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| Systolina with an embroid. Image generated by Leonardo. |
Chapter 7: The Gene Hunters
Scene 1: Extraction and Obsession
University of California, Los Angeles, December 10, 2041 (11:47 PM)
Brak's apartment was a disaster. Pizza boxes stacked on the kitchen counter. Coffee cups forming rings on every flat surface. His laptop glowing in the darkness, displaying research papers he'd been reading for sixteen hours straight.
He couldn't stop thinking about the brain activity data Tyhry had shown him. Those impossible synchronization patterns. The simultaneous activation of neural networks that shouldn't activate together during sleep. It haunted him.
On his bed lay the shirt he'd been wearing during the crash. He'd told the hospital staff he wanted to keep it. They'd assumed grief. They were partly right.
But now, under the harsh LED light of his desk lamp, Brak examined the brown stains on the fabric with clinical detachment. Tyhry's blood. Dried, but still containing intact cells. Containing DNA.
He pulled on latex gloves and used sterile scissors to cut a two-inch square of fabric from the shirt's collar where the staining was heaviest. He placed the sample in a specimen bag, sealed it, and labeled it with careful handwriting: "T.W. 12/9/41."
His phone buzzed. A text from Marda: How are you doing?
He ignored it. His sister meant well, but she didn't understand. She was absorbed in her new life at Casanay, collaborating with Eddy Watson on their novel, playing house with the family that had lost their daughter. Marda had found her place. Brak had lost his.
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
He opened his laptop and composed an email to Dr. Sarah Chen at the UCLA Genomics Core Facility:
Dr. Chen,
I need a complete genome sequence, highest resolution available. Sample is human blood on fabric substrate. Timeline: as fast as possible. Budget: I'll cover costs personally if needed.
The sample is from a deceased colleague whose brain exhibited unusual neural architecture. I'm investigating possible genetic underpinnings of her cognitive phenotype for my dissertation.
—Brak Onway
He attached the digital chain-of-custody form, hit send, and sat back.
Tomorrow he'd deliver the sample. Within a week—two at most—he'd have Tyhry's complete genome sequence. And then he'd understand what made her brain different. What allowed her to experience those extraordinary dream states. What made her believe she could receive information from the future.
Brak pulled up the brain scan data files that Tyhry had shown him, stored on his laptop. He'd taken screenshots before the skiing trip, unable to resist documenting the anomalies. He studied them now with obsessive focus.
The default mode network—active during rest and self-referential thought—and the task-positive network—active during goal-directed cognition—were supposed to be anticorrelated. When one activated, the other quieted. That was fundamental neuroscience.
But in Tyhry's sleep recordings, both networks blazed simultaneously. As if her brain had achieved a state that shouldn't be possible. A kind of conscious awareness during sleep that exceeded even the most advanced lucid dreaming practitioners.
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| Image generated by Grok. |
His phone buzzed again. Marda: Brak, please answer. I'm worried about you.
He typed back: I'm fine. Need time to process. Working on my dissertation. Tell the Watsons I'll visit soon—I need to retrieve my luggage and some of Tyhry's research data. Will let them know when.
He hit send before he could reconsider.
Then he opened a new document and began drafting his letter to the Watsons. It needed to sound grief-stricken but professional. Emotional but scientifically motivated. He had to make them want to help him.
Dear Eddy and Zeta,
I hope this letter finds you managing as well as can be expected during this terrible time. I want you to know that not a day goes by when I don't think about Tyhry and the future we should have had together.
I'm writing because I need some time before I can return to Casanay. Being in that house without her is more painful than I can express. But I will return—I need to, both for closure and for my research.
When I do visit, I'd like to retrieve my luggage and personal items that I left in the guest room. I'd also like to request copies of the brain activity data Tyhry showed me before the accident. She mentioned her unusual lucid dreaming patterns, and I believe understanding her cognitive architecture might be useful for my dissertation on sleep neurophysiology.
If you could keep my belongings at Casanay until I'm ready to return, I would be grateful. I'll contact you when I feel able to make the trip.
With deepest sympathy, Brak
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
The reply came within an hour:
Brak,
Take all the time you need. Your things will be here waiting. And yes, you're welcome to Tyhry's research data. She would have wanted her work to continue contributing to science.
—Eddy
Brak closed his laptop and stared at the ceiling. He should sleep. He had a meeting with his dissertation committee in the morning. But sleep felt like surrender. Like admitting that Tyhry was really gone.
Instead, he made more coffee and returned to the brain scans, searching for patterns, for answers, for anything that would make sense of the impossible data he'd been shown.
He would find the truth. Whatever it took.
Scene 2: The Discovery
UCLA Genomics Core Facility, December 18, 2041 (2:17 PM)
Dr. Sarah Chen frowned at her computer screen, then looked up at Brak sitting across from her desk. "These results are... unusual."
"Unusual how?" Brak leaned forward, his exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes.
"Your sample quality was excellent considering the substrate. We got a complete high-resolution sequence." She turned the monitor toward him. "But there are several regions that caught my attention. Particularly in the NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB genes."
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
"These genes are involved in cortical development and neuronal specification. They're part of what makes human brains human—they appeared relatively recently in evolution and are associated with cortical expansion." Chen pulled up a detailed view. "Your subject has variants I've never seen before. Both genes show novel alleles that don't appear in any reference database."
"Could they be sequencing errors?"
"We ran the sample three times with different protocols. The results are consistent." She highlighted sections of the genome. "The NBPF14 variant shows a unique duplication pattern. And the NOTCH2NLB gene has a novel regulatory region that would likely alter expression timing during development."
Brak stared at the screen, his mind racing. "Would these variants affect brain structure?"
"Almost certainly. NOTCH2NL genes regulate the balance between neural progenitor proliferation and differentiation. A variant like this could lead to altered cortical architecture—possibly thicker cortex in specific regions, unusual connectivity patterns, differential hemispheric development..." Chen paused. "May I ask what phenotype your subject exhibited?"
"Unusual neural synchronization patterns during sleep. Capacity for extremely vivid lucid dreaming. She claimed to have... visions of future events."
Chen raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a claim."
"I documented her brain activity. The patterns were unlike anything in the literature." Brak pulled out his tablet, showing her the screenshots. "Look at this—simultaneous activation of anticorrelated networks."
Chen studied the images, her expression shifting from skepticism to fascination. "That's remarkable. If these genetic variants are causally related to this phenotype..." She trailed off, thinking. "You should search the literature. Maybe someone else has characterized these variants."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"Try searching for papers on NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants associated with brain development or sleep physiology. Use the specific variant sequences as search terms."
Brak spent the next thirty minutes running searches while Chen worked on other projects. Most results were dead ends—standard population genetics papers, unrelated mutations, evolutionary studies.
Then he found it.
A paper published just eight months ago in Developmental Neurobiology: "Novel NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB Variants Produce Aberrant Cortical Architecture in Human Brain Embroids" by Systolina Kayto.
Brak's hands shook as he opened the PDF. The abstract described exactly the gene variants he'd just found in Tyhry's genome. The paper reported experiments using brain embroids—advanced organoid cultures with artificial blood supply—to study how these variants affected neural development.
The results section showed altered cortical layering, unusual dendrite morphology, and enhanced synchronization between different brain regions when the embroids were stimulated.
But what made Brak's breath catch was the acknowledgments section: "The author thanks her father, Thomas Kayto, for providing the DNA samples containing these variants. This research was privately funded due to ethical restrictions on government support for human embroid research."
Brak looked up at Dr. Chen. "The author has these same variants. She used her own father's DNA."
"That's ethically questionable but not unprecedented for self-experimentation," Chen said.
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
"The same visions of the future?" Chen's tone was carefully neutral.
"The same unusual brain activity patterns," Brak corrected, though his mind was racing ahead. Two people with identical rare genetic variants. Two people capable of experiencing impossible neural states. This wasn't coincidence. This was a replicable phenomenon.
This was science.
He composed an email on his laptop:
Dr. Kayto,
I read your recent paper on NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants with great interest. I'm a PhD candidate at UCLA studying sleep neurophysiology, and I've just sequenced the genome of a deceased colleague who possessed the exact same variants you described.
My colleague exhibited remarkable brain activity patterns during lucid dreaming—simultaneous activation of typically anticorrelated neural networks. I'm wondering if you've experienced similar cognitive phenomena.
I'd very much like to discuss your research and potentially collaborate. Would you be available for a video call?
Best regards, Brak Onway PhD Candidate, Department of Neuroscience, UCLA
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
The reply came within two hours:
Brak,
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
I've had dream visions my entire life. I see fragments of possible futures. I've learned to recognize when the visions are accurate versus when they're just noise. And I've seen you in my dreams for years.
I knew someone would discover my gene variants. I knew you'd be the one.
Can you video call tonight at 8 PM Pacific? I have so much to tell you.
—Systolina
Brak stared at the email, reading it three times. She'd been expecting him. She'd seen him in her dreams.
Just like Tyhry had claimed to see the future in her dreams.
His rational mind rebelled against the implications, but the scientist in him recognized the pattern. Two individuals, same rare genetic variants, same impossible cognitive abilities.
He needed to understand this. He needed to know if Systolina Kayto held the key to understanding what Tyhry had been.
At 8 PM Pacific time, Brak would get his answers.
Scene 3: Soul Mate Recognition
Video Call, December 18, 2041 (8:03 PM)
The video call connected, and Brak found himself looking at a young woman with dark eyes and long black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore a faded ASU sweatshirt and sat in what appeared to be a home office, shelves of biology textbooks visible behind her.
"Brak," she said, and her smile was immediate, warm, certain. "I recognize you. You look exactly like you do in my dreams."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"Fragments. Possibilities. It's not like watching a movie—it's more like receiving compressed information packages during REM sleep. My conscious mind interprets them as visual sequences, but the actual data is more abstract." She leaned closer to her camera. "And for years, I've been seeing a man with your face. I knew you were important. I knew you'd arrive in my life at the right moment."
"That's..." Brak struggled for words. "That's not scientifically possible."
"Neither is simultaneous activation of the default mode network and task-positive network, but your colleague achieved it." Systolina's expression was sympathetic. "I know what you're going through. The cognitive dissonance between what you've observed and what your training tells you is possible. I've lived with it my entire life."
"Your paper said you used your father's DNA. Does he have these abilities too?"
"My father has a different manifestation. He has what he calls 'special insights' into people he loves. He developed a telepathic connection with my mother—could sense her emotions, sometimes her surface thoughts. After she died when I was seven, he turned that connection to me. He knows when I'm lying, when I'm scared, when I need help. He's never tested it formally, but it's real."
"Telepathy." Brak heard how skeptical he sounded.
"I know how it sounds. But my father has the NOTCH2NLB variant—I inherited it from him. I got the NBPF14 variant from my mother. The combination of both variants seems to produce the strongest effects." She pulled up a document on her screen. "I've been mapping my own brain structure using fMRI and tractography. Want to see something amazing?"
She shared her screen. Brak found himself looking at brain imaging data that closely resembled what Tyhry had shown him. Unusual cortical thickness in the posterior parietal regions. Enhanced connectivity between the temporal lobes and prefrontal cortex. Symmetric but distinct patterns in left and right hemispheres.
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
"Similar, yes. Maybe not identical, but... remarkably close." Brak pulled up Tyhry's data on his own screen. "Look at this."
They spent the next hour comparing data, discussing methodologies, sharing observations. Systolina described her embroid experiments, how the variant genes altered neural development in predictable ways. Brak described Tyhry's lucid dreaming training, her claims about a dream entity she called Sedruth, her conviction that she could receive information from her future self.
"Sedruth," Systolina repeated. "That's interesting. I've never named the source of my visions, but I've always felt like there was... something curating the information I receive. Deciding what to show me and when."
"You're saying there's an intelligence behind it?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's just my subconscious mind organizing the data. Or maybe..." She hesitated. "Have you read Eddy Watson's novels?"
Brak blinked at the sudden topic shift. "Tyhry's father? No, I haven't. Why?"
"He writes about alien intelligences watching over human development. Guiding evolution. Intervening in subtle ways." Systolina's expression was thoughtful. "What if these gene variants didn't arise naturally? What if they were engineered?"
"That's conspiracy theory territory."
"So was the idea of receiving information from the future until you documented it in brain scans." Systolina smiled. "I'm not saying I believe it. I'm saying we should consider all possibilities. Including the ones that sound crazy."
Brak found himself smiling back. There was something about Systolina's directness, her willingness to engage with the impossible, that reminded him of Tyhry. But where Tyhry had been secretive and cautious, Systolina was open, almost eager to share her experiences.
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
"I was hoping you'd ask. When can you come to Arizona?"
"After the holidays? Early January?"
"Perfect." Her smile widened. "Brak, I know this is going to sound strange, but... I feel like I've known you for years. Like we're meant to work together on this."
"Soul mates?" The word came out more skeptical than he intended.
But Systolina didn't seem offended. "Maybe. Or maybe just two people with compatible cognitive architectures who were always going to find each other. Does the mechanism really matter if the outcome is the same?"
Brak thought about Tyhry, about the love they'd shared, about the future they'd lost. Then he looked at Systolina's face on his screen—open, intelligent, certain of her purpose.
"No," he said quietly. "Maybe the mechanism doesn't matter."
They talked for another two hours, planning experiments, discussing theories, building the foundation of a collaboration that felt both brand new and somehow inevitable.
When they finally ended the call, Brak sat in the darkness of his apartment, thinking about gene variants and dream visions and the possibility that Tyhry's death might not be the end of his journey into the mysteries of human consciousness.
It might just be the beginning.
Scene 4: Meeting Thomas
Arizona State University, Tempe, Arizona, December 27, 2041 (10:15 AM)
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| Image generated by Grok. |
Systolina looked up from her work as he entered, her smile immediate and genuine. "You came."
"I said I would."
"People say a lot of things." She set down her pipette and crossed to him. For a moment they stood there, the air between them charged with something neither could quite name. Then Systolina hugged him, briefly but warmly. "Welcome to my lab. Want the tour?"
For the next hour, she showed him her embroid cultures—tiny brain-like structures floating in nutrient medium, supported by artificial blood vessel networks. She demonstrated her electrophysiology setup, showed him months of data documenting how the NBPF14/NOTCH2NLB variants altered neural development.
"This is remarkable work," Brak said, genuinely impressed. "Why isn't this government-funded?"
"Ethics committees won't approve research on human brain embroids past a certain developmental stage. They argue it's too close to creating conscious tissue in a lab." She shrugged. "My father funds everything. He made his money in biotech patents. Once I explained that I wanted to understand my own brain, he became my primary investor."
"I'd like to meet him."
"He's waiting for us. I told him you'd want to talk." Systolina pulled out her phone. "Dad? Can you come to the lab?"
Fifteen minutes later, Thomas Kayto entered. He was in his early fifties, with the same dark eyes as his daughter and an air of quiet intensity. He shook Brak's hand firmly.
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
"Just one case so far," Brak said carefully. "But yes—my colleague Tyhry Watson had the exact same NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants that your daughter has been studying."
"Had?" Thomas picked up on the past tense.
"She died in a car accident three weeks ago."
Thomas's expression softened with genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry. That must be difficult."
"It is. But understanding what made her unique—understanding these genetic variants and their effects—that feels important. Like honoring her memory."
Thomas nodded slowly, then glanced at his daughter. "Should I tell him?"
"About your telepathy?" Systolina smiled. "I already did. On our first call."
"You did?" Thomas looked simultaneously relieved and nervous. "Well, that saves an awkward conversation. Yes, Mr. Onway, I have what I can only describe as telepathic abilities, though they're limited to people I love deeply. I could sense my wife's emotions, sometimes her thoughts. Now I can sense Systolina's."
Brak studied the older man. "You mentioned you participated in a psychology experiment in college? Testing for psychic abilities?"
Thomas laughed ruefully. "I failed spectacularly. Could demonstrate nothing with strangers in a lab setting. For years I thought I was delusional, that my 'insights' were just good intuition. But after Systolina sequenced our genomes and we started correlating my experiences with her visions of the future... it became harder to deny that something real was happening."
"How does it work? The telepathy?"
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
Brak felt something shift in his chest. He thought about Tyhry's final moments, about not being able to reach her after the crash. "I wish I'd had that gift. With Tyhry."
"Perhaps you did, in your own way," Thomas said gently. "Love is a kind of telepathy even without special genetics. You knew her mind, her dreams, her fears. That connection doesn't end just because the physical body does."
Systolina touched Brak's arm. "Dad's funding my research because we want to understand these abilities. Document them scientifically. Maybe eventually help other people who have these variants—assuming there are others out there."
"There might be more than we think," Brak said. "These variants had to come from somewhere. Were your parents' genomes unusual? Any family history of psychic phenomena?"
Thomas shook his head. "Not that I know of. My parents were ordinary people. My mother never mentioned anything unusual, and she died when I was twenty. My father is still alive but shows no signs of telepathy. It's as if the variant appeared spontaneously in my generation."
"And your wife's family?" Brak asked Systolina.
"My mother's family history is sparse. She was adopted, never knew her biological parents." Systolina pulled up a file on her computer. "I've tried tracing the genetic lineages, but the trail goes cold quickly. It's almost as if these variants appeared recently in the human population."
"Recent mutations?" Brak suggested.
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"Genetic engineering," Brak said. "You mentioned that on our call. The conspiracy theory angle."
"It's not as crazy as it sounds," Thomas interjected. "Systolina showed me Eddy Watson's novels—the Usas Series. He describes alien intelligences that have been guiding human evolution for millions of years. Subtly altering our genetics to enhance certain cognitive abilities."
"That's fiction," Brak said.
"Is it?" Thomas's expression was thoughtful. "Watson's novels predicted the discovery of the Denisovans years before archaeologists found evidence. His descriptions of Neanderthal culture have been confirmed by subsequent research. Either he's remarkably lucky, or he has access to information he shouldn't have."
Brak felt uncomfortable with where this was heading. "You're suggesting aliens gave you telepathy and your daughter the ability to see the future?"
"I'm suggesting we keep an open mind about the origins of these variants," Thomas said. "And I'm suggesting that if you want to investigate further, you should visit the Watson family. Tyhry's mother Zeta might have useful information—if these variants run in families, there might be a genetic connection we haven't discovered yet."
Systolina pulled up her calendar. "I'm free next week. We could drive to Casanay—it's only a few hours from here. Brak, you said you needed to retrieve your belongings anyway. We could collect brain activity data from me using Tyhry's equipment, get DNA samples from her parents, and see if there are any genetic connections."
"You want to drive to Casanay with me?" Brak asked.
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
Brak thought about Eddy and Zeta, about returning to the place where he'd last seen Tyhry alive. It would be painful. But if Systolina's presence made it easier—if having a scientific purpose gave structure to the visit—maybe he could handle it.
"Alright," he said. "Let's plan for January 5th. I'll email the Watsons tonight."
Thomas clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, Mr. Onway. I have a feeling this investigation is going to take you places you never expected to go."
Standing there in Systolina's lab, surrounded by brain embroids and genetic data, Brak could only nod. He had no idea how right Thomas was.
Scene 5: Return to Casanay
Casanay, Arizona, January 5, 2042 (2:47 PM)
The rental car crunched up the gravel driveway. Brak felt his chest tighten as Casanay came into view—the same sprawling desert home he'd left three weeks ago, though it felt like a lifetime.
Beside him, Systolina leaned forward, staring. "It's exactly like my dreams. The windows, the way the house sits in the landscape, even the garden domes."
"You really saw this place before?"
"Fragments. Never the whole picture, but enough to recognize it." She touched his hand. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
Brak got out slowly. Eddy crossed to him, and for a moment they just stood there, two men who'd both loved Tyhry, both lost her.
"It's good to see you," Eddy said finally, pulling Brak into an embrace.
"You too." Brak stepped back. "This is Dr. Systolina Kayto. She's a neurobiology researcher at ASU. We're collaborating on understanding Tyhry's unusual brain activity patterns."
Systolina shook Eddy's hand, then Marda's. "Thank you for allowing us to visit. I know this must be difficult."
"Come inside," Marda said. "Zeta's in the kitchen with Anthony. They've been preparing for your arrival."
The interior of Casanay was achingly familiar. The same high ceilings, the same massive fireplace, the same portrait of young Tyhry that Brak had admired on his first visit. But now there was an emptiness to the house, a sense of absence that made his throat tighten.
Zeta emerged from the kitchen, moving with her characteristic grace. She looked different somehow—not aged, but changed in a way Brak couldn't quite identify.
"Brak." She embraced him warmly. "I'm so glad you came back."
"Thank you for keeping my things. And for agreeing to help with the research." He gestured to Systolina. "This is Dr. Systolina Kayto."
Zeta's eyes locked on Systolina with sudden intensity. "Kayto. Your father is Thomas Kayto?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"No, but Brak mentioned in his email that your father has telepathic abilities." Zeta's smile was mysterious. "That's fascinating. I'd very much like to discuss that with him."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
Anthony appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee and cookies. "Welcome back, Brak. And welcome to Casanay, Dr. Kayto."
They settled in the great room, the conversation flowing with careful politeness as they discussed the drive, the weather, the upcoming semester. But Brak could feel the undercurrents—Zeta's unusual interest in Thomas's telepathy, Marda's nervous energy, Eddy's watchful silence.
Finally, Brak cleared his throat. "I know this is difficult, but I need to be direct about why we're here. I have three requests, and I understand if you want to say no to any of them."
"Go ahead," Eddy said.
"First, I'd like copies of all the brain activity data Tyhry collected on herself. Her lucid dreaming recordings, the EEG and fMRI data she showed me." Brak pulled out his tablet. "I've sequenced Tyhry's genome from a blood sample. She had extremely rare genetic variants—NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB alleles that appear in no reference database. Systolina has the same variants, and we're trying to understand how they affect brain structure and function."
Zeta leaned forward. "You sequenced Tyhry's genome?"
"From blood on clothing I was wearing during the accident. I hope that's not... I hope you don't find that disturbing."
"No," Zeta said slowly. "It's actually quite brilliant. You're saying Tyhry had unique genetic variants related to brain development?"
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
"That's reasonable," Eddy said. "The equipment is still there. Mostly untouched."
"Third request." Brak paused. "I'd like DNA samples from both of you. Saliva swabs would be sufficient. I want to see if there are any genetic connections between Tyhry's variants and your genomes—whether she inherited these alleles from one or both of you, or if they appeared de novo."
Zeta and Eddy exchanged a look. Something passed between them, some unspoken communication that made Brak's scientist instincts tingle.
"We'll provide samples," Zeta said. "But on one condition."
"What condition?"
"Whatever you discover—about the genetic variants, about telepathy, about seeing the future—you keep it confidential. Just the people in this room." Zeta's expression was serious. "These aren't abilities that the world is ready to understand. If word got out that people could read minds or perceive future events, it would cause panic. Exploitation. Persecution."
Brak nodded slowly. "I understand. We're not planning to publish until we have a complete understanding of the mechanisms. This is exploratory research."
"Good." Zeta smiled. "Then you have our full cooperation."
Marda spoke up. "Can I ask something? This telepathy thing—Thomas Kayto can read his daughter's mind?"
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
Marda's eyes lit up. "That's fascinating. I'm working on a novel with Eddy right now—a continuation of his 'Volunteer' story about alien devices in human brains. But I've been thinking about writing something about human telepathy. Natural telepathy, not alien technology. Would you mind if I interviewed you about your father's abilities? For research purposes?"
"I don't mind," Systolina said. "Though you should probably interview him directly."
"I'd love that." Marda was already pulling out her phone to take notes. "This could add a whole new dimension to my story."
Eddy cleared his throat. "Before we get too deep into the science and the fiction, why don't Brak and Systolina get settled? Brak, your old room is ready. Systolina, we've prepared the blue room for you."
"Actually," Brak said, "would it be possible to go down to the basement first? I'd like to see Tyhry's workspace again. And we should inventory what equipment is available for our experiments."
"Of course." Eddy stood. "I'll take you down."
They descended the basement stairs—Brak, Systolina, and Eddy. The workshop looked different than Brak remembered. Cleaner, more organized, as if someone had been maintaining it carefully.
D2 emerged from the storage closet, carrying a box of old cables. "Hello, Brak. Welcome back to Casanay."
Brak stopped. "That's not Diasma."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"Can I see it? Diasma, I mean?" Brak asked. "Tyhry spent years working with that robot. I'd like to... I don't know. Pay my respects?"
Eddy's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "Diasma is in a shipping crate, powered down. I'm not sure disturbing it would be—"
"It's fine, Eddy," D2 interrupted. "Let him see. The old unit is just a machine now."
Something about D2's voice made Brak pause. There was an emotional quality to it, a depth that seemed more sophisticated than standard robot synthesis.
But Eddy was already moving toward the storage closet. "Alright. Though I warn you, it's not a pleasant sight. The damage was extensive."
Systolina touched Brak's arm. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I need to."
Eddy opened the closet, revealing a large shipping crate identical to the one Brak had helped load into his rental car weeks ago. Except this crate was sealed, locked, and covered with a fine layer of dust.
"It's really in there?" Brak asked.
"Yes." Eddy's voice was flat. "We haven't opened it since it was returned from ASU. Your friend Rylla said the neural network core was unsalvageable."
Brak nodded, accepting the explanation even as some part of his mind noted the inconsistencies. But he was too focused on the present to chase those thoughts. "Okay. Let's look at Tyhry's data instead."
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| Image by Leonardo. |
"Transfer copies would be good," Systolina said. "We'll want to analyze this with our own software."
As D2 worked, Brak wandered around the basement, taking in the details. The OMNI41 supercomputer still hummed quietly. The couch where Tyhry used to rest between experiments. The workbench where she'd shown him that impossible brain data.
His hand brushed against a drawer, and he pulled it open absently. Inside, nestled among cables and tools, was an object that looked like a modified remote control. Sleek, organic-looking, with a crystalline structure at one end that refracted light in strange colors.
"What's this?" Brak picked it up.
Eddy's voice was sharp. "Don't touch that!"
But it was too late. Brak was already examining the device, his fingers finding natural positions on its grip as if it had been designed for his hand. "It's some kind of specialized tool. Did Tyhry build this?"
D2 crossed the room quickly. "That's a calibration probe for the OMNI41. Very delicate. Please put it back."
"A calibration probe?" Brak turned it over, studying the crystalline emitter. "I've never seen anything like this. The engineering is remarkable."
He pointed it at his own head, mimicking a doctor using a medical scanner. "How does it—"
The probe activated.
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
He slumped against the workbench, the probe falling from his hand.
"Brak!" Systolina caught him as he started to slide to the floor.
The femtozoan re-established connection. Thought and language and self-awareness came flooding back. Brak gasped, his mind reeling.
"What the hell was that?" Systolina demanded.
Eddy snatched up the probe and thrust it back into the drawer, slamming it shut. "That's why I said not to touch it! The probe emits a calibration pulse that can disrupt electronic systems. It must have interfered with your nervous system."
"My nervous system?" Brak managed to stand, though his legs felt weak. "That felt like... like losing myself. Like forgetting how to think."
"Electrical disruption to the nervous system can cause transient confusion," D2 said. "Are you experiencing any lingering effects? Headache, nausea, visual disturbances?"
Brak tested his balance, his coordination. Everything seemed normal now. The disruption had lasted only seconds, but the memory of it was terrifying—a glimpse of consciousness without the femtozoan's amplification. "No, I think I'm okay. Just... startled."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"I'm fine." Brak forced a laugh. "Note to self: don't play with unknown technology in basement laboratories."
But as they continued their work—D2 transferring data files, Systolina examining the sleep recording equipment, Eddy carefully watching everything—Brak couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just experienced something significant. Something that Eddy and D2 had been desperate to prevent.
The probe wasn't a calibration tool.
It was something else entirely.
And whatever it was, the Watson family wanted to keep it secret.
Scene 6: The Telepath's Revelation
Casanay, January 5, 2042 (7:23 PM)
Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Anthony had prepared his signature blue corn enchiladas, and the conversation flowed easily among the group. Systolina charmed everyone with stories about her embroid research. Marda enthusiastically described the telepathy novel she was planning. Brak found himself relaxing, the earlier probe incident fading into the background of his mind.
But Zeta was quiet, watching Systolina with an intensity that bordered on hunger.
After dinner, as Brak and Systolina were preparing to set up the sleep recording equipment in the basement, Zeta pulled Systolina aside.
"Can we talk? Privately?"
Systolina glanced at Brak, who shrugged. "Sure."
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"Is something wrong?" Systolina asked.
"No. Something's right." Zeta sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Systolina to take the armchair. "You said your father has telepathic abilities. That he can sense your thoughts when you're close."
"Yes. Why?"
"Because I have the same ability." Zeta's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "I can sense my husband's thoughts. Not all the time, not with perfect clarity, but when we're together, I know what he's feeling, what he's thinking. I've had this ability my entire life."
Systolina leaned forward. "You're a telepath? But how—"
"I don't know how. I've never told anyone except Eddy. I was afraid people would think I was crazy, or that I'd become some kind of laboratory subject." Zeta paused. "But when Brak mentioned your father in his email, I realized I'm not alone. There are others like me."
"Have you had your genome sequenced? You might have the same NOTCH2NLB variant my father has."
"No. I've never pursued genetic testing. But now..." Zeta's expression was eager. "If I have the variant, if there's a scientific explanation for what I've been experiencing, that would change everything."
"We can test you," Systolina said. "Brak already asked for DNA samples. We could include analysis for the NOTCH2NLB variant specifically."
"Yes. Please." Zeta stood, pacing. "And there's something else. Something I need to tell you about Eddy."
"What about him?"
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
Systolina felt a chill. "You think he has abilities too? Related to the genetic variants?"
"I think this goes deeper than genetics. I think there's something happening with humans—some of us, anyway—that current science can't explain." Zeta met Systolina's eyes. "Your visions of the future. My telepathy with Eddy. Your father's telepathy with you. Eddy's access to historical information. Tyhry's impossible brain activity patterns. These aren't random occurrences. They're connected."
"But how?"
"I don't know. But I want to find out." Zeta's voice was intense. "And I want you and Brak to help us understand. Just... carefully. Secretly. Without letting the world know what we're discovering."
"Why the secrecy?"
"Because if people knew that telepathy was real, that some humans could see the future, it would create chaos. Fear. Exploitation." Zeta touched Systolina's hand. "We need to understand these abilities before we reveal them. And we need to protect the people who have them."
Systolina thought about her father, about the years he'd kept his telepathy secret out of fear of being labeled crazy. About her own reluctance to discuss her visions with colleagues. About how Tyhry had been so cautious about sharing her dream experiences.
"I understand," she said. "We'll keep it contained. Just the people at Casanay."
"And your father?"
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"Of course."
"In your telepathy with Eddy—can you control it? Turn it on and off? Or is it always there?"
"It's always there when we're physically close. Background awareness of his emotional state. But I can focus on it, try to read deeper, if I choose to. And sometimes, when his emotions are very strong, his thoughts come through clearly without me trying." Zeta smiled sadly. "When Tyhry died, I felt Eddy's grief like it was my own. I couldn't block it out."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's a gift, even when it hurts. I'd rather share Eddy's pain than leave him alone in it." Zeta stood. "Come on. Let's get you set up for the sleep recordings. I want to see if your brain activity matches Tyhry's."
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| Image generated by Leonardo. |
"Everything okay?" Brak asked.
"Perfect," Systolina said. "Zeta and I were just getting to know each other."
What she didn't add was that Zeta had just revealed herself as another member of a secret group—people with impossible abilities, hiding in plain sight, waiting for science to catch up with their reality.
And as Systolina prepared to sleep in the basement workshop, electrode cap on her head and recording equipment humming around her, she couldn't help but wonder: How many others were out there? How many people had these gene variants, these strange abilities, these connections to something larger than themselves?
And what would happen when the world finally learned the truth?
Scene 7: The Observers' Debate
Hierion Domain, Observer Base, January 6, 2042 (3:17 AM Earth time)
Nyrtia manifested in her preferred form—efficient, humanoid, clearly artificial. She stood in the pek observation chamber, reviewing data streams from Casanay. Around her, holographic displays showed brain activity recordings, genetic sequences, and behavioral analyses.
Manny appeared beside her, favoring her usual beautiful human female form with impossible golden hair. "You're up late. Or early. Time is so confusing in the Hierion Domain."
"I'm monitoring the situation at Casanay." Nyrtia gestured at the displays. "It's escalating beyond the parameters we agreed on."
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
"Eventually, yes. But under controlled conditions. With proper preparation." Nyrtia pulled up a display showing the genetic lineages. "You seeded the NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants into multiple human bloodlines decades ago. Thomas Kayto, Eddy Watson, others we haven't identified. You knew this moment would come. You engineered it."
"I provided humans with the genetic foundation for technology-assisted telepathy and enhanced connection to the Sedron Time Stream. What they do with those abilities is up to them." Manny's smile was innocent. "That's self-determination, Nyrtia. I gave them tools. They're choosing how to use them."
"That's sophistry. You knew Brak would sequence Tyhry's genome. You knew he'd find Systolina. You probably arranged for them to develop romantic feelings for each other to ensure they'd collaborate."
"I may have deployed a few infites to smooth the initial connection," Manny admitted. "But the rest is genuine human curiosity and attraction. Brak is naturally drawn to scientific mysteries. Systolina has been dreaming about her future collaborator for years. I didn't create those dynamics—I just removed obstacles."
Nyrtia's form pulsed with frustration. "And the probe incident? Brak nearly discovered the existence of femtozoans when he disrupted his own femtozoan connection. That's a direct violation of containment protocols."
"But he didn't discover them. Eddy recovered the situation beautifully. As far as Brak knows, he experienced electrical interference with his nervous system. Nothing more." Manny studied the replay of the incident. "Though I'll admit, that was closer than I'd like. We should move the hierion probe to a more secure location."
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"You can't be serious."
"I'm absolutely serious. We now have multiple humans at Casanay who know about telepathy and future-sight. They're actively researching the genetic basis of these abilities. How long before they publish? How long before the broader scientific community learns that human cognitive abilities can exceed normal parameters?" Nyrtia pulled up projections. "My simulations show a seventy-three percent chance of uncontrolled information cascade within six months if we don't intervene."
"Your simulations are overly pessimistic." Manny dismissed the projections with a wave. "Zeta, Eddy, and D2 understand the need for secrecy. They'll ensure Brak and Systolina keep quiet. And remember—Brak and Systolina don't know about the pek or bumpha. They think they're discovering natural human variants. As long as they continue to believe that, Law One is satisfied."
"Law One requires humans to believe they have self-determination. But these humans are being guided toward specific discoveries by your infites, by the dream visions you're feeding Systolina, by the genetic engineering you performed on their ancestors." Nyrtia's voice carried an edge. "At what point does guidance become control? At what point does influence become violation?"
Manny was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was serious. "Nyrtia, we've been having this same argument for billions of years. The pek want absolute non-intervention. The bumpha want active guidance. The Huaoshy created both of us because the truth lies somewhere in between."
"Philosophy doesn't answer my question."
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"Directed evolution. By alien intelligence."
"Better than extinction." Manny's eyes blazed. "You've seen the Extinction Curve. You know what happens to species that develop advanced technology without guidance. They destroy themselves. Every time. The only species that survive are the ones we help."
"Or the ones that never needed help in the first place."
"Name one. Name a single species that navigated the sedron threshold without intervention." Manny's challenge hung in the air. "You can't, because they don't exist. The Hua were unique. Every other successful species has been guided."
Nyrtia couldn't argue with the data. The historical record was clear. "What do you want from me, Manny?"
"Let the experiment continue. Keep monitoring Casanay, maintain your firewall, but let Brak and Systolina pursue their research. Let them discover the genetic basis of telepathy and future-sight. Let them document these abilities scientifically." Manny's tone became persuasive. "We need to know how humans will react to learning about their enhanced potential. This is a controlled test case. A small group in an isolated location. If it goes wrong, we can contain it. But if it goes right—if they handle the knowledge responsibly—it gives us data for rolling out similar revelations globally."
"You're asking me to trust your judgment."
"I'm asking you to trust the process. We built this entire intervention infrastructure to guide species through technological adolescence. Let it work."
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| Tyhry by WOMBO Dream. |
"I'll allow the experiment to continue," Nyrtia said finally. "But under strict conditions. Your firewall must be perfect—no information about telepathy or future-sight leaves Casanay. And Brak and Systolina must continue to believe these are natural human abilities. The moment they start suspecting alien intervention, I activate extraction protocols. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"And Manny?" Nyrtia's form solidified. "If this goes wrong, if humans learn about the pek and bumpha before they're ready, the consequences will be on you. Not just for this intervention, but for the entire human species. The Huaoshy will hold you accountable."
"I understand." Manny's smile returned. "But it won't go wrong. Trust me."
Nyrtia watched the bumpha dissolve back into the Sedron Domain, then returned her attention to the data streams from Casanay. On the displays, she could see Systolina sleeping in the basement workshop, her brain showing exactly the unusual activity patterns that Tyhry had exhibited. Brak sat nearby, monitoring the recordings, making notes, analyzing data.
In the guest room, Zeta lay awake, her telepathic connection to Eddy allowing her to sense his troubled thoughts as he worked in his office.
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| Image generated by Grok. |
The Casanay experiment was entering a new phase.
And Nyrtia could only hope that Manny's confidence was justified.
Because if it wasn't—if this small group of humans in the Arizona desert triggered a cascade that revealed the truth about alien oversight to the entire planet—it would be the biggest violation of Law One in the history of the pek.
And the consequences would reshape humanity's future forever.
END CHAPTER 7 {Claude's first draft}
Next: my edited version of Chapter 7 of "The Sims".
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