Transcendence Chapter 1 (Patreon)

1.1

The Bostonian Regal Hotel stood like a grand, old sentry on the edge of Boston's bustling downtown, its red-brick facade a testament to the city's historical charm. Its windows, arrayed like vigilant eyes, reflected the early morning light, casting a warm, golden hue over the cobbled streets that whispered tales of the city's storied past.

Inside, the grand lobby bustled with activity, resonating with the eclectic mix of accents and the soft clatter of luggage wheels over the polished marble floor. The air was tinged with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the adjacent café, mingling with the subtle, old-book scent of the hotel's antique furniture.

Amidst the sea of conference attendees, Dr. Elizabeth Simpson stood, scanning the opulent surroundings with a mix of admiration and a creeping sense of unease. The weight of her veterinary conference badge felt unusually heavy against her chest, a stark reminder of the confrontation that awaited her.

Her husband, Randall, was at her side, his rugged, outdoorsman appearance slightly out of place in the hotel's refined elegance. He caught her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Nervous?" he asked, his voice low and steadying.

Elizabeth managed a half-smile, her eyes reflecting a complex mix of determination and apprehension. "Just ready to get this over with," she replied, her gaze drifting towards the grand conference hall where Dr. Jerome Raskin and the shadows of EquiGen awaited.

1.2

"Nope, not going to do it. I'm not going to make a scene in the first five minutes of the conference," Beth muttered under her breath, her resolve wavering for a moment as she surveyed the crowded meet and greet. The grand hall of the Bostonian Regal Hotel, usually reserved for lavish weddings and galas, had been transformed into a buzzing hive of veterinarians and equine specialists from around the world.

Randy, sensing her tension, gently steered her towards the array of refreshments lined up along one side of the room. "Let's grab something to eat first. You always think better on a full stomach," he said with a comforting smile.

As they made their way through the crowd, several attendees approached them. A tall woman with a friendly smile and a sharp Boston accent introduced herself as Dr. Emily Porter, a local equine surgeon. She was followed by a young, enthusiastic veterinary student from Chicago, eager to share his recent research on horse genetics.

Beth engaged in the conversations, her expertise and passion for equine care shining through despite the gnawing anxiety about confronting Dr. Raskin. She was a respected figure in the veterinary community, her knowledge and dedication evident in the way her eyes lit up when discussing treatment techniques and horse welfare.

Randy remained by her side, a silent pillar of support, occasionally chiming in with a question or a joke, easing the atmosphere. Despite the casual pleasantries, Beth's mind was elsewhere, her thoughts circling back to the looming confrontation with Raskin and the disturbing implications of EquiGen's work.

The meet and greet buzzed around them, a symphony of voices and clinking glasses, a deceptive veil of normalcy that barely concealed the undercurrents of tension and upcoming turmoil.

1.3

As Beth and Randy navigated the crowd, a striking figure caught their attention. Janice Worthington, in her mid-thirties, stood a few feet away. Her blonde hair cascaded in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her attire was impeccably tailored, exuding a confident charm. Beth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. With her mousy brown hair, minimal makeup, and practical clothes, she always felt slightly out of place in such polished company.

Janice's gaze settled on Randy, a playful smile dancing on her lips. She sauntered over, the confidence in her stride unmistakable. "You know, the one thing these meet and greets always lack is a good bourbon," she quipped, extending a manicured hand to Randy. "I'm Janice Worthington."

Randy, taken aback by her forwardness, managed a polite smile as he shook her hand. "Randy Simpson. And you might be onto something there."

Beth observed the exchange, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. She stepped closer to Randy, subtly marking her presence.

Janice’s eyes flicked to Beth, her smile never wavering. "And you must be the famous Dr. Elizabeth Simpson. I've heard so much about your work with equine rehabilitation. Fascinating stuff."

"Thank you," Beth replied, her voice polite but guarded. "I'm not sure about famous, though."

"Oh, but you are. In our circles, your name is quite well-known." Janice's tone was smooth, almost rehearsed. She turned back to Randy, her smile widening. "So, Randy, what brings you to this exciting world of equine medicine?"

"Just supporting my wife here," Randy answered, his arm instinctively wrapping around Beth’s shoulder.

"Ah, the devoted husband," Janice said, her laughter light and airy. "A rare breed indeed."

Beth forced a laugh, feeling out of her element. She glanced at Randy, who seemed equally uncomfortable with the attention. Janice, however, appeared completely at ease, as if this kind of charm was second nature to her.

1.4

At the back of the room, away from the hum of conversations and clinking glasses, stood the true stars of the conference – the equines. It was a tradition at these gatherings for veterinarians to bring examples of their latest work and discoveries. The area was like a showcase of the newest advancements and techniques in equine care.

Beth, eager to shift her focus from the uncomfortable interaction with Janice, tugged gently at Randall’s sleeve. “Let’s go check out the horses,” she suggested, her voice regaining a hint of excitement.

As they made their way through the crowd, the atmosphere changed. The air was filled with a different kind of energy, a mix of awe and respect for the magnificent creatures that stood patiently, attended by their proud caretakers.

Each horse was a testament to the skills and dedication of the veterinarians who had nurtured them. There were thoroughbreds with gleaming coats and perfectly trimmed manes, ponies with gentle eyes, and even a few rescue horses that had been rehabilitated to full health.

Randall, always at ease around horses, moved closer to a striking bay mare, his hand reaching out to gently stroke her neck. “She’s beautiful,” he remarked, his voice soft with admiration.

Beth nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning the other equines. Her gaze fell on a stall where EquiGen’s logo was prominently displayed. Inside, a horse with an unusually muscular build and intelligent eyes caught her attention. It was an impressive specimen, but something about it seemed unnatural, almost unsettling.

“These are the kinds of horses EquiGen is producing,” she said, a hint of disapproval in her tone. “They’re more like machines than animals.”

Randall looked at the EquiGen horse, his brow furrowing. “Doesn’t seem right, does it?”

Beth shook her head, her earlier unease returning. “No, it doesn’t. And that’s exactly what I’m going to expose.” Her determination was back, fueled by the stark reminder of why she was here.

Beth picked up the info sheet accompanying "Meadow's Luck," or Lucky as the groom had fondly called her. Randall leaned in, both of them scanning the document for details about the genetic engineering processes used in her creation.

The sheet read: "Meadow's Luck - A Pinnacle of Equine Genetic Engineering. Through advanced CRISPR-Cas9 gene editing, we have enhanced key traits for strength, endurance, and intelligence. Utilizing precise gene splicing techniques, we have incorporated select genes from the Przewalski's horse for robustness and from the Arabian for agility and speed."

Beth’s eyes narrowed as she continued reading. "Lucky also exhibits increased myostatin inhibition, a result of targeted gene modification, leading to her pronounced muscle development. This is complemented by the integration of certain equine growth factor genes, promoting exceptional healing abilities and overall health."

Randall whistled softly. "Sounds more like a science experiment than a horse."

Beth's expression was grim. "They're playing with nature. It's not just hybridization; it's creating something entirely new, something that's never been seen before. This kind of zygotic genome engineering and transgenic manipulation... it's unprecedented and ethically murky."

Randall nodded, his gaze returning to Lucky. The horse seemed calm, almost unaware of the radical alterations to her genetic makeup that made her stand out among her peers.

"They say she's one of the first of her kind," Beth added, her voice laced with a mix of awe and apprehension. "But where does it end, Randy? Where do we draw the line?"

As they stood there, contemplating the implications of what EquiGen was doing, Beth felt a renewed sense of urgency. She knew she had to take a stand, not just as a veterinarian but as someone who cared deeply about the welfare of these animals.

1.5

Beth picked up the info sheet accompanying "Meadow's Luck," or Lucky as the groom had fondly called her. Randall leaned in, both of them scanning the document for details about the genetic engineering processes used in her creation.

The sheet read: "Meadow's Luck - A Pinnacle of Equine Genetic Engineering. Through advanced CRISPR-Cas9 gene editing, we have enhanced key traits for strength, endurance, and intelligence. Utilizing precise gene splicing techniques, we have incorporated select genes from the Przewalski's horse for robustness and from the Arabian for agility and speed."

Beth’s eyes narrowed as she continued reading. "Lucky also exhibits increased myostatin inhibition, a result of targeted gene modification, leading to her pronounced muscle development. This is complemented by the integration of certain equine growth factor genes, promoting exceptional healing abilities and overall health."

Randall whistled softly. "Sounds more like a science experiment than a horse."

Beth's expression was grim. "They're playing with nature. It's not just hybridization; it's creating something entirely new, something that's never been seen before. This kind of zygotic genome engineering and transgenic manipulation... it's unprecedented and ethically murky."

Randall nodded, his gaze returning to Lucky. The horse seemed calm, almost unaware of the radical alterations to her genetic makeup that made her stand out among her peers.

"They say she's one of the first of her kind," Beth added, her voice laced with a mix of awe and apprehension. "But where does it end, Randy? Where do we draw the line?"

As they stood there, contemplating the implications of what EquiGen was doing, Beth felt a renewed sense of urgency. She knew she had to take a stand, not just as a veterinarian but as someone who cared deeply about the welfare of these animals.

1.6

Beth shivered, the sensation of déjà vu washing over her as she gazed at the horse before them. "You okay, babe?" Randy asked, concern etching his voice as he placed his strong hands on her shoulders.

"Yeah, just… feel a bit sick at all this," Beth replied, her eyes not leaving the horse. "She's a beauty though."

'Meadow's Luck,' or Lucky as they called her, was indeed a sight to behold. Beth's critical veterinarian eye took in every detail. The mare stood with a regal posture, her stance exuding confidence and strength. Her coat was a deep, lustrous bay, glossy and well-groomed, reflecting the overhead lights with an almost mirror-like sheen. It was clear she had been meticulously cared for, her coat free of any blemishes or scars.

Beth's gaze moved to Lucky's head, noting the well-defined, chiseled features typical of a high-quality breed. Her eyes were bright and alert, framed by long, neatly trimmed eyelashes, showing a keen intelligence. The ears were perfectly shaped, pricked forward attentively, indicating her alertness and curiosity about her surroundings.

Her mane was a cascade of rich, dark hair, flowing elegantly down her neck, groomed to perfection without a hair out of place. Lucky's muscular build was noteworthy; her shoulders were broad and powerful, leading to a deep, well-sprung chest. The musculature was impressive, more pronounced than in an average horse, hinting at the genetic enhancements she had undergone. Her legs were straight and strong, with well-defined tendons and clean, tight joints, ending in hooves that were well-shaped and solid.

"She's nearly perfect," Beth whispered, her voice a mix of admiration and a professional's critical assessment. "Look at her conformation, Randy. It's almost textbook – the ideal equine structure, with a balance of strength and grace. It's... it's unsettling."

Randy nodded, squeezing her shoulders gently. "She's incredible, Beth. But I can see what you mean. It's like she's been designed, not just bred."

Beth took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. "Genetic engineering at its peak," she said softly. "But at what cost?" Her gaze lingered on Lucky, a mix of professional respect and deep concern in her eyes.