Super Genius DNA

Young-Joon packed his bags early in the morning. It was still dark outside. It was time to leave the medical center in Kukra Hill.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, and Kim Chul-Kwon, the head of his security team, and his bodyguards were waiting for him.

“Let’s go,” Kim Chul-Kwon said.

“It might be dangerous when we go to the United States now. There’s a powerful person targeting me. Do you think you’ll be okay?” Young-Joon asked.

“I sometimes feel like I’m going to die when I’m with you, but I’m used to it now. Don’t worry,” Kim Chul-Kwon replied with a smile. “After all, I’m the one who kept you safe in China, right?”

Kim Chul-Kwon tapped Young-Joon on the shoulder. There was something reassuring about his strong, muscular arm.

“Thank you,” Young-Joon said. “Let’s leave quietly so that we don’t wake the patients.”

Young-Joon walked down the hallway, protected by his security team. All but two fluorescent lights were off, and it was deserted. The quiet, chilly early morning air surrounded them.

Young-Joon went down the stairs at the end of the hall and walked out the door. He was now on the first floor of the ward. It was where the administration front desk was, where the patients waited, and where the festival took place.

“Uh…”

It was nearly four o’clock in the morning, but hundreds of people filled the lobby. They were Nicaraguan patients, caregivers, and volunteers.

“Doctor Ryu!”

The crowd swarmed around Young-Joon and quickly surrounded him and his security team.

“We heard you’re going to the Netherlands.”

“I heard you’re going to fight the U.S. government.”

“...”

Actually, Young-Joon wasn’t going to the Netherlands; he was going to the United States. He wasn’t fighting the U.S. government; he was fighting the Lofair family, the financial authority.

Young-Joon nodded along, even though it was somewhat untrue.

“That’s right. I apologize for leaving first. But even if I go, the doctors and scientists from my hospital and company will all stay here. They’ll take care of you, so don’t worry too much.”

Young-Joon thought they had come to stop him from going, as it could be concerning that the head of the medical project was leaving.

However, the people had gathered for a different reason.

“Please don’t get hurt,” said the Spanish interpreter who came to volunteer.

“We all know that you are fighting the U.S. government for us.”

“Thank you, Doctor Ryu.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Please take care of yourself.”

“I wish you luck.”

Everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes like they were praying, as they gave a short blessing to Young-Joon in English.

“I heard the reason you came to our country was to heal the patients who were victimized by the U.S. and get compensation for them…” said the interpreter. “Thank you so much.”

People were crying and praying. Suddenly, a middle-aged woman stepped in front of Young-Joon.

“Nacatamal. Nacatamal.”[1]

A woman suddenly reached her hand over Kim Chul-Kwon’s shoulder.

“Whoa!”

Surprised, Kim Chul-Kwon blocked her. She flinched and took a step back, then carefully showed him her hand. In her palm, which was callused from working in a kitchen, was something that looked like a corn cake wrapped in banana leaf. It was a traditional food of Nicaragua.

“She told you to eat it on the plane,” said the interpreter.

Young-Joon reached out above Kim Chul-Kwon’s shoulder and took the food cautiously.

“Thank you.”

Then, one by one, the citizens gained courage and came forward, sharing tokens of their gratitude.

This was a very poor country, with only cow-drawn carts traveling through the streets. It was part of Spain after Columbus discovered it, and after independence, it suffered from armed intervention by the United States and vicious exploitation by a dictatorial military government. The Sandinistas’ unity and persistent struggle finally led to the establishment of a democratic government, but times were still tough. They lived by harvesting sugar cane with scythes and no mechanized equipment. There were many thieves and robbers, and it was not safe.

As hard as life was for most people, their gifts were modest, such as a bundle of sugar cubes, a jar of tea leaves, and a paper doll the size of one’s palm.

“I’m sorry, but we’re very busy right now. And we can’t carry much, so we can’t accept all of these.”

Kim Chul-Kwon and Young-Joon’s bodyguards began to block people and turn them away.

“Ocupado! Ocupado!”[2]

Some people waved their hands to open a path in the crowd.

“Thank you.”

Young-Joon thanked them and left with his security team.

The crowd watched Young-Joon leave, and they remembered Augusto César Sandino, a symbol of the anti-American struggle in Latin America. They all put their hands together and prayed for his safety.

*

There were many large campgrounds near the Potomac River, which ran through northern Virginia. Recently, there have been some suspicious people coming and going in the woods northeast of the intersection of MacArthur Boulevard and Brickyard Road. At first glance, they looked like local drunks who had lost their way or unemployed middle-aged men, but they were the official top brass of the United States.

CIA Director Harris was raking leaves in the middle of the woods while wearing a simple disguise. After raking enough leaves, a door and a staircase leading to the basement appeared. It was Harris’ personal safe house, and it was about fifteen pyeong.[3]

There were six people inside: Robert, Isaiah Franklin, and a medical team from Johns Hopkins University.

“How’s she doing?” Harris asked.

“She’s really not doing well…”

Albert, a professor of the Department of Surgery at Johns Hopkins University, was fighting for Isaiah Franklin’s life in the safe house.

Isaiah Franklin was in very poor health to begin with as she suffered from myelodysplastic syndrome. In addition to being exhausted from the long interrogation, she had been shot in various places and had lost a lot of blood. She lost consciousness during the car ride, so she had to receive some basic first aid at Bannockburn Memorial Hospital before coming to the safe house since Lofair could track them if she was hospitalized.

“Shouldn’t she still be hospitalized?” Robert asked.

“No. The chief operations officer searched all the big hospitals in the direction we traveled. They would have caught us in no time.”

“Even if they did, what are they going to do? There’s us and Director Harris.”

“Haha, you’re so naive.”

Harris laughed.

“Do you really think the CIA is clean and that we only run on government tax dollars and its budget? If so, why wouldn’t we be able to release our budget?” Harris said. “Half of the CIA’s budget comes from Wall Street, which is why they have so much influence. The longer you stay in this organization, the more connected you become to them. The person appointed for the chief operations officer position is essentially one of Lofair’s henchmen.”

“...”

“If ordered, they will pretend to be crazy and shoot the president. Won’t it be very easy to kill a terrorist who escaped from the CIA and walked into a civilian hospital on sight?”

“Enough chit-chat. This is an intensive care unit,” Albert said.

Robert and Harris fell silent.

“And even if she was in the hospital, there’s nothing we can really do since myelodysplastic syndrome is a disease where blood isn’t made properly. But I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Albert said. “This isn’t something that can be treated with cutting-edge facilities or the doctor’s expertise or techniques; it requires creativity.”

“...”

“Speaking of which, when is Doctor Ryu coming?” Albert asked Harris.

“He should have arrived in Washington by now, and Agent Whittaker will be escorting him here.”

“Doctor Ryu will be safe, right?” Robert asked.

“We can’t guarantee anyone’s safety as long as we’re fighting with the Lofairs. Even the president is putting his life on the line.”

*

Doctor Ref was dreaming. Plagued by terrible misfortune since birth, her life has been crushed by all the evils of science. She suffered from congenital myelodysplastic syndrome because she was born genetically engineered, and she witnessed a violent mass murder that killed all her siblings and friends at a young age.

After moving to Palestine, she faced extreme discrimination—she suffered assaults, bullying, and white phosphorus bombings. She won prizes in international competitions with her natural intelligence and hard work, and she was accepted into gifted schools at European universities, but she had to leave everything behind.

Isaiah could have been a scientist, an artist, or a politician, but she ended up in a Palestinian rebel organization. The path was hard, but not lonely, because the rebels were similar to her—life was a tediously twisted tragedy.

And in it, Isaiah Franklin found a single ray of light.

‘Rosaline.’

She was the next generation of organisms, capable of replacing all life on Earth. She was a being of great intelligence, capable of understanding the world at the atomic level. Rosaline’s higher-level perspective seeked the utmost efficiency. A world controlled by Rosaline was one that could not be exploited by those in power. She understood humans as no more than mere creatures and did not discriminate based on gender, religion, or ability.

Rosaline was the only just being—a savior who could relieve all human suffering in the most efficient system of ruling.

It seemed to be within Isaiah Franklin’s grasp, but it kept slipping away.

Rosaline always had Young-Joon by her side. Isaiah Franklin, who became completely exhausted from being tormented by envy, jealousy, and self-reproach, began leaving a trail for the CIA to find her. She wanted the world to know the secret of her birth before her life was over.

But now, Isaiah Franklin realized she was wrong. She slowly began accepting her death. It was a very boring, hard life—it was a life she didn’t want to live again.

Buzz!

An intense flash of light flashed through Isaiah Franklin’s head.

“Ugh…”

She opened her eyes.

“Don’t get up. Just lie still,” Young-Joon said.

Albert was injecting her with something in her arm.

“You’re right, Doctor Ryu. She woke up when we injected her with a high concentration of your cure,” Albert said, fascinated.

“It’s regulating the activity of the spleen to suppress blood cell destruction and increase stimulation, but it’s only temporary,” Young-Joon said.

“You said you wanted to talk to Isaiah Franklin. I’ll give you the room.”

Albert then left the room.

After closing the door, Young-Joon sat beside her bed.

“What happened?” Isaiah Franklin asked.

“I came to cure you.”

“... That’s so disappointing. Did you think I’d be happy? Because of this, you put Rosaline in danger. Lofair’s power is beyond imagination.”

“Think what you want, but the die is already cast. Isaiah Franklin, I will cure you with a bone marrow transplant.”

“... I won’t be cured with a bone marrow transplant,” Isaiah Franklin said. “Ryu Young-Joon, I can mimic the bone marrow transplant treatment developed by A-GenBio. But it doesn’t work in my body. The problem in my body is the biological age of my cells.”

“That’s what you think,” Young-Joon said.

“...”

“We can cure you if Rosaline and I make hematopoietic stem cells.”

Isaiah Franklin smirked.

“That cure is going to be super expensive.”

“You probably won’t be able to pay for it. I won’t charge you, but in return, you can testify in the Netherlands,” Young-Joon said.

“The Netherlands?”

“The Nicaraguan government has filed an international lawsuit against the U.S. government. It alleges illegal genetic modification procedures being done at the Groom Lake Air Force Base embryology lab.”

“What?!”

Isaiah Franklin was shocked.

“I gathered a bunch of evidence, and Yassir and Doctor Song made a big deal in the media as they mentioned the CIA and your name.”

“No…”

“And I’ve also been contacted by your mother, Elsie. She wants to go to the Netherlands with Doctor Song. This game has gotten pretty big already; either you’re in or you’re out.”

“...”

“What do you think? I’ll set the stage for you, and you can go rip Lofair into shreds,” Young-Joon said.

“Lofair…”

“You can pay for your terrorist attack afterward.”

1. Nacatamales is a Nicaraguan-style tamales. It consists of corn, meat, rice, vegetables, and bitter orange. ☜

2. means “busy” in Spanish ☜

3. pyeong is the measurement for houses in Korea; it is about 50 square meters ☜