Tuesday
8/5/25
"This is the last stop on this train...everyone, please leave the train...thank you for riding with MTA New York City Transit."
I hurriedly jostled my way out of the train car and down the stairs from the platform to ground level, fighting with hundreds of other travelers as we all concentrated into the two stairwells. You get used to it after some time, decades of public transit teach you how to walk fast, stay alert, and fight for position. It was a dark and gloomy evening and the air was heavy from the numerous rain showers that had been interspersed throughout the day, Harley loves days like this, a perfect excuse to stay in and read a book with the sounds of thunder and rain prattling on the window panes providing a calming ambiance. I find them simply frustrating, I'm usually out, so I have to deal with being soggy, carrying an umbrella, and risking trench foot in a surprisingly deep puddle.
Nevertheless, I was on my way to Altons, and I was fucking hyped about it. I had a feeling that today would be one of those days that one looks back on ten years down the line, only to realize that it played a pivotal role in making them who they became. I had my genetic sequence prepared, and I was ready to begin my work. The trek to his house deep in Astoria was as miserable as I expected, I refuse to take buses unless it's an emergency, so I was left with hoofing it as my only option, just as I did the week prior. Only now, the rain was slowly building into a downpour. I was soaked, but the time I made it to Alton's cozy home. He met me at the door just as he had before and welcomed me in with a warm smile and a few exchanged pleasantries, the house smelled strongly of lilac this time, he clearly had a rotating cast of incense flavors.
"So, as I was saying over the phone, I'm a little busy today so I won't be able to stay with you and oversee everything, But I'll show you the proverbial ropes and pop in now and then to check up. I should be finished with my tasks by around nine or so, I can be more attentive then. Did you eat dinner? We can order something then if not. You can go change in the guest room if you like, I keep sweats and pajamas there in case of emergency, I'll toss your clothes in the wash. It's up the stairs, first door on the left." He spoke hastily and decisively, evidently trying to get it all out before rushing to attend to something. His hair was a bit frazzled, but otherwise he looked as casually put together as ever.
"Oh okay, thank you. Is everything fine?" I was still a bit taken aback by his generosity and openness, one felt a bit awkward having so much liberty in the home of someone who was basically a stranger.
"Yes, yes, don't mind me love, I'm a bit frantic with work at the moment, the market is a bit fucked. Give me a little, and I'll be back to give you the run-down." He finished his statement with a cursory glance at his smartwatch, and flipped through a few pages on it.
"No worries, I totally get it, I'll get changed and wait for you downstairs. Thanks again!"
"It's a pleasure, feel free to grab a beverage from the fridge if you like as well."
With that, he turned and padded over towards the rear of the first floor of his house, probably where his office was.
The "guest room" was beautifully appointed, with a centralized king-sized bed adorned by a suede headboard, and matching mahogany furnishings. The walls were decorated with a few small prints of flowers and countrysides, and the floor boasted a large taupe colored high-pile rug with abstract contrasting patterns. It even had a fucking en-suite. Alton was either new money, or this house was lovingly cared for and passed down to him. I parsed through the clothing in the six-drawer dresser before selecting a pair of white sweats and a matching tank-top from the "women's" side on the right, and getting changed into the fresh clothing. I spotted a hamper on my way out and deposited the wet jeans and oversized heather top I had been wearing. This was going to be an interesting night to say the least.
----
Alton met me in the basement lab about 30 minutes later, looking significantly calmer and more like the man I barely knew. He had changed into some black lounge pants and an olive green "jumper" as he would undoubtably call it. Even his hair was slickly tamed back. "I'm sorry about my behavior earlier love, the market is all kinds of messed up right now, and I had to liquefy some of my assets before they went too far into the red. I'm sure you know the feeling" He fumbled with his hair briefly before approaching me at the desk I was occupying. "So I guess the first round of business is to analyze your genome, right? Let's instantiate a version of Clara for you and plug in your data, It will serve as a good foundation for you to learn some of the systems here as well."
I stole a brief glance at the slightly intimidating server rack next to us before awkwardly replying. "Oh okay yeah for sure, let me just grab the data, I didn't realize Clara was modular like that." I took a minute to fish the thumb drive out of my purse and handed it over to Alton.
"Yes, she was trained on quite a few genomes of varying species before we... I plugged in my own. It's a relatively simple process, but the initial analysis takes a few minutes, three billion base pairs and all." He grabbed the drive out of my hand and took a minute to find a suitable USB port in the rack to plug it into, and pulled up a coding environment. "I'm assuming you have experience with Python?"
"Oh yeah, of course, I use the same IDE too, so that makes it easier." An IDE is just a simple workspace for developers to organize, test, and compile code, basically giving us a user interface to make life easier. I studied his actions as he typed in a few commands and moved data sets around between folders.
"Okay, cool, that was simply some initial setup, shouldn't have to repeat that too often. This is the interface for Clara, it's as intuitive as we could make it, just type in these commands and she'll get started on the analysis." He typed a few lines into the terminal and a progress bar materialized, then he copied them on to a notepad file and saved them to the documents folder labeled "Vi Init". "Okay, while that runs, let's do a more in-depth tour of the space and procedures."
Alton proceeded to give me an exhaustive overview of the processes involved and the minutiae of genetic engineering, as well as explaining the equipment I would be using at the beginning of my trials and how to operate it. I took carefully detailed notes in my book and tried to retain as much as humanly possible. He spoke in a way that tried to optimize for bandwidth, using as specific language as possible to convey the maximum amount of information in each sentence. It was efficient, but exhausting to keep up with unless you were also a part of the same niche community he was. I understood a good chunk of it initially, but I had a feeling my notes would prove to be an invaluable study guide going forward. The lecture continued for a solid half hour before the computer beeped on the other side of the room, clearly indicating its completion of the assigned task. "Oh okay, we'll finish up talking about organoids another time then, let us see what you've got in you."
We made our way back to the computer screen and Alton began to study the results. The content displayed had evolved from a basic writing tool and terminal, a full on UI had popped up, with the words "Analysis Complete" written above and a long string of phenotypes (physical expressions of genes) listed, along with their consequences and significances. Most of it was simple stuff it had inferred: Brown hair, brown eyes, AB+ blood type, male, but other inferences were seemingly more complex. Genetic predispositions to certain diseases and their relevant likelihoods and dependent factors. Apparently, drinking heavily a few times a week would make me 37% more likely to develop fatty liver disease in 10–20 years than the control group, that was good to know. Alton scrolled through the terminal for a second and flipped between a few pages.
"Great, so we have no errors of any sort, let's start with the fun! I'll export the preliminary results for you and push them to your flash drive. This dialogue box here is where you can communicate with Clara and submit instructions, it's a natural language system just like the others you may be aware of, but specificity is always helpful." He got out of the seat and motioned for me to sit in his place. "You said you wanted to start with your eye color, right, love?"
I took some time to rein in my emotions before sitting down and thinking through exactly what I would input. "Yes, a single gene change shouldn't be too difficult, right?". I did not wait for his response, and instead typed my request into the keyboard.
'Hello Clara, I would like my eye color to be green, please model the requested change and output the new gene sequence. Check for downstream errors as well please.'
The AI rapidly responded and began spitting out words at an unnatural pace. The whole output took less than a minute.
Hello, I've analyzed your request to change your eye color from brown to green. Eye color is largely influenced by several genes, primarily OCA2 and HERC2 on chromosome 15. The switch from brown to green typically involves reduced melanin production in the iris.
**Proposed Genetic Change:**
To change eye color from brown to green, we will need to introduce a polymorphism in the HERC2 gene, specifically at the rs12913832 locus. This SNP is associated with decreased expression of the OCA2 gene, leading to reduced melanin and green pigmentation.
Here is the edited sequence around the rs12913832 site:
Before (brown eyes):
...GAGTCAACCGTGAATCGGGGGAA...
After (Green eyes):
...GAGTCAACCGTGAATCGGAGAAG...
**Downstream Effects**
I've run a check for potential off-target effects, and here are the results:
1. Eye Health: No negative downstream health impacts identified. This change specifically targets eye pigmentation without altering vision or other eye functions.
2. Skin and Hair Color: No significant changes in melanin production elsewhere in the body. Your hair color should remain unaffected.
3. Immunity: There are no predicted interactions with immune system genes.
4. Off-target mutations: None detected.
The modification is safe to proceed based on current genomic data.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Reading the output sent my traitorous heart into overdrive, and I was driven to the brink of a panic attack. This was real, this was possible, this was fucking happening. I did not know if I was nervous, scared, or excited, all I knew was that my body was positively buzzing with possibility. I felt a consoling touch on my shoulder, Alton could probably tell I was going through something, I appreciated the comfort, even if it did little to settle my nerves. He took an audibly deep breath and spoke softly from behind me. "Shall we begin?"
I was finally able to settle myself enough to form a curt response, a slight smile escaping my lips.
"Yes."
----
We spent the next hour or three preparing the test setup, I wasn't going to just take a machine's word and inject myself without verification, of course. We swabbed some of my inner cheek cells and began culturing them in a Petri dish with a specific medium for rapid growth and placed them in an incubator, keeping some aside for use now. This way we could have a virtually unlimited supply when needed. With the cells that we kept behind we extracted the DNA from the Nucleus and isolated chromosome 15, we then identified the specific locus we would be working with and created a guide RNA sequence that would attach to the newly isolated nucleotides, this would serve as a guide for the enzyme CAS9 to find the sequence during the test, precisely cutting it and only it out of the chromosome. Finally, we methodically created the "repair template sequence" that would replace the cut sequence. The way the whole process works now is generally pretty simple. All we did afterward was take the newly engineered CAS9 enzyme and inject it into a cell we had not tampered with yet on a separate Petri dish, then we injected the repair template sequence into the same cell and gave the mechanisms time to work. Once the enzyme made the cut, the cell's natural repair procedure would kick in and replace the damaged gene with the one we provided, if it all worked well, this could be spread throughout the body using a specially engineered virus. For the singular cell, the entire process would take 1–3 days, so we labeled the prepared dish and placed it into an incubator along with the others that we prepared earlier.
By this point, it was around 9 pm, and we were both hungry and tired from our work, Alton fortunately did not have to dip in and out as he originally quoted, so I benefitted from the one-on-one tutoring session. We settled on ordering in some food from a ramen spot he assured me would "make me too jaded to eat any other ramen" and I happily caved to the suggestion, interest fully piqued. With the day's activities mostly concluded, he poured me a generous glass of wine, and we sat on the comfortable living room couch. I allowed him a little time to unwind in quiet comfort, he clearly had a stressful day, judging by his behavior earlier.
"So what's your story love" I emphasized the last word in a mocking jab. "How does one develop such a diverse skillset?"
He chuckled lightly at the insult and turned his attention to me, having been staring at his phone for the past few minutes. "I'm afraid it's not too dissimilar to what you'd expect, I had a typical childhood in Bristol and went to Cambridge for software engineering at my father's behest, as you know. I moved to the states after his death and bounced around different startups over the years, eventually landing on the one that produced the early version of Clara. It was originally intended as a research tool for medicinal applications, developing novel drugs and the like, I took a version of it home with me when I left and modified it into what it is now. Took me about a year or so, but the overall product is powerful. I learned the biology and chemistry stuff in my spare time, as you have been. I was just too fascinated by the whole process not to learn."
"And you took your earnings and bought this lovely home? You don't exactly seem of the age to settle down quite so hard." He wasn't young by any means, but the man in front of me couldn't be more than 40 at most, his face was unserious, and lacked the wrinkles and weathered appearance of most men above that age.
"I mean, I can always sell it if I decide to pick up and leave town, the equity alone would let me live comfortably for quite some time, but regardless, I'm older than I look. I haven't just been keeping Clara locked in my basement for no good reason after all. Care to take a guess?" He gave me a devilish smile and leaned in, affording me the opportunity to really scrutinize his appearance.
He couldn't be over 45, could he? "42?" I guessed, the number an obvious nod to The Hitchhiker's Guide, and a compliment as to how good he looked for his presumed age.
His grin deepened into a full on smile and his eyes darkened. "Not too far, I'm actually 53 chronologically, but biologically I'm closer to 40." I haven't done too much per se, at least nowhere near as much as you intend to do, you honestly might have the most realistically far-fetched aspirations I've heard so far. I usually speak with either transhumanists aspiring for full on cybernetic enhancement, or laymen who accuse me of playing god.
I felt my gaze widen at the revelation, and I'm sure my face betrayed the same thing to him. That was fucking impressive, and only served to reinforce my determination, the wine helped as well, of course, it removed most of the reservations I had about my future, should I choose to pursue these goals to completion. "Very impressive, may I ask what you've done?, I don't mean to pry of course, share of your own volition."
He took this moment to deepen the suspense, reaching to his coffee table to pull a cigarette out of his pack before lighting it, and offering me one in return. I happily obliged, lighting my own to set the mood. "Like I said, nothing major, it started off with a personalized skin care routine based off my genetics, then we tacked on some custom supplements to reinforce the effect later, most recently I started dabbling with enhancing GDF11 in certain areas of my body using light-activated-CRISPR, a little goes a surprisingly long way. The light activation part of the process really helps fine tune the results too, over expression of the gene can result in abnormal tissue growth, I'm sure you've researched it as well."
He was right about that assumption for sure, but it was only a cursory part of my readings, while useful eventually, my plans were much more drastic and short term, I'd figure the rest out later. I took a long drag of my cig and studied him. He was the first person I'd ever spoken to that had actually modified their own genome, and I was on the hunt for side effects, the only thing I could really put my finger on was the slight uncanny valley effect of his skin, it was too smooth, to polished for even a man in their 40s, as he appeared to be. The facial structure hinted at it, but the skin made it seem like he had some sort of work done, he looked fantastic on the surface level of course, only a more in-depth look at him would reveal the disparity. "Okay then, so you clearly know what you are doing, how would you rate my chances?" The question was loaded, and we both shifted ever so slightly as the tension in the room rose around us. I leaned back in my overstuffed seat as he parsed the question deeply and settled on an answer.
"If you do things properly and don't get too ambitious, I believe it's going to work, at least in the short term. But you will need to keep a close eye on your physical condition and tweak expression to ensure that your side effects are manageable. The edits you want to make in the long term as not so simple, there will be unintended consequences, it's up to you to regulate them. Can you handle that?" He looked at me deeply as he spoke, and his voice adopted a more serious tone than I'd ever heard him speak in.
The overall effect was enough to leave me shrinking in my seat ever so slightly, but I rallied and met his gaze. "Yes, I came into this knowing it wouldn't be easy, smooth, or pleasant, I am determined and ready to ensure my success. I would, of course, appreciate supervision though, especially in the beginning to set me on the right track, don't go easy on me. We both know how serious the ramifications could be."
The smile that escaped his lips during my last statement was nothing short of vampiric, and for some reason, it boiled my blood in the best way possible. Maybe it was the controlling nature of it, or the fact that it was a man genuinely being interested in what I had to offer him aside from sex was unknown to me. All I knew was that it was heavy, and laced with presumption. He reined in his behavior with a puff of his cigarette and responded in a calm and even tone. "Of course love, I am not in the business of risking harm to my investments, I'm here to empower you to achieve your dreams, and reap the rewards. If that means spending a few hundred hours with you in the lab, that's a small price to pay. I'm beginning to enjoy your company, nevertheless, you have a drive to you that I admire."
Fair enough, I honestly couldn't argue with his intentions, or pretend that he was here simply for my greater good, our relationship was transactional and that was more than fine with me. The last statement, however, only served to add fuel to the flame that was currently burning in me, what could he possibly mean by that? There was no chance that he was actually beginning to care about me as a person, right? I took a long swig of my wine and followed it up with another puff of my cigarette, enjoying the time it allotted me to formulate a coherent response. "I signed up for this knowing full well what I was getting myself into Alton, the consequences are in no way lost on me, but if we will be working so closely together we might as well get to know each other properly, right? What drives you?" I spoke as casually as I could muster, he'd gotten under my skin a bit, and there was no way I would allow that to reflect on my behavior.
He took his time analyzing me, clearly searching for signs of weakness in my body language, I relaxed in my position, trying to convey the strength and determination I felt on the inside, the effect was evidently not lost on him, he seemed satisfied and continued his line of questioning. "So what are you going to do when you finally get what you want Vi? Walk away? Or will you keep striving towards some other ideal?"
"Future Vi will not have the same ideals as I do, just as past Vi didn't have the same as current Vi. These will always be ever shifting goal posts. I'm certainly going to stop at some point, but the ideal is just that, a goal that will never be truly achieved. I've come to terms with that, but that doesn't mean I can't work towards it. I intend to do as much as I can within reason to become the person I was destined to be."
He once again seemed satisfied by my answer and took a final drag of his cig before putting it out and turning back to me with what I now knew to be his characteristic stare. "Well said, now onto lighter topics if you don't mind, I'd like you to spend the night in the guest-room after dinner if possible. It's getting late, and I know you have a long commute back to Brooklyn, I'd rather not be responsible for any mishaps that may befall you on your way home.. Is that okay with you?"
The look on his face was one of genuine concern, not for a prized commodity, but simply for my well-being, I appreciated the gesture more than he could imagine. Life at home wasn't exactly easy at the moment, so I would be more than happy to exchange my bed for more peace and quiet, not to mention the fact that I'd been dreading the late commute home as well. I opened my mouth to accept his offer and was promptly cut off by his doorbell ringing, signaling our dinner's arrival. We both put our cigarettes out, and he got up to retrieve the food.
He came back in with the food a minute later and led me to the dining table. It wasn't a room per se, but rather a corner of the large open-concept living room right off the kitchen, the large wooden table seated six and the well cushioned chairs allowed for a relaxed setting. I sat on one of the short sides, and he seated himself opposite me and began quietly unpacking the dinner, placing multiple containers before me, and before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing the both of us some nicer chopsticks and spoons. "I hate the little takeaway utensils, use these." He handed me the implements, reseated himself, and began combining his wet and dry ingredients in the spacious bowl.
I followed suit, taking his lead and carefully dumping my noodles into the broth bowl, I finished by adding in the meat and vegetables, mixing the ingredients together, I gave the noodles a minute to fluff up and spread apart in the broth. My first bite was a bit hesitant, not wanting to take any chances and burn my tongue on the hot food, I was quickly rewarded by a wonderful concoction of flavors and textures. The rich, spicy broth warmed my body and soul, and I let out a barely audible sigh of satisfaction as I began devouring my meal. Every bite and mouthful was amazingly complex, and the richness of it all left me wanting more and more, no matter how much I ate. I've had plenty of ramen in my life, none compared to what sat before me at this moment.
"I told you, this restaurant puts all others in the city to shame." His boast was confident and well deserved. He smiled warmly as he watched me enjoying the deeply flavorful meal.
"Fair enough Alton, I am more than convinced." I spoke softly in between mouthfuls, trying my best to remain classy despite myself.
The rest of the meal proceeded quietly and without fanfare. We both ate our fills and I allowed him to remove the waste containers from the table while I sipped on my glass of wine in deep satisfaction. He returned with a fresh bottle and refilled both our glasses before reseating himself across from me with a grin.
"Unfortunately, it is growing rather late, and it has been a long day on my side, so I will not be able to keep you company for much longer tonight. But I do want to speak to you a bit more before bed, I find your dedication fascinating. Why do you want this so much, why go to such extreme lengths? You're an attractive young woman, and you seem to have your life figured out. Why risk it all?" His face showed genuine empathy and a desire to learn.
I allowed the question to hang in the air while I gathered my thoughts to formulate a response, and sipped from my glass. "I honestly don't know anymore. I just never truly felt complete in my transition, no matter how far I've come, that brain-body disconnect remains. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of myself, and happy to have been as lucky as I have been thus far. But I feel like it's just not enough, it never feels like enough, I desperately want nothing more than to be normal, yet my reflection serves as a constant reminder that I'm not, I'm accepted, but I'm still an other."
"You're not an other Vi, and I understand that it's difficult for you to see that, but at some point you are going to have to come to terms with who you are and learn to accept that to some degree. You can certainly make it easier, that's why you're here of course, but what you feel inside cannot be remedied purely with external gratification. You need to do the internal work as well." His body language conveyed a sense of internal comfort, as if he was trying to lead by example.
I sighed heavily and took another long sip of wine, draining the glass and meeting his deep, penetrating gaze. "I get that, but I feel like I avoid the internal work as a safety mechanism, I hurt myself emotionally so that nobody could possibly hurt me as much. I critique and insult my own appearance so that I never allow myself to falter in that regard, if I get too comfortable I'm afraid that I will leave myself too vulnerable."
He followed my example and drained his as well, he reached across the table to gently take my hands in his. "It's okay to be vulnerable, and it's okay to leave yourself open to others. So what if they hurt you? That's what humans do, do you think cis women aren't insulted and harassed on the daily? Do you think they don't scrutinize themselves because of it? There's an epidemic of insecure young women because of social media and societal pressures, you're not alone in this Vi. In fact, your struggle is more common than you may think. Sure, some of your concerns aren't as common in the general world, but the overarching dysmorphia is the same. You're not alone."
His words were powerfully poignant and damn near brought me to tears, he was right, of course. I have no need to be so hard on myself, yet I still am. I am not as different from those I aspire to be, yet I label myself an other to lessen my standing. "Thank you, I don't think you know how much I appreciate your words and kindness."
He returned my gratitude with a warm smile and let the conversation drop. "Of course love, now unfortunately I should get ready for bed, the wine is making me too loose I'm afraid. Are you going to spend the night?"
"Yes, of course, I appreciate your generosity." I got up from my chair and helped him clean up our empty bottles and glasses of wine.
"I'm glad to hear it, please make yourself comfortable, the guest room is available to you if you ever need it. Sleep well V." With that, he finished tidying up the kitchen, gave me a little wink, and headed upstairs.
I took a few minutes downstairs to settle myself down and pulled out my phone to shoot Harley a quick message before heading to be myself.
Sleeping at a friend's house tonight, I'll be home tomorrow after work. Love you.
12:52 AM