The old man sighed again, this time in surrender. “Thirty-seven years ago, an extraterrestrial intelligence reached out to us. They sent us a message, and even though I succeeded in unlocking that message, I still do not understand what it means.
“They sent us instructions, in the form of a complete DNA sequence. A human genome, but with some very slight differences. You are more intelligent, faster and stronger than an ordinary human. You may also have other abilities of which you may not be aware, or which might not yet have become manifest. But these traits are the means, not the end itself.”
Jenna thought she understood what he was driving at. “You think the ETs told you how to make us smarter so that we would be able to figure out how to talk to them?”
“Perhaps. But there is another possibility. Are you familiar with genetic memory?”
Jenna knew the term from her psychology classes, but sensing that Soter meant it as a rhetorical question, she shook her head.
“For years, biologists have believed that humans acquire nearly all of our memories from interacting with the environment, but recent research is showing that some elements of memory — acquired phobias, for example — may be genetically transmitted from one generation to the next. This has been posited by many as an explanation for past-life regressions.
“Memories, you see, are nothing but sequences of proteins stored in our brain, and accessed by pathways of neurons. There’s no reason that the formation of memories cannot be coded in the DNA, especially when you consider that 98 % of the human genome is non-coded, sometimes erroneously called ‘junk’ DNA.
“We don’t know what purpose non-coded DNA serves, but the intelligence responsible for sending us the message most certainly does. And I believe that every single nucleotide is important.”
Jenna nodded slowly. “You think the message is coded into my DNA.”
“Jenna,” Soter spoke in a solemn, almost reverent voice. “You are the message.”
45
The light rain that greeted Jenna as she stepped onto the tarmac intensified to a downpour, as the car in which she rode, along with Mercy, Dr. Soter and the two faux feds, made the half-hour trip into the rugged interior of the island territory of Puerto Rico. She had learned that Cray’s partner was named Markley, but she had learned little more about herself. The terrain was like nothing she had ever imagined. They were surrounded by undulating domes and valleys, lushly carpeted with verdant foliage, looking somehow greener beneath the gray sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Jenna turned and saw Mercy watching her. She nodded. “I’m used to flat islands and open water. Until last night, I’d never even left the Keys. I had no idea…”
She stopped, realizing the absurdity of the statement. This wasn’t a field trip. It was a homecoming. She had been born — if that was the word for it — and lived the first few months of her life somewhere on this very island. “Where was the lab?”
Soter fielded the question with a grave expression. “On the south coast, near Ponce. We stayed here to be close to the observatory. At the time, we had no idea where our research would take us, but we felt certain we would be…communicating…with someone. Even though our project shifted to a new discipline — genetic research — we stayed, because we knew that eventually, we would need to use the radio telescope.” He reached out a laid a hand on Jenna’s forearm. “And that day has finally come.”
The overt familiarity made Jenna uncomfortable, but she kept her reaction neutral. It was too soon to let her guard down, too soon to blindly trust Soter. His words belied the display of affection, a none-too subtle reminder that to him, she was a science experiment, not a daughter. And even if that wasn’t the case, she was nowhere near ready to embrace him as a father.
Father. That was the worst aspect of this latest revelation. She had been so quick to demonize Noah for taking her away, depriving her of parents and a normal childhood. Now, the imagined crime was meaningless. She had no parents and her childhood would have been anything but normal. Noah, in taking her away from all of that, had given her normalcy. A life. That made him the closest thing she would ever have to a father.
But all that was behind her now. Father, home, childhood…normal…all of it was gone.
She blinked away tears — self-pity was a pointless indulgence — and turned her attention back to the passing landscape. The route took them through a valley dotted with residences, and then wove back into the turbulent landscape. Rising above the limestone domes was something that, while impressive, would only have been beautiful to an engineer — a gray-white spire, stabbing straight into the heavens. Large cables stretching away from the tower became visible as they climbed out of the valley. The tips of two more spires appeared further off in the distance, to form the three corners of a triangle. The cables were connected to an enormous structure of exposed metal beams — Jenna thought it looked like an unfinished suspension bridge — that seemed to hover above the tree tops. A huge geodesic dome dangled below the framework. Jenna recognized it as a radar dome, similar to the kind used on newer naval vessels. Given their destination, that made perfect sense.
“The Arecibo Observatory,” Soter said, slipping into tour guide mode. “The largest single aperture radio telescope in the world. This is where we received the second signal, hidden in background radiation. It has guided our journey and brought us full circle.”
He turned to face her and added, “You might recognize it. It’s been featured in a number of films.”
Jenna resisted an urge to shrug indifferently. “Looks like a busy place.”
“The observatory is a popular tourist attraction. Public funding for the sciences has always been meager, so it’s necessary to generate new streams of revenue. In this case, a comprehensive visitors’ center at the base of that tower.” He gave a conspiratorial smile. “Of course, my research is very well-funded. I have been able to pass some of that along, which has given me a great deal of influence with the administrators. We won’t need to stand in line today.”
The traffic on the road leading up to the remote site was heavier than she expected, especially on a Sunday. A line of cars and buses traveled toward the observatory. A few cars passed them going the opposite direction. The rain had not kept anyone away.
When they reached a junction, Cray turned out of the queue and headed up a solitary road toward a tall building. A blinking red light on a sign caught Jenna’s attention. The legend on the placard, written in both English and Spanish read: ‘Unshielded vehicles do not pass this point with red light.’ Cray did not stop.
“The 430 MHz transmitter can fry the electronics of older cars,” Soter explained. “Our ignition system is protected.”
Jenna wondered vaguely if they ought to be concerned about the effects of the radio waves on their bodies, but assumed that any such hazard would have long since been addressed by the scientists who operated the facility. Soter’s mention of the transmitter had raised a much more immediate question. “What exactly is it that you want me to do?”
“It will make more sense once we are inside.”
Jenna found this answer woefully inadequate. “You think you can just sit me down in front of a space radio and…what? Suddenly it will all just pop into my head? How to talk to them? What to say?” Too late, it occurred to her that she was letting her emotions take over. She narrowed her eyes, fixing his gaze, and when she spoke again, her tone was much softer. “I’m sorry, Helio…can I call you Helio? Doctor Soter just seems so formal, and…we’re family.”