Project Renovatio (5 page)

She laughed. “We should explore that. But really, it’s not as crazy as you think. Like the old article he gave you–back then, genetically engineered food as we know it was a new idea. Nowadays, people eat genetically modified food all the time. This food probably has genetically modified ingredients. It’s not a far reach to suggest someone would do that to human genetics. The rationale even makes sense. Climate change negatively impacts our environment, and foreign enemies seem to always rattle their sabers at us. Maybe we’ll need a group of hardy humans.”

He considered her point as he used his fork to slide food around his plate. “I don’t know.”

The email alert pinged on Levin’s laptop.

“Do you mind if I check that? I have to go back to work tomorrow. I might need to prepare something.”

She shook her head, and he carried his plate to his desk. An email from a new contact had appeared.

Levin stared at Scott’s name. “What the hell?”

Maggie joined him at the computer.

“He must have gotten my email address from the company webpage. I thought I was done with him.” He opened the message. It contained a video link with a brief description:

Levin, I hoped you would have called me by now, but since you haven’t, I’ve decided to share more information with you this way.

Levin double checked his anti-virus and anti-spyware programs, and he opened the video. It showed Scott sitting in a chair in front of a black backdrop.

“Wow, he looks just like you,” Maggie said.

“Yeah. What’s with this guy? Is he allergic to talking to people without being all mysterious?”

Levin pressed play, and Scott began speaking. “I apologize for interrupting your evening. I’m aware you’ve spoken to your mother, and you’ve probably figured that we are, in fact, half-brothers.”

How did Scott know he had talked to his mother? Levin clenched his jaw.

“The creators of PR designed it in a series of phases. Every two years, they collected reproductive cells from the Project’s participants, then modified, joined, and placed them into the mothers. Each phase would result in fifty offspring–twenty-five males and twenty-five females. Ten male and fifty female parents participated in each phase. Each male fathered five children. You and I are part of the first phase. Unfortunately, the genetic modifications caused a defect that resulted in the miscarriage of eighty percent of the male embryos in that phase. Only five male children survived–those created from the cells of the Greek father. That makes you and me, along with our other three half-brothers, part of an elite group, so to speak. I’m arranging a meeting for us soon. Please call me in the next couple of days. I hope you have a pleasant evening.” The video screen darkened.

Maggie put her hand on Levin’s shoulder. “This must be why Scott wanted to find you. I wonder why he knows so much about the Project already. He talks like he grew up around it.”

“I don’t know, but I’m tired of him leaving little bread crumbs for me to follow. Why doesn’t he just call me?”

“Maybe he wants to rouse your curiosity first, to give you an invested interest. I think you should call him. Imagine, a few months ago, you didn’t have any brothers, and now you have four. At least! You told me Rana has the same father. You must have more siblings.”

He wished he shared her enthusiasm.

Chapter Seven

“Hello?”

“Scott. It’s Levin.” He sat in his car at the end of his work day, having decided that morning to make the call. He’d planned to ignore Scott’s request for contact, but his curiosity about the other brothers had grown into an incessant distraction in the four days since watching the video. 

“I’m glad you called. I’ve reached the other brothers more quickly than I anticipated. We’re meeting in two weeks, in Denver.”

Levin swallowed.
Two weeks?
“Well, that’s convenient.”

“Yeah, it works well for you. Daniel lives in Oklahoma City, but the others live on the coasts.”

“All right. So where are we meeting?”

After Scott gave him the information, Levin ended the call and drove out of the parking lot.

****

Rana looked away from her laptop screen and out her bedroom window when a car pulled into the driveway. Levin left the car and approached the front door, and she walked downstairs to meet him. She hadn’t spoken with him since the day they arrived home from San Diego.

“Hey, bro, I wondered when I’d see you around here again.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “You want to go for a walk? I need to talk to you. Alone.”

“Um, sure.” She went into the house and fetched her sandals.

“I want to come, too,” Dayla whined from the kitchen.

“Not this time.” Rana left the house and walked with her brother. The air, crisp from an earlier rainstorm, gave her goosebumps.

“I, uh . . . I called Scott tonight.”

Rana waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she asked, “And?”

“On the night we came back into town, he emailed me a video.” He told her about the defect in the first phase and about his four half-brothers. “So, when I spoke with him tonight, he said he’s arranged a meeting for all of us in Denver in two weeks.”

“That’s convenient.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You’re going, right?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You have to go. Maybe you’ll get more answers about–you know, about our purpose.”

“Our purpose?”

Rana wrung her hands. “Well, yeah. I mean, we wouldn’t exist if not for the Project. Our parents didn’t even live on the same continent. And not only that, they messed with our genes. They
modified
them. We’re GMOs!”

“I suppose. So?”

“So, no one really knows the long term effects of GMOs on our bodies. And our entire bodies are GMOs. What if we, I don’t know, randomly grow a third arm from the middle of our backs or something?”

He laughed.

She scowled. “I’m serious. You said so yourself–eighty percent of the boys in your phase died. That probably wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t screwed with the DNA.” She couldn’t help but notice the irony of her position against GMOs in her debate: she had basically argued against the existence of herself and her siblings.

“Don’t worry about medical problems. I’m sure they would have discovered anything wrong with us by now–”

“Anyway, that’s not my point. Most people spend their young adult lives trying to figure out what to do with themselves–to find their purpose. But scientists designed us to fill someone else’s purpose. What does that mean for us and our lives? Can we do what we want, or do we have to do what the Project wants? Or what they designed us to do? They could be the same, but what if they’re not? Will they try to force us into doing something they want us to do? And what about Mom? Did she have us just for the money? Will she . . .” she paused to find her words, “turn us in to the Project so they can study us or something?”

Levin put a hand on her arm, stopping her from walking, and looked straight into her eyes. “Mom raised us. I don’t think she’s gonna hand us over to a research organization. And I don’t think the Project people will be that invasive, or we would have learned about them before now. But I’ll go to the meeting. Will that make you feel better?”

She nodded. “I want to go, too.”

“Not happening. Scott’s pursued me this whole time. I need to find out what he wants by myself.”

His response annoyed her, but she didn’t argue.

“And I promise to tell you if I start growing an arm from the middle of my back.” He smirked.

She punched him on the shoulder.

Chapter Eight

Levin pulled into a parking garage near the coffee shop where he and the other half-brothers had agreed to meet. He dreaded the gathering but didn’t complain: he drove half an hour while the rest of the men traveled from all over the country. Scott had told him Denver was the most central place with a major airport, and it made sense to meet close to one of them. Levin got to be the lucky one. It also made it much harder for him to back out.

He arrived a little early, but he figured he’d order a coffee and wait for guys who looked like him to show up. How many heads would they turn in their gathering?

He didn’t have to wait for an answer. Scott sat at a round table in the back corner of the dining area with two other men sporting black, wavy hair. One had tan skin and appeared shorter than the others. The other man had let his hair grow long enough for it to curl at the ends.

Levin approached the table as the three men stood to greet him. He shook hands with the long-haired one.

“Hi. I’m Levin.”

“Daniel. Nice to meet you.”

He shook Scott’s hand, then the hand of the third man, who introduced himself as Jeremy.

As the men reclaimed their seats, Levin took the empty chair next to Daniel.

Levin couldn’t help but compare his features to those of the other men at the table. Aside from the obvious difference in hair length, Daniel was a bit taller and thinner than Levin, and Jeremy looked like he spent quality time at the beach. Otherwise, he guessed strangers could easily identify them as brothers.

“Brent hasn’t arrived yet,” Scott said. “While we’re waiting, how was everyone’s trip into town?”

Jeremy and Daniel discussed their flights, and Levin joked about a cone zone he had to negotiate. As they spoke, Levin sensed movement in his peripheral vision and looked up. Another man strongly resembling those in the group stood by their table, though his slightly heavier build gave his face a rounder appearance, and his short haircut held no discernable wave.

“Hi. I’m Br…Brent Sutherland. S…s…sorry I’m late.” He shook everyone’s hand as they recited their names again. Brent sat next to Jeremy on the opposite side of the table from Levin, creating a gap between them. Scott sat in the middle of the semi-circle of brothers.

“Welcome. You’re not late,” Scott said. “Let’s begin by telling a little bit about ourselves, if that’s not too predictable. I thought you could each give us some information about your background, and then tell us what you thought of Project Renovatio when you first learned about it. Who would like to start?”

Levin scanned the other tables, the counter, his hands . . . anything to avoid having to speak first.

Finally, Daniel’s voice permeated the silence. “I’ll start.” He sat up straighter. “Well, I’m Daniel Jackson. I live in Oklahoma City where I started medical school not too long ago. My sister, Janie, is twelve years old. She’s a PR kid too, but we have different fathers.” He sipped his large coffee. “When Scott told me my origins, and I followed up with my mom, I was excited. Oklahoma City holds the same appeal as dry toast. Honestly…” He grinned. “I thought this information might make it easier to meet girls. I mean, who doesn’t want to hook up with a genetically gifted individual, am I right?”

The men laughed, though Levin doubted anyone else shared Daniel’s sentiment. He came off as creepy.

Scott nodded. “Thank you, Daniel. Who would like to go next?”

“I will,” replied a voice from across the table. “I’m Jeremy Ruiz. I live in Miami. I’m an assistant P.E. teacher at a middle school while I work on earning my own certification.” Jeremy had a slight accent in his voice. “I have a sixteen year old brother named Eliot. When my mother told me about the Project, I was unsettled. I love my life. I have a great family, a wonderful job, and I’m engaged to my beautiful Renee.”

A wide smile took over his face. He pulled his phone from his pocket and touched the screen a few times before turning it towards the group. The picture featured a stunning young lady with long black hair, tan skin, and dark eyes wearing a simple lavender sundress.

“I’m not anxious to change my life, but I am interested to see where this goes.” He sat back and returned his phone to his pocket, indicating he’d finished his part of the sharing time.

Levin shifted in his seat. “I’ll go next,” He cleared his throat. “I’m Levin Davis. I live thirty minutes south of here. I’m a software developer. I have two sisters, Rana and Dayla. They’re both children from the Project.” He considered his next point, wondering how much he should share with the strangers. “My girlfriend’s name is Maggie. She’s in school earning her biology degree.” He smiled against his will. “I don’t have a picture in my phone to show you. She takes all the pictures of us.”

Jeremy laughed.

“When I first heard about PR, I thought it was a bunch of bull meant to scam me somehow. I still don’t understand parts of it, but maybe I’ll get more answers today.”

“Thank you, Levin. I think you will. Brent, would you mind telling us about yourself?” Scott held his smile for the duration of the introductions.

He shook his head. “I’m Br…Br…Brent Sutherland. I’m an a…a…auto mechanic from sss…Seattle.” He stopped talking and scanned the group.

“Brent, feel free to continue as you’re comfortable,” Scott said, as if the two had discussed this possibility prior to the meeting.

“Th…thanks. I’ve al…always stammered…b…b…but it gets worse…w…w…when I’m nervous.” He chuckled anxiously.

Levin leaned towards Brent after an uncomfortable pause. “My buddy at work has a stammer. If he has a hard time, I ask him questions and he answers them. Seems to help.” Levin offered the suggestion cautiously. He could only guess how Brent would receive it.

Brent nodded.

“All right. Do you have any siblings?”

“Y…yes. My b…brother, Isaiah. He’s sixteen.”

“Okay. And what did you think when Scott told you about the Project?”

“I was s…s…scared I would h…have to talk to people.”

The men laughed. Brent grinned and sat back in his seat.

Scott smiled. “Thank you, Brent. Now, I’d like to share more about myself. Jeremy asked me earlier if I grew up around the Project or if I work there. The answer is, both. My mother is married to Steven Craig, the geneticist who took the lead for the San Diego division of Project Renovatio.” He kept his arms on the table and grasped his coffee cup with both hands. “He had her screened as part of the training for his techs and discovered she qualified to participate.”

“Wasn’t that awkward?” Daniel asked.

“I guess not. He gave her the option to take part in the Project the same way he offered it to your mothers. They discussed having children before, and my dad–Dr. Craig–chose to raise me as his own son. They gave me my mother’s maiden name to reduce any suspicion of favoritism on his part.” He sipped his coffee. “I have no siblings. My mother carried a girl child four years after I was born, but the baby didn’t survive because of a medical problem my mom had. They opted not to try again. Unlike the rest of you, I grew up knowing the nature of my existence. In fact, you’ll have to forgive me if I seem unconcerned with how learning about PR has affected you. It has simply been a fact of my life. I work for the organization now, kind of as an outreach guy.”

“Is that what they wrote on your business card?” Levin asked. The men laughed.

Scott finished chuckling. “No. I don’t need business cards. I bring PR children the knowledge of their existence as it becomes appropriate and necessary. Which takes me to my next point.” He turned his attention to Jeremy. “You recently became engaged, to Renee.”

“Yes. So?”

“So, your situation has prompted this meeting for all of you. Before I begin explaining, though, I want to tell you first as an employee of Project Renovatio and then as your brother.”

The conversation had taken a strange turn, and Levin wished he hadn’t mentioned Maggie in the introductions. Scott’s smile gave way to a serious tone.

“When Project Renovatio started, they tried to plan ahead, genetically speaking. They planned to create 150 males and 150 females who would grow up and pass their genetic information to their children. From a sociological standpoint, they didn’t worry about PR kids pairing with those who might . . . diminish the genetic advantages given to them. People tend to choose partners who are like themselves. Smart people choose smart partners; athletes tend to choose other fit individuals, and so on. Now, we five are the only male survivors of the first phase. Because of that, PR can’t risk losing our genetic advantages in the general population.”

“W…what does that m….mean?” Brent asked.

“It means they want us to find partners from among the other PR kids–obviously from the ones with different fathers. If our partners share our traits, we will likely pass them on to our children.”

Jeremy shifted in his seat and leaned forward. “It’s nice they want that, but what gives them the right to suggest it?”

“They don’t have the right, per se. But we exist because of PR, and therefore, they feel they have a claim to us. They want to establish an ever-increasing group of advantaged humans well before it’s needed. The Project took a big blow when they lost most of the males in the first phase. This plan will allow them to recover.”

Levin clenched his fist under the table. “Help
them
recover? You’re talking about our lives. They can’t make us do anything.” He tried to swallow the foul taste at the back of his throat. “We didn’t know they existed two months ago. And why wait until Jeremy gets engaged to tell us this? They must know we won’t go for it.” He spoke more for himself than for Jeremy.

“You’re right. And now I’d like to start explaining as your brother.” He scanned the place, leaned in towards the group, and lowered his voice. “Personally, I think the whole suggestion sucks. Our mothers–well, your mothers–signed a contract saying they would carry and raise you and report your progress back to the Project. That’s it. There’s nothing about monitoring you past the age of eighteen, and there is no mention of whom we should choose as partners. So,” he glanced at the ceiling and sighed, “you should all tell your mothers to stop communicating with Project Renovatio. They still track your younger siblings. As long as PR monitors them, it monitors you. You can’t assume they’ll stop caring about you just because you’re over eighteen.”

“That means our mothers would have to give up the money,” Daniel said.

“Yes, it does. But you, and she, need to ask yourselves if allowing a research organization to monitor and possibly control you is worth the money.”

Levin rubbed his neck. “Why tell us this? If you work for the Project, you risk losing your job.”

“I’m aware of the risk. When PR told me to find you and tell you what they want, it made me sick to my stomach. Jeremy, you obviously love your fiancée very much. Levin, you seem to have strong feelings for your girlfriend as well. I can honestly say I understand how you feel. When the Project brought me this assignment, I had been dating Jocelyn for nearly a year. She was lovely, intelligent…” he pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling again, as if fighting back tears, “and I wanted to marry her. But my dad–Dr. Craig–insisted I break it off with her and seek a partner from the girls in PR. He implied her safety would be at risk if I didn’t. So,” he exhaled slowly, “I did. I told her I didn’t want a serious relationship after all. I believe I protected her.” With a shaking hand, he brought his coffee to his lips.

“What do you mean her safety would be at risk?” Jeremy leaned forward and squinted.

Scott set down his cup. “I don’t know, exactly. Like I said, he implied it. His exact words were, ‘It would be better
for her
if you weren’t with her.’ Because of my position in the Project, I couldn’t do anything about it. But I realized I could help the four of you avoid the same fate. Tell your mothers to break communications with PR, and I highly recommend moving your family at least to a new city, if not a new state. And stay vigilant. They won’t go quietly. They have many people stationed around PR families. If you feel watched, it’s because someone’s watching you.”

“This is crazy.” Jeremy rose from his chair and paced near the table. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. “What if we do notice something, like evidence PR tracks us? Do we just keep moving? Stay one step ahead?”

“That’s what I would do. But if you break off your relationships, they will leave you alone.”

Levin dug his nails into his leg. He couldn’t stomach the possibility of breaking up with Maggie, but she might not want to carry the risk.

What if she didn’t?

Daniel broke the following silence. “Okay, so let’s pretend we all go for this and try to find girls from the PR population. How do we do that? The only ones we know are our sisters.”

“That’s the next part of my job. I’m supposed to organize a gathering where all the PR kids will meet. It won’t happen soon, though. I have to wait until the kids in the final phase–the current ten-year-olds–are old enough to learn about PR. We think that will be when they’re fourteen or so. By then, all kids in the first four phases will be over eighteen. The timing is tricky because those in the last two phases will be too young for anyone, but at least you will all know about each other. For now, I’m supposed to tell you to stop dating just anybody and wait for the gathering.”