Chapter 39: 038 Project Eternum

Once they began their tutelage under their respective mentors, Don and Diana fell into a pattern, something which proved to be a welcome addition to their lives. Wake up, feed and walk Mercedes together, clean themselves, go to the cafeteria for breakfast. Eat, follow the Captain, Scholar, or whoever else they assigned to tutor them for the day, and do what they were told.

At lunch they would rendezvous, walk Mercedes again, and return to their teachers rested. Training would end a few hours after this, and they would once again return to the Noah. There they would share some of what they learned with each other before once again returning to the dining hall for dinner.

They were usually exhausted enough, either mentally or physically, to just fall asleep once they got into bed, Mercedes at their feet.

Don fell into slumber immediately the first week or so, making talk before bed difficult. Luckily, a 'handsy' incident tat Diana had been so worried about only happened once, and it was her fault to boot.

After this period of his body getting used to the strain, Don could keep awake long enough for a small conversation, but they were running out of topics. There was something he wanted to know though.

"When I woke up, do you remember how you talked about how I wasn't raised by my biological family and all that?"

"I remember."

"At that time you also mentioned that I, we, are the product of some experiment or something like that. Do you think you could elaborate on it?"

"Sure. It was called Project Eternum, and it was designed to test a potential solution to the progress barrier. Before we continue, do you know what the progress barrier is?"

"I can't say I've heard of it."

"It isn't surprising considering your lifelong focus. Simply put, the progress barrier is a soft limitation to the progress that humanity as a whole can achieve. With that said, can you make a guess what factors contribute to this barrier?"

"What limits our progress? Let's see. Off the top of my head I would think a lack of things to discover would be a big one, not that I know much about the technological frontier. Another one would be lack of ability and poor management I think, but something tells me those don't necessarily apply to our situation."

"Those are both good guesses, and the second one was certainly an issue in the past. Your first one unfortunately doesn't really apply. Logically, it should be harder to make progress if there are less areas to make progress in, but this doesn't hold in practice. This is because, theoretically at least, there are an infinite number of fields where 'progress' can be made, we just haven't discovered them yet."

"So it's a classical case of infinity minus one equals infinity?"

"Pretty much."

"That makes sense. Can you tell me the other factors?"

"I planned on it. As you guessed before, mismanagement can be a big factor. Assigning talents away from their most efficient field is a waste of potential, but our governing and educational systems didn't have that issue.

The other side of that is a lack of talent. You can't manage what you don't have, but with the populations of the combined inner ring there wasn't really a distinct lack of talent in any field.

A pretty big factor is that not all of the populace cannot be mobilized for the sake of progress. At one point, before the Skinnik crisis, that may have been a possibility, but the looming threat of a hostile entity once again taking over automated systems required for the sustaining of society made the use of artificial intelligence for menial tasks an impossibility."

"ARC and I talked a bit about that. Did nobody come up with an alternative? Like making a separate system?"

"We tried, and failed. Skinnik can evolve and grow, just like ARC though admittedly not as well. If there is even the slightest twinkle of compatibility between any system it has set up and any halfway intelligent system we made, it can corrupt it in some way.

Regardless, that means that a large portion of people, human resources, are occupied in keeping the system running. Fortunately, the management of the system means that everyone is in roughly their most efficient job, so not much efficiency was lost on the whole.

Another problem that arises is that it takes time to develop the necessary equipment to get accurate readings for something new. Split, as an example, took us five years to get sensors on the level that could be used to determine a threat. My grandfather told me that, as it stands, they are just about as crude as the first generation of sonar systems."

Don was vaguely aware of the Split sensor's crudeness, but he didn't realize that it was first generation. "So it's a passive sensor not to ensure stealth, but because we don't know how to make an active one?"

"That isn't correct." ARC would clarify its capabilities. "We know exactly how to use Split pulses and the resulting feedback to make an active sensor, there was just not a reason to make it. Split didn't bounce off of the vast majority of matter, so it would be an expensive waste of space."

"Is that no longer the case?" ARC made it sound like it would be completely useless.

"That is uncertain. Until I can set up a few tests, it will remain that way."

"Anyways." Diana wanted to get back on topic. She couldn't keep up with this technical jargon. "The final limitation is the hard limit on knowledge that a singular person can accumulate over the course of their life. There are ways to increase this limit and streamline the process, longer education, earlier education, hyper concentration of less important subjects, hyper specialization towards a certain task, and reduction of distractions are all ways to increase this.

However there is an upper limit to what can be achieved this way, even those considered geniuses can only learn so fast. Even if they spent every waking moment working towards a goal, they might not have enough time to learn what is necessary to make a breakthrough."

"So the progress barrier is a function of all of those factors being raised to their maximum efficiency?"

"Correct."

"Then how do we fit in? What did they do to try and break this barrier?"

"The only thing they could do, increase the amount of time someone has."

"Increase the amount of time? How would they do that?"

"Genetic modification.

In the past, the increase in lifespan was brought about by developments in medicine, nutrition, and sanitation, but eventually we reached a point where the human body just gives out. A natural expiration date. Even before this, there are onsets of mental illnesses like schizophrenia and dementia, meaning that the point at which somebody can't contribute to progress comes far earlier than the actual date someone dies.

The only way to get around this is to artificially increase that limit."

"So we're artificial?"

"Modified." Diana was never called 'fake' or 'artificial' by those with knowledge of the project, but she hated being referred to as such. "Theoretically, we could live up to 300 years without mental or physical decay occurring, but we have absolutely no idea what the true number is."

"How are we going to age?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like, are we going to age like a normal person? Or is it going to spread out over the years? Up to know we have matured at a similar rate to a normal person right? Will that continue?"

Ah, the question of the physical appearance.

"I think we should be fine. If I'm not mistaken, aging is caused in part by decay, though biology is far from my specialty. Do you know ARC?"

"As far as appearance is concerned, the primary factors are collagen breakdown, sustained ultraviolet light exposure, and oxidation. Most of these can be remedied with operation, caution, and supplements."

"Do you remember if there were implementations in our genes to prevent those?" Diana wanted specifics.

"There should have been, though only the future will tell if they work properly. Given your current appearances, there seems to be some slight evidence they are." Some flattery from the emotional intelligence?

"So we have to wait..."

The conversation fell off for a moment after this, the only thing hindering total silence was their light breaths.

"Were there others?" Don wanted to get his questions out tonight so he could sleep on the answers.

"None that survived."

"Survived what?"

"Nobody else survived to adolescence. Of 105 specimens, we were the only two to make it past age ten."

"105!?" Don thought that they would have better chances than that.

"In reality you should be thinking of it as two out of 26. There were five potential treatments they came up with. One test embryo for each to prove the initial viability of fertilization, followed by twenty five induced pregnancies with modified embryos."

"A one in thirteen success rate is still horrible!" Don was amazed she could be so calm about this. Perhaps it was due to her having already processed this knowledge, but it violated Donovan's common sense. In his mind, if some risky, life-endangering test didn't have an estimated success rate of AT LEAST 90%, it was not worth doing. This was a hard limit enforced by the ethics council when the threat of death was present.

"I understand it was horrible Donovan. So did everybody else on that project staff. There was nothing they could do though. The field of gene therapy regressed after the Skinnik incident, and we hadn't progressed back to a level where we could get accurate estimates because the more complex equipment was deemed unusable. I was told by my own grandfather that the fact there were two of us was a miracle, they expected one at best."

"And they still went through with it?"

"They did. They were scientists. The only way that procedure could have been refined into something usable was trial and error. The only reason there wasn't a second round was because the Captain made contact. If humanity wouldn't survive the next ten years, there was no reason to plan for development over the course of the next thousand." Diana closed her eyes and pressed their foreheads together.

"What happened to the rest of them then? The rest of us?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." He felt the desire to know how he could have ended up.

You are reading story Dead Star Dockyards at novel35.com

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Diana took a deep breath.

"As far as I remember, two of the test groups never made it to birth. One of them never grew passed the first trimester, and the other was universally ejected prematurely from the mothers' wombs. In that case, I believe the test tube baby had its spinal column separate during growth, though that seemed to be a separate failure from the womb ejection.

The third group all made it to term, however they very quickly died outside the womb. The cause was presumed to be the fact that their bodies outgrew their hearts, so they wouldn't get enough blood pumped to keep them alive. There were of course anomalies, a pair of two that made it to three years of age before their hearts gave out.

Our group was a bit different, there was no discernable pattern with the way we died.

All but three made it through pregnancy, their causes of death were their internal organs not developing properly. Four died from similar complications outside the womb.

Two died from internal bleeding as toddlers.

Two had sudden strokes.

Four 'broke' mentally at a young age and slowly died from lack of movement and nutrition.

Five went blind at various stages before tumors appeared in their brains and killed them.

Two made it to the ripe old age of seven before going to sleep one day and not waking up, the exact cause uncertain.

When one caught the common cold they found out he didn't have a functional immune system, so he died without ever being able to fight it off.

The last one didn't even die from health defects. She took a tumble down a flight of stairs at nine years old and ended up splitting her head open.

Horrifying isn't it? Our fragility?"

The cabin was dark, too dark to see, but Don could feel her shaking. She was scared of it, that experiment, subdued though that fear may be. He could feel her tremble at the thought that it might not be over, they might only have been lucky up to this point.

Could they really know for sure that there was zero chance of a deformity manifesting in the future?

Don pulled her in for a tight hug. He didn't feel their relationship to be anywhere near intimate enough to kiss her on the lips yet, but he considered it. He would let her decide when to advance their relationship to that point.

For the moment, he would hold her. There wasn't much he could do to assuage her existential terror, but this couldn't hurt. Truth be told, he was a tad concerned of such an eventuality himself. Not to the point of dread or nervousness, he trusted those who planned this all out. They wouldn't pin all their hopes on a pair of people who's bodies would kill them prematurely would they?

Would they?

The tiniest morsel of a doubt remained.

It wasn't the doubt that they had purposefully taken a risk, but that they might have unwittingly missed something. Maybe Don's lack of feeling for the rest of humanity's annihilation could have been a part of that.

Something important might have been unintentionally removed from his or her biology that they couldn't have noticed because they weren't looking for it, an alteration seeming benign on the surface but with some serious ramifications down the line.

He knew for certain that was in the realm of possibility.

The question was whether or not he was better off telling her that. On the one hand, it could serve to reduce her dread of a torturous future, but on the other it might just validate her fears.

A mental breakdown wasn't exactly something they were equipped to deal with at the moment.

"I think the worst part of it all was how they planned to spread those genes."

"What? Surely it couldn't have been that bad right?"

"Probably not for me. I would have been introduced to some upstanding gentleman and 'encouraged' to have many children with him. You though, their plans for you began the instant you left the lab. I'm sure you recall the utter neglect with which you were raised right? That was all part of a plan to make you something of a womanizer. I've read the files, and the torment they planned to put you through during your pubescent years bordered on torturous.

All of it for the purpose of getting you to spread your seed as far as possible." Where before she shook in fear, she now trembled in anger. The experiments were excusable to a degree, something that had to be done and they ultimately resulted in their lives. Psychological torture was something that she couldn't sanction. "The worst part of it was that my grandfather was going to be the one in charge of it."

"They were planning on making me a scumbag in order to sleep around? Couldn't they have just asked me to sign an agreement or something like that?"

"And risk Project Eternum's existence becoming public? There wasn't a chance in hell of that. They would much rather have a single rogue psychologist take the fall for a single person's trauma and consider the matter done. We are lucky we were chosen for this hell of a life, to me it seems far better than the alternative. Although..." Don could feel her body temperature rise ever so slightly. "Although it looks like a lot of children are in our future regardless."

- - - - - 

*thunk*

"FUCK!"

*clang*

Donovan shook his hand like mad, jumping around in a little circle. Once the pain subsided (the bump would not) he moved to pick up his sword again.

"You seem to be much more distracted today than usual Donovan. I take it there's a reason for this." The Captain sheathed his own sword and gestured towards a bench that had been brought out to the deck for them, the sign to sit down.

"Yeah. Last night I learned a something a little bit more than disturbing and I haven't been able to get it off of my mind." Don took a moment to analyze his finger upon sitting down. There wasn't too much swelling, the Captain's sword only having made contact just below a knuckle, and there wasn't any signs of a break. "I'm sorry if it its detracting from our lessons."

"Don't be. Whatever it is, I assume it must be of some importance." The Captain took a seat next to him. There wasn't much of a view, but the canopy at least made sure it wasn't completely devoid of color. "If it would help you at all, you may confide in me. What issues are plaguing your mind?"

The Captain's sword was in its scabbard, the tip on the deck, while he held the handle with both hands straight up and down between his legs. It was eerily similar to how the Doctor held his cane when Don consulted and consoled with him.

"As much as I'd like to say it's nothing much, my people's attempt at playing God doesn't exactly qualify as small stuff." He reminisced at the objectively horrifying descriptions of 'failure' Project Eternum produced. "Namely, how that attempt at godhood might get me killed."

"You have gods? I was under the impression there wasn't enough split in your world for them to manifest."

That was a bombshell, one Don vowed he would address later.

"Uh, kind of? They didn't really exist, at least we don't think so. It was really more a reference to the fact that my people were trying to do something that was so far out of their capability it may as well have been reserved for a supreme existence. Does that make sense?"

There were some big words in there, he couldn't guarantee the Captain knew them all.

"I think I understand. They tried to do something along the lines of turning lead into gold right?"

Lead into gold? Was he talking about that old story? Something about a rock?

"Yeah. Something along those lines."

Donovan didn't dare tell him that turning lead into gold was something that could, and had, been done before. It wasn't profitable of course, the resale price of gold did not cover the energy cost the particle accelerator required to make that gold, but it could be done.

"Would you mind telling me what it was they tried to accomplish? I am fine if you leave out the specifics."

"They, uh, they tried to alter life." There was no way the Captain knew about genetics, much less understood how it worked. "It wasn't too successful."

"How so?"

"Out of 105 tries, only two children lived to tell the tale?" Should he be saying this? He trusted the Captain to keep it confidential, but should he even know about it in the first place?

"That seems fairly successful for something you consider taboo."

"Maybe, but those children might experience, er, problems later in life."

"Problems?" The Captain didn't have a clue what that might entail. He let his mind drift off imagining what a problem might entail, so the hidden intent didn't click immediately.

Don was perfectly content to watch on and catch his breath.

" '-later in life.' " There it was. "Donovan, don't tell me..."

All Don could do was nod.

You can find story with these keywords: Dead Star Dockyards, Read Dead Star Dockyards, Dead Star Dockyards novel, Dead Star Dockyards book, Dead Star Dockyards story, Dead Star Dockyards full, Dead Star Dockyards Latest Chapter