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"In here we ran a rag on the bio population, and found the same three-hundred-fifty-six genes present in about fifty-two percent, which, assuming..." The age-wrinkled aFra was a formidable presence, her sheer force of will rippling in the white lab-coated assistants around her, like wind in the leaves of trees. Some were younger aFra, the clones seemingly her youthful, perky blond "daughters", others bio-humans of different backgrounds.

"Excuse me," though the Corporate Technology Officer was the superior by several ranks, of a mere technically-trained aFra, that's all Dr. Baines was, a senior aFra, he found himself using a deferential tone in her lab, "A 'rag'?"

"R. A. G. Regressive Analysis Genetic. Pardon the word order, it's from a foreign language originally. It's an enhanced tag method..." she looked at his confusion, sighed, "Take any large sample size of genecodes, run a Targeted Analytical Genetic T. A. G. scan through them with a regressive algorithm, to identify the probable original genecode of the earliest evolutionary ancestor."

"And these genes are his genetic fingerprint?" CTO Hassam was no 'braindead manager' who understood only money and rules. He prided himself on being able to cut to the heart of technical matters and remove the kernel of truth within, and Dr. Baines knew this, which was why she was speeding along, a little too fast for even him.

"To use a crude analogy, yes, they are the remnant of the bog."

"The Biological Original Genitor?" he strained to remember the acronym.

"The Biologic Original Genesource. Of the Adam Theory."

"That everyone is descended from a single common male ancestor."

"Who lived on planet Aiers. That is the theory."

"Which turned out to be about half the population?"

"Fifty-two percent, yes. So, we confirmed it was a real individual, and the rag composited these original genes, spread over twelve sequences, which we infer must be his."

"The genes of one man, in half the population, numbering his descendants..." the CTO marvelled.

"More than that. Standard aFra incorporate twenty-three percent of them, unknowingly. Azphar, all of them."

Hassam started. Even Dr. Baines did not have access to the genecodes of combat-grade aFras! "And you know this how?"

The old woman snorted, "Any genetics lab worth its salt can take a blood sample of one of its guards."

"Bloody shit..." he muttered, making a mental note to have a few words about revising security procedures with certain managers he had direct control over, and the Corporate Security Officer himself. Maybe a lunch. At a facility stocked with dance and erotic-trained aFra, CSO Nareem was fond of places like that, and would be more amenable to his suggestions...

"These genes were found in the genecode of Shiks produced by Kasparov, even W.K. Corp Composites..."

His hair bristled. "That knowledge is not to leave this room!" he hissed soft as a snake, "Official Azimuth policy is that, as far as we know, composites are merely drones, one-hundred percent mechanical, so our security forces can terminate them by any means necessary!"

"Understood. The higher-grade the- 'clone', the more genetic sequences she has in common with the bog. My preliminary analysis is that this is because they confer physical and psychological traits benefical to heavy labor and combat, and so were most likely selected unknowingly by their designers."

"What kind of traits?"

"Increased muscle density, sexual fertility, both of which would have served the bog and his descendants in producing many offspring, and those offspring surviving to produce more. Also, I suspect psychological traits, a tendency towards action without requesting additional information, sexual aggression..."

"You mean they follow orders without asking questions?"

"...maybe," she thought, "With conditioning."

"So these genes were put in aFras because it made them more... compliant to orders?"

"Yes, those sequences of the bog genecode are present in aFra and Shik, however, this could just as easily lead to taking action without sufficient information."

"So a 'leap before you look' mentality?"

"Possibly. Psychological traits are difficult to determine just by looking at raw genecode. One reason for taking this research to Stage Two. "

Now we come to the crux of this meeting, mused Hassam. The 'I'd love to continue this research into crazy idea X, if only I had ungodly amount of money Y, and freighter-loads of resources Z.' part. At least Dr. Baines wasn't the type to avoid getting to the point. She didn't seem to like wasting time any more than he did. So if she wasn't beating around the bush, he wouldn't either.

"What are the other reasons?"

"The other reason being, we're not entirely sure of the bog's race. I theorize the genetic sequences belong to the extinct homo kanovkus, but others seem to be another race, potentially a hybrid, a- 'cross-breed' if you will, between two pre-cataclysm races."

"You mean he was a Kanov?"

"Half-Kanov. That would fit with the genetic sequence for increase muscle density."

"He could just as well been half-robusto," said a scowling woman with a black ponytail tied back tight, her face settling into an unconscious lip bite by a prominent inscisor, "There's your increased muscle." Her lab coat read [Krum], an old Ork family name.

"Unless he was half-sapiens," said a dark-haired man at a nearby terminal, its screens glowing Azimuth-blue. His lab coat read [Chavez].

"Why not half-sylvestrii, for all we know," said a tall, long-faced man, lab coat reading [Llwellyn], old Elf family name.

Dr. Baines circled the room with a wolfish 'I didn't ask you' stare into silence.

Of course, CTO Hassam smiled wryly to himself, good old bias. Each researcher wanted Bog to turn out to be one of his own.

"You see our dilemma," Dr. Baines led him on to another chamber, whipped her palm at the lock's scanner as if ordering it to open immediately, "Which is why we created... this."

In a plexiglass cylinder - a maturation chamber - a large, well-muscled man floated in watery incubation fluid, the umbilical barely rendering modest what lay between his legs. Long hair waved like black kelp beside encephalon wires in his skull, over ancient facial features not seen in over a thousand years - heavy-boned, big-nosed, severe, but serene with "sleep" - for now.

"You cloned Bog the Barbarian??"

Dr. Baines sighed, "To put Stage Two in simplistic terms... yes."

'Leap before you look' indeed.

Description
"In here we ran a rag on the bio population, and found the same three-hundred-fifty-six genes present in about fifty-two percent, which, assuming..." The age-wrinkled aFra was a formidable presence, her sheer force of will rippling in the white lab-coated assistants around her, like wind in the leaves of trees. Some were younger aFra, the clones seemingly her youthful, perky blond "daughters", others bio-humans of different backgrounds.

"Excuse me," though the Corporate Technology Officer was the superior by several ranks, of a mere technically-trained aFra, that's all Dr. Baines was, a senior aFra, he found himself using a deferential tone in her lab, "A 'rag'?"

"R. A. G. Regressive Analysis Genetic. Pardon the word order, it's from a foreign language originally. It's an enhanced tag method..." she looked at his confusion, sighed, "Take any large sample size of genecodes, run a Targeted Analytical Genetic T. A. G. scan through them with a regressive algorithm, to identify the probable original genecode of the earliest evolutionary ancestor."

"And these genes are his genetic fingerprint?" CTO Hassam was no 'braindead manager' who understood only money and rules. He prided himself on being able to cut to the heart of technical matters and remove the kernel of truth within, and Dr. Baines knew this, which was why she was speeding along, a little too fast for even him.

"To use a crude analogy, yes, they are the remnant of the bog."

"The Biological Original Genitor?" he strained to remember the acronym.

"The Biologic Original Genesource. Of the Adam Theory."

"That everyone is descended from a single common male ancestor."

"Who lived on planet Aiers. That is the theory."

"Which turned out to be about half the population?"

"Fifty-two percent, yes. So, we confirmed it was a real individual, and the rag composited these original genes, spread over twelve sequences, which we infer must be his."

"The genes of one man, in half the population, numbering his descendants..." the CTO marvelled.

"More than that. Standard aFra incorporate twenty-three percent of them, unknowingly. Azphar, all of them."

Hassam started. Even Dr. Baines did not have access to the genecodes of combat-grade aFras! "And you know this how?"

The old woman snorted, "Any genetics lab worth its salt can take a blood sample of one of its guards."

"Bloody shit..." he muttered, making a mental note to have a few words about revising security procedures with certain managers he had direct control over, and the Corporate Security Officer himself. Maybe a lunch. At a facility stocked with dance and erotic-trained aFra, CSO Nareem was fond of places like that, and would be more amenable to his suggestions...

"These genes were found in the genecode of Shiks produced by Kasparov, even W.K. Corp Composites..."

His hair bristled. "That knowledge is not to leave this room!" he hissed soft as a snake, "Official Azimuth policy is that, as far as we know, composites are merely drones, one-hundred percent mechanical, so our security forces can terminate them by any means necessary!"

"Understood. The higher-grade the- 'clone', the more genetic sequences she has in common with the bog. My preliminary analysis is that this is because they confer physical and psychological traits benefical to heavy labor and combat, and so were most likely selected unknowingly by their designers."

"What kind of traits?"

"Increased muscle density, sexual fertility, both of which would have served the bog and his descendants in producing many offspring, and those offspring surviving to produce more. Also, I suspect psychological traits, a tendency towards action without requesting additional information, sexual aggression..."

"You mean they follow orders without asking questions?"

"...maybe," she thought, "With conditioning."

"So these genes were put in aFras because it made them more... compliant to orders?"

"Yes, those sequences of the bog genecode are present in aFra and Shik, however, this could just as easily lead to taking action without sufficient information."

"So a 'leap before you look' mentality?"

"Possibly. Psychological traits are difficult to determine just by looking at raw genecode. One reason for taking this research to Stage Two. "

Now we come to the crux of this meeting, mused Hassam. The 'I'd love to continue this research into crazy idea X, if only I had ungodly amount of money Y, and freighter-loads of resources Z.' part. At least Dr. Baines wasn't the type to avoid getting to the point. She didn't seem to like wasting time any more than he did. So if she wasn't beating around the bush, he wouldn't either.

"What are the other reasons?"

"The other reason being, we're not entirely sure of the bog's race. I theorize the genetic sequences belong to the extinct homo kanovkus, but others seem to be another race, potentially a hybrid, a- 'cross-breed' if you will, between two pre-cataclysm races."

"You mean he was a Kanov?"

"Half-Kanov. That would fit with the genetic sequence for increase muscle density."

"He could just as well been half-robusto," said a scowling woman with a black ponytail tied back tight, her face settling into an unconscious lip bite by a prominent inscisor, "There's your increased muscle." Her lab coat read [Krum], an old Ork family name.

"Unless he was half-sapiens," said a dark-haired man at a nearby terminal, its screens glowing Azimuth-blue. His lab coat read [Chavez].

"Why not half-sylvestrii, for all we know," said a tall, long-faced man, lab coat reading [Llwellyn], old Elf family name.

Dr. Baines circled the room with a wolfish 'I didn't ask you' stare into silence.

Of course, CTO Hassam smiled wryly to himself, good old bias. Each researcher wanted Bog to turn out to be one of his own.

"You see our dilemma," Dr. Baines led him on to another chamber, whipped her palm at the lock's scanner as if ordering it to open immediately, "Which is why we created... this."

In a plexiglass cylinder - a maturation chamber - a large, well-muscled man floated in watery incubation fluid, the umbilical barely rendering modest what lay between his legs. Long hair waved like black kelp beside encephalon wires in his skull, over ancient facial features not seen in over a thousand years - heavy-boned, big-nosed, severe, but serene with "sleep" - for now.

"You cloned Bog the Barbarian??"

Dr. Baines sighed, "To put Stage Two in simplistic terms... yes."

'Leap before you look' indeed.