“You see, Professor Teitur, the marine biologist who created Fireseed, used very special ingredients in his hybrid. We all know he needed a plant that withstood extreme heat and harsh conditions. But it might surprise you that he also wanted to create a smart plant. And one that had strong emotions.” The audience has an immediate and loud response to this news.
So that’s why the Fireseed bent down and stroked my back that first night at The Greening. That’s why it hums when it’s happy and screams when it’s scared. And why the Fireseed might destroy itself if it gets upset enough.
When we settle down, Blane continues. “To that effect, Professor Teitur blended his own human DNA with plant RNA.” More shocked gasps. I look around. People are exchanging heated remarks with their seatmates. “This human-plant hybrid mutated into a new species entirely. One that feels emotions, thinks, even talks in its own way.” More loud exclamations from the audience. “And because Teitur created Fireseed to have amazing powers of reproduction, it now produces transgenic chimera. What does this mean exactly?” Blane pauses for maximum effect. “It means that Fireseed can breed with humans to create varieties of human-plant beings. My holo software not only maps the gene sequences but through its unique algorithm it predicts at least twenty more varieties of chimera.” With this, Blane taps a glowing button and twenty kinky images fill the screen, from the kind of hybrid I am, with greenish blood, to a variety where the being’s skin is actually vibrant green, with leafed out hair.
The audience bursts into spirited chaos. Dr. Varik told us that we’d mutated, but no one knew that his father had already created a mutated being on purpose so many years ago!
I’m proud of Blane. With this, he’s a sure winner. I’d like that prize money, but wow, he deserves it too.
Utilizing his floating graphs, Blane describes the genetic codes, which I can’t begin to comprehend. I’m no geneticist, but I do know that Thorn, Dr. Varik and I are all living proof of Blane’s theory. The Reds too. How did Blane determine all of this just from the Fireseed leaves? Clearly he compiled major data from Teitur’s experiments as well.
I underestimated Blane, that’s for sure. He’s not the person I thought he was; he’s a lot smarter, a lot more soulful. Maybe now I can tell him the truth about who I am, what I am. Will he be fascinated or repelled?
I’m so deep in thought that I hardly hear the audience clap and the next student come up to talk about his project. In fact, a string of students from Spokane Way and Vegas Central come up, present, and sit back down, and it barely registers. Until a guy in a stiff navy suit from Baronland South steps up to the podium. They call him Alex Dean. He has a high forehead and a humorless, waxy expression.
“The Fireseed is a perfect military tool,” he starts. “It’s strong, easily reproducible, of amazing genetic material, as we’ve heard Mr. Tralfant of The Greening explain.”
“Let me demonstrate.” From a large cargo bag Alex Dean extracts what looks like a thick white target. He sets that up on the back wall. Then he takes out a hollowed Fireseed stalk, injects something in one end and aims it at the target. A shuddering blast startles the audience, and the target starts to break down like hardened sugar in water. Gradually, the target dissolves into thin air. The audience bursts out in reaction.
“Forget about drones that damage huge swaths,” he says, “just pick your target and dissolve only that target. This can be done from a long way away, as the Fireseed-based material has intelligent tracking ability. Imagine what power you’d have against an enemy. Your enemy.” With this, Alex Dean stares out into the crowd, a dare etched in his blocky chin and steely eyes.
I break out in cold gooseflesh. This guy scares me. What enemy do we have, and do we really want to vaporize anyone who gets in our way?
The audience erupts into a furious discussion. Bea leans over to me. “Since when were we supposed to design military weaponry?”
“I know. Disturbing.” I think of my own salve that can incapacitate someone. But that’s not for war, that’s for medicinal purposes, or calming a rowdy criminal … and it’s temporary.
I look over at the judges, half expecting them to disqualify this guy. They’re deep in whispered discussion. But they only thank him and call me up next!