The Gene of Life

by Tetsuo Ted Takashima

  “At present, I’m a researcher in Professor Michaels’s laboratory. I heard you knew each other, so I asked for a recommendation. I’ve been thinking of applying to your lab for some time.”

  Max put the document on the desk. “First, allow me to apologize for arriving late due to personal matters.”

  She smiled cheerily. “That’s okay; I’ve been sleep-deprived lately, so it actually helped me to take a little nap.”

  “Do you have time to spare, Dr. Lang?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Could I ask for a helping hand?” Max took the bag and stood up. He left the room and headed for the lab on the same floor. Confused, Katarina followed after him.

  “Were you sleeping in front of the door the entire time?”

  “I was at the neurotransmitter lab until three hours ago. Cindy and I were in the same year at TU Dresden.”

  “And then?”

  “She left to go on a date at six, so I sat by your door.”

  “I’m terribly sorry. I just couldn’t get away.”

  “I understand, Professor. You’re busy. That’s why I waited.”

  Max inserted his card into the lab door’s slot and entered the passcode. Frigid air hit them as they went inside. The room was around 550 square feet, and there were three test benches side by side. He handed her one of the lab coats hanging on the wall.

  “You specialized in the study of molecular biology, right, Dr. Lang? And after you graduated, you went on to med school.”

  “Yes, to the med school at TU Dresden.”

  “Why did you switch to life science?”

  “You graduated from med school too, Professor. Why did you switch to life science?”

  Max didn’t answer, but walked to one of the test benches and put down the bag. Carefully, he pulled the glass cylinder out of the thermos.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Any clinical practice?”

  “Only when I was an intern.”

  “Then you should be used to dead bodies. Including dead body parts, of course.”

  She nodded, but he could tell she had been taken by surprise.

  “Anybody would get flustered. It’s only natural. It’s just the two of us in here in the middle of the night, and I just showed you a severed hand.”

  “I’m not flustered. And you didn’t do clinical medicine for that long, either. You’ve been a researcher for far longer.”

  Max ignored that remark and retrieved a small bottle from an envelope in his pocket. Inside was a hair.

  “It’s a DNA sample.” He pulled on surgical gloves and extracted the hand from the vial. The pungent odor of the formalin made them grimace. Using a scalpel, he cut off a piece of flesh from the cross section.

  “You know how to run a DNA scan, right, Dr. Lang?” he asked, as he dropped the flesh into a test tube.

  “Please call me Katya.” It seemed as though she’d regained her cool, as she set down her bag and put on the lab coat.

  “Extract some DNA from the hair and the bit of hand for me, Katya.”

  Katya looked nervous as she prepared two 1.5 mL Eppendorf tubes and wrote the names of their contents on their lids. First, she lightly wiped the hair with a Kimwipe soaked in ethanol. Next, she finely cut about one centimeter of the hair root and inserted it into one of the Eppendorfs. She replaced the tip of a Pipetman with the 200 microliter container, and transferred the buffer liquid from the vial to the Eppendorf. Conscious of Max watching her, she was a bit stiff at first, but soon that gave way to practiced motions. Katya efficiently carried out the same procedure with the other scraps of flesh. Max observed.

  “Professor Michaels was dead on.”

  “About what?”

  “You really are brilliant.”

  “It hasn’t even been an hour since we met, Professor.”

  “I can tell from watching how you go through the steps of a basic experiment and from how you handle the equipment. You’re top-notch.”

  The preparations lasted around an hour. They set the test tubes into the DNA sequencer. The computer would do the rest.

  “Did you create this DNA identification program too, Professor?” she asked, peering at the computer screen.

  “I guided one of my students into making it. These days, we get students who are whizzes with computer stuff.”

  “It’s well-programmed. You must have been an excellent guide.” Katya typed quickly, and the screen’s display shifted just as fast. DNA analysis is performed by severing a string of DNA with a restriction enzyme, extracting a specific DNA fragment, and employing gel electrophoresis to obtain DNA fingerprinting. By comparing the fingerprints, it is possible to determine whether or not they are the same person, but by combining a sequencer and a computer, it is possible to obtain accuracy rates close to 100 percent. Max had also contributed to the establishment of the method.

  They returned to his office where Max placed a cup of coffee he bought at a vending machine in front of Katya. “I’m planning to move out of here next week,” he said, scanning the room. There were only a few books left on the bookshelf, and three cardboard boxes were stacked in the corner. On the desk were a laptop and a plastic DNA model on a wooden stand. A plate on the table was engraved with the names of all the staff of TU Berlin and the genetic research facility. It was given to him as a memento for his time in Germany. “Where did you get your degree?”

  “In 2002, after I graduated from TU Dresden’s med school, I moved on to TU Berlin’s biochemistry department. After that, I studied abroad at Stanford and got my PhD there.”

  “That’s why your English is so good.”

  “My mother is American. My father, who works for a trading company, was sent to New York, where they met and married. I was born in America, and lived there until I was 12.”

  “How old . . .”

  “I’m 28.” She took a sip of her coffee. “It’s not my fault you mistook me for a student,” she said, in response to the surprised look on Max’s face. She looked at the DNA figurine. “I came in contact with death, so I gained an interest in life itself. I could cure wounds and diseases through medicine, but no one can evade death forever. In the face of that, is medicine not, in fact, powerless?” She put the paper cup on the table. “You asked why I chose life science. That’s the reason I decided to do life science research instead of pursuing medicine.”

  Max looked at the window, listening.

  “Well? Have I passed?”

  “When it comes to your skill, I have no qualms. There’s just one problem.” He spun in his chair to face her. “I’m going to be in America ten days from now.”

  “I’m aware. I have US citizenship since I was born there.”

  “Can I ask you to be my assistant for the time being? I’ll add 5,000 dollars to your current annual income.”

  Katya’s face lit up. Max got up and proffered his hand. “Sounds like a deal, Katya.” Katya hurriedly gripped his hand. “Any questions?”

  For a moment, Katya seemed to waver.

  “Don’t hesitate. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”

  “Why do you always look so melancholy, Professor?”

  Max stopped rifling through his files and looked at her. “Is that how I look? I didn’t realize.”

  “All the students talk about it. They joke your wife probably can’t stand it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get married.”

  “Forgive me, that was rude of me. But my father always said we live to enjoy life, and that fun starts with a smile. I agree with those words.”

  “Your father must be a happy man. And you’re his happy daughter.”

  Katya noticed a book on the desk. On top of it was a birthday card that read “Wisdom saves lives, but it robs people of their freedom and souls. To my beloved patient.” Max’s signature was scrawled on the bottom. “Is this a birthday present?” asked Katya. She read the title of the book. “The Enigma Cipher. That was the Nazi army’s cipher, right? Is one
of your patients the type to read books like these?”

  “I hired you to be my assistant. Is prying part of your job description?” Max put the card and book into his desk drawer.

  “I apologize, but I . . .”

  “It will take seven hours for the analysis results to come in. I’m going to be in my hotel until then.” Max looked at the clock and put his files in his bag.

  “I’ll head home. I live with my parents near Hasenheide.”

  They left the lab. It was late, and few people were on the streets. After seeing Katya off in a taxi, Max walked the three blocks to the hotel where he’d been staying since vacating his apartment.

  Max couldn’t sleep a wink. He’d gone to bed as soon as he got out of the shower, but the hand in the formalin was floating in his head. And the Nazi in uniform was staring at him. He tossed and turned. Whenever he closed his eyes, the darkness threatened to swallow him. When he was a child, he used to turn all the lights on in his room and cling to his pillow and tremble. At daybreak, he gave in and took a sleeping pill, and finally sank into welcome sleep.

  He arrived at the genetic research facility the next morning at 10:05. He still felt the effect of the sleeping pill and was having trouble focusing. His hazy mind reflected on the previous day’s events. It was just as that old man said—this all might be a clue to what he had been searching for.

  Katya was waiting in front of the facility. Just like the day before, she had on a T-shirt and jeans, along with her beat-up backpack. She was sitting on the stone wall of the flower bed beside the main entrance, eating an apple. When she noticed Max, she smiled with evident surprise, and waved.

  Max apologized for his lateness for the second day in a row. They took the elevator to the eighth floor and turned to walk down the hallway. Suddenly, Max was almost knocked to the floor when a man in a lab coat crashed into him. Katya grabbed Max by the arm, and Max reached out his hand to help the man in the lab coat, but he brushed it aside and got back on his feet. Then he grabbed his bag that had fallen to the floor and bolted toward the elevator.

  “Guy thinks he can get in some exercise here in the lab.” Max watched as the man jabbed repeatedly at the elevator button. He noticed Max and Katya were staring at him, and looked back nervously to see what floor the elevator was on. A muffled noise came from the lab, then a scream, and then the sound of footsteps running down the hallway. A group of men and women in lab coats were rushing toward them. One of the men was a former assistant of Max’s.

  “What is going on?”

  “An explosion! The thermostatic chamber, it blew!” shouted Max’s assistant. Blood spilled from between his fingers as he pressed his forehead, and one arm of his lab coat was stained red. “It was that man. He was in the lab!”

  Max turned around; the elevator opened at that moment, and Max saw the man enter.

  “Hold it!”

  The man locked eyes with Max as the doors closed. Max wiped the blood off his assistant’s forehead and bound his arm with a handkerchief.

  “Any others injured?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Contact the medic team, and then call the guards. We’ve got to catch him!”

  “Got it,” said a woman in a lab coat, who burst into the nearby laboratory.

  Max and Katya hurried to the lab and stopped at the entrance. Shards of glass and plastic lay scattered all over. The thermostatic chamber had been destroyed by the explosion. Glass containers had shattered on the floor. The explosion had been small, but the damage it had done to the lab was considerable. Was this a calculated bombing?

  Max and Katya ran toward the DNA sample storage box.

  “The vial, it’s gone!”

  The vacuum flask they’d so carefully placed in the box the night before was nowhere to be found. The DNA test pieces they’d created had all vanished as well.

  “The bag that guy was holding . . .” Katya murmured.

  Panicked, Max turned on the computer and entered the key. “The data’s been deleted. And the sequencer with the sample in it was destroyed!”

  Katya checked the nearby equipment. “The spare samples are all gone, too.”

  “So, all of the samples and all of the data are gone.” Max felt weak. A devastating sense of loss came over him. He might just have lost something with no substitute. He held onto a test bench so he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

  “Professor, I . . .”

  “Later. Are there any others who are injured?”

  A woman in a lab coat standing in the doorway silently shook her head. Researchers from other rooms filled the hallway, and the guards pushed by them to peer into the lab.

  “Don’t touch anything. The police are going to be here soon.” A guard ordered the assistants out of the room, after they’d gotten a look at the mangled, doorless thermostatic chamber.

  “Somebody tossed a grenade in there. More than one, probably. We’re getting more and more idiots who love wrecking stuff because of their crazy logic nowadays.” The guard was referring to the Dörrenwald bombing. “But this is the work of an amateur. If you throw a bomb into something like this that’s as sturdy as a safe, then the explosive power’s going to be weaker. The door got blown off, sure, but that’s about it. If they really wanted to destroy the place, they should’ve rolled the grenades elsewhere. Unless they just wanted to destroy the equipment. I used to be armed forces, so I know how explosives work.”

  He picked up a piece of metal off the floor and showed it to Max. It was the thermostatic chamber door’s handle. The aim was clearly to demolish the equipment.

  “Right after the explosion, a man in a lab coat got in the elevator and escaped.” Max pointed to the assistants looking at them from the entrance. “They saw it.”

  “I’ll notify the authorities.” The guard went over to the assistants and made note of their recollection of what the man looked like.

  “Professor . . . ,” Katya whispered to Max. “I connected the sequencer’s storage device to the university intranet. The results of the experiment should be linked up to two different systems. The data should already have been transferred from the facility’s server to your computer.”

  Max grabbed Katya’s arm, and they rushed out of the lab.

  “When I was back in the States, a computer virus once ruined all of my experiment data. Ever since then, I’ve made sure to back up my data using more than one storage venue,” Katya explained as she ran to keep up with Max.

  The second Max entered his office, he turned on his computer and pulled up the file.

  “You’re the ideal assistant! I’m lucky to have you aboard.” Max looked at his screen, which showed strings of the letters A, T, G, and C (adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine). Below was a pulse waveform representing each base. It was the results of the DNA analysis. The sequence of these 12 billion base molecules determined all there was to determine in a human being.

  Max typed something to arrange two pulse waveforms one above the other.

  “The top is the DNA from the hand. The bottom is DNA from the hair.”

  Katya stared without saying a word. Then she nodded slowly.

  “They’re a match. That man came to the lab in search of this.”

  “Of the hand, and of the data.”

  “The hair and the hand belong to the same person. But what does that mean?”

  Max stopped to think.

  “I think you should report this to the police.”

  “No one will believe us.” Max could barely believe it himself.

  Max felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest. A chaotic mix of fear, hope, impatience, and every other emotion filled his mind. He felt faint.

  “Professor! Are you okay?”

  He could hear her voice. He struggled to control his mind. It was too soon to despair. He gripped the desk and steadied himself.

  “You look awfully pale.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Max straightened up.

  CHAPTER 3

&nb
sp; After 3:00 p.m., Max left the research facility with Katya. The police had questioned them about the explosion, but Max repeated what he’d already told the guards, and didn’t mention anything about the hand. It wasn’t as though he fully understood the situation himself.

  Max and Katya walked toward the hotel. Max planned to give Katya some research materials, specifically a dissertation about research topics in the United States. Max would be back in the States in less than ten days. As they rounded the corner, Max noticed a large gray Mercedes sedan parked across the street. Through the open window, Max saw Feldman’s face.

  “That’s the guy who was waiting in front of the university yesterday.” Katya saw Max was looking at the car.

  “Wait at the hotel. Just say my name at the front desk and show them this.” He wrote the name and address of the hotel and the words “give her the key” on the back of a business card and put it in Katya’s hand. Before Katya could say anything, he went over to the car. Jake stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the rear door for him. The car set off the instant Max got in. Feldman was the only one inside.

  “Are you unhurt?”

  “You know about the bombing at the lab?” His tone was stronger than he’d intended.

  “You appear to be fine.”

  “What’s going on? Somebody infiltrated the lab and planted a bomb. The guy ran off with your little gift, too.”

  “It’s truly a shame.”

  “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “What were the results of the scan? Surely the results are ready by now. You returned to your hotel at two in the morning.” Feldman ignored Max’s question. His expression hadn’t changed at all.

  “I’ll tell you when you answer my question.”

  “Nothing too grave has happened just yet. You and I are both unharmed. We’re still alive.”

  “Some of the lab workers did get injured. One wrong step and it would have been more serious.”

  “You are on the enemy’s hit list now, Professor. I’m afraid we underestimated them. Who could have imagined they would move so quickly? It’s our fault this happened,” he said, even as he gazed ahead. “Now what about the results?”