iGEMers guide to SynthBioPunk

The aim of this blog is to share snippets from the lives of people who live in a world where Synthetic Biology has integrated seamlessly into their everyday lives. We get to see how everyday things such as food, health, fuel, advertising, pets, entertainment and clothing have been revolutionized due to advances in this field. We also get to see the state of The Registry.

Intertwined with these aspects that apply to the general population come the personal stories of the characters involved:

K. is a biopunk working for a beer company and doing some tweaking in his spare time. He complains about a lot of things, but also embraces the perks that personal augmentation can bring. Underneath this seemingly bland life he hides a noble purpose, showing that even the little guys can dream big and, if they try hard enough, their dreams might see the light of reality.

A. started working for the Department of Health and Security after many low-end jobs and is tasked with making sure that synthetic biology is not abused. A bioterrorist attack has already happened in the past, so the government is doing its best to prevent such a tragedy from ever repeating itself. She is trying to fight the good fight while constantly being amused by how the simple things in life have changed.

S. is a child who marvels at all the wonders Synthetic Biology has brought us, and can enjoy these things without having to worry about how it all works underneath the surface and what ramifications its misuse can have.

We follow these stories that culminate in an event that will change the lives of the characters forever - whether it be for better or for worse will be up to you, the reader, to find out.

9:30 AM, The Aftermath, The Future

A.

I watch from my lab as the new department sets is gears in motion. They are good people - people I shared the vision of developing world-changing devices with during a summer at University. It amuses me to see that even though we never got out bio-electric interface to work, the industry took to the idea and developed it into what is now an indispensable piece of technology that is found everywhere. Maybe this time we can actually change the world for the better, given the resources and time Boss has graciously put at our disposal.

There is a nagging feeling of guilt in my brain - I stopped receiving my free beer shipments after the incident at the conference - could it be that K. actually went to that conference? He always used to make fun of me for enjoying attending and talking at such occasions, said it did not fit his style and he’d rather find out about advancements from the web. I still send him invites from time to time just to grief him. Then again, I haven’t talked to him in years and boy, can a lot of things change in a few years. Biohackers turn into heads of department and heads of department turn into corrupt biopunks.

And the great wheel of life keeps turning.

9:47, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.

The pain is all that remains. Crawling in a puddle of my own blood I’m on the verge of losing consciousness. At least they ignore me now, and the pain is starting to go away. I close my eyes and fall into the warm cloud of my own thoughts. Is it my fault? I wanted to change the world for the better, give people the freedom they deserve. I started my own DIY lab, I had plans for the future, everything was supposed to turn out fine. But not anymore.
I didn’t ask for it, I never wanted to be a self-proclaimed freedom fighter. But someone has to when the knowledge and technology is taken away from the people. Is this the consequence of my own choices and actions or of the very thing I was fighting against - the laws and restrictions that were supposed to stop slaughters like this one?
As I cease to feel my legs I hear a voice saying "you owe me one mate" and loud sirens somewhere in the distance. I try to reach for the nameless murderer but he disappears as I hear a gunshot. And another, followed by a loud cannonade. It doesn’t matter. I’m already dead. Someone drags my body, the body of a deadman. My clothes are being ripped off, the sirens seem to fade and get louder at the same time.
I feel wet drops on my bare skin, rain falling down on my shoulders. It's raining... It always rains in hell.

3:20 PM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

‘This is how it will be - I will keep working for you, doing what I’ve been doing for the past five  years while you will fund a new department to develop cheap, easy to administer implants that ward people from the most common pathogens. I’m tired of seeing so many people suffer from the things whose existence most of us have nearly forgotten about already. Nothing can help make up for the lives you’ve taken but at least you can give some other people their lives back, or a chance to live at all.’ The pharmacology industry could have done this years ago but that would have meant that nobody would be paying them lots of money for the well-established, easy to afford drugs, so they’ve been heavily subsidizing our other projects to stop us from doing it ourselves.

‘Silly girl, you have no right to make demands of me, it is my money and I can do what I want with it. I own you, too, and I could make sure you will stay silent about this. Permanently.’

‘Actually, you’ll find that the money comes from the taxes people pay. They were paying you to protect them and instead they paid for their own deaths. And as I said, get rid of me and the consequences will be dire.’

After a long moment, he realizes that he is defeated. Might as well cut his losses and give in, this can only end badly for him if he tries to outsmart me, and he knows it. ‘Very well’ , he says, ‘I await a list of candidates you suggest for this department. Leave now.’

3:12 PM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

Once I’ve recovered from my bewilderment at what’s been going on under my nose, I start to think of what else I could do to not only prevent this from happening again but also to actually reverse this somehow and turn it into something good. I knock on Boss’ door, poker face on, good thing I’ve done as much public engagement as I’ve done biology.

‘Enter’, a voice ragged from so many cigars, says.

I stroll in, walking slowly but with a lot of determination in each step, my face calm as the most placid lake. I sit down, place the evidence in front of him, and say ‘I know everything’.

A quick glance at the documents, a split second of fear in his eyes, then that smile, that horrible, reassuring corporate smile creeps across his face as he reaches for the button to summon security.

‘Wait. Get rid of me now and soon everyone will know how you’ve been using them as guinea pigs. Let’s be civilized about this. Let’s talk business.’ My voice didn’t even shake, not once, that’s good. His hand hovers over the button for a few seconds before returning to the desk. At least they put someone clever in charge.

9:38 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.

It’s too late to run now, the harm is already done. As the latent toxins become activated I feel the infection unleashing its full potential upon my body. The stinging pain in my stomach nearly paralyses me as I fall to the ground and beg for death. The thin fog of the protein activating gas spreads throughout the conference centre. More and more people fall into violent convulsions, some of them start spitting and vomiting blood. Everyone reacting in a slightly different way, each organism trying to fight off the pathogen. There’s a morbid beauty in all this. I try to crawl towards the exit, hoping that it’s not too late for me, that maybe I can be saved. 
I feel a glimpse of hope as I see people in hazmat suits enter the building. They look around, I cannot distinguish the words they're speaking but as they walk further into the building, ignoring the carnage, it doesn't take me long to realise what's going on. They are here to use the chaos caused by the outbreak of the microbes. This was a precisely planned attack and now they are harvesting the crops. God knows what their target is, nevermind the collateral damage. Maybe that’s my chance, they don’t care whether I live or die, so I try to crawl past them. One of them gets closer and kicks me in the stomach. The pain is overwhelming, the blood I vomit covers my body and hands...

2:24 PM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A. 

This has to stop, now. Countries should be working together on preventing any dangers to their people, not secretly working on ways of developing weapons of mass destruction and testing them out on their own people - or any people, for that matter. I thought that after the fuel crisis was solved, there would be nothing more to war about. Old habits die hard, I guess. 
What should I do with this newfound information? If I run to the Biohazard Trust, there is a large chance Boss has some story ready with which to frame me and pin this all as my doing; that would be the end of the road for me and I’d get to sit in a cell for the rest of my life, at best. If I sit here and pretend to be none the wiser, my own personal integrity will be at stake. There must be a golden mean. And there is, I just need to copy these files onto several chips and give them to people I trust with the instructions that they should go straight to both the Biohazard Trust and every major media outlet as soon as none of them hear from me for more than a week.

9:35 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.

The presentation was interesting but I cannot say I have learned anything new. Just the usual discussion about safety and concerns about new technologies. It's the same as 20 years ago, it's going to be the same 20 years from now. Still, I find it useful to keep up to date with the way that scientists view the public. What I’m really looking forward to is the presentation in the afternoon. A big corporate fish is going to present the results of his research on stem cells and the rumour has it that he even brought some top secret samples for demonstration. A bit reckless, I’d say, but who am I to judge.
The problem is that after the talk I feel weak and nauseated and all kinds of horrible. A good opportunity to complain some more about the way people handle microbes but it's already a full time hobby for me and I’m here to relax. As everything is pretty much ready for the highlight of the conference,  I notice that I’m not the only one groaning in pain. More and more people are shaking and becoming overwhelmed by weakness. Something’s not right here. 
As the symptoms become more violent and people start to cough blood I realise that the poisoning wasn’t accidental at all. I'll be lucky to leave the conference with my internal organs not turned into a bloody pulp.

2:00 PM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

I can’t believe this - I’ve worked here for five years and they just took every bit of research my department has done on preventing and remedying the release of harmful organisms, turned it on its head and mixed it up and said ‘Hey, let’s see what would happen if we tested these on unsuspecting idiots’. I guess that’s one way of modeling what would happen in the event of an accidental or deliberate release. What a sneaky way of doing it too, always assigning someone else to inspect these outbreaks so nobody gets suspicious. And here I was, thinking I’m fighting the good fight and stopping all those garage biopunks that parents scare their children with (Eat your vegetables or the biopunks will take mommy and daddy away), when the real enemy was signing my paychecks with a smile on its face, cigar in mouth and expensive whiskey in hand. Let the world burn, just a little at a time, if it means a more secure future. A future for whom, should their plans go awry and a deliberate release can’t be contained?

8:30 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.

I refocus my thoughts onto the present and look around the conference centre.I can tell that if my tax money is going to get wasted, it might as well be be wasted on something like this. The flashy hall sends a clear message: science is everywhere and in everything, and synthetic biology is the major player. Not the only one, obviously, but it was ‘the next big thing’ not so long ago. And it would still be flourishing if it wasn't for the fear coming from the public. Even when it's impossible to define "the public" because nearly everyone knows a little bit about the basics of genetics. I guess it just makes it easier to manipulate people. Information doesn’t give you power unless you know how to use it.
With these thoughts I sit in the lecture theatre, feeling like a young student again, ready to absorb the knowledge that speaks to you from every corner of the room. Or you know, get wasted and pass out in a bed not necessarily my own. I lean back as the room starts to fill and we're being served fresh tea and coffee. "Thermobacter infused" of course. A bunch of hypocrites, keeping bacteria with real potential locked away while they fill their stomachs with this junk. It's better than water I guess, especially when I don't know where it came from.

1:32 PM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

This doesn’t seem right. Apparently the coffee was checked and given the green light. The system has only failed to detect something particularly obscure a handful of times, but most of those mistakes were noticed and the products were recalled before release. This Ebola sequence, on the other hand, was completely unmodified (except for the replication augmentation segment), there is no way that our sequencers would have missed that. Maybe the machine was faulty, I should consult the engineers tasked with its maintenance.

Their preliminary systems diagnostic is back, apparently that machine has shown several faults over the past two years. Why was I not informed of these malfunctions? I cross-check the dates of the malfunctions with suspected or confirmed bioterror attacks. They all coincide. This certainly presents an interesting conundrum. These accidental releases were either caused by genuinely faulty machinery (why wouldn’t they just replace it after several mishaps?) or someone deliberately did this. Good thing I have a high security clearance, it should let me access all the encrypted records. You’d think that with such a high requirement to keep meticulous notes of absolutely everything that happens, someone would actually read those reports and would have noticed this long ago. I guess some things never change and lab records will just sit in some server, gathering virtual dust.

8:15 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.
As people start filling the lecture theatre I can't help noticing their bored faces, taking the science for granted. And I keep thinking about the other day, when I took the risk and leaped into the new chapter of my life.

Wearing a white lab coat I walk at steady pace, not looking behind. Act normal, pretend that I know what I’m doing and why I'm here. Well, I do know this but I'd rather not have other people realise. Fortunately for me, the hospital is full of students and staff so blending in shouldn't be too much trouble. Getting a security clearance wasn't easy but I know people, even though I can hardly call them my friends.
I find the lab I was looking for - it's so clean and tidy that it's scary. Quite empty as well, I guess it's my lucky day. Now I only need to find the storage freezer and be on my way back home.
Except some guy is walking towards me.
- Excuse me, but...
I shove my papers to his face and hope he's too young to be important around here.
- I'm in a little bit of hurry here so please stop bothering me.
He's clearly puzzled, good for me.
- I...yaa, I just thought you might show me where we keep the competent cells, since you're going to the freezer anyway...
Jackpot! He's new here and maybe I can push my luck a little further...
- Sure, do you at least remember where the stem cells stocks are? The cells you need should right next to them.
- Yes, of course, I saw people working with them before and...
- Yes, that's great, why don't we just get you some.
My heart is pounding, I can barely hear my own thoughts. I think karma is catching up with me for the whole riot mess because I actually found some competent cells as well. I grab some stem cells and enzymes and let the guy go back to his work. He'll never know...

8:14 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

K.

As I settle into my seat and watch the people running around trying to get this show started, I think of the stuff I've done over the last few days. It took a while to get over the shock of what happened in that alleyway, but, as all things, that passed too.

I've finally managed to start working again. Whatever happens I just don't think I can throw the eppendorfs into the bin and start a new life. Shit happens but life goes on and I cannot swim against the current of events. I go with the flow instead and see what happens. Sometimes I'd rather close my eyes but I always believe that in the end it's going to be worth it.
The show must go on, I swallow some pills with a carefully picked hormone cocktail to keep me awake. It's not exactly legal but then again, what is these days? I wouldn't even be able to get any alcohol at a decent price if I wasn't working in BeerGen. I don't think I can screw up my body and mind any further just with some simple chemicals. And for some reason I could never stand caffeine except the small dose that comes with my favourite tea. 

I set up a few overnight experiments and look up some data on the web. People from the network haven't even noticed my recent absence. Everyone is busy with their own work and I can't blame them for it, especially when I can get loads of useful protocols and tips from their experience. It feels nice to get back into the game.  

11:14 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

An engineered Ebola virus with a highly augmented replication speed inside Thermobacter. And it only starts to replicate after a high temperature shock. It could have been stored like that for who knows how long, then all those people just getting their morning kickstarter wake it up. Within a few minutes, it infects their white blood cells and liver cells, knocking out the body’s defence and detox mechanisms. Within a few more minutes, the body induces its own destruction and dies a horrible death. I’d call it ingenious if it weren’t so damned morbid. If whoever made it would have focused their efforts on something that could be beneficial instead, they would probably be working in their own state-funded lab, not in some garage somewhere. The problem is that this will be very hard to contain - not everyone drank their coffee on the spot as soon as they bought it and this thing can propagate through blood and coughs, spreading it to those who don’t even like coffee. At least we've got containment teams doing their best to stop it spreading too far.. How the infected Thermobacter got past security sequencing, I can’t say. I will get a report of where the coffee  (and tea, might as well check all hot drinks) came from shortly, maybe that will elucidate things.

8 AM, That Fateful Day, The future

K.

Time to dust off the old suit and polish the shoes. It seems that my self-justified criminal career has taken me really far away from the lifestyle most people call normal. I may remain cynical and sarcastic as much as I want but I can't deny that I miss events like this. A science conference may sound boring but it's an opportunity to meet unique people and have some real conversation, something that both the internet and the virtual reality simulations are still lacking. I'm a bit weary of the invitation though. Even though they get piled up on my desk every week, there is something ominous about getting one for an interesting conference just when I started working in the field. "What defines humanity? Dangers of stem cell research and bio-augmentation". The price I pay for the tickets is small, just a few beers once in a while open many doors for me. It's kind of sad how I think of my friends though, just another asset that can be used from time to time. Maybe a lecture about humanity is just what I need. Either way I've been locked in my man-cave for way too long. I can't miss such an opportunity to catch up with both my past and future life at the same time. Maybe I'll feel the same excitement that once accompanied me in the lab, maybe I'll hear about some genuinely exciting advance. Either way it's worth a try.

9:48 AM, That Fateful Day, The Future

A.

I run out of the lab, out of the building, across the street, past some person coughing their lungs out (not literally), into the mall across the road. It’s a monster of a building, hosting offices, shops, restaurants, even a large conference hall. Get in the elevator, push the button. The screen lights up: ‘Based on previous purchases, we think you might like this skirt, which is now on sale at XBlack’. Screw you elevator, stop telling me what to wear. ‘To the funeral of humanity’, a dramatic voice in my head says. I chuckle at the thought. If each suspected bio-terror attack would turn out to be truth, we’d all be dead by now, several times over. They told me to act casual, there’s no reason to incite panic when we don’t know what we’re up against. I casually step out of the elevator and see that several people have, not very casually, fallen over, coughing up blood. So it’s true, the coffee had indeed been spiked with modified Thermobacter. I wish I could have at least worn gloves. Gloves, a breath mask, an entire goddamn hazmat suit. I’m not keen on getting killed by something some junkie high on god knows what biosynthesized crap cooked up in order to rid the world of the human pestilence. I hold my breath and hurriedly step back into the elevator. Hopefully, this thing isn’t airborne as well. ‘Lock down the street and send in a team’, I tell the Boss over the phone as I run back across the street and into the building. ‘Have them bring me a cup of that coffee, I want to see what this thing is capable of’. (‘How do you take your coffee?’ ‘With a smattering of death, please’. Oh, brain. Focus.)

11:24 PM, The 9th of August, The Future

K.

That was one wild night I will never forget. I'm not sure if I quite believe in what happened. People dying in a glimpse of an eye, me nearly becoming a part of organised crime... What have I gotten myself into? Maybe my friends were right when they told me I shouldn’t get involved in any of that “outlaw biology”. Get a job, pay your bills, act normal and obey the law. Leave your dreams behind, accept the world as it is, an immovable object. Instead I left behind my friends and their opinions, believing synthetic biology to be the irresistible force able to change the foundation of the world.
Maybe I was wrong, maybe not, the game is not over yet. Either way, until now I had no regrets. But that fateful night might have changed everything. I don’t know what I’m standing against, I don’t know who to trust and I cannot fight this battle alone. What is right and what is wrong when I’m standing against both the law and the outlaws? What if while walking among shadows I’ll turn into a shadow of a human being just like the nameless gunner from the other night?
Maybe it is the time to give up?
Never.

7:42 PM, The 7th of August, The Future

A.

It is beginning to dawn on people that if they clone their deceased pets, they will only get their old companion back in shape but not necessarily in behaviour. As such, companies that offer pet cloning are starting to come up with other ways of making money, such as producing glow-in-the-dark pets (rabbits make for great fluffy nightlights!) or developing your favourite type of animal with a cocktail of growth factors that alter its physical shape to make it look like something from a fantasy novel or a sci-fi movie. Gruesome as that sounds, they swear it does not harm the animals and that the side effects of exposure to these growth hormones is minimal. Animal rights groups, of course, are having a field day with this whole thing, but their protest budgets have got nothing on the amount of cash the companies are forking in for each dragon-dog or alien-cat they sell.

I personally don’t have the time to take care of a pet that requires a lot of attention, so I limit myself to fish - the walls in my house all have strips of transparent, heat stable plastic in them which serve as aquariums for all kinds of glowy and colourful fish. My house reminds me of the lighting on runways at night. 

11:10 AM, August the 2nd, The Future

K.

I wasn’t prepared for that! The cops are still only a few steps behind, I can hear them shouting. I can’t outrun them, I can barely see, my  augmented vision is jammed, I’ve got to figure something out fast. I try to find a way through but its a dead end. There is some sort of ledge on the right, if only I can get the right grip... Hell! It’s all so slippery after the rain. Now there’s nothing I can do, with all the noise I made there’s no way I’m gonna get away.
- I told you to stop when you had a chance! Now it’s gonna hurt.
The first one did. I’m not sure if I could feel the next ones. A hit to the head leaves only silence. Then a sudden gunshot. Warm blood starts covering my jacket. Yet I feel no pain, I hear voices, I can see the light... It’s not my blood for god’s sake! There’s someone else in the alley, holding the gun. The voices get louder and more real as I regain consciousness.
- Alex! Isn't that the guy you were talking 'bout?
Someone shakes my arm as I start to recognise the familiar face next to me.
- You alright, mate?
- Yeah, I'm good.
Of course I'm bloody not. I just saw a cop get gunned down. What the hell! And Alex seems to be with the guy. What's going on?
- You know, we could probably use someone like you, you're a biohacker right? - the man with the gun asks me casually, completely ignoring the dead cop.
- Uh, wha? Yeah, look I really need to go back home, get my shit together.
Who the hell is this guy and why would I want to have anything to do with him?!
- Sure, you know where to find Alex, right? You owe me one mate.
Slowly walking away, it's time to end this madness. And I think I need to find a new dealer.

18:48 PM, August the 3rd, The Future

A.

DIY biology has really become part of all our lives. If you want to do something with bacteria, there is probably a protocol for it somewhere and if there isn’t, you can just ask for help online. I mean, who doesn’t like to do a little tweaking here and there, whether it be for a more pest-resistant vegetable garden, to get that bacterial paint the perfect eggshell colour for your walls or, in my current case, to help marinate my dinner faster and bring out the flavours with the help of enzymes. Even everyday British food, not very famous for its flavour, tastes a lot better now that you can just throw packets of flavouring and enzymes into it and just leave it to cook for a specified amount of time. No muss, no fuss, perfect for the lazy and the herb-and-spice illiterate alike. And what’s a lazy dinner without a cold one? ‘For best results, keep on ice at all times when not in use’. Funny how the instructions for storing enzymes are exactly the same as the instructions on this beer can. Thanks to my connections from back in the non-government-work-days, I now have a lifetime supply of BeerGen beer. Technically, I’m a flavour and consistency tester. Practically, I get free beer for life and since they keep coming out with new flavours all the time, it doesn’t even get boring. Plus, in lieu of a morning tea, I could always have a can since some contain enzymes that neutralize the alcohol before I’m even out the door. A driver’s best friend.

11 AM, August the 2nd, The Future

K.

Same time next week... Alex is a nice guy, and can gets things done. It's good to have him and similar people around. Without them and the network my work would be much harder, impossible even. I don't really like coming to this part of town to get things sorted. Being pushed away from the safe shelter of society like a damned criminal. And what have I ever done wrong? Whenever the innocent are left to suffer because of the fear of progress every move is a fair game as long as it leads the society back on track.
Something's not right here - the streets are more busy than usual. I have a bad feeling about it.
A sharp smell, and odd cry in the dark... shit, is that pepper spray? Right around the corner, the shouts are getting louder and I can see what’s going on. A whole squad of riot police with top-tier equipment. I better get out of here.
- Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going? Stop right where you are.
I freeze as I spot one of the cops - he’s got one of these powered exoskeleton arms that could snap my neck before I could spell “citizen rights”. But I cannot risk being searched, not with so many plasmids in my pockets. Bloody protesters couldn’t have picked a worse moment to start a riot. Just leave me alone...
- Just leave me alone!
- I’ll leave you alone to rot in jail if you don’t get on the ground right now!
I leg it. I can hear shouts behind me, I can barely see where I’m going as the tear gas fills the alley. I must get out...    

8:45 AM, July the 31st, The Future

A.

A weekend off and then it’s back to work for the both of us. We can’t just jump on a motorbike and ride out into the Highlands to explore all the sparkling lochs and ancient castles like we used to, duty calls, there are pathogens that need containing here and criminals that need detaining on the other side of the world. At least we can enjoy time together even while we’re apart with personal virtual reality kits - it’s like the 4D cinemas except without all the other people loudly chewing popcorn and pouring soda down your neck. You just load up a preset scenario or custom build one and smells, tastes and sights will start to inundate your senses. I can feel the wind tearing against my leathers, smell the exhaust fumes mixed with fresh mountain air, see the sun’s glare over a mountain high up in the distance and taste that beer we shared at our last stop. If I wanted to, I could also get electrodes that stimulate specific neurons to artificially induce some emotions but I think that this is realistic enough. There are enough people who say that this is not real happiness and people can get addicted to it and just waste away and forget about real life. Of course, the thing actually senses who uses it and how often and it automatically locks you out after an hours’ use each day. I also disagree with it not being real happiness, it is still something you feel, even if it is artificially induced... just like painkillers artificially reducing your pain, but you don’t hear people complaining about having to feel less pain.

7 PM, July the 30th, The Future

K.

Just a few more minutes in the sequencer and I’ll know whether the assembly worked as intended - with the conditions I have in my “lab” you can never be sure about the results. I’m actually growing curious of the possible effect that these BioBricks may have on dehydrogenase. That’s one thing I like about the whole biohack business - you can never be sure of the results and possible combinations are endless, even now when the technology is better than ever. What starts as a side project can become much more, simply by accident.
In my case however, its sole purpose is to cover for the more complicated stuff. I'm pretty sure that security people have a huge file on me but they could just as well throw it out a window. Once they find out you're a harmless biohacker they may keep an eye on you - but who's got enough eyes to watch all the people who try to get some moonshine from bacteria? Thanks to this subproject I'm free to experiment with the good stuff - as long as I'm careful. Feint within a feint within a feint - a complicated life but one that is worth living. And I need all the cover I can get if I want to mess with human stem cells. Genome modifications may be fairly well developed (I've even got a few upgrades myself, after all) but the endless potential for human augmentation using stem cells is just overwhelming. It's hard, it's time consuming and it's risky - but I'd rather go down in flames than sit in the shadow.
 

7:50 PM, July the 27th, The Future

A.

I adjust the colour of my dress with the push of a button. Got to get that deep red hue to match the hair, the shoes and the nails. The bacteria woven into the silk recognize the change in nutrients at once and start to produce the appropriate pigments. Saves having to get a different coloured dress to match each of my shoes. In addition to colour, the bacteria can also produce various scents. The perfume industry had a little to suffer because of it but they quickly changed direction and now they are inseparable from the textile industry.

The Flesh of Fallen Angels Bar and Grill. An apt, albeit dramatic name for this restaurant. The sombre decor complete with black candles and black velvet chairs and the 80’s rock and metal playing in the background go very well with cocktails called Ragnarök, Aesir and Asgard and menu items called Spicy Valkyrie Wings, Jörmungandr steak and Flesh charred by Fafnir’s breath. The whole atmosphere is like a bubble out of time that evokes memories of the years when life depended less on the synthetic. What makes this place truly special, though, is that they serve actual meat. While one can easily forget that the ‘meat’ in their everyday dinner is synthetic, an anniversary still calls for a special meal and it is these meals that remind me that no synthetic analogue can fully reproduce the taste and feel of a good steak. Sweet wine fermented by enhanced bacteria is, however, a significant improvement over that which has come before it.

10 PM, July the 26th, The Future

K.

Whatever you say about the registry - at least it's easy to access. A relic, a prototype and a thing to remember. It's still fairly useful though, someone must have done a really good job of organising it and sorting out all the BioBricks. The fun part is that it had reached its peak then fallen down already before the Outbreak and the whole regulatory shenanigans. This had a whole lot of implications but most importantly it has been long forgotten by the system. It has it flaws, the methods behind it are outdated but the data is still there. I've been looking through it since last month and I'm growing increasingly fond of it, kicking it old-school. The fun times when I had been an undergraduate are rather blurry at best but you cannot deny the creativity behind this whole project. Creativity which means piles of junk DNA making my work harder. I've got a hunch that today may be the day. Something to get me started without getting too much attention. Another hour or two with tea and the database and then I’ll call it a day. "Thermobacter-infused tea", seriously, who comes up with that kind of stuff.

5PM, July the 24th, The Future

A.

The building I work in used to be an old hospital that was converted into a series of labs as the need for quite so much hospital space declined. Implants that can sense the presence of pathogens, identify them and deploy the right drugs became available as soon as bacteria-based bioelectric interfaces were cleared for human use. Most of these implants use non-antibiotic methods to kill the pathogens, so the tide of antibiotic-resistant organisms has ebbed. Add to this the fact that all experiments use non-antibiotic markers, so even the most careless release will not cause a relapse in resistant bacteria. As a direct consequence of these things, even those who could not afford the implant could easily be treated with the (carefully moderated) use of antibiotics that were previously ineffective. Problems only arise when some paranoid hypochondriac keeps pumping his body full of antibiotics to get rid of the supposed plague infecting him and in so doing, causes a small surge of antibiotic-resistant organisms. As soon as such a rise is noticed, the resistant strains are tracked back to their source (handy that we can now track bacteria efficiently) and the area is decontaminated. 

11 PM, July the 23rd, The Future

K.

This is not a good moment to run out of polymerase, damn it. It'll take some time before I can get my hands on some more. Advanced as we are, we still can't make DNA replicate itself out of thin air. And it all goes back to the Outbreak. It seems like it all started not so much time ago. Everything was going fine, technology improving, prices dropping and synthetic biology flourishing. Of course it didn't last long.

First it was that poor fellow from a university, can't even remember which one. A sloppy mistake that contaminated the lab and cost a few people their lives. That kind of stuff makes the news, maybe creates some new legislation but it's never world-changing. Unlike a precise, well organised bioterrorist attack that happened 2 years later. Back in the days some experts assumed that pathogens cannot overcome their limitations while facing the exponential growth rate of our technology. Clearly someone didn't account for the same technology working in favour of the enemy. All it took was a good place to start with.

1,163,743 deceased, many more severely debilitated for the rest of their lives. I remember this number well. However much sympathy I felt for the victims and their relatives, I could easily see how it would affect me and everyone else. No more free access databases, sequencing or synthesis. No more synthetic biology. A new dark age for technology. However, the new regulations were messy and people already got a taste of the change they so desperately needed. You cannot stop progress. Unfortunately, for now the progress still needs the damned polymerase!  

3PM, July the 20th, The Future

A.

You either had good connections and got a high-end job or you started tinkering with things on your own to try and make a name for yourself on the open source front. At least it was like that before the bioterrorist attack of 2020 killed around a million. It’s funny (in a sick way) how the death of one person is tragedy, but the death of one thousands is a statistic. Regulations were rapidly put in place to limit access to databases and materials, so self-styled, honest biopunks had to either go underground, take a sharp left turn in their career prospects and start doing something else or fill the jobs vacated by those who died. Where one door closes, another opens...

This is when the government decided that it needed more people to work on controlling the directions garage biology could take, to prevent such events ever happening again. The Biosafety and Biosecurity Division was set up and was tasked with developing ways to predict, model, prevent and remedy any bioterrorist attacks that could occur, as well as carry out periodic scans of most synthetic products that get released. We have shown some success, in that nothing so big has occurred again (yet?) and things have been quiet, save for a few isolated cases that we managed to contain quickly enough. Honest biopunks probably hate us for severing their access to the large databases, but even they must understand that we are fighting the good fight.

1 AM, July the 19th, The Future

K. 

I used to love late evening strolls around the streets but the habit grew less appealing with time. The city has changed just like everything else. Or maybe it's just me - for most people the streets are safe and because of that they don’t mind all the restrictions and supervision. However, I have good reasons to hide in the shadows as one man’s safety may very well be a trap for another. Back in the flat, 3rd floor. I open the fresh tank of water and take a sample - nowadays everything is contaminated with all sorts of genetic material so I prefer to run some tests. After all, it only takes seconds to detect DNA and get a readout on a computer. It seems that this one has got some funky DNA - nothing dangerous but I probably want to use water from another source for experiments. I'll set the sequencer in the morning and see what’s there. There's a good chance I'm being paranoid, with all that neuropeptide conspiracy it's easy to believe that our own military is cooking up something big. On the other hand simple incompetence can be much more detrimental than any conspiracy. By simply "overlooking" the problem of DNA contamination, the government makes biohacking a real pain sometimes. With all the power that they have and want to take away from us, who's the real biopunk here?

6PM, July the 18th, The Future

S.

Dear diary,

I forgot and told mummy about puking all over the cinema and she sent me to go play with Baby and I heard her shout at daddy. Mummy doesn’t like 4D, she said it is not natural. I asked Miss Green what that means and she said mummy was right, that 4D is bad for girls my age (even though I am the oldest in my class), but that other people use it. She showed us about bio electricity and how it is good and it helps people who are sick but then Simon hit me but Kate says its only cos he likes me but I don’t like him, I like Paul.

I told mummy what teacher said and mummy said Miss Green is too young to understand. Mummy took me to see grandpa today. I like grandpa even though he smells like old person.

3 PM, July the 17th, The Future

A.

Cataloguing and characterizing an infinitely long list of bioparts submitted to the Registry can be a gruelling task. It’s the kind of job that could easily be automated but then it takes some thinking to interpret the results, so humans still need to be part of it. With how quickly computers and synthetic biology are co-evolving, however, I’m sure that we’ll soon have computers that will accurately interpret all that data, resulting in a fully automated process that only needs a fraction of the current manpower to maintain. It was not  a dream-job.

After that came a job of making new parts for a small flower shop. Tweaking plants with biosensors that keep them fresh and alive for longer by infusing them with hormones based on environmental conditions. Improving their genes to make them more colourful, smell better, make bigger flowers, resist more pests and flower more frequently. This was fun for a while (and smelled a lot better than all those bacteria in a lab) but it lacked the sense of satisfaction one gets from doing something that does more than improve things aesthetically.

I was looking to change my direction slightly and actually start helping people. That’s when morbid circumstances brought me a great opportunity.

9PM, July the 16th, The Future

K.

Huh, yet another failed PCR, what a fun. Well, that's DIY for you, there's a good reasons why the big guys get results and I don't. The gap between the industry and common people is growing daily, with corporation fighting over every single patented piece of high-tech. They are always at the leading edge with an ace up the sleeve. But what they don't have is the network. For each of my failed tests, there are hundreds of people who succeed. Each small piece of information goes online and if you know where to look - you'll find what you need.  I say let the corporations have their patented secrets - we don't need them. Let the big guys fire their big guns at each other while we work out how to fix the world - million small steps at a time. But a failed PCR is still a failed PCR and not even a million people can change that. Time to give it another spin before midnight.

11AM, July the 14th, The Future

A.

I landed this job after exploring many unyielding avenues. As synthetic biology became more and more commonplace, everybody flooded all the universities that taught it in the hopes that they could strike gold by starting or joining a synthbio company that would produce something that would replace or augment existing things or create something new and world-changing. This turned out to be a very fruitful avenue for the first few generations of graduates, but then the unemployment sky-rocketed as the well of novel ideas started to run dry and no new jobs were on the horizon. A synthetic biology diploma was about as good as a job application for a fast-food joint. At least you’d know all about the intricacies of the production of the synthetic meat burgers you’re flipping and about the genetic modifications of the plants that they use to make the oil for your fries. That’s how graduates like me (who were actually interested in the concept of synthbio itself, not just enamoured with promises of riches) ended up doing menial jobs. Even with all this cheap food, I still needed someone to give me the money to afford it.

7PM, July the 13th, The Future

K.

Turn left, then right, a quick look behind. The augmented vision keeps recalculating the route - good, it means I'm still keeping the pace. Not the first time this EPO upgrade pays back. I can still remember my first genome modification as if it was yesterday. I had it applied for medical reasons, obviously. Then it became more restricted - and more accessible in...certain circles. First it was some minor adjustments but it soon became...addictive, just like tattoos for some people, you just can't stop.

- Stop right there, punk! You're under arrest for possession of restricted genetic material!

Bloody coppers! I wonder what's the restricted genetic material - the tube I've got in my pocket or just me. Either way I'd rather not have them PCR my ass to jail.

Turn left, jump over the fence and then comes the hard part. Climb up the dumpster, jump across, catch the ledge over the gate.

Done, now it should take them a few minutes to find me and get around the security lock. And my motorcycle is just where I left it, sweet. I'm sure I'll have some more lovely meetings with law officers but today's pleasant encounter is over.

4PM, July the 12th, The Future

S.

Dear diary,

I went to the animal park today and I saw lots of animals. I saw a tiger and a sheep and a dinosaur and an elephant and a hippobotomus. Daddy showed me the cows and they were big and silly and smelly. Daddy said that a long time ago the cows made milk and the human beings drank their milk!!!! I said I would never drink that milk. I will only drink milk from biofarms. Smelly cows. Then we went to the cinema and daddy got us ice cream and I got to see a 4D film! Daddy told them I was old enough even though I am not, but I am not to tell mummy! I got a pill to swallow just like the one I get at school and then the lights went off and then the film started and I got cold when there was on the ice and warm when things went BANG ! and happy when the goody and his friend kiss (yuck!) and then I was sick all over my new dress and daddy took me home.

4:45 PM, July the 11th, The Furure

A. 

The demand for newer, better genetic sequences is overwhelming. As soon as a new sequence appears on the many internet forums, it will be lapped up by all the DIY biologists in the hopes that that sequence will finally make their bacteria do what they want it to do. This constant craving for new sequences sometimes makes my job seem like shooting fish in a barrel - I design and test sequences that recognize and disrupt genes classed as ‘potentially hazardous’ and share them online pretending to be some kid in his parent’s basement (what better place to drive advancements in science). After that, I sit back and let the people and the DNA do the rest - disabling potential bioweapons (and natural pathogens) one white lie at a time. The less easy part of the job comes when there’s a bioterror scare and we’re hard pressed to work out what exactly the organism is supposed to do and how we can neutralize it before it can do lots (or any) harm to the people. After all, it would be pretty bad for politicians if there would be nobody left to elect their asses into four more years of luxury.

3:00 PM, July the 10th, The Future

K.

Up and down, up and down, microliter after microliter, I'm pipetting the useless enzymes and pieces of DNA. Years of training and experience wasted on giving your next beer a slightly more appealing colour. Maybe I should consider myself lucky to be dealing with synthetic biology without a security clearance but it all just seems so meaningless. With current technology we have all we need to do great things but access to these technologies is so restricted that humanity just keeps running in circles. That's not how it was meant to be. An average graduate can do the job, hell, they even teach most of that stuff in high schools now. And yet here I am, wasting my time and when the paycheck arrives, it's as if someone just punched me in the face. Whatever I do, wherever I go, I'm just another brick in the wall. I see but cannot be seen, I scream and no one hears me. Not so long ago we all thought we grabbed the god by his robe, that we were chosen to change the world. Except the world has changed on its own - and it has left us behind.

9:00 PM, July the 7th, The Future

A.

Out of the car, into the tiny elevator (I prefer using the stairs but my lab is on the 10th floor and it’s hard to climb so many stairs wearing heels). The building has one-person elevators so everyone can get to where they want to be quickly, without having to stop at everyone else’s floor first. Like I said, it’s a busy world where time is apparently everything. I push ‘10’, the elevator starts to move and personalized ads start to pop up (‘Based on your DNA sequence, you could be at risk of developing heart disease. Insure your future with LifeSure today’). This is what the powerful next-next-next-gen DNA sequencing (it’s got an ‘official’ name, but I’ve stopped caring, as a ‘nexter’ generation sequencing method comes out every year or so) is wasted on, analyzing DNA from dead skin cells on an elevator button. I wonder what will happen to my DNA that just got analyzed. Will appear online like everything else DNA-related these days? If I’d search online, I’d probably run into conspiracy theories about how the government is using everyone’s DNA to develop new ways of brainwashing us. People are either scared or fascinated by synthetic biology. Some see it as an opportunity to get rich by pioneering some new bio-gadget while others go on about how biohackers will kill us all. With how paranoid the government has become recently, you’d think that apocalypse was just around the corner. At least their paranoia fuels my paycheck.

9:00 PM, July the 6th, The Future

K.

The fog is so thick it feels like rain frozen still. The smell of sewage is overwhelming - everyone just dumps their failed E. coli wherever they fancy. That’s one thing I learned about the black market quite early.

- 'Sup Alex, got anything good this week?

- I've got that alcohol dehydrogenase part you asked for. It's pretty old but definitely viable.

- That's even better, more chance to tinker with it. A restriction site here and there and it will work just fine.

- Exactly - he grins - I've also got some more... funky stuff. LSD, used to be the most valuable compound produced with synthetic biology. Interested?

- Heh, yeah I remember how it made the news. But it's not my kind of stuff, plus I probably don’t want to compete with the mob, they are a bit touchy. I'll drop you some plasmids if I get the dehydrogenase working. Same time next week?

- I'll see you then, mate.

I walk away with the small tubes safely stashed in my coat. The cops know it's a better deal if they stay away from this part of the city but you never know. I turn around as I hear someone coughing out their lungs. The moment I see blood, the diagnosis is clear - tuberculosis. She is asking for drugs but I know that there are no drugs that could help her. You either get your immune system augmented or you're done. It’s supposed to be free but there are always people left behind. There’s nothing I can do for her...

9:00 AM, July the 5th, The Future

A.

Out of the house, into traffic. Grumble about how everyone has a car, now that biofuels are cheaply available - the petrol industry struggled really hard to maintain its income but it did not stand a chance against biofuels that can cheaply be made from renewable resources. Even so, I think its price is a lot higher than it should be, considering the production costs, but hey, it’s a business and so long as there’s high demand for it, they can set the price to be whatever they want it to be. At least I don’t have to pay for it myself, free fuel came along with the company car I was given when I took up this job. ‘So that you can get around more easily’. That actually just means ‘So you won’t have any excuses when we call you in to work in the middle of the night due to an emergency’. And those emergencies are becoming more and more frequent, each time there’s a bioterror scare, even if it is completely unfounded, they want everyone and their dog to be there to work on containment ASAP.

8:30 AM, July the 4th, The Future

K.

Having a good time looking at all these people stuck in traffic. I heard the trams should get finished sometime next year - not sure how that’s supposed to change things but that's none of my concern. One would think that after a fuel crisis people would get more considerate. But the moment that all the biofuels kicked in for good, everyone got back to good old habits. You can change the world but not the people...
It seems that the new education reform is all over the news. Sounds like the government got bored of all the overeducated people shuffling papers or flipping burgers. Well, at least nowadays most kids are actually aware that a degree has nothing to do with a real job. I switch off the radio and adjust the vision to better suit the fog. I'm not sure why I tuned in at all. With all the media and counter-media showing their own version of reality, it's hard to tell who's lying the most. Everyone has to find their own version of truth and in the end it always turns out that one is better off accepting the lies. Ignorance is bliss, they say - but it is not my thing.

7:00 AM, July the 3rd, The Future

A.

I’m so comfortable. ‘These new sheets with Thermobacter™ adjust to maintain your body temperature a cozy 36.7ºC through the night, taking care of your sweet dreams.’ If only I didn’t have to get up and go to work.. but the alarm clock keeps on beeping, the biosensor knows that I haven’t reached the ‘awake’ part of my circadian rhythm quite yet, and the frequency of the noise it makes is keyed to my body, inducing a more and more alert state one beep at a time.

I finally get out of bed, turn the alarm clock off (which now answers to my command) and proceed to take a shower. Yes, a shower. They call me old fashioned for that. I know that my clothing contains enzymes that clean my body throughout the day, but a lukewarm shower in the morning wakes me up better than any cup of that ‘probiotic, thermostable bacterial’ tea (that I drink nonetheless). I think can afford to waste 5 minutes for this outdated ritual, regardless of how valuable ‘time’ has managed to become.

4:00 AM, July the 2nd, The Future

K.

It’s 4 in the morning and I cannot sleep. 4 a.m. and I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with this world, not for the first time. Well, there’s some good stuff, sure. We’ve fixed the problem of shrinking food supplies for one thing. I actually like the taste of synthetic meat made with seawater, reminds me of home in a weird way. And that sandwich I didn’t finish yesterday.
I smell lemons when I open the fridge. Without all the bacteria integrated in it I’d probably still have to leave the actual fruit inside to keep it fresh. A small price compared to what I paid for the fridge.
I pick the processed rubbish from the MFC, will get it on my way out later. Some stuff even microbes cannot utilise. For now they should get me more than enough energy to make some tea. “NEW, now with lemon flavour probiotic thermostable bacteria!” - sure, as long as it’s got caffeine in it.


It’s 4:30 in the morning and it’s raining. It’s always raining. I bet it will rain in hell as well, once I  get there