The retina caught the slight wobble of light. A minute ago, the world beyond the eyelids was completely black, but the virtual assistant went on setting up a dim diodes glimmer slightly diluting the night, as happens in the early morning, a half an hour before the sunrise. However, this was enough for the brain to understand that it was time to wake up.
Grunting sleepily, Chris rolled over on his bed. After about five minutes, an unobtrusive, quiet piano melody floated across the room. The young man sighed heavily, realizing that he can't get away, no matter how hard he pretended to be asleep. Once the time has come to get up, you just need to pull yourself together and get up. Sitting in bed, Chris stretched, rotated his head, and finally stepped his feet on the floor. Still half-asleep, he crossed the room and disappeared behind the bathroom door. While he was engaged in morning procedures, the modules of the bed parted, folding and sliding one on top of the other, and moved into the niche of the back, and i a couple of moments there was a soft corner sofa in place of the two-sleeping surface; the sonata switched to a more dynamic track; the diode lights went out and the blinds slid open, revealing a panoramic window overlooking the rainforest from a height of thirty meters. A little to the right, if one looks out the window, almost squishing your nose to it, they could see the end of the new research building, which was now unofficially called "perinatal" by the student community.
Leaving the bathroom, Chris returned to the studio, approached a gym corner, briefly wormed up his joints, and jumped up grabbing a bar. After completing two sets of pull-ups, he dropped down and continued his morning exercises with push-ups. He then returned to the bathroom and left it with his hair wet and disheveled, releasing a small cloud of steam behind, which had not yet been sucked into the vent. Walking to the kitchen, he rummaged in the drawer, took out a briquette of granola, poured water, and began eating while the robot cleaner, spinning under a chair, removed wet traces that Chris left on the floor. After loading a dishwasher, he put on a student's uniform, picked up a bag, shoved a tablet inside, and left the studio.
Going down in the elevator with other students, Chris inserted an eardrop and swiped a wristband screen activating the projection. He checked the incoming messages making sure that there's no one waiting for his urgent answer. Then he listened to some local and global news, checked his schedule for today, and requested the data collected overnight on the seedlings. He has been flipping through the endless tables and diagrams until he reached the main entrance, then brushed off the projection and headed for the educational building.
From afar, the scientific and research complex resembled either low-growing mushrooms, sweeping the ground with huge caps that were much bigger than the stems, or soap bubbles of different sizes, blown onto each other in the amount of six pieces, well, almost seven, the seventh building only left that cap-like dome pulled up. Entering under the first "cap", Chris noticed his friends in the crowd of students from their and other groups who had not yet rushed to the laboratory.
"Hi," he shook hands with Josh and a couple of others. "Let's get going?"
"Yeah," Josh answered. "So, have you already started your thesis?"
"Well... not that I started. Been working on the plan the whole evening, but… I think that today I can at least finish it. Have you checked the data?" Chris asked Josh in return.
"Is it just me, or they started progressing?"
"Yes, I think you're right."
"Phew, wow! It's hot, isn't it! And soon it's gonna be as warm as hell!" Catching up with them, Sandro blurted out. "Do you already know your date?" He bent over to look into Chris's eyes while asking.
"Erm... huh?"
"When are you appointed?" His whole appearance expressed an extreme degree of excitement. Tousled hair and a hot blush on his cheeks complemented the picture, while at the same time further confusing Chris. It is unlikely that curly-haired could be so enthusiastic about the study curriculum; it is not so rare that they are given hours for self-training. He could only raise his eyebrows, puzzled, and pursed his lips. "Wait, are you making an idiot of me or are you pretending to be the one? The Implantation, man! When's your surgery!?"
"Oh... that..." Chris relaxed and smiled, at last, he understood his point. "Well, probably not in any foreseeable future."
"What do you mean? Like... At all?!"
"I didn't send an application and stuff yet and not planning to," Chris voiced as if confirming a known fact.
Sandro did not answer, but it was evident from his appearance that he did not quite approve of the choice of a friend.
"A lot of the guys decided to wait," Josh said, looking to the side. "They want to see what will happen to the pioneers."
Chris followed his gaze and spotted one of the wall screens, which at that moment showed a commercial about the seventh building. They obviously muted screens in the corridors to avoid audio chaos during the studying process, but over the past week, everyone could already learn the text of this commercial by heart.
"Fasten your seat belts and get ready, you will have an unforgettable journey into the new building of the Second BIOSPHERE Research Complex! Designed and built according to a special plan, equipped with the most advanced appliance.
The official commissioning date is 854-June-01. It means that there is still a month left until the appointed date, but right now anyone can sign up for an excursion and see with your own eyes under what conditions the Implantation Project will be executed. On the Biosphere's website main page, you will find an application form – fill it in, choose a date, and visit the Complex. In addition, you can find the link and join a virtual interactive 3D presentation that will bring you here without leaving your home. The seventh building of Biosphere II is identical to the other two, built on the Atlantic and Pacific Biospheres. You can visit any of them, and become a part of the project as an assistant or, as a representative of the M-generation and continue the mission that was assigned to you before the birth, if that is what you are willing to do.
Another result of the combined forces of the Earthbound Coalition and the Friendly Colony of Zirkaazte will not be long in coming. A new era is approaching, a new phase for the human race. We all waited for this with bated breath. All our efforts, aspirations, and hopes are now at their peak. This is the climax. All our resources are aimed towards the revival of fertility.
M-generation, we pray for you."
"Have you watched this 3D-thing?" asked Josh, rolling his high chair to their lab desk.
"Not yet. You?"
"Oh yeah, on the release day!" The friend nodded enthusiastically, also showing two thumbs up. "Cool stuff. Neuro-immersion and everything, I think, games and other VR will never make it too real life just so that we don't forget how to distinguish what is real and what is not, even if the graph is top level. Still, it's as if you're watching a movie, but at the same time, you are playing an RPG. They guide you through the halls and labs, telling the story of the experiment and the complex, "'here the surgeries will be conducted, and here is the intensive care room.'" Oh, but the room with these wombs..."
"Uterus modules," Chris corrected.
"Yeah, yeah," Josh nodded wryly. "Anyway, this lady François explains everything there, puts the gloves, a lab-robe on you, and then – bang! A nano-pen and a nano-syringe in your hands and you stare into an eyepiece and see the pseudo-ovum or whatever they are, and your task is to fertilize them..."
Josh fell silent, lost in memories, and it was hard to tell by his face whether he was feeling ashamed or not well, but what he saw and "did" during the 3D simulation had him impressed clearly.
Chris grunted again and turned to his specimen, already knowing that he will unlikely be able to advance with his diploma tonight. Curiosity was his weakness. This really sounded interesting, and with Madame involved, it's especially must be exciting for youngsters his age and a little older, who grew up in a predominantly male environment, rarely or even never in contact with women.
Chris is the child of the last ones who were able to give birth. The generation of his mother, young women of about 785-790 years of birth, were the last to have children. And those who could – gave the world only boys.
"What have you got here, rookies?" a sonorous voice distracted Chris from digging in the past.
"Oh, Shirokawa-san! Long time no see. What brought you to the land of mortals?" Josh greeted the professor happily. "We have almost started suspecting that our group would be reassigned to someone else."
"Anything may happen, but let me guide you a little more," Shirokawa admitted reluctantly and began to scroll the tables of each seed and sprouts sample. "So what do you say?"
"We believe that the overall ratio has increased. A little unexpectedly, but for now, we are observing whether the positive statistics will be preserved," Chris reported calmly.
"Are you referring to yourself in the plural, Newman?" the professor grinned.
"Shirokawa-san, don't underestimate Josh, I already checked him on this conjecture without disclosing mine," Chris smiled even wider in response.
"Hey now!" Josh said indignantly but immediately forgot his anger when the professor patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Work hard boys, I'll be waiting for your evening reports with projections. Oh yes," he started walking away but turned in their direction as if he had forgotten to say something. "Newman, come to my office after dinner."
"Okay..."
"What's the matter? Did you behave badly and forgot to invite me in?" Josh wondered when professor moved along the aisle to other people in their group.
Chris shrugged; he had no idea why the professor suddenly needed to see him in private.
The catering unit was located under the lowest but the widest "mushroom cap." It was a bright round hall and the noisiest. Chris loved this place, although he didn't know why. He did not particularly like the noise, nor did he like to be noisy, but he enjoyed observing such a diverse mass of creatures interacted. His generation, the youngest on Biosphere II, was represented by only a couple of hundred people. In addition, not all m-estrogens were in the same year of studying as Chris, so they were scattered across different groups and faculties. All the rest are seniors that are older for a couple of years or even a couple of decades. However, all of them: applicants, students, graduate students, employees of the center – professors, doctors and scientists, and the zirks, were tied to the complex, to one planetary project. Studied together, worked together, lived, and had fun together. This was noticeable – everyone here behaved like they all were members of one huge family. Despite the high position in the hierarchy of the research center, none of the upper levels showed that they consider themselves better, than any of the lower, or the students for that matter. Though there was a teachers' table for in this room, they occupied it only at some official events. During the usual lunch break or any mealtime, they could be seen sitting at the tables together with their students, busy with food, and a lively discussion of some common subjects.
"Oh, another whole month, and then a week for tests and preparation...," Sandro said. "But I'm not afraid of the surgery at all. There's really a no-brainer, you can't compare the level of nowadays' technologies and thirty to forty years ago. Moreover, everyone knows why it happened then," the blondie impatiently shook his curls.
"Of course we all know, how can we not if that guy turned himself out and confessed that he had messed up," Adrian asserted, "he's got our gratitude for a cloudless childhood and the status of half-orphans."
They all went silent for some moment. It's not as if they tend to succumb to any tantrums at their age, but they still tried to avoid the topic of their own birth.
"I think I'll apply, after all," Josh said quietly when they had already left the table. "Anyway, the surgery line is already long enough so… but it makes no sense to drag with this either. In any case, it's either us or no one."
***
Chris walked into the supervisor's office, touched the Robo-assistant, and scanned his ID projection. The animated counter lit up with a green backlight and notified:
"Please proceed."
"Come on in, Chris, I've been waiting for you, please have a seat."
"Shirokawa-san," Chris nodded to show his respect to the teacher and took a chair he was offered.
"Your seeds feel great and show good results," he began. "So you say I should look closer to Mr. Tumblin?"
"Sir, I cannot tell you what to do. I just really think that Josh is showing good signs of learning ability, working capacity, and diligence. We worked together on a project, and he never let me down or messed up."
"Thank you, I appreciate your opinion and will think it over properly," the old Japanese nodded. "Well, it is still enough time until December. Although I would advise you to start thinking about the thesis as soon as you can, given the circumstances," he winked slyly.
"Sir, the truth to be told, we have already picked ourselves the topics for the thesis and... well, have started working on 'em, sort of," Chris said slowly.
"Is that so? Let me check my assistant's report regarding your thematic. I'm a bit busy to keep us with the flow of incoming documentation, forgive me; the seventh building is a hot spot lately," he laughed, scratching his head.
"I understand, Shirokawa-san, you don't need to explain yourself."
"Hmm, but what about your pre-surgery orientation? When do you start?"
"I... haven't planned it yet," vaguely answered Chris, looking away.
Professor Shirokawa looked up at him, ceasing to pretend he was swapping through his thesis application, then leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"Newman, tell me the truth, speak your heart... how... um... Listen, I'm not trying to be pushy in any way, but I really want to know if you will participate in the project further?"
Chris stared at his fingers for too long, choosing the right words before looking up at the professor, and finally decided to say it the way it is, the way he felt.
"Frankly speaking, sir, I do not plan the implantation for myself, not now. I'm just not ready... I don't want... my... that the child bears this responsibility for me. We are the result of an experiment. A very important one and very serious. And I take my mission earnestly, despite the fact that sometimes it was not very clear, sometimes not very uncomfortable… Yet, there were people who explained everything to me and helped me cope with it back then, and now I'm not that small boy anymore and can perfectly cope with everything that I am exposed to along with the other guys from the "M-group", but... I'm not sure that I want the same for the next generation. For my child, in particular."
Having spoken out, he took a slow breath and looked openly at the professor. The old man smiled and rested his elbows on the table again.
"You know, Chris. Everything that you said once again proves that, regardless of who will produce offspring in your couple, you will be a wonderful father," he smiled again, more widely, and then burst out laughing, seeing the dumbfounded expression on the guy's face.
"I don't have a couple, which, by the way, is also one of the reasons, you see...," Chris started but fell silent.
"I see, Chris. You don't have a partner and you are not looking for one, is this that you want to say?" Professor tried to guess and getting a short nod in response continued. "I know. After all, I observe all of you, all your indicators. As you said yourself, but..."
Shirokawa suddenly stopped, and Chris heard a quiet sound, most likely a vibration. Professor swiped his bans and a projection rectangle rose above it, depicting a window of an incoming call and the caller – zirka who was wearing the Institute's scientific coordinators uniform.
"Where are you?" as always, clearly and curtly; Chris recognized the speaker's voice.
"My office, wanna come?"
"Yes."
The projection collapsed; the professor lifted his gaze to the student.
"Stay," he only said to Chris, and smiled widely this time looking over his head; the door parted with a soft hiss and closed in again.
"Kazuaki, hi... oh, I did not realize that you were busy," Erzketau cleared his throat and sank into the second guest chair. "Newman-kri," the zirka bowed his head slightly.
"Erzketau-kri."
"You sure I won't interfere?" the greenish guest asked after a couple of moments of silence and mutual glances.
"No, you are right on time," the professor assured enthusiastically. "Perhaps you can even help."
Erzketau turned his head to look at Chris, as though he figured out that he was the matter professor needed help with, and then he swings in his chair and stared at the young man, making him immediately feel slightly uneasy.
"Chris," Shirokawa spoke up, clearly intending to continue their conversation. "I want to repeat once again that this is only up to you to decide and it's your choice, which every earthling respects. You should not even bother or worrying that you are slacking off your mission or whatever you call it. In the end, this is your life, you are young, and you have a whole world to discover. Nevertheless, since you admitted that you're not that small boy anymore and can handle everything, then I just have to provide you with some information to think through."
While the professor was talking, Chris tried to look at him and listen very carefully, but he shot still a couple of glances at the resident of the neighboring chair, who was sitting still without moving, and, unlike himself, was not looking at Shirokawa at all.
"It just so happened that among your entire group, or so that you correctly understood, among all the children of the m-estrogen generation, you have the maximum set of the indicators for highest compatibility with the uterus module."
Chris looked at the professor without blinking for several seconds; comprehending and not comprehending what he was saying. Then he turned his head to the zirka as if expecting him to make some comments that would give a different understanding of the words said, and that Erzketau's explanation would be not as heavy, titanium-like that crushed onto the top of his head pushing him down, trying to raze to the ground. Zirka actually did give a comment, although not making it easier for Chris:
"The maximum compatibility index, rejection resistance; presumably neurohumoral, psychosomatic and about a hundred and eighty-seven indicators of... compatibility. And stress resis..."
"Listen to me," Shirokawa urged and Chris withdrew his gaze from the scientific coordinator and forced himself to calm the rushing thoughts in his head, pondering what he heard and trying to analyze, without focusing on the general sense. "Try... just try to see it this point of view. I understand that you may have other plans, but the surgery itself does not yet oblige you to anything. The recovery period will take no more than three months, during which you can have a normal student life, just less physically active. Yet, even if you call us all crazy fanatics, although knowing your approach to science, you can, on the contrary, understand us if you try. You know exactly how crucial is the presence or absence of an additional statistical unit can be, even if it is the most average factor. And what if not average?"
"A new factor can completely change the whole data structure and...," Chris spoke quietly, trying to ignore the growing buzz in his ears and an increasingly rapid heartbeat, "and the result of the experiment."
"Right. Chris, look at me," Shirokawa said just as quietly.
"And what about the others? What about their performance? Have you identified the risk group?" as if having revived, the guy raised his head, only at the last moment managing control his voice for it not to transform into a panic shout.
"The risk group is only 4% of the subjects. All students here, involved in the research complex activities have very good indicators," zirka murmured. "We checked that exhaustively and more than once to be dead sure."
"Chris, implantation is not a synonym for pregnancy," professor Shirokawa tried to joke. "In the end, it will take time – years perhaps for additional studies of after-surgery functioning, and the very possibility of... All of this. Frankly, you may not even notice that something has changed afterward, except for the weight. The module will add as much as three hundred grams you know!"
It was so tiring to hold his back straight, he needed to throw off this titanium plate from his shoulders right now, for this reason, Chris slipped down the chair with a groan, neglecting the etiquette, along with subordination, and dug his fingers into the hair.
"In the name of science?" He asked as if addressing to himself, but sounded more like confirming the main professor's idea – he should contribute to the general mission a little more, although no one is going to neither force him no despise if he says "no", but... a new statistic element can really be significant. He knew this; he loved and appreciated the new factors and figures in the equation that he dealt with in his work with seedlings.
"In the name of science," Shirokawa agreed with this point of view.
Zirka did not say anything but finally stopped drilling Chris with an unreadable look.
"Well, Shirokawa-san, I really appreciate you trusting me with this sort of information. I have to think about all this properly."
Professor nodded. Vibration broke the silence that fell over the office, this time it was Chris's hand-band, notifying him of the next class, which will start in a few minutes.
"Oh, I've occupied all your self-study time," the old man said apologetically, rising from his table. "What's your next class?"
"Um," Chris glanced at zirka who also was already standing by the chair. "Transplantology."
"Oh, it's wonderful! Erzketau-kri, I'm entrusting this student at your disposal."
The three left the office together, but professor Shirokawa turned to the right and quickly left. Chris turned to the left with a sigh, crossing his gaze with zirka.
"Newman-kri, you are not planning to ditch my class, are you?" either suspiciously, or mockingly asked the greenie.
"No way in hell... Mr. Scientific Coordinator."