Category: hemo sapiens

This is section three of five from my short story, Hemo Sapiens: Aftermath. I’ve made available an audio version if you are so inclined. I’ll be publishing the rest of the story over the next few days. Let me know how you feel about it in the comments section. Follow these links for the section one and section two of this story. Check out another story in this universe: Hemo Sapiens: The Unidentified.

https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/7TKSUVNp0Cb

Ravi urgently presses an MP to break the news of a humanoid subspecies discovery. Historic revelations ahead.

“I understand your hesitation, but trust me—revealing a new humanoid subspecies will be historic,” Ravi urges, palpable enthusiasm in his tone.

Ravi hangs up, willing his racing mind to stay focused. He’s set events in motion quickly – too quickly? No, the time has come for this revelation. With renewed purpose, he moves to finalise his journal article submission.

MP Andrea Smith weighs options with advisors in her imposing office. She must control the shocking narrative.

Straightening briefing notes, Andrea takes in the wood-panelled walls and bookcases of her spacious but spartan office. Clearly an official space, not a personal one.

“But is it wise to rush into this prematurely?” an advisor cautions, bushy grey eyebrows drawing together as he fidgets with cufflinks under his tailored suit.

“This could be your career-defining moment if his claims prove true,” another enthuses, his youthful eyes alight as he leans forward in anticipation.

Andrea feels a chill down her spine as her advisor leans in, voice low. “Tread very carefully, Andrea. The wrong move here could end more than your career. Powerful entities have a vested interest in this kind of genetic tinkering. You don’t want to become a threat to them.” His eyes convey a stark warning. She forces a nod, the full danger of her position suddenly clear. She’s grappling with a matter of global security now. One misstep could put her freedom at risk.

Andrea massages her temples, weighing her options carefully. “We just need to get out in front of this news and control the narrative,” she decides firmly.

Andrea clicks off the call, steadying her nerves with a deep breath. The press announcement could make or break her career. But succeed or fail, it’s too late to turn back now. She begins drafting remarks, choosing her words carefully for the spotlight soon to come.

Bathed in monitor glow, Ravi finalises his article submission. No retreating from the spotlight now.

“Where’d these freaks even come from?” Ravi mutters, gulping black tea. He stares at the screen, puzzled. “We couldn’t engineer this twenty years back. Something’s off…”

He rings up the journal’s executive editor. “I’m submitting it now.” He pauses to listen. “Right, and you can expedite this for me?” Another pause. “I owe you.” He clicks off the call.

Ravi’s finger hovers over the mouse, his future hanging in the balance between submission and restraint. But his scientific convictions push him onward. For better or worse, his controversial claims are now a matter of public record. No retreating from the spotlight now.

---

In a sterile room across the city, the TV’s chatter fades into background noise for Daisy and Jasmine. But mention of a “new humanoid species” makes the report crackle into urgent clarity.

“That’s us,” Jasmine points at the screen, barely a teen. Her dark, close-cropped hair and lithe frame make her seem even younger, but her eyes burn with a confrontational intensity.

“People are messed up. ‘Homo Sanguine’? What the hell?” Daisy, the elder, grumbles under her breath. Her darker, longer hair is tied back in a practical style. Though detached, her gaze betrays a tactical intelligence.

A social worker present in the room, her eyes always shifting, suddenly snaps to attention. “New species? They’re actually going with that?”

“You feelin’ us?” Jasmine locks eyes with her for a beat, as if daring her to say more.

For Daisy and Jasmine, the news report is a cruel joke. Just dehumanising labels.

“They’re branding us, Jazz. Like we’re some new tech,” Daisy spits out, eyes ablaze. She leans in when making her point, exuding a quiet but simmering intensity.

Jasmine clenches her fist, biting back frustration. Impulsive but sharp, she quickly grows tired of this clinical environment. “Don’t they get it? We didn’t ask for this.”

“We’re just experiments to them, Jazz. Subhuman lab rats for research.” Daisy’s voice is a low growl, her expression stoic. She’s had more time to process the philosophical dimensions of their existence.

“So what, we just roll over?” Jasmine’s words come out like a punch as she leans in, close enough to catch Daisy’s eyes. “Let ’em cut us open like Bio class frogs?”

“We are locked up,” Daisy murmurs, a dangerous edge to her voice. “But we’ll wait. And watch. And when the time’s right, we show ’em what Homo Sanguinarus really means.”

Jasmine exhales, releasing some of the tension that had her wound tight. “Okay, then. So we’ve got a plan?”

“For now,” Daisy locks eyes with her younger sister, “we survive.”

---

The telly is the world now. The pub’s music stops abruptly as news of the compound continues.

Sliding off his guitar, a cold knot forms in Ben’s gut. His eyes seem to shift from violet to blue as he hops from stage to floor. It’s like shedding a layer of skin.

“Smashed it, Ben,” a mate claps him on the back, steering him toward an open barstool.

Ben stands out but not overly so in this space. Lines of experience are etched around eyes always searching for something, eyes that for a moment seem to betray him.

Just then, the atmosphere drops like a guillotine. News flash on the telly—some lab coat yapping about some new humanoid species. Ben thinks, shit just got real.

A pit opens in Ben’s stomach, bottomless and gnawing, as the news report keeps blaring. Externally, he’s unreadable; inside, a storm brews. What will happen to everyone at the compound? To others like him?

“Did you catch that nonsense?” his mate says, almost spitting out his pint.

“Yeah, freaky, innit?” Ben forces a grin, hiding the quake in his voice. Gotta keep my shit together. They can’t know what this news really means to me.

His eyes drift back to the screen, even as he keeps up the banter. Just gotta lay low, blend in. For their sake. For mine.

Voices in the pub start pitching about “vampires from space”. Ben’s tension mounts.

“Humanoid species? Ya kiddin’ me?”

“Sounds like some sci-fi bollocks,” says one.

“World’s gone mad, mate. Proper mad,” says another.

As jokes and laughter erupt, Ben’s inner tension tightens. These people don’t grasp what’s really at stake here.

Henry urgently tells Ravi to turn on the news.

Fumbling the remote, Ravi’s eyes grow wide as the screen flickers to life. Witnessing the public’s outcry, the weight of his reckless disclosure sinks in.

“These people need to be released now,” demands a spokeswoman from the National Council for Civil Liberties, the human rights advocacy group.

“They need to keep these freaks off the streets,” the news clip continues with the voice of a local resident.

Ravi clutches his chest, breaking into a cold sweat as the broadcast continues. Voices shout for the research to be destroyed, for him to be silenced. He realises he’s now in jeopardy. Shadowy entities will want to bury this, by any means necessary. As an envelope marked “Confidential” slides under his door, Ravi knows – his life is on the line now, not just his reputation.

Across town, Andrea’s handlers are all eyes and ears on the screen.

“This is bad, really bad,” one mutters.

“Could be worse,” another interjects, “At least it’s out there. No more hiding.”

Andrea, arms crossed, watches the pixels dance. “This is only the beginning,” she says, her voice a blend of dread and anticipation.

---

Disclaimer: This content is not necessarily a finished work. As such, details are subject to change or removal.

This is one of five sections from my short story, Hemo Sapiens: Aftermath. I’ve made available an audio version if you are so inclined. I’ll be publishing the rest of the story over the next few days. Let me know how you feel about it in the comments section. Follow this link for the first section of this story. Check out another story in this universe: Hemo Sapiens: The Unidentified.

https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ridley-park6/episodes/Hemo-Sapiens-Aftermath-Revelations-2-of-5-e295e19

Ravi taps Henry’s name on his mobile screen. When Henry answers, Ravi’s words come quickly.

“What do you need, Ravi?”

“It’s monumental. You need to get to the lab.”

A pause on the other end. Henry’s weighing it, Ravi knows. Finally, he speaks. “This sounds serious.”

“We might have a bloody new subspecies. Could rewrite human evolution.”

Henry exhales audibly. “Alright, I’m out and about, but I’ll make it a priority. I’ll be there presently.”

If this genetic data is misused, the consequences could be catastrophic.

Henry enters the lab, locking eyes with Ravi who is hunched over his microscope.

“You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Henry replies, setting down his bag and unbuttoning his coat. “What’s so urgent?”

Ravi points to the monitor displaying intricate DNA sequences.

Henry leans in, scrutinising the digital strands. “These variations are unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a human sample.”

“Exactly,” Ravi nods, a triumphant grin forming on his face. “I’ve coined the term ‘Homo sapiens sanguinius’ for them. The fascinating part is that each group has different DNA, almost as if they’re evolving separately within their own circles.”

Henry arches an eyebrow. “You’re seriously positing a new subspecies based on DNA alone? You do remember the uproar around the reclassification of bonobos and chimps into the Homo genus? Failed, largely because it would make the general public uneasy.”

Ravi’s grin falters. Henry’s objection gives him pause. Self-doubt creeps in for a moment. “You raise a valid concern,” he acknowledges. “There may be considerations I haven’t accounted for.”

“We need more evidence, obviously,” Henry asserts, eyes narrowing as if pondering the ramifications. “Perhaps, we should just call it a new race. Maybe it’s just some transhuman tinkering. This is all so unsettling.”

“Unsettling one way to put it,” Ravi agrees, locking eyes with Henry. He’s suspicious of Henry’s attempt to minimise his discovery.

Henry shifts, crossing his arms. “It’s a monumental discovery, Ravi, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Who knows what we’ll stumble upon next?”

Ravi senses a loaded undertone in Henry’s words. “Indeed, who knows.”

Ravi and Henry share a look, both grasping the enormity of what lies ahead. To advance human knowledge, they must proceed carefully yet decisively into uncharted territory.

Ravi’s voice grows serious. “These findings are unprecedented.”

“On the surface this seems ethically questionable,” Henry objects. “We can’t just play God based on fragmentary evidence. If we’re not careful, this could set a dangerous precedent.” The scepticism in his voice gives Ravi pause.

Ravi explains how the DNA differences suggest rapid speciation. “From Alpha to Gamma. We haven’t even sampled the infants. Each group’s distinct. It’s as if we’re witnessing speciation in real time. And within each group? The males and females share nearly identical DNA. But cross-compare the groups, and the story changes.” Henry’s scepticism cracks.

Henry’s eyes narrow slightly, the mask of scepticism cracking. “It’s a significant hypothesis, Rav. Yet without further inquiry, it’s still just that—a hypothesis.”

Ravi senses he is on the cusp of irrefutable evidence that will turn hypotheses into proven fact. He works late into the night, motivated by being on the brink of rewriting history.

Henry’s gaze settles on a corner refrigerator. “What’s in there? More samples?”

“Blood samples. Still testing,” Ravi says.

Henry approaches as Ravi cracks the door to glimpse the neatly labelled vials within.

“Did they say where these things came from? Do they know?” Henry pauses. “What do we call these ‘things’? Creatures? Beings?”

“‘Homo sapiens sanguinius’ works for now,” Ravi offers. “Bloodsucking intelligent man.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Henry manages to feign a smile. “Hemo sapiens?”

Reflecting, Ravi chuckles, “Right. Hemo sapiens.”

Henry shuts the door, turning back to Ravi. “We need to be prudent. But this could be groundbreaking, you realise? Not just scientifically. Politically, socially—our discovery could set off a seismic shift in how we perceive our own species.”

“I admit this feels ethically ambiguous,” Ravi concedes, “but the knowledge we could gain outweighs those concerns for me. Still, I recognize not everyone will see it that way. This is a moral grey area we’re venturing into.”

Henry locks eyes with Ravi once more. “Then let’s chart this storm together. But first, we verify, cross-reference, and corroborate. We don’t want to stir a pot we can’t unboil.”

“Agreed,” Ravi says. A newfound resolve forms between them, a pact sealed with the gravity of their forthcoming actions.

Ravi sees purposeful determination in Henry’s eyes that mirrors his own. They clasp hands, bonded by the shared goal of illuminating a biological revelation. Their grip tightens—both know they’re crossing a point of no return.

---

Next morning, Ravi mentally catalogues steps ahead. Verify data, conduct trials…diligence demanded. Sipping tea, he heads to the lab.

Henry picks up his laptop bag from a side table, every movement deliberate. “So, what’s next? You think it’s time to involve the ethics board?”

Ravi hesitates, twirling a pen between his fingers. “I don’t know. That’s like handing Pandora’s box to a bunch of bureaucrats. They won’t get the magnitude of this.”

“Yeah, but we can’t keep this under wraps for too long. It’s too big, and the implications… they’re staggering,” Henry points out. He can feel the weight of their secret growing heavier by the second.

Ravi caps his pen, looking serious. “You’re right. But before we open that can of worms, we need evidence. Perhaps even get these ‘Hemo sapiens’ to speak for themselves, somehow.”

Henry’s gaze sharpens. “You’re talking human trials?”

“A sort of anthropology, maybe. A way to explore their culture, habits, norms. We’ve got the what; we need the why and the how.”

Ravi’s smile falters. “Murky waters indeed. Things could get unpredictable fast.” He hesitates, doubts creeping in. “We need to establish up front that ethics come before knowledge. Otherwise, who knows what lines we’ll cross in the name of progress?”

Ravi grins, sensing a shared audacity. “You could say we’re modern-day pioneers, charting unexplored territories.”

“Let’s just make sure we’re not Columbus, eh?” Henry quips, zipping his bag shut. “We don’t need another ‘discovery’ that wrecks an entire world.”

“Point taken,” Ravi replies, nodding gravely. The line they’re about to cross isn’t just scientific; it’s a boundary that humanity itself might not be prepared to erase.

As Henry walks out of the lab, his mind races with the numerous variables, the endless questions, and the innumerable challenges that await them. His eyes meet Ravi’s one last time—a final shared glance before they either make history or wreak havoc.

---

At a dim bar that night, Henry sips scotch, mulling their discovery. His phone buzzes—Ravi, about a report.

His phone buzzes—Ravi. “Hey, check your email. Just forwarded you a preliminary report.”

Skimming the attachment, Henry feigns interest. “This is heavy stuff.”

“I know,” Ravi’s voice crackles through the phone. “But we need to get our story straight. The paper draft is already looking controversial as hell.”

“Controversial doesn’t cover it, Ravi,” Henry says grimly. “This paper could get us labelled enemies of the state. Fringe radicals, domestic terrorists even. We’re handing certain regimes the genetic blueprint for a new humanoid weapon. Not everyone will use this knowledge for good.” He downs his scotch, mind racing with the chilling implications of their research.

“Which is why we need to be careful. Every word, every claim, must be backed up tenfold. The world isn’t ready for this, Henry, but it’s our job to prepare them.”

Henry swirls his drink. “We press on. No turning back now.”

“No, there isn’t,” Ravi confirms, a certain resignation in his tone. “Either we’re about to change the narrative of human evolution, or we become a cautionary tale.”

“See you in the morning,” Henry ends the call, suddenly feeling the weight of their undertaking. He orders another scotch, not to seek answers but to steel himself for what’s coming.

He raises his glass, a silent toast to uncertainty. Whether they’re on the brink of revelation or disaster, the countdown has begun.

---

An email from Detective Amanda Lewis catches Ravi’s eye. A social worker is looped in.

He forwards the email to Henry. “We might just get that external validation sooner than we thought. Check this out.”

Henry leans in to read the email. “Bloody hell. Do you think they’ve come across another one of these… Hemo sapiens? Are we talking about the same thing here?”

Ravi contemplates for a second. “Only one way to find out.”

Lewis paces her office, phone in hand. These DNA results could be game-changing.

A social worker, in another place in the city, the mobile cold against his cheek. A cocktail of relief and trepidation churns within him. “Amanda, what exactly are we staring at? The family histories, behavioural markers — it’s off any chart I’ve seen.”

Back in her office, Amanda peers at the array of data on her monitor. “These DNA samples your lot ran — our academic chap’s been neck-deep in something very much akin. Unexplained genetic shifts. They’re dubbing it… Hemo sapiens.”

Tom laughs, a hint of nervousness cracking his voice. “Hemo what now?”

Amanda’s tone shifts, the levity drained. “Evidently, it’s groundbreaking and could very well change the bloody landscape.”

A sigh escapes Tom’s lips, the weight of his duty settling in. “Groundbreaking or not, we’ve a young girl here scared out of her wits and a family that’s lost the bloody plot.”

Amanda’s face tightens. “Then let’s break some fucking ground.”

Both intuit the heightened stakes, senses sharpened. It transcends academia, plunging them into the complicated realm of social work and police investigation. Miracle or monstrosity, the clock’s ticking.

---

In a stark room, Ravi sits with colleagues awaiting thirteen-year-old Finn. An unsettling but intriguing arrival.

Finally, the door opens. Finn Beta, just thirteen, enters. His eyes meet theirs, innocence underscored by an unspoken complexity that Ravi finds unsettling yet intriguing.

Tom manages a constrained smile, eyes scanning the young boy’s face. “Finn, these are the people who want to talk to you. This is Dr. Ravi and Dr. Sara.”

“Hey,” Finn says, shrugging nonchalantly as he takes a seat.

Ravi clears his throat. “You can call me Ravi.”

Sara chimes in, “And I’m Sara. We’ve got some questions. Is that alright?”

Finn’s eyes flicker. “Shoot.”

Sara points to some food on the table. “Mind if we watch you have your… lunch?”

Finn approaches the table without uttering a word. He bites into a turkey and cheese sandwich, follows it with a biscuit, and washes it down with a fizzy drink.

“Satisfactory?” Tom inquires, eyes tracking Finn’s every movement.

Finn gives a nod and reaches into a paper bag, pulling out a sealed bag of blood. He opens it and sips, apparently unfazed by the trio’s riveted gazes.

Sara notes the subtle elongation of Finn’s canines. “Do you always need to drink that?”

“It’s like your coffee, man. Keeps me going,” Finn replies.

Sara frowns. “And you have no idea where you came from? You believe you were born in that commune?”

“Born and raised,” Finn confirms. “We’re a family there. Brothers, sisters, aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews. You get the drift.”

“Is everyone there like you?” Sara asks.

Finn shrugs. “I guess.”

Tom interjects, “The number of beds we found during the raid doesn’t match your ‘family size.’ Can you explain?”

Finn shakes his head. “Dunno. Maybe they were out or something.”

The interview ends with Finn leaving a residue of questions, escorting out of the room and into the nebulous.

Ravi turns to Sara. “I bet you don’t find these back in the States.”

Sara lets out a muffled laugh. “I hope not.”

“He’s just a boy,” Tom chides.

They all sense that they’ve just scratched the surface of a far-reaching enigma. What began as academic curiosity spirals into a tangle of criminal, social, and ethical queries. And Finn—innocent yet inscrutable—sits at its centre.

---

Disclaimer: This content is not necessarily a finished work. As such, details are subject to change or removal.