Flood Rising (Jenna Flood #1)

Mercy gasped in surprise at this news, but Soter just sagged, defeated. “I knew. I was alerted to the government’s intention to hunt down and kill my children. I warned those that I could, but the only way to protect you was direct intervention. I am sorry that your…that Mr. Flood was caught in the crossfire, so to speak. I bore him no ill will.”


Soter was either telling the truth or learning how to control his response better. Jenna chose to believe the former. Nevertheless, there were a lot of gaps in his story. If the destruction of the lab had driven him and the others underground, then how was it that he had a veritable army at his disposal—manpower, firepower, helicopters and executive jets? Someone was funding him, and she saw no evidence that it was not a foreign government as Cort had claimed.

“So what happens next?” Jenna asked. “Where are we going?”

“Back where it all began, my dear. There is still much that you need to be told. And I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“I would prefer to explain it when we reach our destination.”

Jenna shook her head. “If you want my help, start talking now.”

The old man sighed again, this time in surrender. “Thirty-seven years ago, an extraterrestrial intelligence reached out to us. They sent us a message, and even though I succeeded in unlocking that message, I still do not understand what it means.

“They sent us instructions, in the form of a complete DNA sequence. A human genome, but with some very slight differences. You are more intelligent, faster and stronger than an ordinary human. You may also have other abilities of which you may not be aware, or which might not yet have become manifest. But these traits are the means, not the end itself.”

Jenna thought she understood what he was driving at. “You think the ETs told you how to make us smarter so that we would be able to figure out how to talk to them?”

“Perhaps. But there is another possibility. Are you familiar with genetic memory?”

Jenna knew the term from her psychology classes, but sensing that Soter meant it as a rhetorical question, she shook her head.

“For years, biologists have believed that humans acquire nearly all of our memories from interacting with the environment, but recent research is showing that some elements of memory—acquired phobias, for example—may be genetically transmitted from one generation to the next. This has been posited by many as an explanation for past-life regressions.

“Memories, you see, are nothing but sequences of proteins stored in our brain, and accessed by pathways of neurons. There’s no reason that the formation of memories cannot be coded in the DNA, especially when you consider that 98% of the human genome is non-coded, sometimes erroneously called ‘junk’ DNA.

“We don’t know what purpose non-coded DNA serves, but the intelligence responsible for sending us the message most certainly does. And I believe that every single nucleotide is important.”

Jenna nodded slowly. “You think the message is coded into my DNA.”

“Jenna,” Soter spoke in a solemn, almost reverent voice. “You are the message.”





45



Arecibo Observatory, Puerto Rico, USA

9:55 a.m.



The light rain that greeted Jenna as she stepped onto the tarmac intensified to a downpour, as the car in which she rode, along with Mercy, Dr. Soter and the two faux feds, made the half-hour trip into the rugged interior of the island territory of Puerto Rico. She had learned that Cray’s partner was named Markley, but she had learned little more about herself. The terrain was like nothing she had ever imagined. They were surrounded by undulating domes and valleys, lushly carpeted with verdant foliage, looking somehow greener beneath the gray sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Jenna turned and saw Mercy watching her. She nodded. “I’m used to flat islands and open water. Until last night, I’d never even left the Keys. I had no idea…”

She stopped, realizing the absurdity of the statement. This wasn’t a field trip. It was a homecoming. She had been born—if that was the word for it—and lived the first few months of her life somewhere on this very island. “Where was the lab?”

Soter fielded the question with a grave expression. “On the south coast, near Ponce. We stayed here to be close to the observatory. At the time, we had no idea where our research would take us, but we felt certain we would be…communicating…with someone. Even though our project shifted to a new discipline—genetic research—we stayed, because we knew that eventually, we would need to use the radio telescope.” He reached out a laid a hand on Jenna’s forearm. “And that day has finally come.”