“Huh?”
“By programming for a preponderance of slow myosin—that’s one of the contractive muscle proteins—we can make your child a world-class weightlifter. If you want a sprinter, we can change the DNA to produce fast Two-a and Two-x myosins. You, incidentally, have a preponderance of slow myosin. You’re better at endurance over the long run. I’d like the chance to test that out one of these days.”
“That’s a joke, right? About the muscles, I mean.”
“Sorry. Fact is, it’s one of the simple qualities we can tailor into your child. Other things, like resistance to a communicable disease, get a bit more dicey. Something that people don’t understand is that in nature, everything becomes a trade-off. If we tinker with the immunogenetics to build a resistance to certain gram-negative streptococcal bacteria on one hand, we increase susceptibility to infectious bacilli on the other. What is taken in one place, must be given back somewhere else.”
“Good God, you’re not joking.”
“You, my dear Christal, have a susceptibility to multiple sclerosis. I’m not saying that you’re going to get it—odds are that you won’t—but with the right preconditions, the proper viral vector, and a stressed immune system, you could. It’s because of a protein inconsistency in the myelin sheath in your nerves. It’s easily fixable so that your descendants won’t have it.”
She shifted, tensing. “You found that in that sample of mine you’ve been working on?”
He glanced away again. “We fixed your disposition to osteoarthritis, too. It was a simple base-pair substitution that will add elasticity to the hyaline cartilage. On the other hand, I did nothing to change your sebaceous and maxillary glands.”
“Huh?”
“I like the way you smell, Anaya.”
“¡Madre de Dios!”
“Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have said that”
She reached out, laying a slim hand on his arm. “I’m a little stunned is all. Talk about Alice through the looking glass! One minute I’m running an investigation in LA and the next I’m talking to the Cheshire cat.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. These things you’re doing? Stealing DNA, changing it? Curing diseases and selling babies? My God, how come no one is screaming their head off? Where’s the Church? What’s the Pope say? Where’s the righteous indignation of the president, the senators, and Congress? Why doesn’t anybody care?”
“Easy, Anaya.” He reached, out and caught the balled fist she was clenching.
She stared angrily into his eyes. “Well?”
He gave a paternal smile that soothed some of the ruffle in her feathers. “You know Senator Baber? The one on the Senate ethics committee?”
“Tennessee, right?”
“I think so. He was herelast year.”
“hush?”
“We cloned a new prostate for him. His old one was enlarged and precancerous. The story I heard was that he’d rather have a new one than lose his sexual potency.”
“Cloned a new prostate? Wait a minute! Nobody transplants prostates!”
“At Genesis Athena we do. He had to fly to Yemen for the procedure.”
“Sexual potency? He’s sixty!”
“The young lady accompanying him—I think he called her a ‘staffer’—wasn’t nearly that old.” His smile widened. “If you’ll recall, Baber’s wife died of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. You would know that better as Lou Gehrig’s disease. It’s not a pretty way to go, and it tore Baber apart So, at the same time we implanted his new prostate, we did a simple gene scan on his daughter, Marissa. On her twenty-first chromosome we found a missense mutation at the q22.1 location—a SOD1 condition for the autosomal dominant trait”
“That’s not English,” Christal objected.
“Oh, yes, right. Sorry. It means she got the ALS gene from her mother and it would override its allele. That’s the functioning gene from her father’s chromosome. In short, she was perhaps five years from the onset of the disease, so we ran a gene therapy, using a tailored viral vector to replace the malfunctioning gene. As time passes, the inserted gene will produce enough enzymes to break down the toxins that cause ALS. Baber won’t have to watch his daughter die in agony the way his wife did.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that just like my example with bacterial resistance earlier demonstrated, what you lose on one hand, is taken on the other. In short, do you expect world leaders to decry Genesis Athena in public while in private we’re restoring the gift of life to them and their loved ones?”
Christal sat back. “But these other things!”
“What?” Brian lifted his hand as a supplicant. “You’re drooling mad that they’re going to sell your DNA? That people like me have been held against our wills? Do you think that Senator Baber is going to call out the dogs? Genesis Athena gave him back his sex and his daughter. Where do you think he’s going to come down?”
“There are other leaders.”
“Ah? The director of your FBI had a procedure done at Bethesda Naval Hospital last year, remember?”
“Yes. Something about deterioration of the optic nerve. After a couple of months he was back to twenty-twenty vision.”
“Want to take a stab at who licensed that procedure? That was actually our beloved Gregor’s brainchild. He was the one who thought to utilize that particular protein matrix for delivery to the degenerating cells. The point being that if push came to shove, would your FBI director have his heart and balls behind an investigation of Genesis Athena?” He paused. “Gregor even hinted that your director may have been responsible for your friend Hank’s recruitment. Well, for the initial phone call at least.”
At her stunned look, he added, “It’s more than just the ZoeGen, Christal. It’s hospitals, pharmaceuticals, gene therapies, and a thousand patents in molecular biology. Their tentacles extend throughout the medical field. They offer life and hope where there hasn’t been before.”
“So what do we do?”
He stared down at his hands again. “I’ve spent five years fighting them, and what’s it got me? My friends are gone, my life has been stolen, and my universe is this little patch of deck in the guts of the ZoeGen.” He reached out, tentatively touching her hair. “For the first time, I’ve found something that I want. A reason to finally say all right, take their bloody settlement, and go someplace to try to rebuild my life.”
She didn’t understand at first. The sadness mixed with hope deep in his eyes sent a flutter through her. “God, Brian, you hardly know me!”
“Right. And I’m not trying to be a boor. A woman like you has guys hitting on her all the time. It’s not like that. From the moment I first saw you, all hot and sweaty, I was stopped short in my tracks.” He withdrew his hand. “But, no matter what, take their offer, Christal. For me. Get the hell out of here, bite your bloody tongue, and be glad of having your life back.”
“What about you?”
He looked away. “Assuming they actually believe me, I’d like to look you up out there. On the outside. When there’s just the two of us. You know, maybe do dinner and the movies. Just to see if I find you so wondrously attractive as I do in this bloody hole.” A shrug. “I want a chance to be normal with you, that’s all.”
“You don’t think they’ll let you go?”
“I fought them a long time, Christal. McEwan once told me he’d see me rot in hell before I’d breathe unfiltered air.”
She bit her lip, frowning as she considered. “No matter what, Brian, I’m not leaving here without you.”
“Now that,” McEwan’s familiar voice interrupted, “might be quite a feat.”
They turned to see McEwan leaning in the door. He stepped in, one eyebrow raised. “Thinking about leaving? Really?”
Brian sighed wearily. “Oddly, I’ve been trying to talk Ms. Anaya into accepting the offer she’s been made.” His voice dropped. “I’ve been thinking of accepting, too.”
“You, Brian?” McEwan’s voic
e mocked. “After all your years of protestation and principle?”
Brian’s soft chuckle was heavy with resignation. “What am I going to do? Sit here in the bowels of this ship for the rest of my life? You’ve won, McEwan. You and Genesis Athena.” He paused as McEwan studied his expression. “I’m tired.”
“Yes,” McEwan agreed. “I suppose you are. But why should we believe that you’ll play by our rules?”
“Maybe because I’ve never had a reason before.”
McEwan turned his attention to Christal, as if seeing her anew. She tensed under his probing eyes. He said, “Ibrahim and I were just running a few tests on a blood and tissue sample taken from a client. You know, to test for compatibility? We’ve just made a fascinating discovery. Too bad you weren’t there, Brian.”
“Oh?”
McEwan’s eyes hadn’t left Christal’s face. “The client is already aboard. A Ms. Jennifer Weaver here for an implantation. That name mean anything to you?”
Christal caught herself, struggling to keep her face straight. Jennifer Weaver?
“No.” Brian answered absently, “Should it?”
“Maybe not now, but she’s going to make history soon. She’s here for a Sheela Marks copy.”
Christal imagined Sheela’s face staring down from the screen. For a Sheela Marks implant? Sheela hadn’t come here, had she? Dear God, was she aboard the ZoeGen?
“Oh, it’s a little coincidental, that’s all.” McEwan’s eyes never wavered. “We’ve just never seen a perfect match between a client and a donor before. It was one hundred percent the same. Right down to point mutations.”
“What?” Brian sounded perplexed. “That’s impossible!”
“Yes. Quite.”
Christal’s heart began to hammer. She had no idea what McEwan was reading from her expression. Jennifer Weaver? God, it had to be! Was Lymon with her? Had they tracked her down? If so, then it was only a matter of time until the cavalry appeared.
“There’s got to be a mistake,” Brian said irritably. “Someone mixed the samples. It’s a joke.”
“Oh, it’s not a joke.” McEwan smiled at Christal with a subtle satisfaction. “As Ms. Anaya will be able to tell you soon enough, I have a very sophisticated sense of humor. One with a wee bit o’ time delay.”
Brian was frowning as McEwan turned on his heel and strode from the room.
“What was that all about?” Christal tried to control her racing pulse.
“The bit about time delay? I have no idea, but there’s only one way a donor and client can have a perfect match.”
She placed a hand on his arm, chafing under the scrutiny of the security cameras. Would they be watching her? Recording her reaction? “Explain.”
“Prior to beginning the process of implanting an embryo into a host mother, we do a series of simple tests to determine compatibility. The first thing we look at is blood type, since blood is the interface between mother’s uterus and the fetal placenta. We want to know if Rh is a factor, as well as any of a number of other genetic predispositions. If we find no conflicts, our physicians will give the woman a complete physical, and inject her to stimulate ovulation and the release of multiple oocytes, egg cells from the ovaries. After we collect the eggs, we’ll evaluate them for morphology and resources, choose the best, and replace the nuclear DNA with the donor’s.”
“Yes, I know all that. What did McEwan mean they matched?”
“Christal, the only way they can match one hundred percent is if they come from the same person.”
She felt the blood draining from her face. “Brian, we’ve got to talk.” She glanced meaningfully up at the camera. “There’s got to be a place.”
46
When Peter finished with Sheela, he looked at Lymon and Sid, asking, “Would you gentlemen like to see your room?”
Lymon, Sid in tow, followed Peter down the B Deck hall to the next suite. This proved to be a duplicate of Sheela’s, right down to the stock of fine liquors in the bar.
“Is this right?” Lymon asked. “Generally quarters for security are somewhat, well, less expensive.”
Pete clasped his hands, his perfect professional smile unblemished. “This was done at Ms. Weaver’s request, sir. If you would like other quarters, we would be more than happy to comply, but as I’m sure you can understand, it will have to come through her.”
“I’m sure this will be fine, Peter.” He slipped another fifty from his money clip and handed it over. “Thank you very much for your courtesy to Ms. Weaver.”
“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else?”
“No, that will be all.”
Sid, in the meantime, had taken to wandering around the room, looking carefully at the walls and ornamentation. “Quite the digs. I could get used to this business.” A hesitation. “Uh, that is if you think I work out, sir.”
At the old familiar tone in his voice, Lymon turned wary. “It’s not always like this.”
“I would hope not,” Sid added cryptically as he turned away from one of the wall sconces. “Uh, you said something about checking out the corridors? Getting the lay of the land? Maybe we’d better be doing that.”
“I did.” Lymon bent, laying his plastic case on the table. As he began undoing the combination lock, Sid leaned close to whisper, “If there’s anything there you don’t want seen, you’d better not open it.”
Lymon froze, reading Sid’s eyes. “Right.” Instead, he strode over to the phone and lifted the receiver.
“Operator. How may I help you?”
“Ms. Weaver’s suite, please.”
On the second ring, Sheela answered, “Hello?”
“Ms. Weaver, it’s Lymon. We’ll be advancing the hallways. If you need anything, please ring my pager.”
“Thank you, Lymon. Sometime soon I must talk to you. We have some things to clear up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tried to sound contrite and hung up. Looking at Sid, he said, “Let’s go.”
He was turning when a knock sounded. Lymon met Sid’s curious gaze and shrugged. Opening the door, he admitted an attractive man in a gray suit, white shirt, and tie. The blond hair had been combed back to reveal a high forehead. He had a professional smile under his wary blue eyes.
“Hello. I’m Neal Gray, head of ZoeGen security.”
Lymon hesitated for the slightest instant, and recovered immediately as he recognized the guy. He’d last seen him in the parking lot outside Christal’s Marriott. Lymon forced his most bluff smile, extending his hand. “Lymon Bridges, and my partner, Sid Harness. We work for June Rosen’s security firm. Glad to meet you.”
The man’s shake was firm as Lymon searched his eyes for any hint of recognition. Would he know him? Lymon had been wearing a three-quarter helmet that night, with a full-face visor. While Gray’s face had been clearly visible in the sodium lights, how much of his own could have been seen?
“What can we do for you, Mr. Bridges? I came just as soon as I could after receiving Peter’s call. I trust everything’s been satisfactory so far.”
“It has. You have excellent staff.” Lymon thrust his hands into his pockets. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves, let you know who we were. Familiarize ourselves with your system, and see if there was anything we could do to make your job easier.”
“We appreciate that. Peter should have shown you your rooms. If you have a minute, why don’t we take a tour of the ship? Your advance, if you will.”
“We’d like that.” Lymon kept his smile in place. “After you”
They followed Gray out into the hallway as the man said, “In all honesty, I don’t think you guys are going to have much to do. Believe me, we’ve got all the bases covered. Look at this assignment as having your own semiprivate cruise ship. And since your principal was gracious enough to provide a suite, I think you’re going to enjoy your stay.”
“Are we expected to share the king bed?” Sid asked dourly, eyes hooded.
“Peter didn’t tell you? The love
seat across from the TV folds out. Or we could have a second bed brought up.”
“The foldout will be fine.” Sid grinned humorlessly. “Boss, I’d actually prefer the foldout.”
“That’s it, suck up,” Lymon chided, trying to stay in character.
Gray pointed at the hallway. “I’m sure you’ve already noticed that we have security cameras up and down the hallways. As a result we can control movement and access through any part of the visitors’ portion of the ship. B Deck is yours to roam, gentlemen. Please feel free to use any of the facilities. We have a weight and exercise room.” He pointed to a door marked with a golden barbell. “The nearest fire extinguishers are at either end of the hallway.”
“What about first aid?” Lymon asked.
“You didn’t bring a kit?” Gray asked innocently.
“In my suitcase,” Lymon replied dryly.
“As I thought.” Gray clasped his hands together. “Dial zero on any phone. The operator is on duty twenty-four/seven. Simply state the nature of the medical emergency and your location. Two trained EMTs will be on-site within minutes if not seconds. Because of the nature of our work, we have a small hospital on board. We can handle anything from heart attacks to hangnails.”
“Quite an operation”
“You’d be surprised.” The man’s voice was filled with irony. Did he mean medically, or the ship? Gray pointed at another of the wooden doors. The shape of a pool table had been engraved on the gold plate. “This is the game room. Pool, snooker, card tables, the latest video games, that sort of thing.”
As they proceeded down the hallway, they were shown the dining room, library, business center, and small lounge with a dark bar in the rear.
“Should I call ahead?” Lymon asked as he eyed the empty room.
“If you’d like. We can have her favorite beverage waiting, assuming the medical people clear it.” Gray pointed to one of the cameras. “Otherwise feel free to just drop in and we’ll know immediately and have someone coming on the run.”
The Athena Factor Page 47