Solar flare

The solar surface boiled and roiled, dazzling between deep dark caverns and black pits. Tusker was immersed. Flares shot out to tangle round him in his pod, synthesised from a live feed from the Helios observatory mid-way between sun and earth. Excitedly he threw himself down into a sun spot, a vacancy that penetrated deep through the layers of the sun’s plasma convection zone. Flux ropes, twisted by extreme magnetism, tensed, broke then reformed around him. This was a ride he loved. He felt as one with these unmatchable forces. He, with the great god that is the sun. 

Tusker had been preparing for this moment for some time. The solar cycle had been building to its eleven year sun spot maximum, the point when it would be most active. There had been the odd solar flare, but the data was showing something much more significant was going to happen. He wanted to be there, to feel it. And now it was imminent.  Cells of rising plasma from deep below were making the surface super-granulated. A bubble, so big the Earth could fit inside it, bulged and seemingly throbbed before tearing under the immense magnetic forces that pulled one way, then the other. It burst, and a gush of material streamed from the sun, the mass ejection he had been waiting for. It was heading right where he wanted it. AL-1 was to be tested. He would see if the carapace project was worthy of the time and effort he had put into it. 

As his excitement over the mass ejection subsided, Tusker flicked on his real time feed from AL-1. He watched tenderly as Harriet’s chest slowly rose and fell, sleep finally taking over from the dreadful space nausea she had felt.  With her face relaxed she looked so much like her mother Eileen. Tusker’s mind drifted back to those days he and Eileen had shared a lab.

*

It had been shortly after the failed Mars mission. The effects of radiation on the human body, once outside the protection of the Earth’s magnetosphere, had been under-estimated. The astronauts one by one had died. This troubled the world, and Tusker wanted to find a solution. 

‘Hi, I’m Eileen Sparkes.’ Tusker watched as his supervisor shook hands with Eileen, the candidate selected by his father to run the lab. Family money had flowed after the compensation awarded for the loss of their massive fossil fuel business which was forcibly wound up. Edgar had lobbied his father to buy a stake in a gene editing research start up, an outlet for his interest and rudimentary education in the life sciences. 

‘Let me introduce you to Edgar Tusker.’ His supervisor brought Eileen over. Tusker wiped his hands on his lab coat before reaching out. He detected just a flicker of a wry smile on Eileen’s as she firmly gripped his hand. Her perfect pale face was framed by dark auburn curls, drawn back in a bun. 

‘So an actual Tusker is working here,’ she said. ‘I suppose not unexpected given Daddy’s business style.’

Tusker’s cheeks coloured up. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t a great start …’ Eileen tried to repair the situation. 

‘No problem, I get it all the time,’ Tusker butted in. ‘One of the problems of having a well known father.’ He tried to restore his dignity. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you. I’ve read some of your reports. You seem to be working through the inventory of rare genetic diseases, curing them one by one. The world owes you a great debt.’

Eileen laughed. ‘Well, that’s a bit over the top. But I appreciate the sentiment.’ Her smile lingered as she regarded his broad generous face with its mop of dark hair. Not unattractive she thought, even if a little awkward.

 Over coffee they spent the next hour discussing her interest in using gene editing to address some of the diseases that struck in middle life.

‘But there are some more pressing problems that are going to affect humanity as a whole,’ Tusker said, wanting to move the conversation on.

‘I know. The way climate is affecting the lives of people all over the world,’ she sighed.

‘Don’t you think the world is dying?’ Tusker seemed animated. ‘It seems crazy throwing money after solutions that are just unachievable, given how far advanced the process is.’

Eileen could see how much this meant to Tusker. The intensity of his gaze increased.

‘No, the answer has to be beyond this planet,’ he continued. ‘If Humanity is going to survive, we just have to accept that we messed up the earth and move on.’

‘But we’ve seen how hostile space really is. There is no clearer evidence than the Mars mission. The human body is just not able to withstand it. We have evolved to be supremely adapted to life on earth, and nothing else,’ she countered.

‘Well, that's where gene editing comes in. You say we are only adapted to life on this planet. Well, the thing about humans is that we are problem solvers. I truly believe we will be able to change our bodies so they can withstand the rigours of space travel.’ Tusker’s passion was obvious.

Over the next few months Tusker observed Eileen’s techniques of chopping and changing strips of DNA, gleaning every bit of information he could to fill in the gaps in his knowledge. He tolerated Eileen’s projects that would lead to yet more therapeutic breakthroughs. At the same time the lab was on a recruitment drive, and slowly they accumulated a team of people much closer in aim and attitude to his. They learnt from Eileen, but didn’t hide from her the long term plan. Gene editing for therapy was for yesterday. The future was all about enhancement to  improve the human body. 

Eileen tried to fight her corner, but became more disaffected over time. Tusker’s power and confidence grew and not long after Geeni-Feeni was born. Their split was inevitable.

Tusker mused on what could have been while he flicked back to the sleeping form of Harriet. No need to wake up yet. The solar mass ejection wouldn’t arrive for several hours. He turned to the reports of terrorist incidents superimposed on a world map. Video ran on each. He zero-ed in on a face. Gone was the pale beauty, the auburn hair. No, now this was a rugged angry face, its right side carrying the scars of failed biomechanics. In fact, it was much like his own.