Taking on the Genetics Giant and Living to Tell the Tale

By KAYE SHEPHERD

Hydrogen News Network, Reporter-at-Large



It’s only been a week since an entire quadrant of laboratories (D4, Sub-Sector 2893) combusted at Evolution Solutions (EvoS) Central. Falling debris and smoke filled the air for hours. During the chaos, EvoS PR scrambled to address citizen concerns by first asserting that the blast was “a routine safety drill” before later, escalating the issue to an “incident.” This is the latest of several high-profile “incidents” in Atlas recently, from the break-ins at Omni to Warbotics’ controversial robot recall.



Stepping into the infamous gene-mod trust today, it’s clear everyone is still on high alert.

Green gremunks, the ever-present EvoS handymen and test subjects, rocket past me in jet packs. Their elastic faces are twisted portraits of mania, all glorious id (and fair share of odd too). That kind of workplace enthusiasm is hard to find, but at EvoS, it comes in vats. Scientists in exosuits trail behind them as rows of red lights flash and alarm bells ring down the glossy white corridors of Evolution Solutions.

The cleanup effort seems less contained than I’ve been told. I catch a glimpse of a pair of blast doors labeled “short-term storage” and an aquatic hybrid floating in an isolation chamber before I’m escorted away. My EvoS PR chaperone leads me into a visitor-approved labyrinth of labs. Beyond the de-evolution pits and the transplant specimen zoo lies our destination: the private enclosure of Project RASK.

I’ve been invited to interview Rask, the trust’s most prized creation and supposed ‘hero’ in the wake of the explosion. “He saved so many of our scientists! Dove through fire just to scoop them out of trouble,” said the PR rep. The idea of meeting the so-called “Rage Beast” in person fills me with dread. In all the feeds, Rask seemed unhinged and fueled by… well, rage. It was kind of his thing.

“There’s really nothing to fear, ma'am. So don’t look so afraid. He doesn’t like it.”

We stop in front of a massive, palladic glass terrarium. The whole room glows red from heat lamps hung in the rafters. Inside, tall trees crane up toward the artificial sun, and choking air holes dot the glass dome. Mist rains from the ceiling, coating wide, leafy plants in the undergrowth with dew.

Then, I see him. In the middle of the terrarium, curled up, napping in a makeshift bed of white cotton.

As we approach the glass, Rask’s brow lifts. In the same instant, he’s up, all nine feet of his hulking frame leaping toward us. Suddenly, I’m dwarfed in shadow, staring up into his hardened, plated chest. His whole body expands as he breathes, as if there isn’t enough air in the whole world to fill his lungs.

I flash through everything I’ve heard him say in the feeds – YOU CANNOT CAGE ME. RAGE FLOWS THROUGH ME. I FEAST ON PAIN! – and the blood drains out of my face.

“Hi,” I manage to squeak out.

“Would you hand me that?” he says. His voice is a husky, low growl. I look and see that he’s gesturing at an EvoS-branded Rask plushie tucked into the corner of the room. It’s right beside what looks like a factory explosion in the EvoS assembly line: there’s Rask “Power Juice”, Rask holographs – a Rask mountain of merch. Rask himself seems unimpressed by the display.

I push the plushie through one of the giant air holes around the terrarium, and in seconds, Rask’s torn it to shreds and launched it into the pile of ragged cotton fluff in the center of the enclosure.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Not too fond of those, huh?” I ask.

The PR rep answers before Rask can. “He just likes something soft to sleep in.”

“Flesh is soft,” Rask says, quietly.

“What?”

“Nothing! It’s just a joke.” The PR rep says.

The only one who laughs is Rask. He tosses his whole head back; his mouth wide and fangs gleaming in the red light.

Through a wide, pasted-on grin, the PR rep continues, “Rask, remember what we talked about?”

He growls so low that I can feel the vibrations through the floor.

I clear my throat. “I’ve heard you’re quite the hero, Rask.”

Another growl. The PR rep jumps in. “Yes! He saved all those scientists. He’s very brave. Dove right into the flames.”

“My blood burns always…” Rask says, glaring at the rep, who nods back.

I scan through my notes. “So, Rask, do you know what caused the explosion? There’s a lot of conflicting information on what happened. In fact, EvoS initially said it was a safety drill, which it clearly wasn’t.”

The PR rep jumps in, “OK, let’s stop right there–”

“Sneaky little thief,” Rask growls.

“A thief?”

“Rask, what are you talking about? He’s silly,” the PR rep interrupts.

“She smelled of smoke…and perfume. IT BOILS IN MY VEINS.”

“What was she after?”

“I think we’re done here,” the PR rep says, showing me the way towards the exit with the politest of shoves. “Say thank you, Rask!” With one hand firmly pushing the small of my back, the PR rep walks me to the edge of the enclosure. “Rask fancies himself a bit of a storyteller. He’s a romantic that way.”

From behind me, a rumbling roar echoes through the chamber. “She said, we will know soon… I WILL REVEL IN THE CHAOS.”

I turn to face Rask, but the doors of the enclosure are already closed, and all I can hear is his laugh reverberating through the walls.