The Eden Project: Humanity's Last Chance

by

Click here to read book 2 of The Eden Project:

NIGHT WITHOUT END

©2012 by DP Fitzsimons

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It was the T-minus-one-year party and everyone seemed to be having a grand old time, everyone but ‘Mudstick Molly’, Genevieve Fifthborn. The other Eden kids normally called her Gen but not tonight.

Like her so-called mother, whom she had never met, Gen had long brown hair and liked to read, but she did not like to dance and that’s why the boy they called Tuna tagged her with that most undignified name. She would not dance with him or anyone else.

She was working the punch bowl.

Subject sixty-seven, the still uninfected sixteen-year-old girl who had donated Gen’s DNA, had suggested her name which comes from a tale over a thousand years old, on a planet millions of years old—the same planet humankind would be leaving forever one year from that night.

Gen failed to see that as a reason to celebrate, let alone dance.

She spent the whole night pouring fruit punch into other kids’ cups and watching them mingle, looking for some interesting detail for her journal. She knew each and every one of them, better than most. There were 117 kids inside the dome. Pure blood, uninfected, insulated from the decaying world outside.

Ada, the 121st born, was the youngest and had just celebrated her eighth birthday. Gen had written this down in her journal. All 117 were between eight and fifteen years old. Gen herself would soon be fifteen.

And it was these 117 kids who would be solely responsible for the perpetuation of the human race once the ships launched.

She returned Ada’s smile and filled her cup. She watched the small girl spin away and bounce back to a group of young ones. Gen’s mind wandered to the four who did not make it, who did not graduate their first year. This was why their number is now 117 and not 121.

There had been a crack in a seal in the nursery, causing the slightest possibility for contamination. The four babies would have been just a few months older than Ada now. “The slightest possibility” meant those babies were sent outside of the dome, into the dying world, to wait for the virus to reach out and put its cold hand on them.

Doctor Lotte Becker had told Gen this story recently with tears streaming down her face. The boys called Doctor Becker “Doctor Hottie” because her first name, Lotte, rhymed with ‘hottie’ and because she was still quite beautiful even if in her forties.

Gen had wanted to reach through the seven inches of glass that separated the doctors from the kids and wipe the tears from the sad woman’s beautiful face. She knew that Doctor Becker had worked at The Eden Project’s nursery back then, back when the nursery still operated.

Adam Thirdborn looked across the wide expanse of Dock 4 where the dance was taking place. He sat perched on a lighting support high above them all. He watched Tuna below attempting to spin Cassie only to have Cassie fall into Zeke and Sylvia causing a commotion on the dance floor.

Gen laughed at Tuna who stammered and tried to pull Cassie off Zeke. Gen glanced up to Adam who quickly turned away.

She somehow always knew where to find Adam, his physical location. This infuriated her, that she could not avoid keeping track of him in her mind. Adam was so aloof and took particular pleasure in ignoring her completely.

She had no affection for him and what did it matter? She was to be Zeke’s mate one day when the ships launched. The original eight were paired. Four males with four ideal female mates. Each of the four pairs would become the senior pair on each of the four ships.

Zeke was the perfect mate for her in every scientific measurable. She knew it sounded cold but she liked the orderliness of it and thought such order was a perfect vessel to keep love from breaking things as the old stories had always described, love breaking people, their hearts, their souls.

Gen was all heart and soul and wanted them protected in a perfect match. It did not sound romantic, but they were beyond the untidy ways of the past, in the world outside, where love was all too free.

How could that old love’s untidiness not lead to violence and broken hearts and, eventually, to the final virus? The virus that destroyed cities and then countries and then finally whittled billions down to the 117 tube-born kids raised untouched in this dome.

A handful of doctors cared for them as infants by the use of robotic arms. The doctors had access on the entire eastern half of the structure where the original nurseries were located. The wild sea surrounded the western side of the all-glass dome.

There were narrow corridors cutting throughout so the doctors could walk through without actually being inside the dome. It allowed them to oversee the kids, training them in every endeavor necessary to run an entire ecosystem one day on board the ships.

Zeke approached her now which always made her stand up straighter and clear her throat. He was already nearly six feet tall and his voice had dropped to the point that his manhood was imminent.

“Genevieve,” he said, like some old-time General at a ball.

“Good evening, Ezekiel.” How could she not reciprocate his formal greeting? “You look dashing tonight in your formal blue.”

Although his manhood was imminent, her compliment flustered him. He fought off blushing, nodded to her, took his drink and quickly returned to the others.

“Such a boy,” Gen said to herself, disappointed but smiling.

“Did you think our dress blues made us men?”

Gen was startled by the voice. Adam’s. Had he jumped down from those lights?

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” she finally answered.

She poured him a glass of punch, disgusted by his crooked grin.

“You don’t, huh?” Adam took his punch. Gen flashed red. Adam Thirdborn’s sarcasm was the worst thing she ever had to bear. It made her feel something like claustrophobia in his presence.

He was at first pleased, then hurt by her angry eyes. “Gen and Zeke,” he said, turning to go, “a match made in heaven.”

When he walked away, she felt so much sudden hostility towards him, such an untidy emotion. She could not stand being made to feel that way. It was always him. She even gave it a name, death by sarcasm.

Made in heaven? She knew what he meant. That Zeke and her were not made in heaven but rather designed for each other in test tubes. He found her enthusiasm over the match ridiculous.

She only wished Adam knew how painfully obvious his hidden thoughts were to her. Nothing clever or brilliant about them. He was the ridiculous one. They were all in this together. They were to save the human race. The plan was sound and simple and necessary.

To make fun of it all was immature. Pointless. It made her want to scream every time he opened his mouth.

* * *

ADAM TRUSTED NO ONE. The only thing he knew was that he had been born in a cage and now he lived in that cage.

He looked through and beyond the dome as the sun sank into the dark waters. He thought of the world outside, the world beyond the horizon. People were out there still, living and dying. They were getting rained on. They were scrounging for food. They were being put to the test, fighting for every breath, unprotected by a team of doctors.

“We’re just bugs in a jar,” Adam proclaimed, sensing Tuna walking up behind him.

“Speak for yourself,” Tuna said. “I’m a rock star in a glass arena.” Tuna could always bring Adam back from one of his dark moods.

When Tuna pretended to strum his air guitar, Adam shoved Tuna’s shoulder. “Oh yeah, did Cassie survive your rock-star moves on the dance floor?”

“There’s no surviving my moves, Thirdborn.” A huge grin broke out on Tuna’s chubby, pink face.

They turned back and watched the others dancing.

“Hey, Tuna, I need your genius.” Adam turned to Tuna who became suddenly uneasy. “I want to try the onboard again.”

Tuna closed his eyes. Adam grinned.

“Dude, come on,” Adam urged. “Where’s your sense of exploration?” Adam weighed Tuna’s low level of enthusiasm before continuing. “I mean what are we but explorers? One year from now, we’ll get in those ships and leave the planet behind. We will explore the far reaches of the galaxy looking for a new home.”

Tuna shook his head. “I knew it. I knew I should not come over here, but I came anyway. I thought
, There’s Adam, he’s having a mood. Why don’t I go on over and cheer him up?
But then I thought,
No! Bad idea! Run away! You’ll regret it! Danger!
” Tuna finally turned to Adam. “Well, here I am, regretting it.”

Adam smiled. “Stop playing, T. You’re the one who figured out how to alter the signal on the onboard audio relay system. We need to hear it again. It came from the outside.”

“You don’t know that,” Tuna was quick to counter.

“Okay, I don’t know, but that’s why we need to hear it again. I need to know. It’s eating at me. And I know it’s eating at you.”

Tuna considered Adam’s words. He sighed and finally nodded to give his consent. Adam beamed and put his arm around Tuna.

“Good man,” Adam assured. “We need to know what’s going on outside this dome.”

“Tomorrow after navigation class,” Tuna said under his breath as Zeke and Ozzie approached.

Ozzie drank the last of his punch and threw the plastic cup in a small trashcan then grinned widely at Adam. “Come on, Thirdborn, I can’t dance with Sylvia all night. She’s your intended. I have my own girl to entertain.”

“Look outside the glass sometime, Ozzie,” Adam said. “Do you see anyone out there dancing?”

Zeke quickly stepped between Adam and Ozzie. “Give it a rest, Adam,” Zeke said sternly. “We are not outside the glass. We are never going to be outside the glass.”

Adam stepped towards Zeke. Although slightly shorter he was well-muscled and not intimidated in the least by the firstborn.

Tuna was quick to act. “Guys, really? Come on, this is a party.”

Adam considered Tuna, flashed a look of disgust at Zeke and then walked away.

Ozzie shook his head. “What’s his malfunction?”

Tuna turned away from his friends. Zeke spotted the guilt.

“Tuna, what?”

“He’s been spending a lot of time talking with Doctor Hossler.” Tuna hesitated before he sighed and continued. “Non-protocol stuff.”

Zeke flashed disappointment as he turned to watch Adam climb back up to his perch on the lighting support.

“Doesn’t Adam know about Old Hoss?”

Tuna was unsure what Zeke meant.

“He got word last week,” Ozzie explained. “His youngest son was hidden in an underground shelter, still surviving. I think he was thirty-five years old. There was an attack. Cannibals.”

“No way,” Tuna said, choking up.

Ozzie just nodded solemnly.

Zeke studied Adam up above on the lighting support. “The old man’s going stir crazy,” he finally said. “He’s been here with the Eden Project for sixteen years. His son was nineteen the last time he saw him. Now he’s talking nonsense. Non-protocol nonsense.”

* * *

GEN SPOTTED ADAM AGAIN up above on his perch. She’d had enough. “Cassie, can you cover for me?

Cassie nodded quickly from a sense of duty, but was less than thrilled to consent. Gen handed her the punch ladle, quickly spun away and walked into a small adjoining office.

The room lit up as she entered. The door slid closed as she sat down and touched the computer screen embedded in the glass wall.

“Genevieve Fifthborn for Doctor Becker, please.”

“I’m in love with Adam Thirdborn and I want it to stop,” Gen proclaimed with an air of defiance.