Double Helix Ch. 15

Nissi shook her head slightly. "I don't. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to focus here."

She was irritated now and working up to stronger emotion. I hadn't expected her to be ready to talk to Nock yet, but I wanted to plant the seed. "Alright, well, I'll let you know what I find out about the lab equipment."

I decided to go straight to find Norm. Stepping outside, I heard a crash of violent impact. I made my way around to the back of the barn and the smaller double doors that led into the area of the stalls. The sound came from farther in, recognizable now as the thump of metal striking wood. The walls around me shuddered in response to the strike.

I found him in the last stall with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his body. I paused to admire the view. He had been rail-thin when I first met him. When I had seen him naked in Sasha's greenhouse, his ribs had been visible. Now he had filled out, building bulk in his arms and shoulders. His back was rippling, lean muscle as he swung the sledgehammer back and threw his body forward to drive it into the wall. The wood buckled and split, and he used shorter strokes to knock the horizontal boards back from the supports and rip out the nails. He already had a pile of broken wood from the other two walls he had demolished.

"Hey," I said, before he could wind up for another swing.

"Oh, hi," Norm said, and let the hammer come back down. He heaved visibly from exertion.

"So, you're going ahead with it?"

He leaned the sledgehammer against the wall and wiped sweat from his forehead. "I wasn't sure, but it's kind of necessary." He laughed. "I need to have somewhere to put that damned piano."

"Here, let me give it a try," I suggested.

Norm stepped aside. "Be my guest."

I hefted the sledgehammer, testing how it felt in my hands. I figured it at about eight pounds. Mass is one of those things you can't get around, even with more powerful muscle tissue. Using this tool effectively to demolish the wall meant imparting enough energy into it to overcome either the wood's tensile strength or the friction of the nails. I brought the hammer back slowly, estimating the force I wanted.

When I swung it forward, Norm gave a startled cry. I strained to slow the hammer, and it just kissed the wood, barely leaving a dent. "What's wrong?" I said.

Norm let out a breath. "I'm sorry, I thought you were going to hit the post. It's actually a load-bearing support. I didn't want to bring the hayloft down on us."

I saw what his problem was. Going for maximum effect, I had aimed for a spot right next to the support beam, figuring that it would rip the nails out cleanly. "Don't worry," I said with a laugh. "I'm not an architect, but I know that much."

I wound up and swung again. The nails gave way with a loud but satisfying squeal, putting a large dent in the board but leaving it in one piece. I demolished the remainder of the wall, using one strike on either side to loosen each board, and handed the hammer back to Norm.

"Neat, very neat," he said of the pile of mostly intact boards next to where the wall used to be. We moved into the next stall to work on the wall opposite.

"Did you know that Nissi is trying to cure Nonna?" I asked.

Norm had been eyeing the righthand support carefully. "Huh?"

"She wants to set up a genetics lab and even gave me a list of equipment."

"Huh." I could tell he was only halfway listening.

"I thought we could check with Andy and price some of it out."

He shook his head. "A proper lab is going to cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe millions. I don't see how we can manage that. I sympathize with the idea, but it's just not feasible."

I decided to go ahead and put my cards on the table. "What if we could cure the Rot?"

Norm had been winding back for another hit as I spoke. He stumbled, dropping the hammer, and barely avoided crushing his foot. "You...you're serious?"

I continued once he had recovered the hammer. "I've been thinking about this on and off since we got here. The Rot is an oomycete, commonly classified in the genus phytophthora. What is its most distinguishing characteristic?"

Norm swung the hammer before answering. He did a pretty good job of it, striking the board near the post, but only loosening it. A second, softer hit finished the job. "I would say the fact that it is so widely infectious. Most water molds will target one specific species of plant, like potatoes or soybeans. Rot goes after hundreds of species."

"Which is often cited," I added, "as evidence supporting the theory that it is an engineered organism."

He waved his arm, recounting the mantra we had all been fed for years in press conferences and newscasts. I joined in after the first few words. "Hence justifying the ban on all genetic engineering and research while our government regulatory agencies develop the protocols and procedures to ensure safe and ethical practices in genetic science."

"And outlawing the very research that could potentially neutralize the infection," I said. When leaders in the field started talking about using genetic engineering to control or attack the Rot, the McCain administration had presented this to the public as evidence of the very attitudes that needed to change to prevent such catastrophes in the future.

There was more to it, of course. The third world, though largely beyond the control of the Ban and the Oxford Treaty, was too poor and lacked the facilities and expertise to work on a solution. Russia's genetic science, though well-funded, had been stunted and distorted by Lysenkoism. China might already have the cure, for all we knew, but its rice exports brought in trillion of dollars a year from western nations. It was in their interest for the West to continue to be ravaged by the disease, whatever other motivations they might have.

Norm looked at me askance. "So, what? You want to engineer a virus to attack the Rot?"

I considered the question for a moment. "That's not necessarily the route I would take. I have some ideas, but I need a lab to develop and test them."

"And you need someone to build this lab," Norm said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Don't you?"

"I'm sure we would all pitch in, even Daniel. It's your fault for building us that bathroom, you know. Showing us your mad skills."

Norm swung the sledgehammer, and this time the board parted from the post. He hit the board again near the post on the opposite side and it came free, clattering to the ground. "And I'm not even formally trained. So, assuming I go along with this, where do we get the money? We've got about 50k left from the Santiago trust fund, and we'll spend half of that on food before we get the greenhouse producing at full capacity. That might be just enough to pay for the building materials for a modest structure, but you're going to need equipment and special structural materials."

"I'm going to see what Nock can do about that. So, can we price out this equipment?"

Norm reached into a pocket and tossed me his cell phone. "Andy is listed there. Why not call him yourself?"

I found our contact's number in Norm's phone and called him. Andy picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Norm. What can I do for you?"

"Andy, it's Tilly," I said. I've got some unusual items that I would like to run by you."

While we spoke, Andy dialed up one of his contacts to get their opinion. As I had expected, some of the equipment was simply unavailable at any price. I probably shouldn't have started off with the PCR workstation, because I clearly heard Andy's contact give a mock laugh over the other phone, then a click as he hung up. Andy called him right back, assuring him that this was no joke and got him to agree to listen to the rest of the list.

For those items that we could get sourced, which was most of them, the bill was high, but not as bad as Norm had initially thought. With Andy's finders, transaction and delivery fees, it was more than double than I had spent on the greenhouse. We still needed to build our own PCR workstation and gel electrophoresis apparatus, both crucial pieces of equipment, but it was a very good start.

Norm got the rest of the wall knocked down and I suggested he take a break. "You're dehydrated," I said, taking stock of his vital signs. "Didn't I tell you to drink plenty of fluids? Especially after coming off of a hangover."

Back at the house, I got some water into Norm and we set off to find Nock. Wendy told us that he and Stan had gone out to the firing range to practice with a pair of our AR's, so we headed over.

We had set up our firing range on the next farm over to the east, in a depression that fronted a wooded area at its eastern border. It looked to have been a rather large cattle pond at one time, but the water had long since broken free and drained away to the north. The landscape helped to contain the noise somewhat.

We spotted Nock and Stan as we crested the lip of the depression, standing and talking with their rifles slung low and pointed downrange. Nock turned to look at us, nodding in acknowledgement, and Stan gave a wave. "Something wrong?" he called.

"No, we're fine," Norm answered. "Just looking to talk."

We had to go back to the beginning and explain all of it, starting with Nissi's efforts at curing Nonna's disease, and ending with the need for money to fund the purchase of lab equipment.

"Still working on expanding that list of criminal charges I see," Nock said wryly. "To get some interest I'm going to need to sell it. The human angle with Nonna is good, but it's still banned medicine, so we're not going to see this treatment getting out into standard markets. Tell me more about how you plan to cure the Rot."

"Engineered host resistance is where I'll start first," I said. "I'm going to attempt to modify the immune response in food crops affected by the Rot."

Using traditional techniques for breeding disease resistance had so far failed. Rot was simply too versatile in its immune suppression, and plants that were resistant were genetically too dissimilar to allow hybridization. I needed to introduce genes from very different species into the plants I wanted to target.

Nock nodded. "That sounds technical in a very satisfying way. Do me a favor and put that in writing for me, will you? Rot-resistant food crops should definitely get some attention. I'm pretty confident I can raise the money you need, and more, if I can reach enough of the right people. I just hope you're up to the task. Don't be surprised if I call you in for a Q and A to clarify some of the finer details of what you hope to accomplish."

He did have a point. I had learned much about agriculture and plant biology in the last several months, but now I needed to delve more deeply into the genetic science. "I think I can leverage the expertise that Nissi has already built over the darknet," I said. I needed to brief Nissi's group and win their support as well.

When we were finished, Norm and I stayed for a bit to watch Nock and Stan shoot. Targets had been set up on the remains of the dam that had once held the water for the pond. Both of them had steadily improved in accuracy and speed over time. We couldn't practice as often as we would have liked, since ammunition was not cheap, but we had all taken turns learning how to shoot the rifles, the pistols, and the shotgun that we had. I had taken a liking to the Remington myself. It gave an almighty kick, but once I had learned to nestle it in tight against my shoulder, I found it to be quite manageable, and the tight cluster of holes it left across a several inch diameter circle at the target was satisfying, compared to the little tears that the ARs delivered.

That night, I once more lay in bed as Norm drifted off to sleep. It had been five days since our trip to Seattle, five days since his breakup with Nissi. I had grown accustomed to waiting a week between our outings, but it was a bit maddening to have him right here, in physical contact, but lacking any kind of desire for me. I understood the reason all too well. His guilt over Nissi made him feel like having sex with me would be like cheating on her again.

I heard Nissi coming upstairs after another late night of studying. Genetics had become something of an obsession for her recently, but since the breakup, it felt to me like she was using her work to avoid the pain of what we had done to her. That thought was confirmed a few minutes later when she began to cry. I listened to her heart-wrenching sobs as she went from the bathroom to the bed and slipped into the sheets.

This was always the worst part of my day. I felt driven to go to her, to help her through her sadness. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I slipped into a bra and panties and put on a robe. I opened the door to my room, waited for Norm's slow intake of breath that would signal he was still asleep, and carefully shut it as I stepped into the hall. I tapped a knuckle lightly against Nissi's door.

"Go away, Norm," she said. "I'm done with you."

"It's me," I said, in as loud a whisper as I dared.

There was a pause of several seconds, during which I heard her moving about, and a lamp click on. "Alright, come in," she said.

I stepped into the room. Nissi was sitting up, the sheet wrapped around her body. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were swollen and red, but she had made an effort to clean up and hide the fact that she had been crying. "I just want to talk," I said.

Nissi patted the bed next to her. "Sure."

I sat on the bed, folding my legs across each other. "I know you're still hurting," I said.

She tried to brush me off. "I'm fine, really."

"No," I said, touching her arm, "you are not. You are grieving. You are also angry and lonely."

Nissi looked down. Her eyes scrunched up tight and she shook her head slightly. When she spoke, her voice broke. "I just don't understand why he did it. If I could understand that, maybe I could move on, you know? Was I just an idiot, that I didn't see this coming?"

"I don't think Norm saw this coming either."

Nissi looked at me and scoffed. "Oh, come on. It's obvious why he picked you over me. I'm a novelty, an affectation. Take away these," she tugged at an ear, "and I'm just another Standard Upgrade. You offer something special, something unique."

"He didn't choose me," I said gently. "That was part of the problem. He couldn't just pick one of us and leave the other."

"Then he's a greedy idiot. You can't play with people's emotions that way. He shouldn't have led me on." Rather than comforting her, I could tell that our conversation had stirred Nissi up, but she had asked me for understanding, so that's what I tried to give her.

"He loves both of us," I said.

Nissi closed her eyes and sighed. "I can't-I just can't do this right now. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to not knowing. Ignorance is bliss, right?" She settled back into the bed. "I hate that I miss him so much."

I felt the longing in her as a gnawing emptiness. Acting on impulse, I got off the bed and removed my robe. Nissi watched me in obvious confusion as I peeled back the sheet and slid in next to her. "Turn on your side," I told her, "your back to me." It was what Norm had told me to do when I had needed comforting.

She did as I said, and I wriggled up next to her. The warm softness of her body pressed against me, and she let out a deep sigh. "That feels nice," she said. "I'm just not used to sleeping alone anymore."

I stroked my fingers through her long, red-gold hair and she crooned softly in response. "'s nice, too." She reached back to pat my thigh, and began to run her hand slowly back and forth. She was rapidly drifting off to sleep. It seemed that I had provided the one thing she needed most right now to relax, warm human contact.

The only problem was that it was having much the opposite effect on me. My skin tingled beneath the fingers that had gone still on my thigh, as did my nipples within the fabric of my bra where they pressed against her back. It seemed that the longer I lay there, the stronger my body's reaction. I had always liked Nissi, but hadn't really considered her as more than a friend, and right now we could not afford further complications.

Carefully, I extracted myself. Nissi's steady breathing was interrupted by a little moan of disappointment, but she was asleep again in seconds. I stood and crept from the room, my body still smoldering with desire.

Norm lay on his back beneath the blankets of our bed. I stared at him for a moment, decorum warring with my impulses. Seeing the faint swell of his erection under the blanket pushed me over the edge. I stripped out of my underwear and peeled the covers back, careful not to wake him. Placing one knee on either side of his body, I sank down onto him. Firm warmth penetrated me to my core.

Norm grunted and opened his eyes. "What a lovely dream," he said.

"Oh, you have no idea," I assured him. Sitting perfectly still atop him, I contracted the walls of my vagina, squeezing him inside me. I grinned at his intake of breath, enjoying the echo of sensation that flowed through me. "You certainly felt that."

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked. He groaned as I fluttered around him.

"I must have read about it somewhere," I said innocently. I had come across a Tantric manual that put the idea in my head. I decided to try something more complicated.

"Holy shit," Norm said, as the walls of my vagina gripped him and pulled upward at the same time. "I don't know what has gotten into you, but I like it."

"I couldn't wait for you to wake up," I said, and began to rock back and forth, taking him deep inside me with each stroke. He pulled me closer and closed his mouth around one nipple,sending lines of pleasure shooting down my body. "Oh, God," I cried as my pleasure crested. A warm tingling rolled through me, emanating from where our bodies joined. It grew in power and intensity, infusing every nerve until I whimpered in ecstasy. Norm held me as the spasms rocked my body.

Slowly, like a tide rolling back, my orgasm retreated. Norm rolled me onto my back and I lay there, panting to catch my breath. He got on his knees, reversed his position on the bed and dropped his head between my thighs. My sensitized nerve endings registered every tactile detail as he traced the lips of my sex with his tongue. The pleasure spiked when he reached my clitoris and I gave a cry.

His hand caressed the the top of my thigh, dipping into the cleft, fingers curling as they sought entrance. I moaned and writhed as they slid into me. He brushed his fingertips rhythmically over a spot on the roof of my vagina, a sensation distinct from yet complementing of the gentle strokes of his tongue. The combination was overwhelming. I came again in mere moments, more powerfully than the first, a wave that rolled through me, searing pinpricks of intense pleasure sparking seemingly at random through my body. It continued to ebb and flow as he stimulated me, and incredibly, I felt another wave building even as the first continued, stronger, deeper, almost terrifyingly so. Had I been able to speak, I might have pleaded for him to stop.

He moved suddenly, his mouth and tongue never leaving me, but his knee lifted and passed over my face, coming down next to my shoulder. The warm, smooth tip of his penis bumped my face and I went for it without thinking, drawing it into my mouth. I tasted the musky sweetness of my own juices, and it pushed my excitement even further. He began to thrust into my mouth as my wild vocalizations sent pleasure buzzing along his shaft.

I was still coming, held in the throes of orgasm by his continuing stimulation, and this new tension kept building and building. Norm was driving all of the way to the back of my throat with each thrust, sending yet another thread of sensation to join the raw, seething pleasure that consumed me.