Genemixed Terrans
"Welcome, Adian Stammler and Rachel Wraith, I am Bianca_a7afaf79-92ed-44c3-92c3-a46a56f91ce9, I will be your guide, I am a gene-doctor here, I prevent negative gene-expressions among the genemixed. You are outsiders, I'm sure you don't know what that means."
"Actually, I am myself a gene-mixed, so I do know, but my mate does not, not yet."
"What, you are gene-mixed?"
"I was born in the meritocracy, to Kristof Wraith and Mila Wraith."
"Those are Solarian names..."
"Mila Wraith was born in Thallax III iota, and Kristof on Sol III, I was decanted here, in this facility."
"Oh."
"Mila's birthname wasn't Mila, was it?"
"Err, no."
"What was her designation?"
"Peacered 253b2724-df76-4b05-8e7e-38ecb769998f."
"Then we are cousins, I am Peace 1058bd69-16be-4f26-9e8e-21e9d5ea073a, I am not a true expression though, despite not being an explicit gene-mix."
"I've read about this, but I can't make heads or tails out of it..." Adian opined.
"I have mixed traits of other genes, but none clearly enough to be another gene-line, so I'm not considered a gene-mix, myself. And of course, I'm not a self-gene expression either, because the mix is too different from my gene-parent. It's rather technical I'm afraid."
"Adian here isn't vat-born, so I doubt he'd understand the cultural aspect."
"What, he's natural-born?"
"Yes." Both women were blushing, fiercely.
"We'll talk about this later, Rachel." He put his full tone of commanding into the words, reminding her where they'd met:
Him the brash young international student, sponsored by a merit schooling program into the most prestigious military command school on Earth, her, a scion of privilege, far more interested in the international commerce topics on her curriculum. By the time they'd graduated, he'd dropped out of just one command class, but that was enough to stall his progression in the military, while he'd interested her enough in the military aspects, she had actually graduated, and was acting ensign in the Papal Guards. His talent for command was never in question, he'd just turned into a rabid student of history, travel, arts and culture, expensive tastes he'd never really indulged. That he was dating her, and she usually brought him along on her private flying transport, facilitated his tastes. His dissertation on the Second French Empire's influence on Italian visual arts was rather well-thought of. He also reminded her what it meant to be human, just by his embrace of every second.
"You were born here? That's a singular honour, this facility is about half-ceremonial by now."
"Being born to the Solarian Ambassador will do that."
"Oh, silly me, those Wraiths."
"And this is Kristof's successor."
"I'm honoured. Perhaps I'll get to gene-doctor your children someday."
"Why?"
"Err, I just assumed..."
"Yes?"
"I just assumed, since you two are so obviously comfortable with each other, that you might..."
Rachel's hair had been called auburn, a time or two, her face, right now, was redder than her hair!
Adian's normally unshakeable composure took a hit too, but he managed to say. "Unsafe assumption, but totally understandable". Trying not to make her feel too uncomfortable, it was after all, a very common mistake the paparazzi kept making.
"I'm sorry."
"That was wicked, what you did." Rachel said, from where she was snuggled, almost under him, to his left in bed. "Not as much as you think, I said she made an unsafe assumption, I just never said which one she made was so unsafe." "I'll give you that point, but which assumption did she make?" "That because you were a gene-mix, we'd go through the vat process for any of our children." "You think I'd bear natural children to you?" "That, or if I'm going to be a Meritocrat subject, I'm holding out to start a gene-line." Rachel just giggled. "That's harder than you think." "Honestly, we do need to talk about this though..." "Honey, we're not even married yet." "We don't have to, the two are legally disconnected now, you can't tie marriage to children, legally, it's in the protocols." "I know, but just because it's not legally tied doesn't mean I'd rather we promised something to each other about children, before we have any." "Understood, and the method?" "Mom was fine from a Vat, even if she wasn't a full-blooded gene-expression." "And your dad and me are fine from the exact opposite, full natural births." "The mom and child are a bit more at risk than I'd like for that." "It's your body. I'm still holding out for our own gene-lines though." "Would you really want your son to be your own clone?" "What? No." "That's what you're saying though, a gene-line is a clone line. They're designed to be identical." "And those gene-mixes?" "I'm 70% like mother, 30% like dad, enough to be a gene-mix, not enough to be a gene-line. Natural-borns are seldom more than 55% like either parent, except for major cases of chimerisation." "So if we started a gene-line, we'd have to have more than one child, just to have our genes expressed?" "We'd first need to both start gene-lines, that's not guaranteed, nor indeed, is it likely that we're start our lines at the same time." "Then what?" "Then, once our gene-lines start expressing, if the gene-doctors spot a defect in an embryo of either of us, it's policy to use the spouse's gene-line, if any, for correcting genes. If enough correcting genes are required, you become a gene-mix, if you fall below 60% of a single-line, or if both your parents had the gene, and can't help correct, other gene-lines are mixed in. Enough genes mixed in, and you're like our gene-doctor from earlier, a Gene-blunt, or gene-stub." "Gene-blunt? Gene-stub?" "It's slang for someone whose gene-expression is blunted, for the health of the embryo, but it also stands for how the parent's genes expression is 'shortened'." "And that self-gene expression?" "It's the opposite, when they replace genes, but through a process that's not quite well understood, you end up with the donor parent's genes, not the original one." "Huh?" "Imagine we do like you say." She grinned fiercely. "And we both start a gene-line, and they picked an embryo from your line to make a merchant, or artist. And you have a 'defect', and they replace it with my genes, enough times that the child doesn't look like you at all, he's all me, and he turns out to be a natural born warrior? He'd be a self-expression of my genes." "I'm not just an artist though." He flexed the arm he held just over her head. "That was just for the purpose of discussion, and the criteria are certainly more technical, because, well first, because a self-expression always looks like a labtech botch at first. Like someone took the wrong vial." "Well, if they took a vial of you, and mixed in more you, it'd be no surprise it'd look like you." "Yeah, so to not count like someone getting the labels wrong, they have to find your genes, but only in the inert coding." "Basically, if you made me entirely recessive, I'd be a self-expression?" "Basically, that's a really, really shorthanded way to say that, may I use it?" "You're my love, you own everything that's mine, of course you can, you didn't need to ask." "Ah, but I don't own your mind, nor do I want to, how would you delight and surprise me, otherwise?" "Fair point."
"It's time for us to return to Thallaxad City, thank you very much for the visit, it was enlightening." "I'm always glad to help." "One thing that I was wondering, why are you wearing armour?" "This was originally a military post, as are all our cloning centres." "And your military doesn't have duty uniforms?" "Powered armour, as you can imagine, has a few advantages, it's standing policy that anyone who has armour custom-fitted to them during their military service can keep it in perpetuity, and wear it as duty uniform." Rachel dug her nails into his palm, gently, their signal for catching the Meritocracy in a lie.
"So why is she wearing armour then?" "She's active military, in her duty station, and wearing armour? They're on a higher alert status of course." "What, so terrorists?" "Or a plain good old attack, but this deep in Meritocracy territory, it's a lot more likely to be terrorism." "How deep are we?" "We're two-thirds of the way in, not quite the center, but far from any edge." "Would it stop the Fillifer?" "No, at least, what is known about Fillifer transfer technology is that distance or intervening units don't seem to factor in. They've got a truce at present with the meritocracy." "And the Tlalor?" "The Oooglah and the Rukh gave them a drubbing at Hyusshuk, Intel says they're laying low." "The Tlalor are a lot more fractious than Intel seems to think." "Is that your Intelligence Assessment, Sir?" She quirked her eyebrow at him playfully. "It was in your report, Colonel." He smiled to take off the sting that she wasn't yet a full-bird. "Next exam, you think?" "Someone is playing games with your father, saying you're getting the recom because you're his daughter. I haven't found out who, yet..." "Adian!" "What, I'm not going to break his balls, just explain to him why he's wrong..." "What if there's more than one person?" "Your votes have had more tiebreaker calls than any other calls since the new system was put in..." "Thanks, lover. But... I know better." "You know better than what?" "I know you, you'll explain to them why they're wrong, try to get them to repent, they won't, and you'll end up in a fist fight. The fifth on your record, totally unbecoming of an ambassador. You could end up censured or worse." "The meritocracy respects me for getting my hands dirty." "It does help that you look more like a multi-martial-arts fighter than an ambassador." "Hey!" "What? You do, all those trim muscles." "You've never minded before..." "Who said I'm minding, I'm just noticing they're hardly standard issue." "Oh, so you've been sampling the other ambassadors?" "Ugh, no, but I did... look." "Is that why you slept here, instead of your room?" "You mean, why I let you ply me with drink and risk causing a horrible scandal by sleeping with someone you're responsible for?" "I plied you with drink?" "All those toasts!" Her grin was sheepish. "My duty as host, I'm traveling from Terra, but they call on me to host this at our embassy." "Not an accident, they're trying to get back into the Gethan's good graces, so far it's not working, and the only thing the Gethan and Meritocrats can agree is us." "And that's not to agree we're the best thing since sliced bread, either?" Rachel was laughing. "Actually yes, that's what they agree upon, that we invented sliced bread, and so have to be pretty swell guys." "What?" "They're human offshoots, to various degrees, Gethans less, of course, but they're still mostly human. Human offshoots who agree that Sol III, or to use its old name, Terra, is where it all started." "What about the Yakhont?" "Who knows about them? They're so secretive, I sometimes think we're lucky we know they exist." "Are they human?" "According to the Gethans, who spent more time with them than we did, they're more human than them, which may or may not be saying much." "But less than the Meritocrats?" "Yes, that much was clear, the Gethans see the Meritocrats and us as political factions in a single species, not different species." "Has anyone ever asked them to mediate?" "Yes, they refused, saying getting that involved with us would make the Yakhont think they preferred us to them."
"That was wicked, what you did." Rachel said, from where she was snuggled, almost under him, to his left in bed. "Not as much as you think, I said she made an unsafe assumption, I just never said which one she made was so unsafe." "I'll give you that point, but which assumption did she make?" "That because you were a gene-mix, we'd go through the vat process for any of our children." "You think I'd bear natural children to you?" "That, or if I'm going to be a Meritocrat subject, I'm holding out to start a gene-line." Rachel just giggled. "That's harder than you think." "Honestly, we do need to talk about this though..." "Honey, we're not even married yet." "We don't have to, the two are legally disconnected now, you can't tie marriage to children, legally, it's in the protocols." "I know, but just because it's not legally tied doesn't mean I'd rather we promised something to each other about children, before we have any." "Understood, and the method?" "Mom was fine from a Vat, even if she wasn't a full-blooded gene-expression." "And your dad and me are fine from the exact opposite, full natural births." "The mom and child are a bit more at risk than I'd like for that." "It's your body. I'm still holding out for our own gene-lines though." "Would you really want your son to be your own clone?" "What? No." "That's what you're saying though, a gene-line is a clone line. They're designed to be identical." "And those gene-mixes?" "I'm 70% like mother, 30% like dad, enough to be a gene-mix, not enough to be a gene-line. Natural-borns are seldom more than 55% like either parent, except for major cases of chimerisation." "So if we started a gene-line, we'd have to have more than one child, just to have our genes expressed?" "We'd first need to both start gene-lines, that's not guaranteed, nor indeed, is it likely that we're start our lines at the same time." "Then what?" "Then, once our gene-lines start expressing, if the gene-doctors spot a defect in an embryo of either of us, it's policy to use the spouse's gene-line, if any, for correcting genes. If enough correcting genes are required, you become a gene-mix, if you fall below 60% of a single-line, or if both your parents had the gene, and can't help correct, other gene-lines are mixed in. Enough genes mixed in, and you're like our gene-doctor from earlier, a Gene-blunt, or gene-stub." "Gene-blunt? Gene-stub?" "It's slang for someone whose gene-expression is blunted, for the health of the embryo, but it also stands for how the parent's genes expression is 'shortened'." "And that self-gene expression?" "It's the opposite, when they replace genes, but through a process that's not quite well understood, you end up with the donor parent's genes, not the original one." "Huh?" "Imagine we do like you say." She grinned fiercely. "And we both start a gene-line, and they picked an embryo from your line to make a merchant, or artist. And you have a 'defect', and they replace it with my genes, enough times that the child doesn't look like you at all, he's all me, and he turns out to be a natural born warrior? He'd be a self-expression of my genes." "I'm not just an artist though." He flexed the arm he held just over her head. "That was just for the purpose of discussion, and the criteria are certainly more technical, because, well first, because a self-expression always looks like a labtech botch at first. Like someone took the wrong vial." "Well, if they took a vial of you, and mixed in more you, it'd be no surprise it'd look like you." "Yeah, so to not count like someone getting the labels wrong, they have to find your genes, but only in the inert coding." "Basically, if you made me entirely recessive, I'd be a self-expression?" "Basically, that's a really, really shorthanded way to say that, may I use it?" "You're my love, you own everything that's mine, of course you can, you didn't need to ask." "Ah, but I don't own your mind, nor do I want to, how would you delight and surprise me, otherwise?" "Fair point."
"It's time for us to return to Thallaxad City, thank you very much for the visit, it was enlightening." "I'm always glad to help." "One thing that I was wondering, why are you wearing armour?" "This was originally a military post, as are all our cloning centres." "And your military doesn't have duty uniforms?" "Powered armour, as you can imagine, has a few advantages, it's standing policy that anyone who has armour custom-fitted to them during their military service can keep it in perpetuity, and wear it as duty uniform." Rachel dug her nails into his palm, gently, their signal for catching the Meritocracy in a lie.
"So why is she wearing armour then?" "She's active military, in her duty station, and wearing armour? They're on a higher alert status of course." "What, so terrorists?" "Or a plain good old attack, but this deep in Meritocracy territory, it's a lot more likely to be terrorism." "How deep are we?" "We're two-thirds of the way in, not quite the center, but far from any edge." "Would it stop the Fillifer?" "No, at least, what is known about Fillifer transfer technology is that distance or intervening units don't seem to factor in. They've got a truce at present with the meritocracy." "And the Tlalor?" "The Oooglah and the Rukh gave them a drubbing at Hyusshuk, Intel says they're laying low." "The Tlalor are a lot more fractious than Intel seems to think." "Is that your Intelligence Assessment, Sir?" She quirked her eyebrow at him playfully. "It was in your report, Colonel." He smiled to take off the sting that she wasn't yet a full-bird. "Next exam, you think?" "Someone is playing games with your father, saying you're getting the recom because you're his daughter. I haven't found out who, yet..." "Adian!" "What, I'm not going to break his balls, just explain to him why he's wrong..." "What if there's more than one person?" "Your votes have had more tiebreaker calls than any other calls since the new system was put in..." "Thanks, lover. But... I know better." "You know better than what?" "I know you, you'll explain to them why they're wrong, try to get them to repent, they won't, and you'll end up in a fist fight. The fifth on your record, totally unbecoming of an ambassador. You could end up censured or worse." "The meritocracy respects me for getting my hands dirty." "It does help that you look more like a multi-martial-arts fighter than an ambassador." "Hey!" "What? You do, all those trim muscles." "You've never minded before..." "Who said I'm minding, I'm just noticing they're hardly standard issue." "Oh, so you've been sampling the other ambassadors?" "Ugh, no, but I did... look." "Is that why you slept here, instead of your room?" "You mean, why I let you ply me with drink and risk causing a horrible scandal by sleeping with someone you're responsible for?" "I plied you with drink?" "All those toasts!" Her grin was sheepish. "My duty as host, I'm traveling from Terra, but they call on me to host this at our embassy." "Not an accident, they're trying to get back into the Gethan's good graces, so far it's not working, and the only thing the Gethan and Meritocrats can agree is us." "And that's not to agree we're the best thing since sliced bread, either?" Rachel was laughing. "Actually yes, that's what they agree upon, that we invented sliced bread, and so have to be pretty swell guys." "What?" "They're human offshoots, to various degrees, Gethans less, of course, but they're still mostly human. Human offshoots who agree that Sol III, or to use its old name, Terra, is where it all started." "What about the Yakhont?" "Who knows about them? They're so secretive, I sometimes think we're lucky we know they exist." "Are they human?" "According to the Gethans, who spent more time with them than we did, they're more human than them, which may or may not be saying much." "But less than the Meritocrats?" "Yes, that much was clear, the Gethans see the Meritocrats and us as political factions in a single species, not different species." "Has anyone ever asked them to mediate?" "Yes, they refused, saying getting that involved with us would make the Yakhont think they preferred us to them."
Type
Social, Brotherhood
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