The Seven (6 page)

Cormair sat and watched with self-satisfaction. He knew the children had been lying to him and now here was his proof. Doctor Sebbins monitored the girl's vitals on a machine next to him. She hadn't spoken since the girl had been brought down.

Posey's hair hung in damp tendrils around her face and shoulders. From her back, the appendages were growing at a visible rate. The bones had at first looked like simple finger bones, but now they had elongated and thickened. A pair of gangling, slender bones jutted out from her shoulders and muscle tissue was ebbing from her body in long, corded strips to surround the bones, slowly crawling around them like caterpillars. The bony spines from the back of her arms had lengthened and thickened as well, curving in thin arcs toward her latissimus muscles. The spines pierced into her flesh, connecting with the muscle, but becoming wrapped thickly with muscles of their own. At the point where the bones originally broke through her back, her own skin was growing to cover the bones and the muscle without so much as a scar.

"Brilliant, is it not?" said Cormair. He felt a need to break the tension in the room. He had respect for Dr. Sebbins as a scientist, but felt that her emotional attachment to the experiments had been too strong. Dr. Sebbins saw them more as people and not as projects and that was her biggest weakness.

Sebbins looked up from her machine's monitor. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"I said it is brilliant. We scanned through hundreds of thousands of individual DNA profiles to find this girl who had the proper body mechanics for the experiment and was at the proper pre-pubescent age to begin implanting secondary DNA splices. This particular girl's DNA was complementary to bird DNA, thus she became an experiment to create something avian. Those appendages will develop into actual wings if my research was correct. Feathers and all!"

"I know, Doctor. I've read the files."

"But, are you not amazed? We are on the cutting edge of the future here, Dr. Sebbins. We are creating a new type of human being, an entirely new species."

"People have been destroyed for playing God, Doctor."

"Dr. Sebbins, you will not scare me with your fairy tales."

"I'm just saying, Doctor: Look at literature, history. People have been punished for reaching above themselves. Does the name 'Icarus' mean anything to you?"

"I am not worried. I have too much to lose to be worried."

"I'm worried about the wing structure," said Sebbins. "It doesn't look as if she will be able to utilize those wings for propulsion. The muscle structure looks too weak."

"She will be able to propel with the wings," Cormair's voice was firm and sure. "She is not going to take off like a game bird or a finch, but she will fly. I imagine she will be much more like a condor or an albatross. Perhaps her human legs will give her an advantage for lift-off that condors do not possess. The wings will allow her to utilize thermals to glide for hours, maybe days if she can stay awake. They will also allow her to glide from high places, escape routes and the like. Surveillance. That will be her forte. Her eyes were genetically enhanced to be as powerful as a falcon's eyes, you know."

"I know," said Sebbins, rolling her eyes. "I said I read her file."

"The only thing I'm worried about is her vocal chords. I wonder if they will be able to stand up to the enhancements I tried to implant. That was my idea, you know---turning her voice box into a weapon."

"'Shrike Scream' it's called in your files."

"A voice box that's been mechanically enhanced and amplified to the point of being able to cause physical damage with a scream. Wonderful!" Cormair never smiled. His face only gave hints to his emotions, but he was happy. Ecstatic, even.

A pneumatic door slid open at the back of the lab. Cormair and Sebbins both stood up. A slightly overweight man in a dress military uniform walked through the door. He was bald with a thick mustache. A dark gray service cap was tucked under his arm and he walked with a brisk, smart step.

Cormair swallowed hard. He rubbed his palms on his lab coat and nervously straightened the lapels. He extended one hand genially. "General Tucker! I was not expecting you for some time, yet."

"I received a message that you finally had a major development," Tucker said. He ignored Cormair's outstretched hand and kept his eyes on the tank. "What has happened? That looks like Subject Six in that tank."

"Posey," said Sebbins. Cormair hushed her with a stern look.

"Yes, General. That is Subject Six. We have had an extremely exciting development. The project has finally borne fruit. It has begun to sprout its wings."

"'
Its
wings?" Sebbins hissed.

"Why is it in that tank?"

"Why is
she
in that tank," said Sebbins. This time, General Tucker turned and looked at her. He narrowed his eyes.

"Why is
it
in that tank?" he reiterated.

Cormair felt his chest tightening. "The subject is undergoing an accelerated mass transformation process. In the past few months, we have been administering a cocktail of gene development serums and pituitary stimulants to Subject Six. The subject has also been given bone growth enhancers in order to stimulate the scapulae growth that we hoped to achieve. Combined with the avian DNA splices and injections administered over the past ten years, it appears that Subject Six is precisely on schedule. The subject remains in the tank in order to facilitate fast, pain-free bone-and-muscle growth as well as to allow us constant monitoring to all chemical changes in the body. I expect the subject to be operational within fifty hours."

"Excellent," said General Tucker. He approached the glass of the tank and examined the wing stubs on Posey's back. "Excellent," he said again. "And it will be able to fly?"

"She--" Sebbins began, but Cormair cut her off quickly.

"If everything works as I have planned it: Yes, the subject will fly. At the very least, the subject will be able to glide for extensive amounts of time."

"And the eyes?"

"I believe the eyes may already work. I have not confirmed this, but I have my suspicions."

"Such as?"

Cormair cleared his throat. "This subject used to wear glasses, General. However, the subject has not worn glasses or contacts in almost a year, except when she knew she was going to be brought to the lab. I believe the subject's vision to be quite incredible."

General Tucker nodded. "Excellent," he said again. "Doctor Cormair, I believe this development may save you from...unpleasantness. I don't have to tell you that the investors in this project have become extremely...impatient...waiting for you to finally produce some results."

"Thank you, General."

"However," the general continued, "once I bring them this result, they are going to be extremely
hungry
for more. Do we have an understanding between us?"

"Of course, General," said Cormair.

"If this bath is going to speed up their...changes...why aren't they all in the baths?"

"It's not like that, General," said Sebbins. "If they are subjected to the serum without confirmed change to their structures, the steroids and enzymes in the serum will tear the flesh from their bones and destroy their muscles. They have to go into their changes on their own, and I don't believe any of them will be undergoing as dramatic a physical shift as Posey. Perhaps Andy, but none of the others will require the serum to survive their shifts. At the most, they will experience some discomfort, some soreness."

"Why haven't you figured out something different then? Why haven't you been figuring out some way to speed the rest of them through it, then?"

"Are you some sort of sadist who--" Sebbins began. Cormair grabbed her by her shoulders and spun her away from the general.

"General," said Cormair, "you have children, don't you?"

Tucker's eyes darted from Cormair to Sebbins and back. "Why?"

"If you have children you understand how difficult they can be to deal with, am I correct?"

Tucker hesitated. "Affirmative."

"That is because their brains are basically like a chilling pudding. There are some bits that are solid and some bits that are still trying to become solid. Their brains are trying to determine who they are, what they are, and what they can do and cannot do. I have made this whole proposition even more difficult for these seven subjects because I transplanted DNA, tampered with their muscles and skeletons, spliced their genes, stripped out their immune systems and implanted systems that I customized to each of them, and I added bits and pieces to their brains! If I tried to expedite that before I knew where their heads were going to be, I would essentially be sentencing them to death. Their brains would attempt to solidify at such a rate that the necessary components that control their new skills and their bodies would be forced into places that they don't belong. They would become brain-damaged. They would lock down into a vegetative state and all the billions of dollars that has been invested in this project would be wasted. That is also why I have tried to make them live as normal a teenage life as I could in these surroundings. I encouraged them to find hobbies, watch movies, watch TV, and think for themselves, despite your desires. I was attempting not to ruin this entire project by having the research subjects become unresponsive, dead tissue." Cormair finished his speech with a dominance posture, crossing his arms and staring hard at the general. He hoped the general would blink first.

General Tucker's mustache twitched. "Very well. I will give you an extension. However, I want to have facts on Subject Six's abilities---documented with digital video as soon as it is removed from this tank. Your investors will be expecting it as well."

He nodded at Cormair and Sebbins and turned on his heel, military fashion, and strode to the door. He turned back. "Now that this project of yours is bearing fruit, Dr. Cormair, I will be increasing security on this base. We do have...enemies...that might wish to intervene on this project. They may know of its location. You can expect to see an increase immediately. I would prepare the experiments for this, of course. A swift-attack vehicle parked on the lawn may disturb them." He nodded again and walked out of the room. The pneumatic door hissed shut behind him.

Cormair blew out a long, slow breath. His knees felt weak and shaky. His heart was beating rapidly, painfully. He collapsed feebly into his chair, hands falling limply to the sides. Tucker was the sort of bully that Cormair feared since he was a boy. Science was his work, his life. It was his only desire. Putting up with people like Tucker was the price he had to pay in order to indulge his desires.

"Water, please," he said. Sebbins reached into a small cube refrigerator under the desk and handed him a bottle.

"You kowtowed to him," she said. "All this time, I've only see the legendary ice-cold Doctor Cormair, the fabled emotionless stone gargoyle---heartless, soulless, relentless in his work, driven and single-minded. But, I see you have a weak spot."

"I will thank you not to mention it again, please," said Cormair. He drained the bottle of water in a single breath. "General Tucker is the liaison of the group that has funded this project for the past decade. He pays your checks, my checks, and enables us to be able to do this great work of ours. He has been the only person to check on our work here. He has had the only say on whether or not this project continues since its inception."

Cormair stood up and walked to the tank, staring at the young woman suspended in the brilliant orange serum. "This project...is the culmination of my life's work, Doctor. I have been doing recombinant gene therapies and working on creating the next order of life since I was an undergraduate student! This is all I have ever done. It's all I ever wanted to do. If I must kowtow to General Tucker to do it, I will. I am nearly seventy now. That is five decades of work. It is a lifetime of labor in which I have advanced the collective knowledge of humanity more than any scientist before me. I realize, of course, that I will die before the true value of what I have done is know, but the important thing is that I have done it. My name will be legend amongst the learned the world over. The work I'm doing here will eventually lead to cures for cancer, AIDS, Alzheimer's, and who knows how many other diseases and syndromes. I have created something great. I cannot have it taken away from me now; you must understand me!"

Cormair turned and grabbed Dr. Sebbins by the shoulders. "Do you understand? This project is my entire life! It
must
succeed. I will not allow it to fail." His heart pounded and a vein throbbed in his head. He could feel himself sweating. Now that he was so close, he needed to finish this project. He was on to something on a fundamental level that could change the future of humanity. His whole life as a research scientist---his whole life in general---was wrapped in this project. Without the research, without seeing the success of the research, his whole existence was for naught. It could not happen that way!

"This project will go through no matter what!" Cormair stormed to the door of the laboratory. "Keep an eye on her. Alert me the second anything changes!"

"What about the rest of the kids? The military protection? They're bright kids, Doctor. They're going to figure things out."

"I will tell them tomorrow morning, first thing."

Cormair walked to his room. He kept a basic living quarters in the laboratory level. It was decorated in a modern, sparse style. The furniture was black, white, or gray. The walls were white and decorated only with a few famous pieces of art works, mostly old masters. They were prints, of course. Posters, really. Cormair would never waste resources on real art.

There was a small, utilitarian kitchen in his living quarters. Cormair only used it to heat water to brew tea. He set the kettle on a burner and prepared a tea infuser ball of a leafy, strong peppermint tea. It would calm his stomach. It would calm his beating heart.