Kingdom of Monsters by John Schneider (microsoft ebook reader .TXT) 📗

in front of the computer, and started pulling up files, his trembling fingers typing fast and sure.

“One thing I discovered,” Hinkle said, “was that the slightest genetic flaw could create wild disruptions at the most basic chemical level of an altered organism.  So one of the first things I developed was a purification process.”

“Purification process?” Betty asked, learning over Hinkle's shoulder, observing the simulation on-screen.

“A method,” Hinkle said, “of chemically eradicating imperfections in an organism’s genetic structure.  All animals on this island are the healthiest, strongest, most intelligent examples of their species that their genes could muster.

“And,” he said, “that includes my darling daughter, Shanna.”

Kate blinked.  “You experimented on your own daughter?”

“Wait a minute,” Cameron said, lowering his camera.  “That girl, Shanna... she's a clone?”

Hinkle laughed.

“No, of course not,” he said.  “She was conceived and born in the normal way.  All I did was administer a sort of super prenatal-vitamin.  She was, in fact, the very first.  And it was from her very DNA that I was able to move forward with all the rest of it.”

Kate was shaking her head in disbelief.  “You recklessly administered an experimental agent to an unborn?”

“Hardly recklessly,” Hinkle replied, a bit miffed.  “I knew it would work.”

“Didn't you wonder,” he asked, “how an old toad like me could have produced such a beautiful daughter?  The prenatal agent weeded-out abnormalities at the chromosome-level.  No defects, no deformities, every single cell healthy and full.”

“Aesthetics,” Hinkle explained, “are about balance.  That's why athletes tend to be attractive people.  The even-limbs that allow for physical talent also produce aesthetic balance.  It is simply key to the binary-design, and translates to otherwise subjective aspects like facial features.”

Cameron was shaking his head, watching the security cameras as they followed Shanna on her rounds.  “She's an experiment?”

“Not an 'experiment',” Hinkle objected.  “My wife and I used many advanced prenatal methods unavailable to the general public, all during her pregnancy.  Always to the benefit.”

Kate nodded.  “I'm sure.  And where exactly is your wife?”

Hinkle frowned.  “Died,” he said.  “Many years ago.  When Shanna was young.”

“But she approved?”

“Much of it was her own work.  She was my research partner,” Hinkle said.  “The original agent was originally intended as no more than prenatal health.  It was only later, through happenstance, that my wife discovered the resulting potential in Shanna herself.”

“What potential?”

“We found that the prenatal agent had a negative effect on recreated organisms.  One of the difficulties in cloning is that all the genetic traits of the parent get passed on, including aspects like the organism's current stage-of-development.  Genes that mix-up commands to age with those of adolescence are simply not viable.  The organism ages quickly, and dies young, among a whole host of other problems.  Unfortunately, when we attempted to solve this by administering the prenatal purification agent to our engineered subjects, the results were catastrophic, to say the least, massively accelerating the genetic defects.”

“But,” Hinkle said, “when the agent was extracted from Shanna's blood, out of a viable living organism, as opposed to a synthetic test-tube, suddenly it allowed us to adapt the purification process to clones as well.  Once that viability was passed on, everything changed, and our research moved forward at light-speed.”

Hinkle tapped up a new screen.

“And here,” he said, “is where we are now.”

The screen opened up into a virtual-reality simulation.

“This,” Hinkle said, “is the Food of the Gods.”

The group of them watched as the computer model spun like a Rubik’s cube through the process of cell reproduction, from the initial chemical commands from the DNA-level to the outer effect on the organism itself.  The virtual example on-screen was a simple houseplant.  Once the reaction was activated, the plant began to grow.

In time-lapse, stop-motion, the stalks tentacled out, the roots broke the virtual pot, and the leaves fanned out like a parachute catching wind.

Betty was leaning forward, entranced, all thoughts of possible arrest and criminal charges momentarily forgotten.

“This is a simulation,” Betty said.  “You can do anything with CGI.”

Hinkle smiled again.  “Would you like to see?”

The old man stood up, puttering his way to the back of the lab, motioning them to follow.  He tapped-open another series of sliding glass doors, leading out to an enclosure similar to those outside the main compound.  This one, however, was fenced off, like a private terrarium.

Within were rows of cages, the size used to transport large dogs, except with heavy-duty construction more apropos for a pet tiger.

“I keep them back here,” Hinkle said.  “They tend to make a lot of noise.”

Inside the first cage, lying on its side, its ribs rising and falling in apparent sleep, was a cute white bunny, with big ears and a wiggling pink nose.

It was better than four feet long and probably close to two-hundred pounds.

Other cages held mice, squirrels, chickens – all greatly enlarged.  They all seemed to be sleeping.

Betty peered into the cage.  The rabbit's lids fluttered open, and the irises reflected back fluorescent green, like phosphorus.

“Its eyes are glowing,” Betty exclaimed.

“Yes,” Hinkle said, musingly.  “The chemical isn't perfected yet.  That's one of the more minor side-effects.”

“What are some of the less minor ones?” Kate asked, peering in over Betty's shoulder.

“Well,” Hinkle said, “you'll notice all the animals seem lethargic.  They're dying.  At the late-stages, in fact.  The animals all just die.

“There is also,” he said, “the abiding fact that the chemical only seems to work on genetically-engineered organisms.  All these animals are clones.”

“What does it do to normal organisms?” Betty asked.

Hinkle shook his head.  “It's fairly gruesome, I'm afraid.”

“Any other problems?” Betty asked, peering in the cage.

“Well,” Hinkle said, “the biggest flaw seems to be that the effect is passed on.  If we grow a stock of corn, for example, ingestion passes the chemical on to whoever might try to consume it.  Which, in effect, defeats the entire purpose.

“There is also,” Hinkle acknowledged, “the matter of the affected animal's temperament.”

At that moment, the apparently docile rabbit stirred in its cage.

There was a flash of movement, accompanied by a frighteningly deep-throated squeal, and suddenly there were