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Jurassic Park: X-Factor (Chapter Six -- The X-Factor)
By drucifer67
Alan Grant awoke to the sound of his name being called. He came awake slowly, gradually piecing together the events of the previous night. The storm, in all its fury, had kept the ship’s crew and passengers busy until the wee hours of the morning, when it had finally chosen to turn east, toward Mexico, leaving them with dismal rather than deadly weather. He had collapsed on his bunk, exhausted, at just past 3 a.m., and could remember nothing from that point until now.
He crossed the room and opened the door, then stood squinting at the figure in the doorway. His eyes refused to cooperate; he felt he had hardly slept. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Not quite 7:30,” the man in the door answered. Grant blinked his eyes and the figure swam into focus: it was the ship’s captain.
“Captain?” Grant began quizzically.
“Dr. Grant, I’m sorry to disturb you. I know no one got much sleep last night, because of the storm, but Lieutenant Colonel Wallace instructed me that you were in charge of this expedition, and that I was to report anything noteworthy to you.”
“Lieuten—Wallace is a Lieutenant Colonel?”
“United States Air Force, retired.”
Grant nodded. He stood and followed the captain down the corridor. With the seas calm again, it was a quick trip to the open amidships deck of the boat, where the SUVs had been lashed.
Except that only one of the SUVs was there, and it was turned on its side.
“Oh, God,” Grant muttered.
“That tropical storm upgraded to a hurricane before it went on its way. I’d say we’re lucky not to be swimming right now. This, I understand, doesn’t seem so lucky.”
“Not exactly,” Grant agreed.
“One of my crew saw it happen,” the captain went on. “The way he described it, all but one of the moorings broke loose on the second car, and it slid back and forth across the deck for nearly an hour before the last line snapped and it went to the bottom of the Pacific. While it was sliding, it did that.” He pointed at the remaining SUV, indicating the superficial damage done to the reinforced cage surrounding the passenger compartment.
“The damage really doesn’t look so bad,” Grant suggested.
The captain agreed. “Especially when you consider that the other unit struck it repeatedly. I’d say it’s hardly the worse for wear.”
“You think it will still be serviceable?”
“I’d be willing to bet on it,” the captain said emphatically. “After breakfast, I’ll have a couple of my men come down here and help you and your people roll it over. We’ll get it lashed back down.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Grant said sincerely.
When Grant returned to his cabin, his satellite phone was ringing. He swore under his breath—he had intended to keep it with him—and sprinted to answer it.
“Dr. Grant, Dr. Malcolm. How’s the trip?”
“Funny you should ask. We rode out a hurricane last night, and lost one of our SUVs.”
“Lost it?”
“Over the side. I guess we should count ourselves lucky to be alive. What’s happening there?”
“I’m sitting here, ah, having a wonderful conversation with Dr. Henry Wu, you may remember him from, ah, from our weekend with John in Jurassic Park?”
“I remember Dr. Wu.”
“Well,” Ian went on, “we’ve just been sitting here, ah, drinking the most amazing tea, and, ah…well, I wanted you on conference call when we opened up the subject of the X Factor.”
“So there’s something to it after all?”
“It would seem,” Ian answered. “We’ll both know in a minute. Dr. Wu has decided he is going to be gracious enough to tell all, even though the ah, the government would rather he didn’t.”
“Interesting. I’m all ears, Ian.”
There was an audible click, and the received signal got a bit louder. “There we are, ah, Dr. Grant. The gang’s all here.”
“Good morning, Dr. Wu,” Grant said. “Thank you so much for agreeing to speak with us.”
“Good Morning, Dr. Grant,” Wu answered. “Dr. Malcolm assures me that this is a life-or-death situation.”
“It certainly is,” Grant agreed. “Now, I have no idea what this X-Factor business is about, but if it’s nearly as grave as it sounds—“
“Probably not,” Henry offered. “But I feel I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t at least fill you in on what may be happening out there.”
“What is it that may be happening?”
“I should start from the beginning, I think,” Henry answered. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then went on. “I’m sure you gentlemen both recall that on the Jurassic Park information tour, the film mentioned that we used amphibian DNA to fill in the gene sequence gaps, in order to get our dinosaurs off the ground.”
“Of course,” Grant answered.
“Well…we did a lot more.
“The first group of animals—we called them the A Team—consisted of a brachiosaur, stegosaurus, velociraptor, and triceratops. The fertilization process went perfectly, and we anxiously awaited their hatching. But we were gravely disappointed.
“Within forty-eight hours of the first egg’s opening, all four species were dead. We determined that the animals had died because of the things we take for granted—atmospheric conditions, certain bacterium, things that are normal to us here and now which were in no way a part of their world, when they existed in prehistory.
“We thought this spelled doom for the entire project, but a junior scientist on the team came up with an idea, and we raced to implement it. Several years earlier, a French geneticist had experimented with a replacement gene he hoped would cure dysfunction of the immune system. The gene was engineered to boost the metabolism of the host, augmenting immunity and setting in motion a sort of same-generation adaptation. While its effects were limited, the first rounds of testing were successful. Laboratory animals born to immune-deficient parents were injected with the engineered gene—and developed their own immune system. An immune system so well-reinforced, in fact, that second-stage testing, which included the introduction of everything from influenza to malignant cancer cells, proved the gene’s ability to augment the host body.
“But the engineered gene proved to be a failure when the second generation was born. The gene had so upset the balance of the DNA sequence that the host animals gave birth to mutants—lab rats were born with no legs, six legs, two heads, cyclops eyes, a whole host of obvious genetic mishaps.
“The remaining Supergenes were destroyed, as were the test animals. But the Frenchman’s notes were not. InGen paid dearly for the recipe for the Supergene. We knew that we could use it to help the animals of Jurassic Park survive in the completely foreign world they were entering, because the effects on first-generation animals were all positive. And we intentionally engineered the dinosaurs for population control, so there would be no second generation, and therefore no risk of mutations.
“Group B consisted of the same four animals as the A-Team, plus ankylosaur. They all grew normally and thrived—and Hammond promoted the junior scientist and gave us all a little bonus with our next paycheck.”
“So the animals of Isla Sorna are all mutations,” Grant said, still soaking everything in.
“By dictionary definition, yes. But it’s very likely that the mutations may have been so mild as to go unnoticed. That’s why no one who’s been to the island has reported a two-headed T-Rex.”
“In cases of extreme naturally-occurring mutation,” Grant said thoughtfully, “the genetically flawed animal is often born unable to reproduce. Isn’t it possible—“
“It’s most likely that the animals on Isla Sorna are on their way to re-extinction,” Wu cut in. “In fact, I’d be willing to stake my reputation on the very real possibility that they only have two generations left, three or four at the most.”
“No, no, no, no, no, Henry, Henry, Henry, now, you see, you see, there you go again, you’re doing it again…you people presumed to know what these animals would or would not do, ah, in the circumstances under which you created them. You were confident that the dinosaurs would not breed, because they were all female, but you see, you found out you were wrong, and I’m willing to bet, ah, that you’re going to find you’re wrong again, because, any species, near extinction, will attempt to thrive, attempt to adapt. Life adapts. So those damaged genes, ah, they’ll kill off one or two species, perhaps, but you must realize also that in a bid for survival, the dinos’ bodies will make some decisions about what to keep and what to throw away. The dinosaurs will, ah, will decide who stays and who goes. And in time I think you’ll see that the gene that gives a hadrosaur encephalitis will end up getting lost from parent to child, but the, ah, the gene that makes a fifth-generation raptor smart enough to program a VCR -- well, that will stay. We simply can’t assume that the animals will be rendered sterile by faulty genes.”
Grant had waited patiently for Ian’s rant to wind down, and now he had a question for Dr. Wu also: “What sort of mutation can we expect to see?”
“Some of it will naturally be horrible disfigurement, failing anatomical systems, things of that nature. I can put together some projections from a computer model, and have some educated guesses by this time tomorrow. But in some cases the gene will do what it was designed to do and give the animal more than its share of survival potential.”
“Increased adaptability?” Grant wondered.
“It’s certainly possible,” Wu admitted.
“Increased intelligence?”
“Again, possible.”
“From the sound of things,” Grant lamented, “with this gene, pretty much anything is possible.”
“Dr. Grant, from what Dr. Wu has told us here, this gene could very possibly speed up the evolutionary process from, from eons, centuries, decades, to, to a few short years, perhaps even months.”
“Those dinosaurs,” Grant postulated, “could be taking quantum evolutionary leaps every generation. You were right, all those years ago, Ian. Life finds a way.”
“In this case,” Malcolm replied, “Life…found a shortcut.”
1/10/2003 2:24:56 AM
(Updated: 1/15/2003 12:59:02 PM)
(Updated: 1/15/2003 3:46:00 PM)
(Updated: 2/11/2003 3:13:02 AM)
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