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"Evolution"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, quasi-dark, genetically engineered
pilots, test tube babies, lab-created Gods, pseudoscience. Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5x13, 13xUne Summary: Zayeed Winner, founder of The Human Perfect
Project, makes miracles happen in the laboratory by creating genetically
engineered children. It's only when it's too late that he discovers
playing God can result in catastrophic consequences. " Evolution" Chapter 1 - The Godfather of Evolution
If there was anything...anything in the world that Zayeed Winner hated, it was that title. The little pansy-ass editor of Genome, the snottiest and most pretentious science magazine in existence, had unofficially named him that while piss drunk at the launch of his newest project. It stuck like shit to a newspaper and now everyone and their goddamn brother had to call him that every time they saw him. It was usually accompanied by a hearty slap on the back which made Zayeed want to make a necklace out of their teeth. His brightest and most renowned idea to date was responsible for the unwanted attention. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of when he considered that it had come to him in his second year of grad school at three in the morning after a Friday night kegger. A few dozen beer bongs later and he was sprawled on the floor of his flat, furiously scratching equations on the back of an empty pizza box with a hot pink, pompon-tipped pen. He wasn't even completely sure what he was doing until he woke up around noon the next day with his face smooshed against the carpet. It occurred to his hungover mind, between puking up a week's worth of cheap beer, that he'd just written down the formula to create a prototype human being. From scratch. It dawned on him how dangerous this revelation was, especially if this formula got into the wrong hands. Feeling exceptionally paranoid, and not just from the residual effects of all the ganja he'd smoked, he quickly copied the figures into a journal and carried the pizza box out to the parking lot of his apartment building and burned it into a pile of ash. That journal was never far away from him and he all but threatened the lives of anyone who dared touch it. He revered it, like some kind of ancient relic, intrigued by the concept, but terrified of it at the same time. He would often stay up late at night, reading it over, considering the possibilities. It was a dangerous idea that was likely to garner lots of controversy, but one that could potentially change the landscape of human progression. It could lead to cures of common ailments, allow amputees to grow their own missing limbs back, initiate the regrowth of healthy cells. Organ transplants would be a thing of the past. A patient suffering from organ failure could simply grow themselves a new one. It could reverse the aging process, all but eliminate age-related diseases and conditions...the list of possibilities when on and on. The idea that he could be playing God didn't faze him much considering he didn't believe in any. That was simply a tactic used by those who feared progress. He was a scientist and this was what scientists did. Made new discoveries, improved on old ones. In a sense, they were gods. They could create a new species with a petri dish and turkey baster, for Christ's sake, and watch the little critters multiply and colonize their surroundings while their human creators watched them through a microscope and munched on French fries. It sounded close enough to Zayeed. What did being a god entail anyway? Scientifically wired, the idea of playing such a being intrigued him, tempted him, and as the years went by, that temptation called to him more and more. He'd started out in a small lab working with a few other doctors on the effects of cross-breeding, but late at night, he would work alone after everyone else went home. Theoretically, his idea was sound, flawless, but the execution was much more difficult. Manipulating and tweaking different single-celled organisms in order to construct a strand of human DNA was challenging to say the least. When he'd managed to succeed in creating one strand and build upon it, it would die. The matrix of information that went into creating the complexities that made up a human being was a daunting task and he'd spent many a night in his tiny little lab screaming in rage as he threw glass beakers across the room. For a time, he scrapped the project, at a complete stand-still. He'd managed to create a new strand of virus and that had been the spectacularly pitiful highlight of his progress. He was transferred to a larger, more state-of-the-art lab a year later, just outside of the Sanq kingdom, thanks to his promising work which involved cloning red blood cells. This achievement won him the Nobel Prize in Science and Medicine and paved the way for promising treatments for patients who suffered from a myriad of bleeding disorders and injuries. It was there that he'd met Quatrine, a fellow scientist, and the woman of his dreams. Quatrine was working in Bio-Level Three, studying semi-treatable contagions. Zayeed was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her and asked her out for coffee the following week. She accepted and the two hit it off beautifully. Quatrine was sweet, funny, and incredibly sharp. She'd had a hand in developing vaccines for hard-to-treat influenza, and she'd published a paper that helped lead to an effective cure for Tuberculosis. In the weeks and months that followed, the two doctors became quite immersed in their little romance and it was only six months later that Zayeed had gotten down on one knee in the middle of a busy café in Paris and asked her to be his wife. She happily accepted and by the following September, they were wed. Quatrine desperately wanted a child, but that was proving to be more difficult than they'd originally thought. Zayeed found himself having to make love to his wife on a schedule, as spontaneity could result in a failure to conceive. Often times, he had to leave work in the middle of a project because she'd called to tell him she was ovulating. And month after month, he would hold her as she wept through one menstrual cycle after another. It was then that he began to seriously consider picking up where he'd left off. If he could somehow make it possible for Quatrine to have her child, then it was worth the endless hours of grueling and frustrating work. Unfortunately, he still couldn't create a DNA strand that wasn't fatally flawed, but he could start with a sperm and egg, creating the child for her. In this, he hoped he could later reverse the process with a subsequent egg and sperm. His goal was to watch the creation of life go backwards in time and trace it all the way down to its most primitive process, to the very first steps. It was his best chance of succeeding at his original concept. From there, he might be able to build a successful strand of DNA that was strong enough to endure manipulation. Quatrine was reluctant to do it that way, but she'd begun to realize that it may never happen naturally. Zayeed assured her she could still carry the child after he implanted the fertilized egg into her uterus. She agreed. It was the best they could do. Zayeed extracted ten eggs from Quatrine's ovaries and added his sperm to each one separately. His original intent had been to just let nature take its course from there, but as a scientist, he wondered what else he could do to improve their chances of a successful child. He began to ponder the possibility of removing certain predetermined traits, such as a predisposition for cancer, or heart disease. He wondered if he could make the child more intelligent and more prone to positive behaviors, like a competitive personality, a drive to succeed. He realized what he was holding in his hands and the prospects, the endless possibilities stretched out before him. Oh, the things he could do! The kind of person he could create. With his own two hands. He could make anyone he wanted. In essence, the perfect child. He began tinkering with the development process, extracting the DNA information from both his sperm and Quatrine's eggs. He immediately located some of the more dominant problematic traits, singled out a propensity for prostate cancer in his own genetic line, and a predisposed risk of pulmonary disease and depression on Quatrine's side. He eradicated both with minimal issues and tweaked the physical platform to create an optimal health profile. Every negative trait he could find, he removed from the first two specimens and waited to see what would happen. The first specimen seemed to be of inferior quality and died off pretty quickly. The second one struggled, but survived. Zayeed noted some genetic weaknesses that resulted from the testing and destroyed it. He tried with the third and had more success, but it still didn't come out as strong as he'd liked. When he manipulated the fourth one, he was astonished at what he saw. The fourth specimen not only survived the process, but flourished. Both its physical and emotional profile far surpassed his expectations. He'd successfully isolated every physical and mental black mark from the specimen and removed it and the specimen came back stronger than before. He set that one aside so as not to possibly destroy it with any further testing. He wanted a good specimen to implant into his wife should his further experiments fail and this would be the fallback one. He repeated the same procedures on the fifth and sixth one. Both died. He proceeded onto the next two and got the same result with the eighth that he did with the fourth. Now it was time to see what happened when he added some traits. He isolated the genes that controlled the most basic functions of intelligence and cognition and increased them to twice their capacity. So far, so good. He tripled the intelligence quota and the specimen seemed to do just fine. He increased its problem solving capabilities to four times its original capacity and watched in wonder as the specimen easily adapted to the changes. Nearly drunk with elation, he singled out a trait for photographic and eidetic memory and tweaked it into dominance. He laughed giddily as the specimen took that too, with relative ease. He increased its endurance and stamina and clapped his hands when it was accepted. Holy fucking shit. He was consumed by a rush of adrenaline like he'd never felt before. It didn't occur to him that he may have been overdoing it. It didn't occur to him that this process might result in an unforeseen, but negative effect. Something like this had never been accomplished before, not with any semblance of success, and he was planning on putting this unvetted specimen into his wife with the intent of it growing into a person. It never occurred to him that something could go horribly wrong. All he could think about were the endless possibilities, the name he'd make for himself by creating the very first perfect human being. This child would essentially grow up with intelligence far superior to those already well-into adulthood, including his own, with gifts that far surpassed the talents that any of his naturally born peers could ever hope to accomplish. This child would blow them all out of the water with little effort. Zayeed cackled and rubbed his hands together. His name would go down in history. He'd just made the first leap in the creation of a flawless race of human beings. He watched with unbridled pleasure as the fertilized egg, with all its new and improved traits, divided itself into more and more cells. The developing zygote the literal first of its kind. In the morning, he would implant it into his wife's womb. He couldn't wait to watch their child grow up, couldn't wait to watch him, or her outshine every other child out there. He returned home to find Quatrine collapsed on the floor, not breathing. Panicked, he called for help and administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until they arrived. The paramedics did all they could, but they were unable to revive her. An autopsy later revealed that she'd died of a sudden brain aneurysm. Grief-stricken, Zayeed scrapped the project once again, placing the surviving embryos in cryogenic stasis. It was two years later when he'd, on a whim that he couldn't explain, pulled them back out. He could still go through with it and this way, he'd still have a piece of Quatrine with him. He prepared two incubating tubes with synthetic amniotic fluid and placed both the fourth and the eighth specimens inside each one and watched the magic happen. By the third week, specimen number eight had died, but number four was thriving, and by the sixth week, the monitors had picked up a heartbeat. By week nine, the embryo was moving the stumps that would soon develop into arms, legs, hands, and feet. Against his better judgement, Zayeed interfered with its development once again. He still had two more eggs to work with if this one didn't pan out. He gave the embryo the same advanced intelligence, stamina, and endurance that he'd given specimen number eight and removed any propensity for health problems. He added personality traits such as an affinity for music, science, and mathematics. He gave it impeccable problem-solving capabilities with lightning-quick cognitive reasoning. As a final touch, he added Quatrine's physical traits: blond hair, blue eyes, and her exquisite facial bone structure. Specimen number four handled the changes quite well and continued to grow at a steady rate. Its vitals were strong and by the thirteenth week, it had developed into an extremely robust fetus. He watched as the specimen progressively resembled a tiny human, watched as it curled its little fingers and toes and he laughed, delighted as he watched his creation thrive inside the tube. He was obsessed with observing every minute detail as the fetus moved its arms and legs, opened its mouth, and even had hiccups. He'd already known that the specimen was male and Zayeed was awe-struck as he watched his son get bigger and bigger, filling out his tiny body, resembling a baby with each passing week. He watched as he responded to stimuli and underwent routine sleep and wake cycles. He watched his eyes open for the first time and even thought the child could see him at one point. A few weeks later, the fully developed infant was ready to emerge from the tank and Zayeed carefully pulled him out, suctioned any remaining fluid from the baby's nose and mouth, and cried joyfully as the child took his first breath and howled in rage. Zayeed bundled him with blankets after checking him over thoroughly for any health issues. There seemed to be none. He held the infant close to his chest, tears rolling down his cheeks as blue eyes peered up at him with a sharpness that wasn't typical with newborns this young. The baby actually seemed to be studying him, memorizing him. He wanted to name him something related to his wife. He started with the first four letters, "Quat" and tried to think of a fitting suffix. Quatrine was French and Berber. The baby was the fourth specimen and the sole surviving embryo. It came to him like an epiphany. Quatre. It was perfect. A perfect name for a perfect child. There was only one small problem. How was he to explain this to the world? He'd just created the world's first genetically engineered human being. This was big. So very big. So he did what any respectable scientist would do: he went to the media. He realized later that that probably wasn't what any respectable scientist would do, but his brain was so fried and he was so proud. He soon found himself at the top of the list of the most reputable scientists. The creator of the first designer child, a miracle worker...the Godfather of Human Evolution. He launched the Human Perfect Project and dedicated it to his late wife. It became a scientific staple in the study and advancement of human genetics. Soon, he was creating children for couples who wanted a child, but couldn't have them. He would note their desires for a male, or female child, their wishes for the child to be an athletic, or musical prodigy, or to be a straight A student. To have brown hair, blond hair, red hair. To have blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes. He extracted the eggs and sperm from the prospective parents and tinkered with their DNA, removing any genetic markers for preventable diseases and nine months later, the child would be removed from the tube. It would be checked over by pediatricians and then turned over to their parents. The grants poured in with abundance and he used the funds to his advantage, spending long hours in his labs, rarely eating or sleeping. He employed a few other doctors that he'd personally vetted and could be fairly sure they wouldn't expose his secrets and violate his patent. He worked closely with a young doctor, named Sally Po, and the two got along well together. He employed her to study the developmental reversal process of the last two specimens, and one icy cold winter morning, long before the sun rose up over the horizon, the two scientists had mapped the reversal down to its most primordial state. It was brilliant...genius even. Now, with only a few simple blood cells, they could create a human being without the need for eggs and sperm. They started out with two dozen specimens and gave them each different traits. They constructed new strands of DNA into something all its own. Several of the specimens expired while several others seemed to do well, but Zayeed and Dr. Po watched with breathless amazement as specimens one, two, three, and five, surpassed their expectations, easily trumping their surviving peers. He gave Specimen One superior physical strength and a propensity to solve problems in the blink of an eye. Zayeed wanted him to grow up to be a blunt, honest person and didn't focus too much on amicability, or a need for etiquette. This child would be technically minded, able to decode complex algorithms with minimal effort. He'd given Specimen Two the ability for speed and exceptional cunning, but he chose to give this one a much more friendly personality. Charming, charismatic, and slick. He also added a touch of humor and a distinct distaste for dishonesty. Specimen Three also had superior physical strength, but was given a grace and agility that the others did not possess. He was engineered to be larger than the others, but instilled with an ability to sneak his way around without being noticed. He was given a milder personality than his brethren. Friendly, soft-spoken, with a sense of humor. Specimen Five was created to be quick-witted, hot-tempered, and highly principled. He was given a penchant for martial arts and superior fighting skills. He was created to be smart, stubborn, and argumentative. Something Zayeed also didn't fail to notice was that they were progressing far quicker than they should have been. By the twelfth week, they were developmentally at the sixteen week stage and both Zayeed and Dr. Po were astonished. This was extraordinary! As the embryos quickly became fetuses and developed in almost half the time of a normal human, Zayeed and Dr. Po looked at each other from across the work table, eyes wide in fascination and a little fear at what they'd done. Within five and a half months, the four thriving fetuses were ready to emerge from their tubes, while their surviving peers continued to take the typical nine months. He couldn't be sure what happened to these four that caused the exceptional development. A mutation perhaps, but he hadn't noticed any red flags when he was creating them. The four infants, all appropriately named Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei, were taken home to be raised by him and his team of nurses, caregivers, and educators. They would grow up alongside Quatre, who was now three months old and developing beautifully, already looking so much like his mother. Quatre's motor skills were far more advanced than the average three month old. He was already mastering his pincer's grasp and was close to being able to sit up on his own. His vocalizations were more fitting of a six to seven month old, and his eyes...the perfect replica of Quatrine's could easily focus on and track moving objects from a considerable distance. Zayeed had been floored and rather unsettled the previous month when he'd come home one night and checked on Quatre, only to find the child staring at him with eyes that seemed sharper than that of someone five times his age. He knew, somehow, that Quatre not only recognized him, but was actually learning him, studying him and recording his movements and his interactions. It was as if the infant was taking intricate notes. He'd shivered, left the room and went to bed, though he'd been unable to sleep. Quatre was his crowning achievement. He had been given unprecedented levels of intelligence, more so than his other specimens. The baby was already figuring things out, things that took a normal child several years to do. It made him uneasy. He realized that he'd been so excited by his visions of human advancement, that he hadn't prepared himself for the reality. The finished product right there in the flesh. He groaned and flopped down onto his bed, arm flung over his eyes. He prayed for the first time in decades. He prayed that he hadn't just created something that would come back to bite humanity in the ass. He'd had the uncanny notion when he looked at his son, that he was Frankenstein, looking into the eyes of his monster. ~ * ~ |
