Professor Norman Rumble got out of bed after the best night sleep he’d had for many years. He showered and put on a clean white laboratory tunic
“What time is it?” said a figure stirring from the bed.
“It’s early, go back to sleep you still have an hour” said the old professor as he made his way out of his living dome and over to the laboratory. Norman Rumble loved the dawn; he walked over to the lab and took in the morning air as the sun started it daily ascent along the top of the cavern’s plasma screened ceiling. He checked his watch and waited. At 6:30 precisely, a low click was heard as the computer that controlled the environment, gave instructions to the air blowers and mist making machine by the waterfalls. A cold light mist blew over the Citadel floor, which refreshed the citadel and reminded Rumble of New Zealand. Norman watched, as usual, as the curling mist bathed the pastures and orchards.
He then went into his large office and poured himself a glass of pineapple juice and gazed out of the window, back into the citadel, as the remaining inhabitants went about their daily routines He noticed old bong Toah and his wife walking around the pasture, collecting cow dung for the methane tanks to process, a chore the old couple had done for years and, although the citadel now had Hydrogen power as well as solar and hydro electric, so methane power was rarely used but it kept the old couple contented. He watched as the brightly coloured parakeets and flowerpeckers, some made by The Oven and some by insemination, flew squawking over the herd of cows, with old Jake chasing after them as they headed back to their nests in the tall mango orchards, their morning fun now over. The citadel had all the noises and smells of the world outside.
A young native woman entered Norm’s office and bought in a fresh jug of pineapple juice.
“Thank you Eve,” said Norm to the girl who smiled and left the room. Norman then proceeded to the Theory computer to carry out his daily check list.
****
It had been several months now since they had blocked off the entrances to the Let-cum-baan cut themselves off from the world outside.
There had been a country wide search for Tar and Tighe, which had fizzled out after a few weeks. All Norman and the citadel inhabitants could do was hold a memorial for his adopted son and Tar, but as only dust remained, a large brass plaque was made in their honour and placed on the wall of the precipice. The CCTV monitors had been disconnected and the large concrete pillar that had been placed under the floor of the Ta Prohm elevator had been covered in decorations, photos and paintings of the friends who had left the citadel as a reminder. The citadel had been unaware that the replicant had been discovered. Their only communication to the outside world was via their private satellite system that Norman Junior had set up. It was now 07:30 and Norman had returned to his office to await a communication to come in from the U.K.
Rumbles computer signalled an incoming transmission and the smiling face of Norman Junior and his son Cain flashed up on the screen.
“Hi dad,” said Junior.
“Hi granddad,” joined in Cain
“Hello boys,” replied Rumble.
“Father have you been watching the news on your satellite T.V” enquired Junior.
“No son, I have been too busy, why?” replied the old man.
Norman Junior explained that the winner of the Nobel Prize for science and technology had a heart attack and died whilst receiving the prize. The Nobel committee therefore had to rescind their order of posthumous recognition after a public outcry. They had to amend their lists and Rosalind Franklyn was on the new list.
Norman Junior his wife Patty and his son Cain, along with Tu and Liz, had moved to London after the immense success of the CAIN celled computer, that had revolutionised computers and made them, and the software team, extremely wealthy. They had all been busy with other projects and assisted with their old home, the citadel, with computer technology and communication, which they had brought in before they had closed the entrance.
Norman started to weep and thanked his son for the information.
“What a great few days this had been already,” sobbed Rumble.
“Where is she father?” said an exited Norm Junior after several more minutes of chat
“I left her sleeping son; she has only been with us for a day and still tired from the effects.”
“Okay,” said a disappointed junior “maybe later,”
Norman’s office door then opened and a smiling old Khmer woman entered the room, went over to Norman and looked into the screen. Norman stood up to allow the old woman to sit down and with tears in her eyes she touched the screen and Norman Junior touched his screen.
“Hello son,” said Theary.
“Mum,” said a tearful junior and turned to Cain.
“Say hello to your grandma.”
“Hi grandma,” said the tot “How are you?”
Professor Norman Rumble, put his arms around his wife and said,
“She is perfect Cain.”
****
Boran and Norman had continued with the Ophiuchus project, which they had decided not to share this with the world, as they felt maybe God had interjected with the failure and possible demise of the Buddha replicant, along with the killing of Tighe and Tar made them think that it would be used for sinister, rather than good purposes.
They instead decided to create a new civilisation from cells that had been found in the skeletal remains that Boran had unearthed many years ago. They were not exactly sure whether the bones and teeth where from male or female, or whether they had been ancient Mori-Ori, ancient Khmer, or possibly both. The cell sniffer had found a few cells in the dried up marrow of some of the femur bones and teeth.
The oven first created a young native woman, who turned out better than expected, as Theory and the oven’s artificial intelligence had been constantly improving and upgrading their own programmes. The procedure from start to finish took about six weeks. They named the replicant woman Eve. Norman was then granted his wish and the second creation was Theary, Norman’s beloved wife, who had started life anew the previous day. They sped up the process and made two replicant’s at the same time, two canvasses, but could only add the paint and software one at a time. They intended to make about a hundred inhabitants altogether, and knew they could renew themselves at their leisure as and when their bodies wore out; this would be a perpetual turnover with the same neighbours and friends for eternity, if they wished.
The family’s tearful reunion was interrupted by Norm’s intercom.
“Norman could you come to the ward,” said Boran who knew Norman liked to be there for moments such as these.
“Hi Uncle Boran,” said Cain when he heard Borans voice and Norman kept his finger on the intercom button.
“Hi Cain,” said Boran “I will call you later, when I call Tu.”
“Be right there Boran,” said Norman and he kissed Theary on the forehead.
“Next time we speak I may be talking to my older brother and sister,” said Norman Junior sarcastically.
“Or maybe younger,” giggled Norman “and your mum may be blonde.”
Theary slapped the old professor and told him not to be so cheeky.
Norman left the room and the three remained chatting on the computer.
Professor Rumble entered the ward where Boran and the Eve stood over a large male and while Boran checked vital signs, Eve stroked the man’s forehead and spoke in an ancient Khmer dialect. The shroud of life was taken away, cleaned and made ready for its next occupant.
“Mori-Ori?” enquired Norman.
“Mori-Ori” confirmed Boran and smiled at the figure of a mid twenty-year-old male, who had previously died of a virulent form of flu virus and whose molar teeth had provided the cells. Theory had removed the virus cells and added a *cop to the RNA recipe so it wouldn’t return.
Cop is a term used to stop the RNA replicating a certain type of cell, in this case an influenza virus, previously it had been Thearys cancer cells
“Welcome to the new world,” smiled Norman and placed his hand on the new arrivals head.
The man returned the smile and fell into a deep sleep.
The two old scientists and now lifelong brothers just smiled at each other, they knew this was a friendship that would last forever. They had joked many times over the past few months on how they wanted to look on their re-birth; they had certain features that they wanted to change. Boran joked that he wanted Roth to have bigger titty’s and she responded by not wanting to give Boran a mouth, so he wouldn’t be so cheeky. They also discussed that if the world ever found out, would they be perceived as miracle workers for the plastic surgery brigade, or modern day Dr. Frankenstein’s. They didn’t care. They intended to create a new civilisation from the ashes of the old. Everything was now euphoric in their little utopia underground and would remain that way for eternity.
Life is not measured by every breath we take. But by the moments that take our breath away.