implications of playing Zorg.” Tommy’s lips press together in a disapproving line.
Is that what he’s doing? Playing Zorg?
“Oh, Tommy, don’t be so moral. Just think, studying Res6’s faulty unit for this special project will give us a perfect excuse not to decommission it,” Lextr offers.
Tommy groans, running his hand over his face, grumbling, “I don’t want to be a part of this.”
At Lextr’s suggestion, Res6, or at least his conscience, perks up.
“Agreed then, we’ll keep the woman.” Within moments, he’s at his station.
His screen illuminates and a series of system access points populate.
He clicks the double helix-shaped icon that calls up the DNA database.
Behind him, the door clicks shut. He glances back to find Lextr peering over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about Tommy. He’ll come around. Or you can fire him and find a new assistant,” Lextr offers, nodding to the screen and the ominously flashing cursor. “Who are we bringing back?”
Res6 ignores his guilt and the nagging voice as he types the identifier into the database. In a flash, the file populates. The screen displays Jerme’s bright, grinning face, a perfect mirror to his own.
Beside him, Lextr gasps, “Good Zorg, sir. I didn’t know you had a twin.”