EvoS dives into the deep end of the gene pool

By KAYE SHEPHERD

Hydrogen News Network, Reporter-at-Large



Formaldehyde and deep sea brine. Walk across the observation deck in Evolution Solutions’ reconstructed laboratories and the scent hits you like a salt brick. Unfortunately, it’s the only path toward the office of the genius scientist widely heralded as the “Father of Inter-Species Hybridization” (or, as some in the industry have dubbed him, the FISH-man).



As I reach the security portal to his lab, a nearby drone flickers on and floats up above my head. Its green laser scans my bio-signature and my identification flashes up on a panel in the holographic wall nearby. KAYE SHEPHERD. “JOURNALIST.” Resurrections: 0. Nanite Level: Low. Threat: Low. Existence: Tolerated.

With a metallic hiss, the doors slide open, and I enter a large, circular office. “Welcome!” a bright, booming voice says from across the room. “You must be Kaye Shepherd.”

Even if he wasn’t half-fish, half-man, I could tell he wasn’t a traditional doctor. He greets me wearing a white lab coat with nothing underneath. The full length of his body is visible, from his dorsal fin to the long, elegant tail wrapped around one of his bionic legs. “Dr. Wade Finn,” he says, extending a webbed hand to me.

That name. I stifle my glee at actually seeing him refer to himself that way, and shake his hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Dr. Finn.” His skin is warmer than I expected, as is his general demeanor. All smiles, he is far from what you might call, a cold fish.

He smiles at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard all the jokes. They call me the ‘Eeler, after all,” he says, tapping at the red cross on his chest.

“Have you always had an affinity for fish?”

“If I didn’t have an affinity before, I certainly do now. 3 of them, in fact,” he says, wiggling his dorsal fin and flipping his tail at me, playfully. “But, yes. Always. There’s a stream of me as a child telling my entire school that when I grew up, I wanted to be a fish. They thought I was joking! Called me the class clownfish. But who’s laughing now?”

I nod as I scan through my notes. “EvoS tells me that this entire project to create a Fish-Human hybrid, codename Project Respawn, was your idea. How did this come about?”

Dr. Finn furrows his brow. “It was an upstream battle. For a while there, I was really floundering. But with the efforts of our whole team, and our enthusiastic volunteers, we dove in and got it done. It’s important to remember that this didn’t happen solely because of me. Thank the countless test subjects willing to be bitten by every kind of Reactor-ized fish we dreamt up! May they rest in peace.”

“Rest in… They all died?” I ask, incredulously.

“They knew the risks. It was their choice,” he replies, solemnly taking a swig of water from his healing ray and then shooting a quick beam of it at the floor. “We’ve built a memorial to them in our new lab!” he says, excitedly. “Our last test subject – the one closest to success – is memorialized in our centerpiece!”

“The one in the glass tank is one of the volunteers?” I pause. “Could I speak to him?”

“Oh no,” Dr. Wade replies. “He can’t survive outside of his tank. But he was the only other volunteer to survive the transformation process, so he’s quite an accomplishment. If he could speak, I’m sure he’d tell us how proud he is.”

“Could you describe the transformation process to me? Earlier, you mentioned reactor-ized fish. What does that mean?”

“There’s a legend – maybe you’ve heard it? – A woman at Omni once triggered a pulse in the Reactor that disintegrated her body. Disintegrated! A week later, she shocks people by floating out of the Reactor with all these new powers. I heard that and thought, let’s throw some fish in there and see what happens! Carp-e diem!”

“Let me get this straight. You were bitten by a Reactor-ized fish.”

“And it worked! It’s everything I dreamed of and more. I’m as happy as a clam.”

“Was Rask bitten by a Reactor-ized cat?”

Dr. Finn laughs, his whiskers bouncing off his chin as he does. “Oh no. His was a much more complex process. Not at all practical. And the waste! The Depths are still teeming with failures–” He stops and shakes his head. “Rask is just a different case.”

“What was that about the Depths?”

“Huh? I don’t recall! I have the memory of a goldfish.” he says. “It’s a side effect.”

I show him my notes and point out the last quote. “You said that the Depths are teeming with failures. I assume you’re not referring to the residents. There have been a significant number of reports about attacks in the Depths. In fact, the Freelancer, Grey…”

He shakes his hands and his head both, vigorously. “I know your story needs a good hook, but you won’t find anything fishy here.”

“Except for you.” I say, ruefully.

Dr. Finn laughs. “Yes, yes, of course.” The door slides open again and someone familiar enters the room. His hood covers his face, but his enormous sniper rifle is hard to forget. The Freelancer, Nix, leans against the side wall and observes us silently.

The doctor straightens up. “I think this interview has gone swimmingly, don’t you?” His voice is rushed and his blue cheeks have gone purple. “I’m afraid I have more work to attend to, so I’ll have to cut this meeting short.”

I glance at the sniper. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Doctor.”

With too much enthusiasm, Dr. Finn says, “And you! I do hope you come back again soon.”

“With everything going on at EvoS, I’m sure I will.”

A toothy smile spreads across his face. “Then I’ll await your return with bated breath!”

And once again, I’m escorted away from an interview before I’ve even begun. I’m starting to think it’s a trend.

Evolution Solutions, like Dr. Finn, may not care much about the stream of debris they’re leaving in their wake, but I do. They can play coy. They can make me go for the deep dive. But I’m not the only one out there angling for a story… Maybe it’s just a matter of scaling up our efforts, instead.