by Ron S. Nolan
"That’s wonderful, but I had an idea last night that fits in perfectly with your advice to let things cool down at BGI."
Benjamin moved closer. “Go ahead, new ideas are my specialty. Tell me about it.”
Astra replied, “Okay, my plan is to put my longevity research on hold and start working on a safe haven for endangered species of plants and animals. Unlike the other underground repositories that store seeds, clippings and living specimens, we will be working at the genetic level using fertilized embryos, stem cells and blood samples. That way we won’t require a large physical space for storage…just a few CryoVats should do the trick. I call it the 'Ark Project’. My plan is to use the Ark to serve as sanctuary to repopulate the planet…that is if and when the climate finally cools down. Could you help me set up a non-profit to take in donations of equipment and money?”
"Sure that’s easy. What will you call your organization?"
She smiled and answered, "Vidas–it means 'life."
******
After the meeting with Benjamin, Astra went directly to her lab and downloaded the research findings from her
BGI computer account onto a moisture-proof, insulated, virtually indestructible microdisc. After giving the tiny disc a quick good luck kiss, she inserted it into Madeline's golden locket and slipped it around her neck.
Next Astra accessed the section in her account devoted to research methods and procedures where she made a series of subtle changes that would eventually sabotage any efforts to replicate her results. The system would work at the outset and then, after a preset number of chromosome divisions, it would suddenly shutdown. The new version would allow fast growth in Phase I and then revert to the normal rate of aging in Phase II without any prolongation of lifespan. The outcome was that treated flatworms would hatch overnight, grow very rapidly for a few hours, then only live a normal lifetime. This was very different from the results she had recently achieved in which her treated worms lived way beyond their cohort’s normal limits. Now if Horowitz tried her modified procedure on mammalian species, it should have the same results–phenomenally fast maturation at first followed by a sudden return to a normal growth rate with no increase in longevity.
She copied the altered files onto a second microdisc, purged all data from her BGI account and then called Horowitz’s secretary who informed her that the Director’s schedule was currently open if she could get there quickly.
When she entered his office, Horowitz got right to the point. “Did you bring your report?”
“Yes of course. That is why I am here.” She held up the microdisc and said, "Sir, before I hand this over there is one more favor I wish to ask."
"And what would that be?"
"I would very much like to do some tests on using cryo freezing technology to archive fertilized embryos. It might prove to be a useful technique to help restore endangered species–which we seem to be getting more and more of every day. I call it the Ark Project."
"The Ark eh? Hmm…let me think for a minute. That is quite a diversion from the company's strategic path. How will you cover the costs?"
"I plan to start with my own personal funds. Then form a non-profit to take in donations.”
“All right; I will give you a three month break on rent...see I'm not such a bad guy after all. But remember, to stay on board here you need to get your act together.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost time for my four a clock meeting. Is there anything else?”
“No sir, thank you.”
Astra put the microdisc with her findings onto the Director’s palm and left the office feeling guilty yet relieved that she had only delivered the 'doctored' version of her results.
******
As soon as Astra left his office, Horowitz closed and locked his door then transferred the files from the microdisc to one of his secret accounts. He was impressed with the hundreds of pages of text, figures and drawings. If she has found a clock protein similar to SIRT1, that is amazing news. She may have even hit the immortality jackpot.
He forwarded the data to Malcolm Reynolds at Forever, Inc., Gerald Horowitz’s highly secret research center hidden on the Central Coast and then he selected an encrypted connection on his microcell and followed up with a voice call.
"Yes, Malcolm this could be the lucky break we have been waiting for. I want you to make this our number one priority. You have full financial support, buy anything or hire anyone you need. And yes...as fast a turnaround as you can manage. And yes again...Zone Red security protocols are to be followed at all times. Contact me when you initiate the run, then send me daily reports. Good luck."
Horowitz put his feet back up on his desk, opened a drawer and poured himself a stiff shot of bourbon. What a great discovery...too bad Astra, you won't be here that much longer. Who knows, maybe your Ark project will make you rich and famous. He laughed to himself. But I doubt it!
Horowitz poured another drink and then sent a text message to the head of BGI security which ordered him to immediately initiate a 24-hour video surveillance of Astra's lab including the monitoring of all computer activity, e-mails and voice communications
The next call was one that Horowitz was very much looking forward to. "Reverend LeRoque this is Gerald Horowitz at Forever, Inc. One of the BGI post docs just made a major breakthrough that could be a game changer. She found a new set of genes that control the aging clock! No, not in humans, but in worms. I know that sounds strange, but she has laid out a roadmap in her study that we can readily adapt to our secret work here at Forever, Inc. that relates directly to humans."
The Reverend asked, "Are you certain that you can follow her procedures?"
"Yes sir. She just handed me the files that contain her data, methods and conclusions. This could be the hidden link that we have been searching for. The funding that you have been providing us through the Seekers of Divine Light is critical to the success of our mission."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"No Reverend, no one at BGI knows about our collaboration. Thank you for believing in me."
"Need I remind you that time is of the essence?"
"No, Reverend, I understand; we are getting older every day...but trust me, if this works our time will come. Human beings are basically machines, and like machines, they can be repaired. Now that we are seeing the emergence of the Singularity combined with the new genetic tools that we are developing to control the aging clock, time will begin to have a whole new meaning. "
"The sooner the better. I am concerned about my wife and after all that she has been through; I couldn't stand to lose her. Just keep me posted."
"Will do. Goodbye Reverend."
"May God be with you, Gerald."
-- CHAPTER 7 --
Six Months Later
The Christmas holidays were always trying times for Astra because she was single and unattached. Her parents and friends incessantly tried to fix her up with potential mates, but she had yet to find the right man…maybe someday, but right now her career preempted her social life. Today was Monday, December 31, 2029, the final day of the decade and, appropriately, Astra's last day at BGI.
The months following her last meeting with Director Horowitz had been filled with sense of sadness about resigning her first academic research position that alternated with a growing excitement that the Ark was her true calling–at least for the immediate future. Sabien had come through with the CryoVat as he had promised and it now harbored its first specimens–her stock of genetically altered flatworms.
Astra was elated that Madeline and Ben had raised nearly fifty thousand USACO dollars for the newly formed VIDAS Foundation from their many friends and paranormal enthusiasts and Ruth had come through with a small workspace in a shutdown factory basement in Oakland. The move was going faster than expected thanks to the help provided by the pair of UC Berkeley students wearing VIDAS t-shirts that were loading her gear into a rented van at the service entrance in the rear of the building.
&nbs
p; Astra stood next to the new CryoVat waiting for the helpers to return to move the unit when the head of security opened the lab door and looked around. He said, "Wow, I see you have made a lot of progress since I was here earlier today. I checked with supply and accounting. It looks like you are in compliance and free to go.”
He pointed at the CryoVat. "Are you taking this too? If so, I need clearance."
Astra called up the information on her notepad and showed it to the officer. He wanted to be certain and asked, "Is it correct that this CryoVat is your personal property and only contains frozen flatworms–no mammalian genetic stock whatsoever? Is that right Dr. Sturtevant?"
Astra showed him the content description on her notepad and answered, "That is correct."
"Okay, looks good. There is just one more thing. It's just a formality, but the Director insisted."
"What is it?"
"It's just a standard security body scan...no big deal." He pulled a sensor wand out of his pocket and showed it to her.
Astra hadn't expected this. Darn it! This is bad news. The scanner might reveal the microchip that I hid in my locket.
At that moment, two of the VIDAS entered the lab pulling a dolly to move the CryoVat. Astra told the security guard, "Give me a second while I deal with this. I'll be right with you. We are having champagne that one of the office staff dropped off." She pointed to a bottle on the counter in the lab kitchenette. "Help yourself."
"Sounds good. Don't mind if I do." As soon as the officer turned his back, Astra hurriedly slipped off her locket, placed it in a waterproof plastic sleeve and dropped it into a slot in the CryoVat. After she secured the lid, she hurried to hold the lab door open while the VIDAS wheeled the CryoVat and its companion liquid nitrogen cylinder out the door.
After she passed the scan, the officer handed her his notepad for her thumbprint and headed out. Astra finished her cup of champagne, tossed it into the trash and took one last look around the now empty lab. She wiped a tear from her eye, shrugged and closed the door. As she walked down the hall for the last time, she ran into Director Horowitz who was escorting the new tenant, a skinny young guy wearing old-fashioned geek spectacles, to Astra’s former lab.
Horowitz briefly shook her hand and hurried past her. He yelled back, Sorry I can't stay and talk–got a flight to catch."
She took a deep breath, pushed open the heavy door to the service garage and gracefully slid into the seat next to the CryoVat. The two VIDAS helpers sitting in the front seats turned around and gave her a round of high fives. At last she was headed for her new home base in Oakland and a new life that she had never imagined!
-- CHAPTER 8 --
USACO Climate Lab–Arctic Tundra, Alaska
Dr. Torch Sanders, a tall, good looking, young man with a close-cropped beard halted at the security desk on his way out of the Climate Lab. The guard greeted Torch, "Good evening Doc. Sorry I need to check your pack. Someone has been stealing lab equipment. Where ya bound for this late at night?"
Torch opened his pack and replied, "Hi Mac, just going out to take some readings." He pointed to a box that looked like an expensive kid's toy. "This little gem is a mini-mass spectrometer. It’s on loan from the WSF."
The guard wrote down the serial number, "Thank you, take care, Doc."
As Torch loaded his gear onto a hovercraft, the moon shined brilliantly, silhouetting the lab complex against the star-filled sky. The building lights glowed a dull red in order to enhance night vision for those working late in the observatory.
Torch tapped a code into the console. The hovercraft automatically lifted upward and then moved from solid ground to a channel in the bog and picked up speed. Torch keyed a switch on the dash and the cabin air reverberated with new-country music. He leaned back, put his feet up on the dash, and lit a fancy Cuban cigar.
Twenty minutes later, Torch stubbed out his nearly spent cigar as the hovercraft moved from the channel to solid ground. He took manual control and shut down next to a shed at one of his many study sites. He unloaded the equipment, set up the mini-mass spec on a tripod and aimed it at the moon overhead. He chuckled…although it truly was a spectrometer; it was also a long distance, green light laser transmitter. As he waited for the signal to connect, he laughed at the thought that he was phoning home–just like ET.
Torch keyed the microphone. "Can you read me, Dad?"
The reply from Robert Sanders, who was wearing a spacesuit and standing outside the Deep Space Mining Moonbase, was nearly instantaneous. "I read you loud and clear, Son. The picture looks good too."
"How's the weather up there?" Torch asked.
"I'm out by the solar array. We just hit sunset and the temperature has dropped to two hundred fifty below. Got my suit heater on max."
"Well, it's a balmy seventy degrees here. Not bad for nighttime in the Arctic in mid-winter. Anything new?"
"Let's see, a few days ago, a meteor shower knocked out the solar array but it is not that serious since we just entered the dark phase and have a couple of weeks to make repairs. Otherwise, just the usual. I keep getting more requests for lab space. I set up this company to mine the moon; now I am turning into a bloody landlord."
Torch joked, "Well, whatever pays the rent."
"How about you, is your project going okay?"
"Well Dad, Alaska now has millions of our X-Plant nanomachines sucking carbon out of the soil and we finally got approval to move ahead from CHIRUS–you know, the new government-corporate state formed by the union of China, Russia and North Korea–not sure if you are keeping up with Earth politics. Anyway, CHIRUS gave us permission to seed the Siberian tundra. The X-Plants concept works Dad, but..."
"What Son, what's the problem?"
It's just too little, too late to stop the meltdown. USACO keeps telling everyone that the X-Plant Project is working, but it's not enough to make a real difference. The planet is in serious trouble!"
"How can you tell?"
"My partner, Sabien, developed a new program that analyzes heat emission data from around the world. He thought he was being clever and named it the ‘Torch Index’ or ‘T-I’ for short."
"I always knew that someday my son would become famous."
"Oh Dad...but not this way. Back in 2020, the T-I would have been around 6.5. It's at 9.2 today. That's a very disturbing increase to occur in only a single decade."
"That does sound serious!"
"It is. Our model predicts that at a T-I level of 10.0, the world's forests and grasslands will be so dried out that it won't take much to set them all ablaze."
"Not good at all. Any more bad news?"
"Well...something just doesn't feel right. There are a lot of suspicious things happening down here. It doesn't help that USACO Petroleum just discovered a massive new deep-oil deposit only fifty miles from here. Now there are lots of oil people hanging around the lab. They won't be happy until they have squeezed out the very last barrel of oil."
"Is there any way that I can help? I have some good connections in the mining biz."
"Maybe down the road. The scene at the Climate Lab isn't good. I don't trust the director. He seems pretty much in the pocket of the oil barons–doesn't even try to hide it. All communications are being monitored–that's why I wanted to use this secure laser link, too easy for the bad guys to listen in on the lab’s COM system."
"I figured you would eventually fill me in about that."
"Plus...someone is stealing lab equipment. I don't trust anyone at the lab anymore except Sabien, but the director thinks that he’s one of the suspects."
"What kind of equipment?
"Mostly cryogenic components along with some recharging systems."
"Son, you sound really frazzled; it might be time to take a break, get back up here for a while. This coming Sunday's shuttle load is light. You could grab a seat on it."
"Okay Dad, that's tempting. I'll give it some thought. I hate to give up on anything, especially something important...like the end of
the world!"
"I do have some bad news. One of your cows is missing."
"What?"
"Take care, Son."
"I love you, Dad."
Torch looked up at the moon and gave a small wave. His father gazed down at Earth and mirrored the gesture.
-- CHAPTER 9 --
The Cessna QuadCopter lurched sharply to the left as it lifted off from the BGI parking lot then gently righted as the pilot corrected the rotor pitch. He looked over at Dr. Horowitz and said, "No need to worry; it's just a bubble off the hot asphalt. But please make sure your seat belt is securely fashioned."
Horowitz grumbled, "I didn't count on a roller coaster ride."
"Like I said Director. No need to worry. On hot days like this, we are bound to hit a few thermal updrafts. It’s getting worse every year with global warming and new development. Meanwhile most of the beach towns have been flooded by the rising sea level. Okay, where to? Navigation Control said that you didn't specify a destination."
Horowitz typed the coordinates into the armrest keypad and a map appeared on the pilot's monitor. Horowitz pointed to the blinking destination signal and explained, "We are heading for a private cryogenic depository. Just follow Highway 101 South. The location we’re heading for is on the coast near Monterey."
The pilot tilted the copter sideways and pointed down. "Check it out! That's Highway 101. Ten lanes of bumper-to-bumper cars and trucks on the ground and four magneto powered rail lines running fifty feet above the ground–most all guided by AI robots. I think you will enjoy this ride a lot more than if you were stuck down there in that madness. You said ‘cryogenic repository’. What's that?"