Chapter 7 #2
Res6 narrows his eyes as he studies the other man.
Does Lextr think that by overseeing the Jerme experiment, Res6 is going to take credit for his breakthrough?
While the project began under his own direction at CHOICElover, Lextr would be owed the credit if it went public.
It was Lextr’s experiment design that led to Electra.
It occurs to him then: A breakthrough of this magnitude would be monumental—granted, their Jerme replication study must succeed first. Yet Lextr could never share it with the world, considering its problematic legality. In the collaborative spirit of science, the man merits praise for his efforts.
How did Res6 overlook that? By getting so absorbed in your pursuits that you failed to observe your surroundings—again. Losing Jerme should have taught him that lesson. He’ll do better. Starting now, his conscience nudges. Fuck.
“Lextr, if this works, if we can really replicate your findings, it opens up a whole new field of memory science. Consider this: If we could effectively manipulate memory, we could potentially suppress or even replace a person’s unpleasant experiences with a memory of their choosing.
And that’s only one possibility. Even if we can’t share your work directly, the possibilities of where it can lead are endless. ”
Lextr’s face lights up with a huge smile, his green lip stain contrasting against his bright white teeth. “It feels significant, doesn’t it?”
Res6 nods, fondly recalling the day he brought Lextr onto his team nearly fifty years ago.
CHOICElover had already established itself as the premium brand, but with Lextr’s drive and uniquely analytical mind, together they pushed the science.
The advancements came one after the other.
“I appreciate you taking on this challenge,” he says.
“Sure thing, sir.” Lextr frowns slightly as they make their way to the small Neuronic Gene Infusion lab.
“What it is?” he asks.
“You’re prepared that we may have to run through a few failed trials before we achieve success?”
As a scientist, he accepts that failure is a natural part of the work.
As a brother, however, failure isn’t something Res6 planned to think about.
What will he do with a copy of his brother that is a compliant, programmed blank slate?
Decommission him? A shiver racks him. Even if it wasn’t the real Jerme, like it was the real Electra, could he do it?
The thought makes the tightness in his chest that is always lingering below the surface constrict. “I’m aware failure’s possible.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be here should we need to deal with the consequences.
” Lextr means recycling failed half-grown Jermes.
It’s a horrifying thought. “Since we don’t have the DNA purity factor on our side, I expect we’ll run through a few synthesized DNA trials to establish a baseline and weed out conditions that lead to early failures before we use an organic sample from the original vector. ”
“Good thinking. What area of the brain did Electra’s sample come from?” Res6’s brow creases.
“I believe a preserved distal axon terminal from her prefrontal cortex. It’s possible that a sample from any area of the brain would do.
” Lextr pauses his work, considering. “Maybe not any area, but considering the relative by-comparison sample collection date listed . . .” his shoulders tense because they both know it means the date of his brother’s death.
Lextr clears his throat, continuing. “There should be enough viable samples in the storage to run a few dozen trials, I would think.”
“I’ll confirm how many in case we need to use them,” he says as he presses his palm to the palm scanner beside the door.
When Res6 designated the space for the trials, he requested the security protocols be set up so that only he and Lextr had access.
The pad lights up green, and the lock clicks open.
They enter the first room, strip out of their clothing, and pass through the Steri-Light into the staging chamber.
Once the system has confirmed the elimination of potential contaminants, they slip on their biohazard containment suits.
During sample preparation, it is critical that no foreign bodies that might inadvertently contaminate the selected vector’s DNA enter the production lab.
Once stable enough to grow, the sample is impervious to defects.
The workspace is considerably smaller than Res6’s main lab.
Two walls are lined with metal tables, regular and refrigerated supply cabinets, and particle panes.
A third wall has a long table with built-in chambers and equipment for the different stages of synthesis, which resemble smaller versions of the large production lines in CHOICElover’s main biomanufacturing facility.
The first sample using synthetically constructed DNA sits in his patented Tissue Tangler, the mRNA incubation oscillator he designed that led to his first notable discovery in the field of gene sculpting.
The next step in the process is to transfer the sample to the bioprinting chamber for replication, the final phase to occur in the lab.
He carefully makes the transfer and seals the bioprinting chamber’s door.
As the lights come on, the sample quivers, growing infinitesimally with each passing second.
In half an hour, the sample will have grown ten times its current size and be ready to package and take home for activation.
“Should we go ahead and begin the next trial?”
Lextr is at the metal table with the activation pad, ready to input the updated electrical variation pattern. He nods, disconnecting the pad from the sensor. “We should. I’ll get the next base started.”
As Lextr powers up the DNA synthesizer, Res6 opens the DNA catalogue and calls up his brother’s file.
He scrolls to the bottom, clicking on Jerme’s BioKey.
The samples, many of which were taken within the hour after his death, are each labeled with the date and method of extraction, as well as a series of codes indicating purity and degradation status.
There are hundreds of samples in various conditions.
He filters the list for viable samples from the brain region and scans it.
Glial Tissue
Synaptic maintenance and pruning—no.
Myelin Sheath Remnants
Axon insulation and routing—possibly as a last resort. He flags the one viable sample.
Cerebellar Purkinje Cell
Motor memory—no. Oh, here’s one.
Prefrontal Cortex Tissue
Possible identity-relevant NAM storage. He flags the identifier, noting three viable samples. That’s it? He takes a deep breath. Moving on.
Enteric Nervous System Tissue
Gut brain—no, flagging for incorrect categorization.
Olfactory Bulb Tissue
No, for obvious reasons. His heart jolts as his eyes land on the next sample. Jackpot!
Hippocampal Tissue
If anything will work, it’s the hub for memory formation. He flags the identifier—only two viable samples? Fuck. That can’t be it. He keeps scanning until finally landing on the last sample.
Axonal Segment
It doesn’t specify what brain region, but if that’s what worked to bring Electra back, he’ll pull the four listed samples.
The synthesized DNA will likely fail, but it’s worth a shot.
Then only ten viable samples? His stomach clenches.
Experiments sometimes take hundreds of trials, or in rare cases, thousands.
Electra woke up swearing on the first attempt using her DNA.
Granted, that success only came after dozens of failures from both the control and experiment groups.
Lextr comes to stand behind him. On the particle pane is a materials request addressed to the lead technician Bexly, his organic assets custodian who’s responsible for biological material preservation, including CHOICElover’s entire DNA stores.
“Only ten samples. I thought there’d be more,” Lextr says.
A knot is building in his throat. “Me too.”
Ten tries. That’s it—if he fails, Jerme will go back to being a memory.
An idea that exists only in his mind. He needs Jerme.
Life is becoming too much to navigate without him, and not just because of Electra.
If he’s being honest, he’s been aimlessly wading through a monotonous existence for a while now.
That’s probably the real reason he approved Lextr’s trial design.
But what did he expect to happen? Was he thinking of Jerme all along?
At least in his subconscious? That has to be it, because it can’t be that he was looking for something to jolt him back to life.
This is why he needs Jerme back—nothing is clear anymore without him.
He has ten tries, and failure isn’t an option.