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Authors: Brian Stableford
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but we must reluctantly
acknowledge that one of the basic features of the
chemistry of
reproduction is still a complete mystery.
"What we have discovered, though, is that the quiet DNA of many—perhaps
all—lower mammals includes genes which are expressed only in higher
forms."
I was having a little difficulty in following this, and had to pause
for thought, but I suddenly saw what he was getting at. "You mean,"
I said, "that virtually all the genes which code for the bodies of
humanoids were already in mammals when they first appeared on Earth—or Tetra— and
that the subsequent evolution of the mammals has been partly a matter of that
quiet DNA waking up."
He looked a little surprised.
"That's correct, Star-Captain Rousseau," he said. "In my
view, at least, that is a distinct possibility—although it remains as yet
unproven. The evolution of mammalian forms is, we think, partly pre-programmed.
The programme has to be adapted by natural selection to fit local circumstances,
but in essence, the evolution of intelligent hu- manoid life-forms on all the
worlds of the galactic community was inevitable from the moment the mammalian
gene-complex appeared there. The subsequent millions of years of evolution can
be seen as a kind of unfolding of potential already contained in the DNA-complex."
I found that a pretty startling thought. 673-Nisreen was still watching
me, and I realised that there was something else. Having impressed him with my
intelligence, I was now expected to see the next step in the argument. It took
me about a minute.
"And the story isn't over!" I said, getting excited.
"Ninety percent of human DNA—and Tetron DNA—is still quiet. We have no
idea what other possibilities are still locked up in our cells!"
"Indeed
we have not," he replied. "Nor do we know what trigger might be
necessary to bring it out. Our scientists thought, when they first invented
biotechnology, that we had become masters of our own evolution. It is possible
that the assumption was premature."
"So the garden isn't in full flower," I murmured. "We
might be just the first humble shoots, peeping up through the spring soil. We
haven't the faintest idea what it is that we're scheduled to become ... or
why."
"I must repeat my objection to your assumption that the galactic
arm has been deliberately seeded for some particular purpose," said
673-Nisreen. "Your image of godlike alien gardeners, while picturesque,
has no evidence to support it. It remains conceivable that some entirely
natural process was responsible for the spreading of this genetic material
through local space."
"Oh sure," I said. "It was probably a fleet of flying
pigs on their annual vacation." He didn't get the joke. There isn't a word
in parole for pigs, and even if there had been, it would have been taking
coincidence to ridiculous lengths if the Tetrax had used the phrase "pigs
might fly" as an expression of absurd improbability.
Humans came out of their own solar system to find superior aliens
already there, in the shape of the Tetrax. It was easy for me to jump to the
conclusion that there might be even more superior ones waiting in the wings.
The Tetrax had strong ideological reasons for not jumping to any such
conclusion. We humans had been anthropocentric in readily assuming that life
might have evolved on Earth, making us the product of a special Creation—even
though the Tetrax knew better, they had their own anthropocentric tendencies.
"If there are answers to these questions," I said, to cover
up for my momentary impoliteness, "I think we might find them inside
Asgard. There, I think, are
some very
good biotechnologists."
"I think that you might be right," said 673-Nisreen.
"And if the evolutionary future of your species and mine is yet to unfold
from our quiet DNA, then it might well be that in the lower levels of Asgard we
might find that potential already displayed."
He didn't seem to find this an overwhelmingly depressing thought,
perhaps
acknowledge that one of the basic features of the
chemistry of
reproduction is still a complete mystery.
"What we have discovered, though, is that the quiet DNA of many—perhaps
all—lower mammals includes genes which are expressed only in higher
forms."
I was having a little difficulty in following this, and had to pause
for thought, but I suddenly saw what he was getting at. "You mean,"
I said, "that virtually all the genes which code for the bodies of
humanoids were already in mammals when they first appeared on Earth—or Tetra— and
that the subsequent evolution of the mammals has been partly a matter of that
quiet DNA waking up."
He looked a little surprised.
"That's correct, Star-Captain Rousseau," he said. "In my
view, at least, that is a distinct possibility—although it remains as yet
unproven. The evolution of mammalian forms is, we think, partly pre-programmed.
The programme has to be adapted by natural selection to fit local circumstances,
but in essence, the evolution of intelligent hu- manoid life-forms on all the
worlds of the galactic community was inevitable from the moment the mammalian
gene-complex appeared there. The subsequent millions of years of evolution can
be seen as a kind of unfolding of potential already contained in the DNA-complex."
I found that a pretty startling thought. 673-Nisreen was still watching
me, and I realised that there was something else. Having impressed him with my
intelligence, I was now expected to see the next step in the argument. It took
me about a minute.
"And the story isn't over!" I said, getting excited.
"Ninety percent of human DNA—and Tetron DNA—is still quiet. We have no
idea what other possibilities are still locked up in our cells!"
"Indeed
we have not," he replied. "Nor do we know what trigger might be
necessary to bring it out. Our scientists thought, when they first invented
biotechnology, that we had become masters of our own evolution. It is possible
that the assumption was premature."
"So the garden isn't in full flower," I murmured. "We
might be just the first humble shoots, peeping up through the spring soil. We
haven't the faintest idea what it is that we're scheduled to become ... or
why."
"I must repeat my objection to your assumption that the galactic
arm has been deliberately seeded for some particular purpose," said
673-Nisreen. "Your image of godlike alien gardeners, while picturesque,
has no evidence to support it. It remains conceivable that some entirely
natural process was responsible for the spreading of this genetic material
through local space."
"Oh sure," I said. "It was probably a fleet of flying
pigs on their annual vacation." He didn't get the joke. There isn't a word
in parole for pigs, and even if there had been, it would have been taking
coincidence to ridiculous lengths if the Tetrax had used the phrase "pigs
might fly" as an expression of absurd improbability.
Humans came out of their own solar system to find superior aliens
already there, in the shape of the Tetrax. It was easy for me to jump to the
conclusion that there might be even more superior ones waiting in the wings.
The Tetrax had strong ideological reasons for not jumping to any such
conclusion. We humans had been anthropocentric in readily assuming that life
might have evolved on Earth, making us the product of a special Creation—even
though the Tetrax knew better, they had their own anthropocentric tendencies.
"If there are answers to these questions," I said, to cover
up for my momentary impoliteness, "I think we might find them inside
Asgard. There, I think, are
some very
good biotechnologists."
"I think that you might be right," said 673-Nisreen.
"And if the evolutionary future of your species and mine is yet to unfold
from our quiet DNA, then it might well be that in the lower levels of Asgard we
might find that potential already displayed."
He didn't seem to find this an overwhelmingly depressing thought,
perhaps
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