Xenocide

“How lucky for him,” said Han Fei-tzu.

“Who is it?” asked Wang-mu.

“It's you,” said Ela. “Si Wang-mu.”

“Me?” She seemed baffled.

But Han Fei-tzu was not confused. “Ha!” he cried. “I should have known. I should have guessed! No wonder you have learned as quickly as my own daughter learned. No wonder you have had insights that helped us all even when you barely understood the subject you were studying. You are as godspoken as anyone on Path, Wang-mu-except that you alone are free of the shackles of the cleansing rituals.”

Si Wang-mu struggled to answer, but instead of words, tears came, silently drifting down her face.

“Never again will I permit you to treat me as your superior,” said Han Fei-tzu. “From now on you are no servant in my house, but my student, my young colleague. Let others think of you however they want. We know that you are as capable as anyone.”

“As Mistress Qing-jao?” Wang-mu whispered.

“As anyone,” said Fei-tzu. “Courtesy will require you to bow to many. But in your heart, you need bow to no one.”

“I am unworthy,” said Wang-mu.

“Everyone is worthy of his own genes. A mutation like that is much more likely to have crippled you. But instead, it left you the healthiest person in the world.”

But she would not stop her silent weeping.

Jane must have been showing this to Ela, for she kept her peace for some time. Finally, though, she spoke. “Forgive me, but I have much to do,” she said.

“Yes,” said Han Fei-tzu. “You may go.”

“You misunderstand me,” said Ela. “I don't need your permission to go. I have more to say before I go.”

Han Fei-tzu bowed his head. “Please. We are listening.”

“Yes,” whispered Wang-mu. “I'm listening too.”

“There is a possibility– a remote one, as you will see, but a possibility nonetheless– that if we are able to decode the descolada virus and tame it, we can also make an adaptation that could be useful on Path.”

“How so?” asked Han Fei-tzu. “Why should we want this monstrous artificial virus here?”

“The whole business of the descolada is entering a host organism's cells, reading the genetic code, and reorganizing it according to the descolada's own plan. When we alter it, if we can, we'll remove its own plan from it. We'll also remove almost all of its self-defense mechanisms, if we can find them. At that point, it may be possible to use it as a super-splicer. Something that can effect a change, not just on the reproductive cells, but on all the cells of a living creature.”

“Forgive me,” said Han Fei-tzu, “but I have been reading in this field lately, and the concept of a super-splicer has been rejected, because the body starts to reject its own cells as soon as they're genetically altered.”

“Yes,” said Ela. “That's how the descolada kills. The body rejects itself to death. But that only happened because the descolada had no plan for dealing with humans. It was studying the human body as it went, making random changes and seeing what happened. It had no single plan for us, and so each victim ended up with many different genetic codes in his or her cells. What if we made a super-splicer that worked according to a single plan, transforming every cell in the body to conform with a single new pattern? In that case, our studies of the descolada assure us that the change could be effected in each individual person within six hours, usually-half a day at the most.”

“Fast enough that before the body can reject itself–”

“It will be so perfectly unified that it will recognize the new pattern as itself.”

Wang-mu's crying had stopped. She seemed as excited now as Fei-tzu felt, and despite all her self-discipline, she could not contain it. “You can change all the godspoken? Free even the ones who are already alive?”

“If we are able to decode the descolada, then not only would we be able to remove the OCD from the godspoken, we would also be able to install all the enhancements in the common people. It would have the most effect in the children, of course– older people have already passed the growth stages where the new genes would have the most effect. But from that time on, every child born on Path would have the enhancements.”

“What then? Would the descolada disappear?”

“I'm not sure. I think we would have to build into the new gene a way for it to destroy itself when its work is done. But we would use Wang-mu's genes as a model. Not to stretch the point, Wang-mu, you would become a sort of genetic co-parent of the entire population of your world.”

She laughed. “What a wonderful joke to play on them! So proud to be chosen, and yet their cure will come from one such as me!” At once, though, her face fell and she covered her face with her hands. “How could I say such a thing. I have become as haughty and arrogant as the worst of them.”

Fei-tzu laid his hand on her shoulder. “Say nothing so harsh. Such feelings are natural. They come and go quickly. Only those who make them a way of life are to be condemned for them.” He turned back to Ela. “There are ethical problems here.”

“I know. And I think those problems should be addressed now, even though it may never be possible even to do this. We're talking about the genetic alteration of an entire population. It was an atrocity when Congress secretly did it to Path without the consent or knowledge of the population. Can we undo an atrocity by following the same path?”

“More than that,” said Han Fei-tzu. “Our entire social system here is based on the godspoken. Most people will interpret such a transformation as a plague from the gods, punishing us. If it became known that we were the source, we would be killed. It's possible, though, that when it becomes known that the godspoken have lost the voice of the gods– the OCD– the people will turn on them and kill them. How will freeing them from the OCD have helped them then, if they're dead?”

“We've discussed this,” said Ela. “And we have no idea what's the right thing to do. For now the question is moot because we haven't decoded the descolada and may never be able to. But if we develop the capability, we believe that the choice of whether to use it should be yours.”

“The people of Path?”

“No,” said Ela. “The first choices are yours, Han Fei-tzu, Si Wang-mu, and Han Qing-jao. Only you know of what has been done to you, and even though your daughter doesn't believe it, she does fairly represent the viewpoint of the believers and the godspoken of Path. If we get the capability, put the question to her. Put the question to yourselves. Is there some plan, some way to bring this transformation to Path, that would not be destructive? And if it can be done, should it be done? No– say nothing now, decide nothing now. Think about it yourselves. We are not part of this. We will only inform you when or whether we learn how to do it. From there it will be up to you.”

Ela's face disappeared.

Jane lingered a moment longer. “Worth waking up for?” she asked.

“Yes!” cried Wang-mu.

“Kind of nice to discover that you're a lot more than you ever thought you were, isn't it?” said Jane.

“Oh, yes,” said Wang-mu.

“Now go back to sleep, Wang-mu. And you, Master Han– your fatigue is showing very clearly. You're useless to us if you lose your health. As Andrew has told me, over and over– we must do all we can do without destroying our ability to keep doing it.”

Then she was gone, too.

Wang-mu immediately began to weep again. Han Fei-tzu slid over and sat beside her on the floor, cradled her head against his shoulder, and rocked gently back and forth. “Hush, my daughter, my sweet one, in your heart you already knew who you were, and so did I, so did I. Truly your name was wisely given. If they perform their miracles on Lusitania, you will be the Royal Mother of all the world.”

“Master Han,” she whispered. “I'm crying also for Qing-jao. I have been given more than I ever hoped for. But who will she be, if the voice of the gods is taken from her?”