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Twenty-Three

[[" . . .taken into custody were Arlene Bermond, seen leaving federal court in Des Moines, lowa; and Janessa Williams, here being escorted into federal court in Kansas City, Missouri. Both were arraigned this week on charges of trafficking in human lives and violations of constitutional rights. Bermond, the sister of Rewound Child Marian Athlington, allegedly sold custodial rights to Athlington to the drug company Tydings APR for two hundred fifty thousand dollars. Williams had been married to Aaron Fairfax, also a Rewound Child, at the time of the Holn incident and she allegedly annulled the marriage and sold Fairfax's rights to the same company for four hundred fifty thousand dollars. FBI spokespersons say the international drug conglomerate was interested in determining if the procedure used to make the adults into children was commercially viable.

"Also facing charges are the president and CEO of Tydings APR, Richard Salcido, and the company's chief counsel, Bucklin Corstain. As a result, Tydings stock value began to fall on international markets . . ."]]

 

* * *

 

So that's what I was worth to Janessa. Aaron looked over at Marian, who stood rigid, hands clenched into fists, face frozen into a mask. He started to put an arm around her, but she turned her back to the TV.

"Forget her," she said more to herself. "She's in the past. Let her stay there." She fixed Aaron with a sharp gaze. "Why are you worth more than I am?"

"Probably because Janessa is a harder bargainer than your sister."

She jerked her head as if trying to dislodge something. "Let's go. We don't want to be late to our appointment with Dr. Sena."

 

* * *

 

[["We do this because the government won't. Look at the release we gave you people. It's a copy of a memo from the Vice President of the United States to the secretary of Health and Human Services suggesting the latter, quote, push the whole thing under the rug, end quote. Now I would suggest that started the whole chain of events that led to six Rewound Children being killed and the others suffering from attacks physical and mental. Did you know, for instance, that this very thing had been proposed by Dr. Miranda Sena nearly a year ago? It was promptly shot down.

"As far as the lawsuits are concerned, we will file to redress injustices done to the Rewoundees through seizure of property and denial of rights—"

"Ms. MacAlister, didn't the Alden Commission settle all this?"

"I don't think so, and I have a coven of constitutional lawyers who agree with me. A commission is not a court. There is no legal precedent for such a thing. Our challenge will start at the federal district court level and move up to the Supreme Court. We'll see what Justice Alden does then, won't we?"

"Your whole attitude, Ms. MacAlister, seems to be that the government hasn't done anything right—"

"It hasn't. Let me tell you people something: start digging. Find out who really has been controlling the situation. The Holn Effect Task Force is merely the public body, nearly powerless. Find out who are the ones moving in stealth behind the scenes, the ones wanting to push it all away. It hasn't been possible despite their best efforts, and it's probably because you people have kept the news about these people alive. Congratulations. Now, dig and find more dirt. There's lots more where this memo came from."

"You really think the government is that bad?"

"In this case, yes. Partly because the people involved didn't realize how serious this was. They were all too busy trying to get re-elected. When they did realize the impact, they got scared. When governmental types get scared, they try to shove the blame off on someone else. People inside this government have made some terrible decisions that led to some horrible deaths. Problem is, they won't recognize their culpability. They'll deny it to the day they die. Well, I don't intend to let them. Now, that's all. I don't want to miss the task force's press conference this afternoon, and neither do you. It'll blow your socks off."

"Well, that's the end of the press conference by the rather outspoken Wynona MacAlister as we watch her leave the room, where she announced her famous foundation was establishing a sanctuary for the Rewound Children in California. The project was kept secret until three days ago, and by then, the foundation had bought the land, started renovations, and had contacted the children. In addition, the children had been moved to secret quarters in Los Angeles two weeks ago for what the task force has termed follow-up examinations.

"Her actions are getting support in the United States Senate, where a bill has been introduced that will give federal status to the sanctuary and also transfer control of the Holn Effect Task Force from the Department of Health and Human Services to the National Academy of Sciences. The measure is sponsored by two members of the American Alliance party, but the Senate majority leader is reported to have said the bill has a snowball's chance in hell.

"Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of the finding of the Rewound Children, and a lot has happened in that year. A lot more seems to be happening today, what with one press conference so far and the one Ms. MacAlister mentioned by the task force later today. That one is the subject of much anticipation.

"Browning Wells, MSNBC, Los Angeles."]]

 

* * *

 

For the tenth time, Miranda checked her notes, trying to ensure everything she wanted to say was somewhere on the white cards. Whether the press would let her say it all was another matter, but she would try. At least she would not be facing the pack alone this time; Dr. Innes and Matt would be with her. Avram uncharacteristically had stepped back from delivering the latest, and most important, results.

"My job is political," he had said. "The scientists directly involved should be the ones behind the words this time."

"Come in," she said automatically to the knock on her door as she double-checked an information sheet.

"Dr. Sena, I presume?" a childlike voice said.

She turned. "Aaron Fairfax and Marian Athlington, I presume back."

"At your service."

She noted the dry humor as she extended a hand. Both of theirs were small in hers, but with firm grips. Aaron wore a white shirt and dark trousers, Marian a light-blue blouse, dark-blue skirt. Her flowing hair was pulled back, cascading down her back to her knees.

"Please, be seated." Miranda pulled her desk chair over and sat down. Marian sat in the chair next to the desk while Aaron pulled an armchair closer.

Subjects do not have the motions of average children, she had read in one of the reports. Now that they have had time to adjust, they are more confident about their orientation and do not display hesitancy or misplaced gestures often seen in children this approximate physical age.

"I know both of you pretty well on a molecular level, but I'm ashamed to say I know little else. Even though you've been here a couple of weeks, I still couldn't seem to find time to see you."

"We know you a bit from TV," Aaron said.

She grimaced.

"Earl spoke highly of you," Marian said.

"Earl is one of the more unusual members of the group." Miranda said. "Oh, by the way, Aaron, here's the book you'd asked for." She handed it to him in a sack. "Alex asked me to give it to you. She says it's only a 1996 edition, but it was the only hardcover she could find."

"Oh, great." He slid the book out of the sack, glanced at the complimentary bookmark. Then he handed it to Marian. "It's for you, actually. Magic Mountain, to replace the one lost in the fire."

"That one was only a paperback," she said.

"This one's nicer."

Miranda studied them during the exchange. Matt was right; they were good-looking children. But their eyes held more depth, more intensity, than a "normal" child's would have. And their body language carried other meanings as they leaned toward each other and touched each other lightly. Could they be in love? Possibly, and Miranda felt that something about the two together made sense, like two lost pieces of a puzzle just found and not to be separated again.

"I want to apologize," Miranda said. "For the suffering, the pain and the sorrow."

"You sound like you're taking the whole burden upon yourself," Marian said, closing the book. "It's not your fault the Holn came and did this."

"Unless you gave them our names," Aaron added.

"That's part of the trouble. I didn't know your names until much later. You were just numbers crunched into visual data dancing around on my computer screen. By the time I got curious enough to find out about the humans behind the numbers, it was too late. You had vanished and three others were dead already."

"How would you know," Marian said, looking down at her hands, "that my own sister would sell me for medical experiments?"

"I have been accused of being that coldhearted. Just another heartless scientist seeking knowledge without concern for human suffering."

"A few weeks ago, I might have agreed, Dr. Sena," Marian said, fastening a direct gaze back on her. "In the days when we were bitter because we didn't understand what had happened to us and it seemed the rest of the world thought we were better off dead. Or in a lab."

"And now?"

"During the year, it became clear that one voice kept speaking for us, taking our side, pleading our case," Aaron said. "That voice was yours."

"Perhaps because I finally stumbled upon the real stakes here. I should say we. You have no idea what your cases have done to the studied aloofness of scientific detachment. And we find ourselves slightly bewildered by it, too." She glanced at the clock. "I've got to go. The press will not remain docile for long. Thanks for the visit. I hope we can do this again soon."

"You know our address. Come up and visit. As a friend."

"Thank you, Marian. I will."

After the door shut, Miranda returned to her desk to gather her notes. Why did I get so emotional when they were found? Now I know.

 

* * *

 

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." Miranda looked out over the field of faces that jammed the auditorium. "I am Miranda Sena, scientific director of the Holn Effect Task Force. At the podium to my left is Dr. Samuel Innes, a member of the task force and an eminent neurobiologist from the University of Florida. On my right is Dr. Matthew Gunnarson, another eminent scientist, this time in genetics, from Princeton." Each stood at his own podium. She tried to stand as straight as possible between the two men. "We'll start with a general statement, then answer any—well, most—of your questions. We hope by being willing to do so the message we want to get across eventually will."

In a corner to her right, leaning against a wall behind two reporters wearing bored expressions, she saw Avram Rolstein smirk.

"It's one day past a year since the Holn visitors left the changed seventeen human beings on a hillside. In that time, much has happened, some of it tragic. Some of it avoidable, but we don't want to get into that."

Miranda straightened the white card on the lectern.

"We are here to announce two main conclusions of the research of the Holn Effect Task Force. These are based upon on our own studies, some of which have been confirmed in part by the last message from the Holn.

"First, the mechanism the extraterrestrial visitors used to cause these changes was a form of molecular machinery, machines the size of molecules that can rebuild, remodel, remove, and otherwise remake cells. The Holn confirmed this, also stating the machines were organic in origin. The procedure was done whole-body; that is, all organs, bones, tissues and glands were done at once. The few memories the individuals have of oval rooms and spidery—probably mechanical—armatures, serve to reinforce this hypothesis."

She took a breath, wished for but put off a glass of water. "Second, all surviving members of the Group of Seventeen have shown growth. These include increases in height, from just under two to about five centimeters. The uneven rates are what you'd expect among differing individuals. Bones are lengthening and ribs are reossifying at the proper junctions. Tendon and muscle tissue are expanding and keeping up with the bone-growth rates. All growth is within parameters we would expect in the immature human genome.

"We believe all members of the group are growing up again, if you will, and they will be able to live normal, healthy lives once again."

 

* * *

 

"I already knew that," Earl said. Around him, the group had gathered to watch the news conference on one of six video screens. Across the room, a lavish buffet was being attended to by some of the medical and security staff.

"How did you know?" Jerry Rithen said.

"A rambunctious teenager remembered what they said our height was after the ship let us go. She and her siblings measured me and lo, almost an inch taller."

"Now why the hell didn't we think of that?"

 

* * *

 

 

" I firmly believe now they are human." Dr. Innes placed his hands on the edges of the podium. He doesn't look as aged, Miranda thought. "My group and the task force in general have found nothing to indicate otherwise. No mechanical contrivances, no foreign—if you'll forgive the term—bodies, no systemic changes in any organ are indicated. This includes the brain."

"But hasn't there been some rejiggering of their genes?" someone yelled out.

"Yes," Matt said. "And from what we can determine, the changes are for the good. A stitch in a DNA pair to decrease susceptibility to a disease, for instance. The most famous, of course, is the change that lessens the risk of inherited breast cancer in one of the women. And I'm sure we'll find others. Preliminary results suggest the Holn discovered a way to boost immune systems—"

A clamor cut him off. "You mean," a reporter finally managed to shout above the din, "that they made them immune to disease?"

Earl Othberg sprang to Miranda's mind again. One report had said he spent much time in the Hawaiian sun, swimming, bicycling, skateboarding, in scanty clothing and without protection from UV exposure. He reported no sunburns, confirmed by family members, and his skin had tanned only slightly. This flew in the face of a family history of skin susceptible to sun damage.

" . . . I want to stress that probably ninety-nine percent of an individual's DNA has been left alone," Matt was saying. "If they had a weakness for chocolate before the Holn incident, they still crave chocolate now.

"I would, however, caution everyone not to denigrate human science and attribute all the good stuff to the Holn. In the last forty years, we have made tremendous strides in understanding our own organism. We've identified many of the areas where miscued genes cause a host of life-threatening conditions, including colorectal cancer, breast cancer, Huntington's disease, multiple sclerosis, some birth defects, and many, many more. How else would we know what the Holn did to these people? There's an unfortunate tendency, however, to say the Holn came and cured everything. I don't think that's quite true. I don't think these people are going to live the rest of their lives without catching another cold. They're still at risk of cancer from exposure to toxic substances. And aging—well, we'll have to wait another generation now to find out what the changes did to the natural processes of aging. Someone younger than me will have to do those studies."

One shout rose above the others: "Can you be saying, then, they have created the Superman?"

"No. I don't think you'll see a super race walking the Earth in the next ten years."

 

* * *

 

"A nurse asked me about colds and flu at Grid Manor." Aaron leaned back in an overstuffed chair. "I told her there were plenty of colds and stuff around, but it all seemed to skip over us. She said, 'Our point exactly.'"

"Yeah, I got the same response from someone else," Eddie Thompson said. "I wonder if we have been changed. Made super or something."

"That's the whole problem, isn't it?" Cheryl Vroman, on the couch next to Marian and Linda. "We don't know yet."

"How's your arm?" Marian asked.

"Huh? Oh, it's fine." She absently rubbed the spot where it had been broken. "My doctors said it healed almost perfectly and much more rapidly than they exp—" She stopped, stared at Marian.

"'Our point exactly,'" Aaron said.

 

* * *

 

"You said molecular machinery was used as the means to effect the metamorphoses?"

"Yes," Miranda said, setting down a pitcher of water, "although I don't think metamorphosis is the word we should use here."

"Do you think this has applications on Earth?"

"Oh, yes. Nanotechnology, as we refer to it, is a definite research goal here. The Holn machines are a little different in that they're all organic. The Holn devices resemble proteins more than vacuum cleaners, and can be eliminated from the system as regular organic waste."

"This is based on one line in a cryptic message?"

"No, they said 'we confirm' and 'organic.' We found remnants of unusual compounds in each individual, compounds that gradually dissipated over time. The relevant groups in the task force are pursuing this, hoping to find clues to the structure of these devices. What probably will remain the mystery is the step-by-step procedure, the details. Actually, though, that really isn't important."

 

* * *

 

"I see your prediction came true," Aaron said as Tom sat down on the couch arm.

"Yeah."

"What prediction?" Cheryl said.

"The state wants to remove me from the home of a homosexual. They say the Holn might have fixed me so I'm not gay anymore and they don't want bad influences to corrupt me again."

"Jesus. Well, I'll tell you, if I were still a lawyer, I'd offer my services."

"Thanks. The ACLU has jumped in. And the foundation." He stroked his chin. "Of course, it's not just the state. A gay AIDS activist told me I should've had AIDS, or at least been HIV positive, so the miracle cure would have been worthwhile."

"God," Linda said. "What did you say?"

"Mark decked the guy before I could."

"Good for him!"

"Ah, Paula," Pete said as Paula and Pam joined the group. "Been to any Wal-Marts lately?"

Paula laughed softly. "If you ever need a place to stay . . ." She shook her head. "I just don't believe I did that. God."

"Good thing we ran out of toilet paper when we did," Linda said. "I was—"

She was interrupted by a security guard accompanying a stocky UPS driver in brown shirt and shorts carrying a box. The guard pointed to Aaron.

"Aaron Fairfax?" the driver said. "This is for you. They X-rayed it before they'd let me deliver it."

Aaron accepted the signature pad but had to change hands so he could sign with his left. The box was heavy, and he glanced at the return address: The Astral Dance, Sedona, Arizona.

He smiled. "I know what it is."

The smoky quartz crystal was well packed.

"Wow," Cheryl said.

"Neat," Jerry said.

"Uh—weighs a ton," Marian said as Aaron handed it to her.

"At least thirty pounds. There's a note. 'Dear Mr. Fairfax. It wasn't until several weeks after it all happened before I grokked you were one of those people on the ship. To think what they did to you—it's mind-boggling. I remember your interest in the crystal, and as time went on I realized it belongs with you. Please accept it with my blessings. May the vibes it puts out give you peace and harmony.' Signed, Argon Donnell."

 

* * *

 

"Why change adults into children at all?"

"Now we're into the essentials of the matter," Miranda said. "Look at that line in the Holn message: 'If you want to kill the seventeen that is your choice. Look at your future first.' Future? As children? No. What did they say at the beginning? 'We do this for you. Beyond seventeen.' They're talking to all of us. They acknowledged our rise from instinct to reasoning beings and now they have set out a new challenge for us, the challenge of finding out how to remake ourselves—"

"What good is that knowledge?" Allan Goth, the unshutupable, Miranda thought. "What good does it do to turn adults into children?"

"You're missing the point again, Mr. Gulp." A few titters crackled around the room at Dr. Innes's quip. "Turning them into children is just the illustration, the example. Understand? First, the Holn rather spectacularly demonstrated we can defeat diseases and debilities that shorten our life span, disable us, hobble our minds, make us weak and ineffective. Second, they suggested we don't have to be limited by the physical limits of our bodies. They even wondered why we think it's necessary. No, as Dr. Gunnarson pointed out, we were well on our way to solving many of these problems ourselves. In many cases, for reasons political, financial, and cultural, we often hesitate at the brink of success, making progress slow and painful.

"This entire incident is about possibilities, Mr. Goop, and if jackasses like you would get the hell out of the way, we can get on with it."

"Oh, now you're going to start insulting me like you did Reverend van Kellin—"

"I am no longer interested in the worthless rantings of a paranoid old fool."

"Fine, but stop avoiding the issue, and that is whether the aliens the people have been turned into—"

"They are not alien, Mr. Goof, I just got through stating that," Dr. Innes said.

"I'm sorry, but I think—"

"Who the hell cares what you think!"

Matt and Dr. Innes looked over at each other. Both had uttered that last statement together, word for word. Matt walked over to Dr. Innes and both slapped palms in a high five. Laughter filled the room. Miranda just smiled, shook her head as Matt returned to his podium.

"OK," Miranda said as the laughter died, "there have been a lot of changes in the last year and you have just witnessed one. Now, if there are no more questions about the subject at hand, we will close the confer—"

The place erupted into shouts as reporters waved hands clutching electronic or standard pens, a few caps and even a white scarf. Avram disappeared behind the frantic shouting of the two now-lively reporters.

Of all the tasks Miranda ever had to face, one of the hardest she ever did was right at that moment as she struggled to keep her face bland despite the grin of triumph threatening to break free.

 

* * *

 

"I have some news," Marian said as she sat back down next to Earl on the couch.

"They have a whole news conference for that," Aaron said, still in the same chair. The others had drifted away as the press conference droned on.

"Not that," she said. "I was just talking to Jack, and he told me they got Slick Suit and Nurse Ames."

"Well, hallelujah. Still at the clinic?"

"Oh, no, they shut that down mid-March."

"What! You mean we've been fearful of leaving Grid Manor all that time and they'd already flown the coop?"

"According to Jack, the corporate guy in charge got nervous when Slick Suit and Dark Suit planned a big direct assault and he pulled the plug."

"Hell. What fools us mortals be." He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it.

Marian let out a small laugh. "That's not all."

Aaron lifted a corner and peered at her. "Now what."

"Jack says we weren't the targets for the arsonists in the Grid Manor fire. A businessman hired a couple of thugs to set it to force everyone out so the owner would have to sell it. The businessman didn't know we were there—"

Aaron sat up. "Wait. You're telling me we stumbled down dark stairs in thick black smoke and dangled in front of an open fire threatening to get roasted like a weenie because of a business rivalry?"

"That's it."

Aaron tossed the pillow, fell back. "Jesus H. Christ on a rubber crutch."

"You guys lead such interesting lives," Earl said.

 

* * *

 

"So how come we weren't invited to join the Holn's mother ship?" Kinsea Lee looked as dapper as ever.

"Humans could not survive on the Holn ship because their atmosphere is poisonous," Matt said. "It would take much re-engineering of the ship to accommodate us." He paused a moment. "But you know, that is a good question."

"Have you figured out what the missing word is in the Holn transmission?" The Japanese television reporter had to stand on a chair to be seen.

"JPL says the best they've come up with is 'solitary,'" Miranda said. "Now what does that mean? Separate from the body? Is there a quality that makes the mind coherent beyond its physical structure? As Dr. Innes pointed out, the Holn seem to think so. We're still struggling with that one."

"Dr. Gunnarson, does your hypothesis about the Holn keying on our worship of youth still stand up in the light of the recent message?" The questioner was George Johnson of the New York Times, the only one who had pursued the matter.

"Yes, because they regressed the adults into children. Why? Wouldn't Mr. Othberg, say, have been satisfied with the body of a thirty-year-old man? Probably, but going back to the genome of a child really grabbed our attention. We don't have to carry it that far, but, by God, look at the possibilities. That's the message there."

During the pause, Miranda scratched an itch above her eyebrow. Her mouth was dry, sweat trickled down her back, her leg muscles were rebelling. The press conference had been going on an hour and a half, and fortunately, it looked as though the reporters were running out of questions. She glanced at Dr. Innes and Matt. They'd planned this, rehearsed it and expected to be scorned for it, but, as Dr. Innes had said, "the critics can take their little tushies to hell."

"We've been talking in general terms about the consequences of the Holn actions, but we want to emphasize some points, particularly about the consequences to humanity in general and specifically the people you've"—not me—"dubbed the Rewound Children."

Matt took the baton. "The Holn came here out of curiosity. In the process, they answered two fundamental questions we had about ourselves. One: No, we are not alone in the universe. Two: No, we are not locked into the life cycle evolution has left us with. We are on the doorstep of a whole new world. I know that's a tired cliché, and it's been said many times before, such as when the Berlin Wall came down, or when the Republicans took control of the House and Senate in '94." He dismissed all with a wave of a hand. "Child's play."

"The challenges are horrendous." Heads and lenses swiveled to Dr. Innes. "And our history is atrocious at the times we've been handed the keys to each new world. Such as the moment in 1945 when we announced the nuclear age with spectacular fire and sound. Fear has driven everything connected to the atom since then. What we lack is wisdom—and lord, do we need it now. We have acted abominably toward the Group of Seventeen. Well, there are eleven left. We still have a chance to redeem ourselves. The Holn seem to think we're going to kill them all. I pray we can prove them wrong."

"And what about these individuals?" Miranda tried to focus on faces, not video equipment. "What does the future hold for them? How many times have we all said to ourselves 'I wish I could do it all over again'? How many times have we said to ourselves 'If I only knew then what I know now'? Well, these eleven people can do it all over again, and with the knowledge and experiences of one lifetime already. They don't have to make the same mistakes again. They can go on to do whatever they wish, start again, find a better life, learn new things, fall in love again, start new families, live a fuller life than they—or any of us—ever have dreamed about. This is what the Holn have done for these people.

"Last year, we had a presidential election, but little was said about these momentous events. Candidates grew angry because the Group of Seventeen was stealing their TV time. What foolishness. If you think these eleven people—and the six dead—were the only ones affected by the Holn visit, you are sadly mistaken.

"'Look to your future,' the Holn said. Are we brave enough—and wise enough—to live in that future?"

 

* * *

 

Aaron, feeling like a kid heading to the principal's office, followed Alex, a PR man, and an FBI agent toward the auditorium. Reporters weren't satisfied with all they'd just heard—now they wanted to hear from a Rewoundee, the one who spoke on the hill last June. "Me and my big mouth," he'd muttered. On stage, he jumped a couple of times and waved, trying to see over the podium. A box was brought for him as laughter filled the room.

"I am Aaron Lee Fairfax, I am forty-four years old and I used to own a Maserati. I don't anymore, but neither is it important anymore.

"We are not devils, we are not angels. We are not here to take over the Earth and subjugate everyone, although that does have its appeal. We are people, humans like all the rest of you, who became random subjects of an extraordinary series of events." Big words again coming out of such a small mouth.

"Now that we know we are going to grow up again, we have new hopes and dreams. As Dr. Sena so eloquently explained, we have second lives to live, and we wish to live them as best we can. I cannot say we will do a better job this time. We are still human, we still make human mistakes, we are still driven by the same human passions and desires. But we will try. We will go on, but with a whole new load of questions about ourselves and our future.

"And we will live with the memories in our hearts of the six people of the group who are not here. They were among us, and they were our friends.

"And humans do not forget their friends."

 

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