Of Royal Descent (15 page)

"I've never heard of a seventh sense.  What is that?" I asked, referring to the earlier topic of conversation.

"It is the highly controversial ability of a person to enter into a spiritual realm and commune with spirit beings."

My initial reaction was to roll my eyes, but then I remembered the dream of my mother.  That had definitely felt real. 
Had I actually met her?
  It seemed impossible.

Bradbury sensed my lack of enthusiasm.

"Modern science is not yet capable of substantiating these claims, but there are signs that point to the possibility of the seventh sense.  Much like any great scientific discovery, one must keep an open mind," he said.

He gestured to one of the larger machines
, and I approached it slowly.  As I came closer, I realized I was staring at the back of some type of chair.  Bare feet were sticking out on the other side, and I walked around to face their owner.

A man covered in wires and electronic gadgets sat in front of me, eyes closed. 

"This isn't my grandfather," I said, looking up at Bradbury.

"What
makes you think so?" he asked, eyes twinkling merrily.

"F
or one thing, this guy can't be more than a few years older than me," I said, torn between being severely relieved and highly agitated at wasting my time.

"Doyle, do you recall the list of shadows caused by this disorder?" asked Bradbury.

"Yeah, why?"

"When a person has the full disorder, all of those shadows are amplified.  One of those symptoms
is self-healing properties.  The body constantly works to repair damaged tissue, keeping the appearance of the patient the same as they appeared at the time they developed the disorder," Bradbury explained.

"So you want me to believe that this guy here," I said, pointing to the stranger in the chair, "is really my long-lost grandfather?"

"There are other diseases that distort the appearance of age.  Both Progeria and Werner Syndrome make the patient appear older, just as Kallmann Syndrome makes a person appear younger.  Is it so hard to believe that a disorder you have never heard of until now can produce similar effects?"

Hmm.

I looked down at the man Bradbury claimed to be William Clark.  I squinted.  He did resemble the image in the photograph.  I leaned in closer and focused intently on his facial features.  I guess he kind of looked like me.

William jerked suddenly
, and I jumped backward, knocking into an empty booth.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," Bradbury began.  "These wires are designed to specifically manipulate individual receptors so we can determine likely triggers for involuntary shading."

"In other words?" I choked out, recovering from the scare of William's jolt.

"He might jump," said Bradbury, smiling.

I looked back at William.  He remained as serene as before the convulsion.

"What's the difference between us?" I asked, needing to know, but not wanting to.

"How do you mean?"

"Why did he get the disorder?  And why don't I have it?"

The two staff members in lab coats shot a glance at Bradbury before eying one another.

Bradbury beamed, exuding so much excitement that it almost knocked me over.

"I was hoping you would ask.  Might I start at the beginning?"

"Please," I answered.

The two employees seemed to move in unison toward the back of the room, where I noticed a door stood.

"You see, your grandfather was one of the original seven experimental subjects.  In the sixties, a team of
top scientists were commissioned by the government to develop a new weapon that they were hoping would bring an end to the Vietnam War.  During this time, research in the field of pheromones was just emerging.  And as luck would have it, two very intelligent gentlemen had discovered the source coding to human DNA just a handful of years before."

He began pacing the floor, growing more excited with every step.  I stood still and quiet,
allowing his words to soak in. 

"Leading scientists in both these fields met with experts of the day on the study of disease control.  The first strain of the Ebola virus had just been discovered in a small village in Zaire."

"Wait," I interjected, "I thought Ebola was a fairly new virus?" 

"No, you're probably thinking of the new strains that were discovered later.  To public knowledge, there are five strains in existence."

"To public knowledge?"

"The first
reported
strain is recorded to have been discovered in the 1970's.  However, the first strain, the Zaire strain, was actually discovered nearly a decade earlier.  Government officials suppressed knowledge, hoping to somehow use the new virus in warfare.  By, introducing the strain to other viral and bacterial contaminants, we were able to create an entirely new mutated strain.  In time, these leading scientists began clinical trials on live test subjects," answered Bradbury, as pleasantly and enthusiastically as if we were discussing plans for Christmas break.

"You see, between their three areas of expertise, they were able to create a super weapon using DNA and pheromone manipulation and injecting a viral cocktail into the subject's blood stream."

"The military shot my grandfather up with a perverse version of Ebola after experimental surgery?"  I asked skeptically.  I hadn't decided whether or not to take Bradbury at his word just yet.  It all seemed so far-fetched.

"When their animal testing proved successful, trials began on human subjects.  Yes, William was one of those very subjects."

William jerked again suddenly.  It didn't faze Bradbury, who continued right along with his explanation of events.

"Government officials were elated.  It looked like we were going to bring the war to a close after all.  But the human clinical trials produced side effects not shared by their animal counterparts.  There were... complications."

I began to feel sick.  My stomach started to pitch and roll.

"Mr. Hawthorne, you look unwell.  Please have a seat," suggested a concerned Edgar Bradbury, gesturing toward a chair opposite William.

"No, I'm okay.  Please continue.  What were the complications?"

Without skipping a beat, Bradbury picked up where he had left off.

"The human clinical trials were to endure for one year, with the subjects closely monitored.  After one year, provided no complications arose, the seven test subjects were scheduled to be deployed to Vietnam to win the war."

I smiled.  "Seven soldiers were to win the war?"

Bradbury smiled in return.  "They would have planned to send less, but they wanted to end it quickly.  As it was, clearance for deployment was never given.  To call them complications would be to put it lightly."

I stared at the floor. 
Why was it swaying like that?
  I rested my hand on the side of William's chair to keep from falling.

"The first complication was discovered almost immediately.  This disorder causes severe cravings for protein in patients.  It's absolutely essential for their self-healing.  During the initial test feeding, all seven subjects partially consumed live animals.  And within minutes, the animals began to reanimate."

"Wait, dude, live animals?  Reanimation?  You're telling me the animals turned into zombies?" I asked, skepticism oozing over my words.

"What I am saying is that
, unlike the animal test subjects, the human test subjects spread a much weaker mutation of the virus through their saliva glands."  He paused here, and my stomach lurched again.  I turned to sit in the chair he had offered earlier.

"The second complication was discovered nine months after testing began.  You see, of the original seven test subjects, one was even stronger than the team of scientists had prepared for.  He broke out of his holding cell the night of his injection."

William jerked again, violently this time.

Bradbury continued, "Test subject seven made it home, on foot, 15 miles away from the facility, in less than 20 minutes."

I thought about voicing my disbelief, or in the very least, asking him to elaborate on certain elements of his story, but I found myself growing distracted by the desire to retch all over the floor.  I sat as still as I could and waited for Bradbury to continue.

"His wife was at home
, as he knew she would be.  Later, when she was questioned, she stated she had heard scratching at the door.  She ran to answer it, praying it wasn't an army official coming to report the accidental death of her husband during the experiment.  What she found instead, was her husband - only she did not recognize him.  She became paralyzed with fear and he, under the intense influence of the pheromones, raped his wife."

He paused again and handed me a trash can just in time for me to aim a tidal wave of vomit into it.  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. 

"Shall I continue?" asked Bradbury.

I nodded.

"Nine months later, a baby boy was born to the wife.  As you can imagine, this caused much interest among the group who were working on the project.  The baby was seized by the government for the first month of his life.  After extensive testing, it was discovered that a dormant version of the pure virus - that is to say, not the weakened virus spread by the salivary glands, but the full virus - resided in the child.  Because the child showed no traits of an active virus, he was given back to his mother.  However, based on the severity of genetic material and endocrine system manipulation that had been evident in the child during testing, the team had a theory.  They believed the child would begin to display symptoms of shading during puberty when within a certain distance to his father, who wouldn't be able to help secreting low level aggregation pheromones."

I picked my head up long enough to ask, "What do you mean by
shading
?"

"Patients undergo three distinct phases during the process of developing the active virus.  Each phase is referred to as a level of shading."

"So, you're saying that the child would have developed the disorder just by being around his father?"

"
Precisely.  Once a child of a pure, active virus patient begins the process of puberty, the dormant virus is capable of being triggered.  Aggregation pheromones secreted by the father set the process into motion, and the child develops the disorder."

I turned to look at William, who remained as still as before.  For the first time since Bradbury had
begun his history lesson, I thought of the two staff members.  I glanced around the room, but they had left. 

"Let me see if I have this straight.  I have the dormant virus.  And the only way for me to have the active virus is to have been around my biological father at some point since puberty
.  But that's not possible because my father is dead.  So because I won't ever have the active virus, any children I might father would also never have the active virus.  Right?"  I asked Bradbury. 

I attempted to stand
, but my legs gave out from underneath me, and I fell back into the chair.  I grabbed the trash basket and deposited another hefty round of vomit.

"
There is one other way to potentially pass the virus, although there haven’t been any documented incidents at this point in time."  Bradbury began to pace the room again with an air of exhilaration. 

"The general
consensus of the current team is that if a patient with the dormant, pure virus were to transmit enough blood to another individual, then that individual would be at great risk for shading to be triggered if the donor ever developed the activated virus."

My head began to throb
, and the light was beginning to burn my eyes.  I kept my head down.

"I'm sorry, you lost me again.  Can you repeat that in words I will understand?"  I asked.

"Basically, if you had transmitted any of your blood up through now to anyone else, and there was enough of it, then that person would have the dormant pure virus, just as you do.  Now let's pretend your dormant virus is activated, and now you have the disorder.  If the person you had transmitted your blood to came within a certain distance to yourself, you would trigger the virus in that person - just as if you had been their father."

I doubled over at the waist suddenly as pain shot through me.  After a minute to compose myself
, I answered Bradbury. 

"I think I got it.  I appreciate your patience and willingness to explain all of this to me.  But the bottom line is
, none of this actually applies to me.  I can never have the activated virus because my biological father is dead."

Bradbury smiled, rubbing his hands together excitedly.  The twinkle was back in his eye. 

"Yes, Mr. Hawthorne.  Your father is dead.  Oh, but here's something I may have forgotten to mention.  The Shadow Effect is amplified when you are within range of potentially triggering the active virus.  The closer the threat of activation, the more severe the shadows."