The Gene of Life

by Tetsuo Ted Takashima

  Dr. Hamilton took out a folder with medical records and CT scans, and put it on his desk. “His dementia is progressing faster than expected,” he said, showing them a CT scan of Alex’s brain.

  Max stared intently at the film inserted in the Schaukasten light box. “How are you treating him?”

  “As we discussed last time, we’re administering a combination of immunosuppressive drugs and hormone therapy. We expect to see results, but even if it can slow the progression a little, it won’t help him on a fundamental level.” Max looked at the medical record. “If he continues to age at the current rate, we’ll have to face the problem of infectious diseases, since his immune system will be significantly weakened. It’s more or less the same as AIDS. But the rate at which he ages is accelerating. In a few months, he’ll need to be transferred to a sterilized room.”

  And if that were to happen, Max would no longer be able to come into direct contact with Alex.

  “Since maintaining his physical fitness is the best treatment, I’ll avoid relying on drugs as much as possible, as they may cause side effects.”

  “I leave it to you, Doctor.” Max bowed his head, stood up, and headed for the door.

  “Professor Knight,” called Hamilton. “He seems to have entered the hospital again.”

  “Something the matter?” Max’s expression changed slightly.

  “Physically, you could say he’s completely recovered. Mentally, on the other hand . . .”

  “That’s his problem.”

  “Did you keep in touch with him while you were in Germany?”

  “I remembered his birthday.”

  “He really wants to talk to you. He only relaxes his guard around you. He trusts you.”

  “He just wants to show me what he can do.”

  “But that’s just another way he expresses his affection for you, Professor.”

  Max tilted his head to the side and gave it some thought, but didn’t say anything. They left the examination room.

  “Who was he talking about?”

  “An old patient of ours. Dr. Hamilton was my old research collaborator.”

  Max hurried to the elevator, and Katya followed. They were silent as they left the hospital and walked toward the garden. The bright sun beat down on them, but the sea breeze was refreshing.

  “Since my brother was hospitalized two years ago, I’d been seeing Dr. Hamilton once a month to discuss treatments. Today is my first time seeing him in a year.”

  “I’m sorry for following you. First I went to the car dealer. When I came back to show you the car, you were just leaving. So I just followed. I knew it was wrong.”

  “I would’ve had to tell you at some point anyway.” Max signaled for Katya to sit on the bench. “I think I already told you my father committed suicide when I was 16.”

  Katya nodded.

  “My father was weak. He was afraid of what was coming. But my brother hasn’t succumbed. On the night of my father’s funeral, he and I promised that from then on, we would fight. This is our battle—and one we can’t afford to lose. My brother worked himself half to death. He attended college and worked at the same time. He decided to become a lawyer so he could make money quickly. He made money and invested it in my education. Thanks to my brother’s help, I was able to concentrate on my studies. I studied hard, because my life depended on it. We have to find a cure, and break this hereditary chain of misery.”

  Max watched as a young man and a teenage girl pushed an old man’s wheelchair up a hill. “You said you quit being a doctor and chose life science because of your interest in ‘life itself.’ I became a doctor to save myself and my brother. When I realized that medicine doesn’t have an answer I switched to life science.”

  Katya’s eyes were fixed on him.

  “When he got older and knew that the illness would begin soon, my brother told me he refused to commit suicide. He told me to research his body, and find a way to live on. To find what causes this abominable disease, and make it a thing of the past. And he said if I can’t, my body should be available to my kids so that they can keep fighting this battle.”

  Restless, Max stood up, then sat down again. “I couldn’t save my brother. I might not be able to save myself, either. But I don’t care what Alex says, I’m not having kids. I can’t stand the idea of my kids suffering the way we have.” He continued, muttering quietly, “My brother placed all his chips on me. And he lost that wager. I was helpless.”

  “I’m sorry for prying. I had no idea.”

  “It’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not a secret. It’s just a personal matter that’s got nothing to do with anybody. And now you happen to know. That’s all.”

  “Don’t be so dismissive of it.”

  “It’s the truth. The unavoidable reality.”

  “There’s something I have to apologize for.” Katya’s eyes were glued to Max. “I’m a research fellow at Cosmo Pharmaceuticals.” She averted her gaze and searched for words. “I really wanted to get a degree from an American university, and I needed a scholarship. I managed to get the Pauling Scholarship starting my second year. Until then, I was under a scholarship from Cosmo Pharmaceuticals. Ever since then, I’ve had a working relationship with Cosmo.”

  Cosmo Pharmaceuticals was a major company, headquartered in Munich, that had expanded globally. Their research and technology were among the highest in the world, and their facilities attracted the best researchers.

  “I know. I checked your work history.”

  “And you hired me anyway?”

  “I’m more convinced that was the right call with each passing day. Med school isn’t cheap. And I went to graduate school on a scholarship. I don’t see a problem.”

  “After graduating, I had to work for Cosmo for a while.”

  “That’s no crime.”

  “But my contract with the company hasn’t ended.” Katya looked at Max. “Professor Michaels was a research advisor at Cosmo. I asked him for a letter of recommendation. He doesn’t know anything, but Cosmo contracted me to find out what you’re researching. Just knowing what you’re working on in advance is valuable to them.”

  Max looked up at the hospital ward. It stood imposingly against the blue sky above.

  “But that’s not the only reason I came to you, Professor.” Katya’s voice was trembling, and after a long pause, she spoke once again. “The year I entered graduate school, I wrote a research paper on the relationship between embryonic stem cells and genes.”

  “I remember writing one, too.”

  “I’d been sitting on the idea since I was an undergrad. When the perfect experimental method came to me, and I started preparing, you published your dissertation. And it laid out the same technique.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt similarly stymied. But I took those setbacks as inspiration to keep going.”

  “It’s not that simple for me.” Katya sighed. “Don’t rush, but keep trying. Life is deep and short, but beautiful.”

  “I remember those words. That’s what I told a graduate student when I was selecting a dissertation for Nature. His idea was unique, but the proposed experimental process was too involved.”

  “This is the letter you sent me.”

  Katya took her wallet out of her pocket and retrieved a carefully folded piece of paper.

  “If I remember correctly, that proposal came to me from a male student.”

  “That was an upperclassman in the doctoral program I was in. My name was third on the list after my professor’s, but the idea was mine.”

  “I sent a message because I thought you had promise.”

  “I dreamed of working with you, Professor.” Katya’s glance returned to Max. “Are you surprised?”

  “I am surprised.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  “I got the feeling you weren’t just a researcher. A scientist with your skills and track record wouldn’t need to be an assistant. Besides, I don’t know any other life
scientists that know their way around a satellite phone. I have a favor to ask.” Max turned to face her. “I want you to help me.” He gripped her hands. “You’re brilliant and brave. And you understand me. I want you to take over my research when my symptoms manifest themselves, and my brain begins to be affected. Use me as research material.”

  “You’re so strong, and kind.” Katya said under her breath. “I wouldn’t be up to it, Professor. I’d go crazy.”

  She reached out and gripped his hand.

  Katya was the first to leave the hospital, after she said no to Max’s dinner invitation.

  Max went back to the lab after eleven that evening. The lights were still on in the experiment room, and he saw a shadowed figure bending over a microscope. The figure looked up.

  “It’s just as you said, Professor. Aska’s cells are strangely slow to divide. Her telomeres are several times longer than normal, and I’m seeing telomerase secretions, too. The telomerase definitely needs analyzing. It’s clearly different from your standard telomerase.” Perhaps from excitement, Katya was blushing.

  “Her cells can divide several times, no, dozens more times than usual.” The two screens showed the results of Aska’s cell and gene analyses. “But telomeres only matter for dividing cells such as skin and hair. I think non-dividing cells like internal organs including the heart have more of an impact on life span. We need to examine her brain neurons, myocardial cells, and muscle cells. Along with her reproductive cells,” she continued in hushed tones.

  “It could be,” Max said, “that all of Aska’s cells might develop into various organs based on the genetic information like embryonic stem cells.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “But she wasn’t an embryo.” Max and Katya knew ES cells worked only when the fertilized egg begins to proliferate.

  “If Aska’s cells act like ES cells, in her body, telomerase caused innumerable cell divisions, and special ES cells constantly replaced old cells with new cells. Eternal life.” Max shook his head as if to rub out those last two words. “The human body is full of mysteries. Only 5 percent of our DNA is used as genes. The remaining 95 percent is meaningless. But the percentage of Aska’s DNA that’s non-junk is 8 to 9 percent. It could even be in the double digits. It’s still undeciphered, but there’s no question there’s something there.”

  “Benchell and his men must have found a way to get at those genes,” Katya said. “That’s how they were able to stay that young even over the age of 100 . . .” She suddenly looked up. “Cell transplants. The babies were stolen from Domba for bone marrow transplants.”

  “I came to the same conclusion. The Nazis transplanted those special cells into themselves.”

  “If you try the same thing against your disease, it might work!”

  “But there are no donors. And there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “If we find Aska . . .” Katya swallowed that sentence. She pictured the charred bodies in the village. There was no way Aska had survived.

  “That village, cut off from the outside world, was a breeding ground for those with special genes. And the Nazis knew that.”

  “Why didn’t they transport them to a controlled environment? They were hiding them from the Nazi hunters, but it was still too dangerous to keep them in the middle of the jungle.”

  “They must have thought so, too. There had to be a better place to continue their research. Even if they hid in America, it would’ve been less dangerous than the Amazon.”

  Katya nodded.

  “Years ago, in an attempt to ‘civilize’ a village in the deep Amazon, they slapped clothes and shoes on the people, and brought in electricity. The gave them wheat, corn, and beef. In a year, the number of villagers decreased by half. At the time, they didn’t understand why.”

  Katya’s eyes were glued to Max.

  “Their bodies were built for life in the Amazon, isolated from the outside world. Their genes made them that way.”

  “What about Dona? She was in Europe.”

  “They didn’t die immediately upon contact with ‘civilization.’ Things go out of whack more gradually than that. Plus, there are differences between individuals and across age groups. Dona was over 100 years old. She was Gehlen’s wife for many years. Maybe she was able to adapt to a new environment. Either that, or . . .” He couldn’t think of what to say after that.

  “But, Professor, if that village was a ‘breeding ground,’ why did Benchell have all the villagers killed? They were carriers of the genes they needed. Benchell and his gang owe their extended youth to them.” Katya turned to the display. “It must mean they were no longer needed.”

  Max slowly nodded in reply. “They found another way to get those cells. They found a way to extend their life spans and avoid aging without relying on the villagers.” Those words hung ominously in the room.

  “That’s so scary.” Katya’s lips quivered.

  “But we’re just guessing.”

  “I can’t think of anything else it could possibly be.”

  “Maybe Hitler’s Reich is rising again, just like Feldman said.”

  “Aska has to be alive. I so want to believe she is,” she murmured.

  Max enlarged the microscope image. The cells spread to fill the entire screen, as if they were trying to tell him something. The cells, which retained their vibrant coloration, were still dividing. For a long time, the two stared at the pulsing cells.

  They christened Aska’s cells “A cells,” and the research unraveling her genes continued.

  CHAPTER 16

  When Max and Katya entered the lab building lobby, Dr. Phillips, another of the leading Nobel Prize candidates, put his hand on Max’s shoulder and spoke into his ear: “You’ve got to tell me where you got those cells. I hear they’re really something else. Telomeres many times longer than normal? Wow.”

  “Are you talking about planarians, or Drosophilidae flies?”

  “Let’s team up, Max! I have military contacts. I can snag us all the funding. I’ll scrounge up a cool million by next week.”

  Max removed Phillips’s hand.

  “Culture the stuff and you’re sitting on a gold mine. Sell it to pharmaceutical companies or research facilities. We’re talking seven digit figures, easy. Let’s start a company together.”

  He winked at Katya as he spoke. Katya frowned and turned aside.

  “I mean, they’re human cells. Let’s make some clones. You know, bring them while they’re in an embryonic state to a country where human cloning research isn’t banned. Though to be honest, I wouldn’t mind doing it here, either.”

  “Keep dreaming.”

  “All right, forget the company. How about we just collaborate on the research? I’ll be in charge of the cloning. I can’t wait to see what kind of freaks come out of it. You just have to donate the cells to me. They hand out Nobels to research teams, too.”

  “If it’s mouse or fly cells you want, I can give you some today. Cockroaches are showing great potential, too.”

  Phillips shrugged and got on the elevator. Katya motioned to Max to start walking.

  “Unbelievable,” said Katya, scowling. “Talk about the ugly American.”

  “How did info about our A cells leak?” asked Max.

  “Information is too open around here. We should copy a corporation’s example. From now on, I’ll do the DNA extraction and testing myself.”

  A week had passed since they visited the hospital. Katya never mentioned Alex, yet the sight of his damaged body was seared indelibly into both of their brains.

  Associate Professor Warren paid Max a visit, with a letter in his hand. He looked at Katya, and then turned to Max. He seemed to want Katya to excuse herself, and she was about to, but Max stopped her.

  “Anything you need to tell me, you say in front of her,” said Max. “She is my research partner.”

  Warren put the letter on his desk. “It’s from the Tomes Foundation.”

  Max picked up the letter. />
  “What’s going on? I don’t get it,” Warren asked.

  Max read it silently.

  “Bad news?” Katya asked Warren.

  “It’s a notice of termination of the research grant, in the amount of $400,000. That’s 20 percent of the lab’s annual budget. It’s going to wreak havoc on us.”

  Max put the letter down. “When I published the report last week, they said they were fairly happy with the results.”

  “Foundation officials said it wasn’t because of the research results, but rather a financial issue on their end, but I’ve heard an environmental NGO, Green Lands, is cozying up to Mr. Tomes. They’re at the forefront of the anti-genetically-modified-organism (anti-GMO) movement.”

  “Our research doesn’t have anything to do with GMOs.” Max picked up the phone and asked the secretary to get the Tomes Foundation on the line and said he’d like to talk to its director, George Tomes. He nodded along for a while, before hanging up without a word. “Looks like Tomes is in Europe. Though they were being pretty evasive.”

  “Is there something he doesn’t want to discuss with you?” Warren said, not exactly thrilled by this.

  “I’ll do something about it. Keep it a secret from the other researchers for now.”

  “Please do,” Warren said as he left the room.

  Max mulled it over. “Maybe this is a warning.”

  “No way! A warning from whom? Over what?”

  “We were attacked in both Germany and Domba. We could easily have been killed. The enemy Feldman is chasing is now trying to crush us.”

  “And that enemy is a Nazi war criminal hated the world over. Why would the Tomes Foundation be helping him?”

  “They’ve survived for more than sixty years because the world doesn’t unanimously hate them. There are still followers of Nazism all over the world.”

  “So you’re saying George Tomes is a Nazi sympathizer?”

  “He’s not. I know him well. But I’m sure there are people who can put pressure on him. The richest people in the world have their own issues. The fact he didn’t call me directly means he knows something he knows I won’t like.”