Chapter 19 11-1

The Nantucket-style houses, with their dark wood panels and wide white balconies, seem to have slid three hundred miles forward on a certain stratum dip and stopped abruptly on this California hill facing the Pacific Ocean.There is no logic to why it looks so well matched with the surrounding landscape.The entire house sits on the front half of an acre lot, shaded by stone pines, exuding the strength, elegance, and harmony of the sweet family within. All the windows were dark, but in a few moments lights would come on in a few.Rosalina.Ramirez would be up early to prepare a hearty breakfast for her son, Manuel, who would soon be home from two consecutive police shifts, if he hadn't had paperwork related to the death of Chief Stevenson in the line of duty. Words of delay.Since Manuel was a far better cook than his mother, he would have preferred to cook his own breakfast, but he would eat everything she prepared for him, and admire her cooking with relish.Rosalina was still asleep in the former master bedroom of her son, Manuel, whom he had not slept in since his wife died giving birth to Toby.

Next to the spacious backyard stands a small barn with the same color panel as the house, and each window is equipped with a wooden casement window.Because the entire house is located in the southernmost corner of the city, it has direct access to mountain biking trails and open mountains; the original owner once raised horses in the barn.Now the cabin has been turned into a studio, Toby.It is here that Ramirez builds his glass world. I approached slowly through the thick fog, and saw lights shining through the windows.Toby usually wakes up before sunrise and heads to the studio to work.Leaning my bike against the barn wall, I walked over to the nearest window.Olsen put his front feet on the window sill and looked into the house.

Whenever I come to see Toby create, I usually don't go into the studio.The fluorescent lights on the ceiling are too bright for me.In addition, the production of glass products must use a high temperature of more than 200 degrees Fahrenheit, and the high degree of strong light emitted during the process will cause damage to anyone's eyes, not just me.If there was a break in Toby's workshop, he'd turn off the lights in the room, and we'd usually have a small talk. At the moment, Toby is wearing a pair of goggles with lenses containing a mixture of rare earth elements, sitting on a work chair in front of a glass blowing table, and in front of him is a Fisher-Price multi-flame incinerator.He had just completed a pear-shaped vase with a slender neck, and the vase was still hot, shining with gold and red luster; now, he was going to start the strengthening process.

When the glasswork is suddenly removed from the flame, it cools too quickly, often resulting in a pressure imbalance and subsequent rupture.In order to achieve the purpose of preservation, all glass art must go through a strengthening process, that is, staged cooling.The flames are powered by natural gas connected to the glass blowing table and compressed pure oxygen in barrels.During the glass strengthening process, Toby must gradually reduce the supply of pure oxygen to lower the temperature and give the glass molecules enough time to transfer to a relatively stable molecular composition state.

Due to the multiple dangers involved in the process of glass blowing, many people in Moonlight Bay believe that it is quite irresponsible for Manuel to allow his son suffering from Down syndrome to engage in the creation of arts and crafts that require local skills. power.Some people predict that sooner or later, there will be a fire, while others can't wait to see what happens. At first, the person who opposed Toby's hobby most was Manuel.For fifteen years, the barn had been used as a studio by Manuel's brother, Salvador, a leading glass artist.Toby spent a lot of time with his uncle Salvador since he was a child, watching the work of the master with his goggles on, and occasionally passing the glass vases or bowls that were about to be or completed the strengthening procedures once or twice wearing heat-resistant gloves.Although most of the time he seems to have a glazed-eyed, smirking, trance-like appearance, he has actually learned the skills of making glass art without a teacher.To overcome intellectual disabilities, mentally handicapped people usually need more patience than ordinary people.Toby sat in his uncle's studio, day after day, year after year, watching and learning.When Salvador died two years ago, Toby, then fourteen, asked his father if he could continue his uncle's work.Manuel didn't take his words seriously at all, but just politely said that the young son should not be unrealistic.

Until one day before sunrise, he suddenly found Toby alone in the studio.A simple family of swans sits on a pottery potholder at the end of the work table.Beside the glass swan stood a newly-made vase that had been strengthened. The carefully calculated and mixed impurities formed a mysterious blue-black vortex, accompanied by dots of star-like silver brilliance.Manuel could tell at a glance that the work was on par with the best in Salvador; while Toby was in the process of enhancing another equally astonishing work. The young boy absorbed the art of glassmaking from his uncle, and despite his mild mental retardation, he clearly knew how to take the proper procedures to avoid work-related injuries.

It also has something to do with genetics, because he has a talent that cannot be learned. He is not just a craftsman, but an artist, maybe not just an artist, but an artistic genius. For him, the inspiration of the artist and the craftsmanship of the craftsman are like the tide hitting the shore. From Moonlight Bay and Camberia to gift shops as far north as Carmel, Toby's glass art is a popular selling point.In a few more years, he might be able to support himself. Sometimes nature throws a bone to those she has amputated, and the writing skills I have developed are another living example of that.At this moment, in the studio, the fortified stove was emitting a raging orange-red flame, and Toby turned the pear-shaped vase carefully so that it could evenly receive the tempering of the flame.

He has a thick neck, chubby shoulders, proportionately short arms and stubby legs. He looks like a Buddhist spirit in a storybook who guards the flames deep underground. Coarsely raised eyebrows.Flat nose bridge.The ears are set too low, the head is too small and the body is somewhat out of proportion.His fuzzy facial features and inner double eyelids make him always have a dreamy expression.But when he sat in the high work chair, carefully turned the glass, adjusted the oxygen supply with intuition and precision, his face was glowing with reflected fire, his eyes were hidden behind the goggles, Toby looked the same from any angle. Not like a mentally handicapped person, and in my eyes he was not at all frustrated by his disability.On the contrary, judging from the look on his face when he was creating, he seemed quite high-spirited.

With a low whimper of alarm, Ourson lowered his front foot off the ledge and turned his back on the studio in a cautious crouch. I turned and saw a shadow walking towards us across the backyard.Although it was dark and foggy, I recognized his identity at a glance from his leisurely walking posture, it was Manuel.Ramirez, Toby's father, is the second person in the Moonlight Bay Police Department, but at least for the time being, he has been promoted to the number one person because of the sudden death of his boss. I put both hands in my pockets.The right hand holds the pistol tightly. Manuel and I have always been good friends, and I don't want to point a gun at him, and I certainly wouldn't shoot him.Unless he is no longer the old Manuel.Unless, like Stevenson, he was a completely different man.

He stopped eight or ten feet away from us.The orange flames of the fortification furnace came through the adjacent window, and I could see Manuel still in his khaki uniform, his pistol in the holster hanging from his right hip.Although his fingers were only lightly hooked to the gun belt as he stood, he could still draw his weapon quickly before I could draw my pistol. "Are you out of duty?" I asked, although I knew the answer was no. Instead of answering, he said, "I hope you don't expect beer, tamales and Jackie Chan movies at this time." "I just stopped by to say hello to Toby if he happened to be available."

Manuel's face had the vicissitudes of a man over forty, but his features looked naturally friendly.Even under the spooky lights of this Halloween atmosphere, his smile still gives people a sense of sincerity and reassurance.From my vantage point, the only light in his eyes was the firelight reflected from the studio window.Of course, the reflected fire might well have overshadowed the animal gleam I saw in Stevenson's eyes. Ourson no longer adopts a defensive squat position, but he remains on high alert. Unlike Stevenson, Manuel showed no signs of anger or violence, and his voice was as gentle and pleasant as ever. "You did not show up at the police station as promised after you called." I thought about how to answer this question, and finally I decided to tell the truth: "Yes, I went." "So. When you called me, you were already nearby." He guessed. "Right around the corner. Who's that bald guy with the earring?" Manuel thought it over and finally decided to adopt the same strategy as I did to be honest. "His name is Carl Skoltso." "Then what is he made of" Total scum.How far do you have to pursue it before you are willing to let it go? " "I don't want to pursue anything." He was silent, with a look of suspicion on his face. "It started off with a lot of ambition," I confess, "but now I know I failed." "Sounds like a whole new Chris Snow." "Even if I get in touch with the higher authorities or the media outside, my understanding of the whole situation is limited and it is not convincing at all." "And you don't have any proof." "There is no concrete evidence. In any case, I don't think they will allow me to get in touch with the outside world. Even if I really find someone to come here to investigate, when the investigators arrive, my friends and I must have already Just die." Manuel didn't answer, but his silence was the best answer.He might still be a baseball fan, still love country music and Yassant and Castello.Like me, he understands the limits of life and understands the twists and turns of fate.He even still likes me H is we are no longer friends.Even if he couldn't bear to shoot me himself, he would watch others do it to me. An inexplicable melancholy filled my chest. I had never felt such sticky depression, which made people almost nauseated. "The whole police station is in the same boat, isn't it?" There was no smile on his face and he looked very tired.When I saw the look of burnout on his face instead of anger, I knew he was going to tell me something he shouldn't have told me. Because of guilt, he must not be able to hold back all the secrets. I had already guessed that he might tell me about my mother, and I hated hearing that more than anything, and would have walked away immediately, which I almost did. "Yes," he said, "the whole police station." "Including you." "Oh, my friends, especially me." "Couldn't you be infected with the virus from Fort Werwin?" "Using the word 'infection' is not entirely correct." "But that's about it." "Everyone else in the police station gets it, but I don't, or at least I don't think I do, not yet." "So for those people, maybe they don't have a choice, but you do." "I decided to cooperate because the outcome probably has more good than bad." "A result like the end of the world?" "They are actively trying to fix the mistakes that have been made." "Is it going on somewhere under the grounds of Fort Weaver?" "Plus other places there, yes. If they figure out a way to fight it...then it's going to end well." he said.Gaze sideways to the window of the studio. "Toby," I said. Manuel's eyes came back to me again. I said, "This thing, this contagion, whatever it is—you hope that by their mastery of it, you'll help improve Toby's situation." "You're not selfish about it yourself, Chris." On the roof of the barn, a headhunter asked five consecutive identification requests, as if everyone in Moonlight Bay was suspicious. I took a deep breath and said, "This is the only reason why my mother is willing to do biological research for the military, the only reason, because the results of the research are likely to cure my XP disease." "And this result is still hopeful." "Is that a project about weapons research?" "Don't blame her, Chris. Even a small weapons research program has billions of research dollars behind it. She'll never have the chance in her life to do research like this for a legitimate reason. This kind of research is too expensive .” This is absolutely true.Only the military weapons research program can provide a steady stream of resources to sponsor the mother to develop her profound academic ideas.Vestalia.Jane.Woodbury.Snow was a brilliant genetic theorist.That is to say, she is good at theoretical thinking, and then uses her theory for other scientists to practice.She rarely spends time in the laboratory or in the computer simulation room, her brain is her laboratory, and it is well-equipped.She proposes theories, and under her direction other scientists try to prove her theories. I said she was brilliant, and she was just super brilliant, and she lived up to her name.With her talent, she could choose to teach in any famous university in the world.Although my father loves Graytown College very much, as long as she is happy, he is willing to follow her wherever she wants to go.With his talent, no matter what academic institution he goes to, he will not be rejected.She tied herself to Graytown mainly because of me.Most of the top universities are located in large or medium-sized cities, and there I would have as much room to move during the day as I would have stayed in Moonlight Bay, but I would have no hope of a colorful nightlife.The few dark corners in the metropolis are by no means a safe place for a young boy to explore on his bicycle between sunset and the city. In order to let me have a richer life, she did not hesitate to sacrifice her own development space, confining herself in this small town, willing to waste her own potential, just to let me have the opportunity to realize my potential. At the time I was born, the technology of testing embryos for genetic diseases was still quite backward.If the analytical instruments at that time were advanced enough, my XP syndrome could be detected a few weeks after conception, and she might not have given birth to me if I knew it earlier. I love the beauty and weirdness of this world.Because of me, the world is going to be weirder — and maybe less beautiful — in the next few years. If it wasn't for me, she would never agree to devote all her energy to the plan of Fort Werwin, let alone guide them on a new path to change the world.And we will not follow this road to the precipice where we are now. Olson stepped aside and let Manuel stand by the window.He stared at his son, his face was full of brilliance, from his eyes, I couldn't see any strange light, only the all-inclusive father's love. "Enhancing the intelligence of animals," I said. "What does that have to do with military use?" "Suffice it to say, what better dog than a human being, smart enough to be sent to the enemy's front as a spy? They don't need any camouflage, and no one will check the dog's passport. No one is better than them It is more suitable for detection work on the battlefield." Perhaps new breeds of superdogs could be developed that combine human intelligence with ferocious aggression when necessary.In this way, the military is equivalent to an additional new force, a biological and chemical killing weapon with strategic resourcefulness. "I thought IQ was mostly related to brain size." "Don't ask me, I'm just a cop," he shrugged. "Maybe it has something to do with the number of wrinkled strokes in the cerebral cortex." "That's clearly not what they're working on. Anyway," said Manuel, "there was a pioneer project called something called Project Francis, years ago. Superb Golden Retriever. Werwin Castle is operating as a result of that plan. And Werwin Castle is not only working on improving the intelligence of animals, they are also working on human IQ improvement, and other things, and many other things things." In the studio, Toby puts the vase, which is extremely hot while wearing oven gloves, into a bucket half full of frogstones, the second stage of the strengthening procedure. I stood next to Manuel and asked, "How many kinds of things are there? What other studies are there?" "They want to increase the agility, speed, and longevity of humans, not only through genetic transfer between humans, but also between different types of animals." different kinds of animals. I heard myself say in surprise, "Oh my God." Toby poured more granular vermiculite into the plug until the entire vase was covered as end.Vermiculite is an excellent thermal insulator, allowing the glass to continue to cool slowly at a constant rate. I think of Roosevelt.As Foster said, he said that these dogs, cats, and monkeys were not the only experimental subjects in the Wervenburg laboratory, and there were worse things. "Man," I murmured. "They use people as guinea pigs." "Active servicemen who are court-martialed and convicted of homicide, or inmates in military prisons who are serving life sentences. They end up dying anyway in prison... as long as they participate in this program, they are paid for their freedom. " "But using people as experiments..." "I suspect your mother didn't know these things at all. They didn't tell her every application of her theory." Toby must have heard our conversation, because he took off his gloves, lifted his goggles, winked at us, and waved. "They screwed up the whole thing," Manzu said. "I'm not a scientist, so don't ask me how it got screwed up. But it wasn't just one thing that went wrong, there were many things that went wrong." They stumbled at their own door, and suddenly everything was different from what they had expected. Completely unexpected changes happened one after another, including the animals and prisoners used as experimental products. Guilty—unwelcome changes in their genetic makeup that they cannot control..." I waited a while, but he obviously didn't intend to tell me any more.I tried to talk to him: "A monkey once escaped, it was a rhesus monkey, and it turned up at Angela Freeman's house." Manuel turned to me with searching eyes. From his sharp eyes, I knew he saw right through me.What Jili was thinking, he knew what tricks were playing in my head, and he even knew exactly how many bullets were still in my pistol. "They recaptured the rhesus monkey," he said. "They treated the monkey's escape as human error. They didn't know that it had been deliberately released, and they had no idea that there were some scientists among them. It's starting to... change." "Turn into what?" "It's just... changing, becoming something new, something constantly changing." Toby turned off the natural gas, and the Fisher-Price incinerator swallowed the flames. "How?" I asked Manuel. "In order to introduce new genetic genes into animals or human experimental products, they developed a gene delivery system... Unexpectedly, that system developed independently and completely failed to obey." Toby turned off the lights on the ceiling, leaving only one so that I could visit inside. "Some of the scientists involved in the experiment unknowingly infiltrated the genetic material of another animal, and as a result some people began to develop animal-like traits," Manuel said. "my God." "Maybe it was too similar to animals, so there was an episode... I don't know the details, but I heard that the scene was very hot, and some people died because of it. All the animals in it either escaped or were released." "The monkeys." "Including nearly a dozen very intelligent and fierce monkeys, yes. But also cats and dogs ... and nine human prisoners." "Didn't they all be captured later?" "Two criminals were killed while resisting arrest, and the military police asked us for help, and that's what infected most of our colleagues in the police department. But the other six criminals and all the escaped animals...were never caught .” The little barn door opened and Toby stepped out. "Daddy?" He walked over quickly and gave his father a tight hug.He smiled at me, baring his teeth, and said, "Hello, Christopher." "Hi Toby." "Hi, Orson," said the boy, and he let go of his father, knelt down and greeted the dog affectionately.Ourson also liked Toby so much he let him pat him on the head. To Manuel, I said, "There's a whole new batch of monkeys. They're not as aggressive as the first batch. Or...they haven't shown any signs of violence so far. Each one has a radio transmitter attached to it." Reporters, that is to say, they were released on purpose. What is the purpose of doing this?" "In order to find the first monkey and report their whereabouts. They are very tricky and flexible, and all attempts to find their whereabouts have failed in the end. This method is a way out of no way, trying to find a large number of monkeys in the first monkey. Stop action before breeding. But that doesn't work either, it creates another problem." "And the reason for this problem may not be because of Father Tom's obstruction." Manuel watched me for a long time. "You know a lot, don't you?" "I don't know enough and I don't know too much." "You're right, Father Tom wasn't the problem. Some monkeys ran to him for help, others bit each other to get the radios out. These new monkeys... they weren't violent, but they were too violent." They are too clever, and finally become ineffective, and they want to fight for freedom, no matter what the cost." Toby hugged Orson and repeatedly invited me: "Christopher, come in and play!" Before I could answer, Manuel interjected, "It's almost dawn, Toby. Chris has to go home." I looked at the eastern sky, and the thick fog prevented me from seeing the graying night sky in the east. "We've been good friends for many years," Manuel said. "I feel like I should give you some explanations, and you have always been kind to Toby, now you know enough, and I have done my best as a friend, maybe I have done too much for you, which can be reflected now went home." Before I noticed, he had put his right hand on the pistol in the holster. "You and I, we will never watch Jackie Chan movies together again in the future." He was telling me not to come to him again.I don't expect to continue our friendship, but I might come back to see Toby once in a while.However, not now.I called Orson to my side, and Toby couldn't bear to let him go. "Maybe I can tell you one more thing," said Manuel, as I reached for the handlebars of the bicycle. "Friendly animals with enhanced intelligence, including cats, dogs, and a new breed of monkeys, who know their origins. Your mother...well, you might call her a legend to them...their creation Or...almost God in their mind. They know who you are, so they respect you very much, and they will never hurt you. But the original monkeys and most of the modified people...even if they have some Like the way you have become, they still hate your mother very much, because they lost their original self, the reason they love you is simple, one day, they will take revenge, revenge on you, revenge on everyone who is close to you people." I nod.I have actually experienced the situation he described and taken some actions. "Can't you protect me?" He didn't answer.He put his arms around his son.In this emerging Moonlight Bay, family ties may remain for a while, but the concept of community support has long since been shaken. "Is it impossible? Or do you not want to protect me?" I couldn't help asking. Before he could prevaricate with silence, I continued, "You never told me who Carl Skosso was?" I was referring to the bald man with the earring who had apparently transported his father's body to Castle Werwin An autopsy in a working laboratory underground. "He was one of the first prisoners who signed up to participate in the experiment. The damaged gene that caused his previous crazy behavior has been found and removed. He is no longer a dangerous person. It should be regarded as one of their few successful examples." I watched him, but couldn't figure out what was going on in his mind. "He killed a passerby and gouged out his eyes." "No, the passer-by was killed by a monkey. Skosso just happened to find the body on the road and brought it to Sandy. The California coast runs north and south, and now many people simply cannot pass the level of Moonlight Bay.” "And you turn a blind eye to these things?" "I'm just following orders," he said coldly. Toby put his arms around his father, as if protecting him, and showed me a displeased expression, dissatisfied with my aggressive tone asking his father.