Gene Mapper Read Online Free

crimson the way it did at the FAO? Or would he turn white and clutch his spherical gut?
    “Gene Analyst. Task complete?”
    I am completing my analysis of the data using the Oryza template. The data includes a complete natural genome for Oryza sativa subspecies japonica.
    “Sativa japonica?”
    Oryza sativa japonica was a family of rice cultivars formerly grown on islands off the east coast of Asia.
    So the plant that had invaded Mother’s sanctuary was a legacy cultivarvulnerable to red rust. I couldn’t fathom how this might have happened, but as long as I could demonstrate that the sample had no connection with the genome I delivered, I’d be in the clear.
    “Gene Analyst, search the file for Mamoru Hayashida.”
    Found. There is a crop header in the file 070939-collapsed-SR06 with this name. I will display the header.
    The very data I was praying I wouldn’t see scrolled across the workspace. It was the header for SR06.
    VENDOR: L&B CORPORATION/FLO CERTIFIED
    PRODUCT: SR-06/FLO CERTIFIED
    VERSION: 6.01.5
    CONTRIBUTOR-PUBLISHER ACCOUNT: ENRICO CONTI @ L&B CORPORATION
    And bringing up the rear, in the position of honor …
    FINAL EDITOR: MAMORU HAYASHIDA
    There I was. Enrico was listed too. He had been the project manager.
    This DNA wasn’t just a mix of insect and legacy plant DNA. DNA from SR06 was present too. The second round of samples would prove this was no case of gene collapse. But either way, I had to find out exactly what was contaminating Mother Mekong’s site.
    “The intruder.” That’s what I decided to call it. How was I going to go about collecting information? TrueNet would probably have almost nothing helpful.
    The Lockout hit two years before red rust. The collapse of the Internet not only wiped out nearly all of the world’s server data, it erased most data on personal computers and phones.
    That was in 2017. I still remember the day it happened: the streams of meaningless characters on my mother’s monitor and the live news broadcasts with no text inserts. The rolling blackouts. My father coming home early from work and watching television for weeks.
    In high school I took a class on the history of technology and learned that the Internet’s biggest search engine had gone bonkers, hijacking every computer it could reach.
    It took several years to get a new network up and running. That was TrueNet, and it was no Internet free-for-all. All programs and data on TrueNet are closely vetted and administered. Nothing nonessential is allowed. After red rust and the great famine hit five years later, most of the legacy rice plant data accumulated over the years was no longer very useful, and very little of it had made it onto TrueNet.
    Still, there was plenty of data out there. The problem was getting to it. I needed a specialist—a salvager. That meant another Kurokawa meeting.
    If all I needed was authorization for another DNA sample or Mother’s cultivation logs, a text would have been enough. Finding the right salvager was going to be more complicated.
    “What a mess …”
    Since I hit thirty, I’d been talking to myself more. Then again, my workspace was the only “one” who heard me.
    “So we’re back to the Internet.”
    I sent Kurokawa my distress rocket.



2    Café Zucca
    “Meeting someone? Care for a magazine while you wait?”
    I lowered my iced espresso and saw the Perfect Smile above a blinding white shirt.
    She knew how to strike a pose. Lean in at an angle, shoulders cocked, chest out, forearm parallel to the floor with a basket of magazines on her elbow. And The Smile. My cast member waitress was real, but what I was seeing was her avatar.
    This was the first time I’d called a meeting with Kurokawa at Zucca. It was a popular spot. For the price of a drink you could hang out at the cutting edge of augmented reality. The place was close to packed out, but most of the customers were avatars logged in from outside. When I walked in, the physical café was fairly