ReSet

By E L Russell and E C Russell

ReSet, the second book in the Cohort Series of high tech, science fiction, mystery thrillers for Teens and Young Adults continues Chloe Russo's quest for discovery through genomic engineering that will change medicine and the course of human development.
Her legs paralyzed by a cycling accident, as a wheelchair bound graduate medical researcher, she discovers secrets of the human genome to unlock the mystery of human evolution and immortality. Her awakening and emergence to a new human species, Homo Evolutis, leads to life-threatening persecution by government and paramilitary forces that want to weaponize her new powers.
Underscored by moments of romance and fantasy, with the help of her evolving cohort, specifically Dr. Michael Kregg, a gifted psychiatrist, discover if she will be able to elude dark forces and use her research for the good of mankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E L Russell
• Release date: Mar 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781497359468

E L Russell

Editorial Reviews About the Authors Enid and Enos Russell hail from Houston and sincw 2010 have published 15+ high-concept science fiction and techno-thriller novels, as well as 10+ Short Stories. Our first question is always, "What could go wrong?" Educated in mathematics and research, I have spent ten years writing White Papers advising corporations on emerging technologies. My latest research has resulted in a series of novels and short stories about the ability to re-program inheritable genetic code, curing disease through self-healing, waging war, and acquiring immortality. Our protagonists, powerful women scientists, medical researchers, are members of the next human species, Homo Evolutis. We publish through Entanglement Publishing. --This text refers to the paperback edition.

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E L Russell & E C Russell

1

Not a Coffin

Day 1, early evening, Brays Bayou, Houston

Dog tired, police officer Whatley drove north through the downpour and slow traffic on Stella Link. He crossed over the bayou, which after four hours of torrential rain had risen alarmingly, and slowed for the red light. After a long double-shift, all he wanted was a drink in his favorite chair and the TV turned to something mundane, even stupid. It was not

to

be

.

As he concentrated on the road by sheer dint of police force training, a skinny guy with a scruffy beard jumped in front of his squad card and pounded the hood. Whatley’s adrenaline shot sky high in the mother of all wake-up calls. He eased his window down to discover the problem, but the frenzied man ran ahead and gestured for the cop to follow him. With one eye on the gesticulating bum, Whatley pulled across traffic and eased into the gas station that backed up to the bayou.

My house! He stole my house. The man pointed to a pile of trash caught in the raising water surging down the bayou. See it? Way down there!

The cop opened his window halfway and peered downstream.

Its not supposed to be a coffin. It’s my house, the homeless man shouted. "He can’t

do

that

!"

Whatley, whose heart wasn’t in one more duty call, squinted his eyes against the rain and said in a voice that could have been the last dry thing that day, You sleep in a coffin?

No, man! The homeless guy pounded his fist against his thigh. He pointed downstream toward the twisted box, rapidly bobbing out of sight. The dudes put a body in my bed and threw it in the bayou. He launched forward, running after it, stopping to urge the cop to follow.

The cop pulled ahead of him and got out the car. "What’s

your

name

?"

"Denny, but you’ve got to

stop

him

!"

Denny, you’re saying you saw two bodies?

No, man. He pulled a baseball hat off his head that looked like it was getting its first washing ever and twisted it in his hands. Aren’t you listening? Two dudes… they put this kid in my house and threw it in the water. The man spun in a circle, practically incoherent in his exasperation.

Two men, Whatley said, concentrating on Denny’s explanation.

Yes! That’s right. Two men. He thrust two fingers in the cop’s face and yelled, Two. The third guy’s dead. He whimpered and scrubbed the rain off his face, with an arthritic hand. "He’s dead. Dead in

my

bed

!"

In spite of the rain, the cop saw tears on the man’s wizened cheeks.

You’re a cop. Do something. The homeless man pointed. "There it goes. My house! Get it back. I… I

need

it

!"

Ah, hell. The cop repeated. Two men… they put a body in a box. That box was your house. Did I get it right?

Denny’s relief was palpable. Ye-es. That’s it. And they threw it in the bayou… with the kid… inside.

A kid? Whatley said in alarm. Was he alive?

Denny shook his head. "No. I told you. He was dead… and blue. He was so cold and dead he

was

blue

."

The cop called it in. With more patience than he’d started with, he said, Okay, Denny. Get in. We’ll go to see about your home. Then I’m taking you to the shelter.

2

Kelly’s progress

Day 1, early morning, MD Andersen hospital

Leaving Michael in the dust, Chloe, speaking to his mind, tossed over her shoulder

keep

up

.>

he shot back. His attention focused on her strong arms and chuckled at her swishing ponytail.

Houston seldom cooled in the summer, not even at night, which explained why they were out exercising at 6:00 AM. The temperature was at least tolerable. With dirt track tires on her wheelchair, Chloe looked forward to the six-mile double circuit around the Rice campus, located conveniently across the street from the hospital. Michael ran with her and both enjoyed the light breakfast and chitchat afterwards at their favorite

coffee

shop

.

Today, taking advantage of a green light, Chloe raced ahead of him to find someone sitting at their curbside table. After a momentary irrational flash of territorial possession, she recognized the lone figure and pulled hard on her wheels drifting up to the table. She squealed with delight at finding her best friend.

Hey, Kelly girl, you’re up early!

Kelly put her fists on the tabletop to knuckle to a standing position. She didn’t speak, but the glow of her broad smile said everything.

Chloe waited and after noticing she had switched to arm cuffs, gave an admiring grin, and flashed a thumbs-up at her progress. "Of course, I was hoping you’d still be in a chair so we

could

race

."

You wish. Kelly played along. "You always did like seeing the back of

my

head

."

Hah. Now who’s wishing? What a trash-talker. She laughed in pure joy to be sparing with her friend again. With Michael’s arrival, she hooted, Look who I found.

He leaned on the table with both hands, catching his breath. Kelly… He grinned, inhaling much needed oxygen. "Hey...

looking

good

..."

She laughed, and carefully keeping one hand on the table for balance, bent to give Chloe a one armed hug. She then fell, more than sat, in the chair. "Michael, other than letting this mere girl beat you, you look

good

too

."

"You guys are ganging up on me.

Play

fair

."

Waving a finger to a woman in scrubs at a distant table, Kelly said, I’m not alone. That’s my nursemaid-caretaker. She’s probably worried I’ll start skateboarding or something. Lord, she shook her head and screwed up her mouth, there I go wishing again.

Chloe frowned, confused. Why do you need a nurse? Before she could pursue her question, a blast of cold wind blew in from Main Street. Still damp from their workout, she shivered and wished she had her hoodie. Michael would remind her he

recommended

it

.

I think the front’s coming sooner. We were smart to work out early. He glanced at Chloe.

She made a pre-emptive snap, Don’t say it, Michael.

With feigned mock surprise he shrugged and said, "

What

,

me

?"

They laughed as minor debris

twirled

by

.

Chloe asked Kelly again, So, why do you need a nurse?

Michael sipped from his water bottle and warned, to her mind and laid a gentle hand on Kelly’s shoulder. After a few cold quiet seconds he added, Have you ordered breakfast?

A passing bus forced her to raise her voice. Sure did! And I told the waitress I was expecting you two soon and she said she knew what you wanted.

Have you been keeping up with everything? Chloe asked.

"Yes. Lord! Thank God for vizing. It’s better than TV and makes even the endless physical therapy sessions bearable. Congratulations for graduation. As you know, I vized it. I bet you thought the day would

never

come

."

You got that right.

The waitress deposited their light breakfast and Chloe noticed she only ordered coffee.

"That’s all

for

you

?"

Kelly changed the topic. "Hey, guess who’s going to be working in the

rehab

wing

?"

Jiggling her eyebrows up and down like one of the Marx brothers, Chloe inquired, Oooo, got a new friend?

No-o, she said, rolling her eyes, an old one. Remember Daniel, the tall skinny guy with the shout-out-loud flowered scrubs?

"A-

ah

…

him

."

Kelly picked up on her pause. "Is there a problem I

should

know

?"

Chloe shook her head and leaned close. Probably not, but he left under strange circumstances… accusations… never substantiated… but odd… after Sophia and I were kidnapped. Keep an eye on him and let me know what you think. Meanwhile, does your physical therapy ever involve spinning?

Chloe saw a flash of surprise? Perhaps anger, or was it regret?

Kelly shook her head and lowered her eyes. I do… some stationary biking, but there’s not much wind in my sails. She rallied, looking up. Yet. Michael returned and lightened the mood that had gone from joyous to somber in moments.

Kelly stirred sugar into her coffee and played with the wooden stick. Who’d have thought it’d be so hard to get back in shape after lying around in a coma for so long. She snorted in frustration. You’d think after all that time I’d be rested up. She glared at Michael. Don’t go telling me it takes time. I know, but I still poop out practically before I get going.

Chloe could see that was the case. Her friend slumped in her chair like a tired little kid and Chloe noticed dark circles under her eyes. Chloe alerted Michael.

But I’m working on it, Kelly said. Her chin drooped, but she raised it with obvious effort and asked, How’s your research going?

Kelly’s response to her spinning question still worried Chloe, mostly because it was so unlike her friend to sound so defeated. Smiling with enthusiasm for the topic, however, she went along with the new avenue of discussion. With settling into a new routine, I guess I’m a little behind on our vizing visits. Something promising has come up. I’ll fill you in later this afternoon.

Seeming to rally, Kelly said, Jeez, you better! I was so much a part of you for so long. I hate not knowing what’s going on. Now that I’m out of the coma, I sometimes feel we’ve lost touch.

Kelly’s statement filled Chloe with memories… the fear she’d felt when Kelly’s voice first entered her head … her disbelief that Kelly was there but not in a corporal sense… her long painful recovery… and finally, Kelly’s emergence from

her

coma

.

She sighed heavily. Kelly was her best friend and was not doing well. Chloe saw and felt it. She wheeled closer and pulled Kelly to her chest, hugging her as hard as she dared. "I love you, girl. I’ve

missed

you

."

Kelly nodded. Me too, Chloe.

They laughed to break the tension and when Chloe noticed Kelly’s nurse walking toward them, she knew Michael had communicated with her privately. Kelly was tired and needed

to

rest

.

doctor

here

.>

Kelly waved an arm. Hi, come meet my friends. As they greeted each other, Kelly admitted, Sorry for the tardy, but I needed to catch up on things with Chloe.

The nurse smiled at them saying, It’s nice to meet you, then said, "Kelly, we have to

go

now

."

Are you off for more PT? Michael asked by way of conversation. Will we see you later today?

Bet your butt. Kelly laughed, but her mirth seemed an effort. Then the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder and began the short walk back to the hospital.

Looking at Michael, Chloe’s eyes and mouth drooped in sadness. "Kelly looks even thinner… and more tired. I’m afraid… afraid what it

might

mean

."

I noticed that, too, Michael said, squeezing her hand and then letting go. She doesn’t look as good as I had hoped at this point in time. Hell. She doesn’t look good, period.

3

Vacation

Day 1, Early afternoon, Lanai, Hawaii

Treading water in the deep ocean near Lanai, Hawaii, Chloe reflected on the argument she and Michael had an hour ago in Houston about the wisdom and timing of being away from the hospital. Shannon and Elizabeth placed Kelly into a restorative coma in an attempt to lengthen the period before her organs began to shut down. Jeez! Once such a slide into death began, it could prove impossible to stop. Their plan was to gain more time for research and come up with a cure to her rapid decline .

Chloe totally freaked out. She wanted to stay close to Kelly, but Shannon was adamant. "For now, Kelly is safe and you are in the way. Go. Get out of our hair so we

can

work

."

Reluctantly, she’d agreed. But just for one day, and you will notify me if there is a change?

Yes, yes, Shannon

assured

her

.

Her attempts to viz with Kelly before they left, failed miserably. When she finally managed to get through to her, the interaction had gone badly. Kelly demanded complete isolation and withdrew from reality. She told Chloe she would watch the world from within the walls of

her

mind

.

Chloe asked in panic.

give

up

!>

Now, as Chloe swam in the warm ocean, she hoped she could refuel her own body and wrap her brain around the horror of what Kelly was up against, a sudden wave sloshed over her head, disrupting her thought, making her laugh and cough at the same time. Michael had wanted to surf in the calmer waters of Lopa Beach where it would be safer for Chloe, but she’d told him flat out, that’s how she viewed them, useless good-for-nothings,

baby

-

pool

.>

As your doctor, Michael had said, I strongly advise against any body surfing, period.

Some doctor, Chloe thought. You’re a psychiatrist, for Pete’s sakes. And you’re advising me on my lower-L2-S5-practically-on-my-butt spinal cord injury? Give me a break.

With some quick research, she located a perfect channel for body surfing. "It’s too tame for the big-board surfers, but it’s not that wussy stuff you wanted for me. And, I think it will still be exciting enough to be fun for you. Also, because it has a steep a drop-off, it should discourage family outings and will be blessedly private."

Chloe watched the incoming swells and waited for the next perfect roller. Its tell, a slight shift of light off the surface of the leading edge of submerged energy, accompanied by a subtle local tsunami-like departure of water, would announce its arrival. Michael caught a ‘big one’ moments earlier and returned for another. She grinned as he doggedly struggled through the foam of the bone yard, racing to get past the next crashing breaker. Both had agreed not to reposition, but to face the surf on its terms.

She felt a surge of energy behind her and spun away from her view of the beach to catch the approaching swell. Her legs would have slowed her except for the strength in her arms and shoulders. Guided by her innate ability to judge the swell, she calculated the timing and path necessary to catch the rising water.

she spun onto her back, legs hanging deep toward the incoming wave, and started a powerful backstroke toward the beach. The combination of her strength and hand paddles propelled her through the water, causing her legs to rise. Her heels broke the surface briefly and as the wave crested, lifting her higher in the water, Chloe filled her lungs with air, twisted to her stomach, and raced face down for shore. Her long frame and outstretched arms became her surfboard.

With a rhythmic dolphin flexing of her torso as far down her back as possible, she embraced the wave’s acceleration. Angling her arms back for stability, she allowed the wall of energy to lift her head and shoulders out of the downward curve of the

breaking

wave

.

Fleetingly, she noticed a small group of people walking on the beach, so much for ‘blessed privacy,’ but the excitement of the moment took over and she deftly adjusted her hand paddles to angle her ride toward the barrel forming to

her

left

.

The perfect ride, she thought, but unexpectedly, something bumped her arm and knocked her off course. Whatever it was stayed next to her. It feels… alive!

Panic snaked through her. She grabbed a lung full of air and dropped low into the curling wave. Shark? Ridiculous! Sharks don’t ride waves… do they? Too small… something... in distress…? She

couldn’t

see

.

With a powerful stroke of arms, she forced her body deeper under the passing wave. She didn’t need to see the object. She sensed where it was. Shaking off a hand paddle, she reached out and her hand closed around straps. She pulled them to her causing something soft and cold to collide with her body. Wrapping the tiny bundle tight to her chest and using the strength of her paddled arm, she turned to fight her way toward surface.

The wave above pushed her down. She needed the strength of both arms to survive. Dropping her small bundle was not possible. Frustrated, she screamed, and instantly repositioned within feet of the shoreline.

4

Entry

Day 1, Rice University admissions

Abrilliant flash of light flooded the room, followed instantly by a crack of thunder that shook the building. While the rest of the admission hopefuls hung together squealing over the weather and exchanging banalities, a twelve-year old boy sat stiffly to the side in one of the many leather chairs, disdainful of the gaggle of giggling girls by the window. Reading the demeaning name tag pinned to his jacket, he wondered who thought of him as Kyle Henderson. No one at the training complex ever called him by that name. Already bored with the slow moving fish in the aquarium, he focused his attention on the clear plastic ball on the floor powered by an enclosed, obviously well fed, Mongolian gerbil. He assessed the rodent’s skill at avoiding table legs and floor lamps as it rapidly completed its fourteenth circuit of the comfortably appointed paneled

waiting

room

.

He smoothed his gray slacks, for the umpteenth time and tugged his shirt free. He had been uncomfortable in the fake school uniform from the start. The tie seemed ridiculous and when they’d dropped him off at the entrance to the campus, he’d wasted no time in yanking it loose.

The voice exploded in his ear. Are you in the Admissions Office?

He sub-vocalized a Yes, he said and tossed the tie into the nearest trashcan.

He removed a shiny black yo-yo-like ball from his pocket and carefully rubbed it between his hands. It felt surprisingly warm to his touch. Taping a finger behind his right ear, he spoke quietly in his throat like a trained ventriloquist. "This is stupid. Why don’t I just

walk

in

?"

"Follow

the

plan

."

A new flash of lightning sent the fish in the nearby aquarium darting for cover. Then, as if announced by the thunder that followed, the door behind him opened and a tall skinny student in jeans and a t-shirt sauntered through. His shirt read I’d kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

Kyle, I presume, he said, stepping in front of the boy. I’m here to give you a private tour. He looked the boy up and down, from his blond--almost white-- hair to his top dollar running shoes. So, he said, I hear you qualified for early admission. He didn’t look at Kyle, but waved to the girls at the window. "Real early special admission, I’d say. Just how old

are

you

?"

Kyle knew they had put fifteen on his application, but in spite of the assholes that ruled his life, he admitted to his real age. Twelve. He was on the short side with skin still free of peach fuzz. Shaving was nowhere on his horizon.

The tour guide didn’t even try to hide his surprise. No shit, man. Really? What are your scores?

800s.

In the writing section too? Although 800s were not unusual for Rice applications, they seldom came with kids

his

age

.

Yes. Big deal, he thought. As far as he was concerned nothing was difficult about the tests.

Damn! The admissions tour guide was impressed. "Well, your card says you’re interested in genetics. The director told me to include today’s special lecture in the Molecular Bio Hall. Do you want

to

go

?"

Duh! Dude. Do you think? "Yes. That’s