Nancy Kress - Nothing Human

“The what?”

“The righter. The organism to destroy the perversion and return the planetary genome to the right way.”

Cord left the window and squatted by her chair. It seemed important to meet her eyes directly, on the same level. “Miss… I mean, Pam, do you know that nearly the entire planet was killed in the last war?”

“Oh, yes. We know. Ship monitors thermal signatures from orbit.”

Cord didn’t know what a thermal signature was, but he was staggered by her casual unconcern. She must not have understood. He tried again. “I mean, did you know that almost all humans everywhere are dead?”

“Yes,” she said absently, turning back to her machine. “Oh, look, this allele is at least interesting.”

Something in Cord’s stillness finally caught her attention. She gazed at him with impersonal kindness. “You’re bothered, aren’t you, by all those deaths. Don’t be. Do you know what the right way really is, Cord? It’s what you’ve named ‘evolution.’ The organisms that can best adapt and breed survive, and others disappear. If they disappear, it means they weren’t fit to survive in the first place. Every species eventually gets to the point of directing their own evolution, and our mission is to help species get there faster. That inevitably means that lesser species disappear faster. But it’s nothing to mourn over, no more than was the disappearance of those big reptiles, I don’t remember the word for them.”

“Billions of people died! Billions!” What was happening here? This was the same argument Cord had had with Dr. Wilkins, only then it was Cord who hadn’t cared. But that was before he’d seen how indifference looked on somebody else.

“Yes, billions died,” Pam said with a brilliant smile, “but you won’t, nor your children. We’ve returned in time to ensure that, I think, even with the perversions that have been added to the environment. You and your children will survive and evolve.”

He could scarcely get words out. “And… and my mother…”

“Oh, yes, we’ll save her and any other remnants of the old species that we come across, anybody that gets to this ‘farm.’ At least, we’ll save them to the extent that non-germ-line alteration is possible. We’ll rehabilitate their genes so they don’t join the billions of obsolete dead. Yet. Of course we’ll do that.” Her voice took on tones of reproach.

“After all, Cord, we’re human, too.”

Uncle DeWayne eventually came out of the big house. It was full dark now, and he carried a powerful flashlight. These hoarded relics were usually saved for emergencies. DeWayne illuminated the ship, a straight-backed dignified black man with gray hair, and spoke without raising his voice. “My name is DeWayne Freeman. I’m addressing the pribir in the ship. You’re welcome at this farm. Come out of the ship and inside, please. No one will try to harm you if you don’t harm us, and everyone will be grateful for your help.”

“It’s about time,” Pete said. He’d returned fifteen minutes ago from wherever he’d been. Cord had the impression that he and Pam were communicating furiously, although they neither spoke nor looked at each other.

Pam made unreplicable sounds at the door and it opened. Cord emerged behind them.

The flashlight caught them full in the eyes and DeWayne courteously lowered it. The upward light cast weird shadows on DeWayne’s lined face, so that to Cord he suddenly looked more alien than the pribir. Cord looked away.

The only people in the great room were Dr. Wilkins, Emily, and Jody. How had Uncle DeWayne persuaded the others to retreat to the back rooms or the other houses? Or maybe Jody had, he was supposed to be the boss of the farm. Jody, who had never seen a pribir, never been smelled to by one, looked both apprehensive and curious. Emily, who had been aboard the ship, looked as if she was trying hard not to glare. Dr. Wilkins was expressionless.

“Hello, Emily,” Pam said. “You haven’t changed very much, dear.”

Emily scowled.

Pete said genially, “You must be Scott Wilkins.” He held out his hand and Dr. Wilkins took it. Pete looked expectantly at Jody.

Dr. Wilkins said, “This is Jody Romero Ridley, the son of Theresa Romero, who was at Andrews Air Force Base with me. Jody runs this farm.”

Pete and Pam smiled at Jody without interest. Pam said, “Where’s Lillie, Scott? Cord says she’s contracted one of your perverse bioweapons.” She pronounced the word with distaste.

How strange, Cord thought somewhere in the depths of his dazed mind. She can’t stand the thought of bioweapons, but she doesn’t care at all about the billions they killed.

“Yes,” Dr. Wilkins said, “Lillie is sick. The micro is out of her system. It started prion conversion to cause an accelerated form of fatal familial insomnia. It—”

” ‘Prions’?” Pam said. “We didn’t learn that word from Rafe or Emily. We’ll do our own analysis. Bring Lillie aboard the ship.”

“No,” Emily said, and Cord saw that she hadn’t been able to help herself. Were the memories of pribir ship that bad? For his mother, too? Emily pressed her lips together tightly and looked at the wall.

“Jody,” Dr. Wilkins said, “tell Mike to bring Lillie out.”

“Oh, Mike is here, too,” Pete said, sounding pleased. “You really must give us a complete list of our old friends.”

Emily started to leave the room.

“Emily,” Dr. Wilkins said, “come back. We both have to go aboard, too. To learn.”

Pam said doubtfully, “It’ll be very crowded.”

Pete added, “And you won’t learn anything, anyway. You couldn’t possibly build our equipment. That’s why we’re building the alterations right into your genes, to compensate for your ignorance. You know that.”

Emily slammed the door behind her.

Mike appeared, carrying Lillie. Cord felt tears prick his eyelids. Lillie was so thin her elbows were visible knobs. Much of her hair had fallen out. She was asleep, or drugged.

“Well, good heavens,” Pam said.

Pete added, “It appears our immune engineering was inadequate.”

Pam turned on him. “Who expected them to fuck up the environment this badly? The only genetic thing they are good at is perversions. All right, Mike, bring her along.” She stamped out, followed by Pete, Mike, and Dr. Wilkins.

Cord went with them. He couldn’t help himself. The procession went into darkness thick as mud, without DeWayne’s flashlight. Pete made a noise and the ship began to glow, guiding them. The door opened.

This time they went through the blank room and into one that made Cord blink. Machines lined all the walls —or were they machines? No, they were the actual walls, studded with projections and indentations, and as Cord watched, the walls slithered. Not slithering. Breathing.

Not breathing. Some other movement, unnamable but unmistakable. The walls were alive.

Pete made another sound and a wall indentation grew longer, higher, deeper. “There,” Pete said to Mike.

Mike stood unmoving.

“Oh, for—” Pam said, and effortlessly took Lillie from Mike’s arms. He tightened his grip for a moment, then let Lillie go. Pam laid her in the indentation and its back wall began to mold itself around her.

Cord broke and ran. This was not right. This was not human. As he fled through the blank outer room to the outdoors, he knew that he was being watched. He exploded into the darkness—the ship had stopped glowing—and bent over, gasping.

A moment later he was ashamed of himself. He was a coward. It was only technology, just machines using genetics instead of motors, just the right way, what did he fucking expect…

Not this. Not this.