The God Organ

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  Jonathan folded his arms. “No, but they might argue that we need an individual FDA Class Three approval for each and every variation of genetic code we inject into our patients. And we both know that’s not in our best interests—it’s far too costly.”

  Matthew reckoned that it wasn’t just too costly, but also borderline impossible. Trying to prove the safety of every iteration of a customized product for each individual patient was daunting. That could mean hundreds more experiments for each of LyfeGen’s thousands of customers each year. While it might keep him busy, it wouldn’t keep the company’s financials afloat.

  Jonathan sat down and folded his hands together on the desktop. A projection image of his wife and son, smiling and waving, sat near his clasped hands. “I need this job, and you do, too. If we get caught cutting corners in regulations—or if that’s what the Board of Directors wants to claim, using us as a scapegoat—we could be out of here. I don’t want to have to fire anyone else.”

  With those words, Matthew let out an audible sigh. He fought to hold back a smile. He wasn’t going to lose his job. At least, not now.

  But Jonathan appeared stolid. Almost frighteningly so. “If we lose what we have now, no biotech company is going to hire us. They’ll think we can’t do our job, especially if they think we failed on our own flagship product. Success is in all of our best interests here.”

  “Absolutely. I won’t let you down.”

  Jonathan’s face froze. “We’ll see. In any case, I’m offering you a promotion of sorts.”

  “A promotion? For what?”

  Jonathan let out a derisive laugh. “I’ve got a feeling you’re going to enjoy it more than running the same regulatory experiments every day. I’ve noticed the invention disclosures you’ve submitted. You’ve had some decent ideas. So I’m going to give you an opportunity here to do a little regulation and research combined work.”

  “That’s great,” Matthew said. He smiled. “What will I be doing?”

  “I want you to work on a way to combine the updates for every patient into one package. That way, instead of releasing a Sustain update for each and every disease each time we come up with one for each and every individual patient, we can package a whole bunch of them in one single batch, once per year. One batch that will work for every single person with a Sustain. That should cut down on our costs and make it easier if the FDA gets more stringent on us.”

  “Okay. But how would we get each DNA package to respond specifically to each unique patient?”

  “That’s what you get to work on.” Jonathan smirked.

  The enormity of the project eclipsed Matthew’s excitement. He couldn’t fathom transfecting every single patient with the same DNA and somehow getting each of their implanted Sustain organs to utilize it all properly. His smile faded at the realization of what his new responsibilities would mean. It seemed to be an insurmountable task that he’d be facing alone. He couldn’t do it. He might as well have been fired. His expression grew dour.

  Jonathan belted out another deep guffaw. “Don’t worry. You’re going to have some help.”

  “Who?”

  “Do you know Jacqueline Harper?”

  Jacqueline’s vivid blue eyes materialized in Matthew’s head, along with her shapely nose and elegant cheekbones. “Yes, I think I do.”

  “You’ll be getting to know her a whole lot better now. Or at least you should. I’ve designated a lab, complete with any equipment you might need, specifically for this project. The two of you will be working on this full-time. She’s already been working on the project for a while and could use the extra hands to help get this out the door.”

  Matthew nodded, now excited by the anticipation of both of them working on the project. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind by envisioning how Audrey and he might celebrate his promotion when he arrived home.

  Jonathan ended the meeting and Matthew started to stand. “Wait a second. You said this will be part regulations, too. It all sounds like research to me.”

  “Ah, yes,” Jonathan said. “Well, you two aren’t supposed to be doing pure research, since you’re both technically regulatory personnel. So if by some chance the FDA does come to audit us, you and Jacqueline get to be in charge of that, too.”

  “Understood.”

  “If we do get audited, you might look into the doctors’ practices. Could be that they’re actually the ones responsible for Joel’s death.”

  Matthew grimaced. “Are you suggesting—”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. Just keep an open mind.”

  Matthew quietly stood, with his eyes focused on Jonathan’s untidy desk.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be getting a raise, too. Might be enough that you can get your own Sustain.” Jonathan laughed. For the second time, Matthew imagined what Jonathan’s belly would look like rolling with the man’s hearty snorting if he hadn’t had his own Sustain.

  Chapter 5

  Hannah Boyd

  October 16, 2063

  “The Lord hath decreed to His children that we shall not judge lest we be judged ourselves. It is not up to us to decide the fate of those the Lord has judged in His divine wisdom; nor may I claim to possess the wisdom of our almighty God. But He has spoken to me and I have heard His sweet words.

  “Our God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit and all things good, has delivered upon me a message. Thus, it goes: ‘The false prophet of humanity’s immortality on Earth has fallen. Do not worship the false idols brought forth by men claiming to be of a scientific and benevolent nature. Do not be tempted or swayed by their promises of life everlasting. For the Earth is penance for Humanity and Heaven will receive thee when thou art worthy.’

  “I am but a man, created in the image of God. But no more than that. Far less than a god. We truly only have one Creator of life and harbinger of death and He resides in a Heaven far more glorious than Earth. A Heaven in which we must all strive to be received. Lord, we are not worthy to receive You, but only say the word, and we shall be healed. So it goes.”

  The bald man at the pulpit entranced Hannah. Her auburn hair neatly parted, she squinted through square, black-framed glasses. She watched Father Cooney’s hands as he gestured emphatically in concert with the thunderous wave of his voice.

  Just months ago, Brian had sat by her side in the pew on Sundays. His voice, though always out of tune, had nevertheless projected boldly during the hymns as she mouthed the words, afraid to sing aloud.

  Now she sat alone, attending service on any morning that work didn’t interfere with, desperate to fill the void Brian had left behind.

  From the front pews to the back, people leaned forward with widened eyes, enraptured. A lone baby cried out, but Father Cooney’s voice overpowered its howling.

  “We shall not pretend to be false gods walking this Earth. For God has walked the face of this Earth, offering His holy redemption and forgiveness in the body of our savior, Jesus Christ. And He shall rise again, but it is an abomination to pretend we are Him.”

  Hannah’s head bobbed up and down.

  “I fear that we have seen His retribution in taking the life of Joel Cobb. We must heed His warning and follow the true path to His love as mortal human beings in flesh and blood, created in His image. His holy image. An image we shall not tarnish.

  “I remind you of a reading from the Book of Corinthians, chapter thirteen, verses sixteen and seventeen: ‘Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.’”

  Hannah reminded herself that she had already allowed herself to be defiled by Brian. And he had disappeared, leaving her with only shame and guilt, though she had tried to make it right by God. She hoped He would show her forgiveness, and guide her on His path for her.

  “Shall we defile ourselves with the sin of pride and arrogance, thinking ourselves
above God?”

  Hannah shook her head. Her bangs fell over her eyes and around her glasses. “No,” she whispered. “No, we should not.”

  “Shall we take it upon ourselves to push God out of the temple of our bodies? Shall we corrupt the holy image of Him, the Creator, by tampering with His creation?

  “We shall not!” Father Cooney’s voice boomed, resonating in the rafters and echoing against the impressive stained-glass windows on either side of the cathedral.

  “God has told man that ‘if any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy.’ We cannot doubt the intention of Joel Cobb’s death. For Joel Cobb thought himself better than our Heavenly Father, creating for himself an artificial organ. Joel Cobb must have been possessed by the devil himself to have fabricated such an abominable thing to defile the temples of God that our souls inhabit. Joel Cobb believed himself to be better than our Creator. He believed himself to have created an organ capable of God-like powers. He championed a false idol, a ‘god organ’!”

  Hannah’s pulse quickened and throbbed madly in time with the cadence of Father Cooney’s sermon. The congregation nodded with vigorous fervor, some with clasped hands, others praying, and still others scowling at the insolence of a man who might think himself great enough to create such a “god organ.”

  “Do not be tempted by the promises of the false prophets with claims of science and progress. They seek to destroy our temples and prolong our path to the promised land of salvation and mercy. They seek to prevent us from looking upon the eyes of our Lord, our God above.”

  Hannah made the sign of the cross. She drew her hands up and prayed with Father Cooney. “Our Father, who art in Heaven,” she said, joining the massive congregation as it sounded a roaring voice full of rage and zeal. A brief flutter of belonging and comfort arose in her when she prayed in unison with the rest of the congregation. The chorus of voices reminded her she was not alone, at least not in that instant. There had been a time with Brian when she had felt that she belonged with someone and was a part of something, but that time had passed. Brian’s love for her had passed. No one loved her now. No one except her God.

  “God loves you as you are, for you are His creation, created in His image. Do not forget that you were formed perfect, as He is. Do not allow Satan to tempt you into thinking this world shall be your Heaven, for your salvation truly lies in the immortal afterlife the Lord offers you after the trials and tribulations of this world.”

  After the service had concluded, she joined the flood of people swarming out of the church and into the Monday morning sunlight like angry bees from a disturbed hive. A paper sign advertising the coffee and bagel sermon discussion in the basement caught her attention. As she stepped down the stairs outside the cathedral, she considered her lonely apartment with its futon and broken coffee table. She would spend the day poring over the latest news streams and perusing commlink forums with others crippled by extreme shyness.

  Brian hadn’t minded her reticence, though. He had convinced her to drop out of Northern Illinois University with him and flee to Chicago, promising her that they could start a life together. He hadn’t made good on his promise, though. He’d left her. Early that terrible morning, he had left her in their apartment. No goodbye, no more promises, no more tired explanations of where he had spent his late nights. Just emptiness.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned back up the steps against the flow of the exiting congregation. A nervous sweat saturated her underarms. She followed a staircase to the basement where a selection of bagels and cream cheese awaited her on a plastic folding table.

  Hannah sniffed at the rosy fragrances spewed out by the church basement’s scentsors. The scent reminded her of sitting on her grandmother’s lap as a child. Still, the scentsors couldn’t shroud the smell of mildew pervading the damp air.

  Several tables covered in white tablecloths were encircled by a smattering of plastic folding chairs. When one of the wrinkled ladies serving coffee accidentally spilled a cup across the floor, a stubby, round, floor-cleaning motor bot sputtered across the tile and attempted to clean the mess. The bot returned to its dusty corner, leaving behind a trail of coffee drops.

  “Would you like a coffee?”

  Hannah nodded, but couldn’t make eye contact with the woman. “Please.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  Hannah paused. “Both?”

  The lady laughed as she poured coffee into a paper cup. “Well, you better be sure about that cream and sugar.”

  “Yes.” Hannah nodded meekly. She wasn’t used to ordering drinks from a living person; she preferred the voice and visual recognition coffee stand at Ed Bay’s Coffee Imports. Minimal human interaction until she reached G&N. At the store, she adopted an exhausting and strikingly different persona, as though she were an actor in a play. She could sell clothes to strangers all day but outside the store she had difficulty even saying “hello” to a passerby.

  With her eyes glued to the cup, she thanked the old woman. She glanced at a table with a group of middle-aged couples laughing and smiling. Instead, she settled herself at an empty table, her heart racing. The mere thought of settling in with the strangers struck her with fear and excitement.

  For several minutes she sipped her coffee and stole glances at other tables. Two elderly men squabbled and pointed their crooked fingers at each other as their wives, adorned in bright dresses and lacy hats, sighed and lamented together about the shameful state of the economy and the laziness of the younger generation. A group of twenty- and early thirty-somethings chatted at another table. Most were dressed in sweaters, ties, and collared shirts. Those minutes spent observing allowed Hannah’s pulse to return to normal.

  “May I sit here?” A slight southern twang accentuated the woman’s voice.

  Hannah looked up to see a striking woman with wavy brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. “Okay.”

  The woman smiled and flashed perfect teeth. Hannah thought of her own gapped front teeth and pressed her lips closed tighter.

  “I just can’t believe this whole ‘god organ’ thing, can you?”

  Hannah tried to respond, but the woman continued.

  “I mean, it isn’t right for someone to just decide who gets to live and die. Maybe it’s because they have the money and that’s supposed to make it okay. That isn’t okay with me. I don’t think any man should have the power to play God with our lives and pretend to be saving us with miracles, selling all these devilish god organs.” The woman sighed. “From what Father Cooney said, it looks like God has judged righteously.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “There is no supposing about it, I think. God did what He needed to do. Like striking down Sodom and Gomorrah or Samson or Lot’s wife, He did what He had to do.” The woman leaned in. Her breath carried the bitter smell of the cheap instant-brew coffee in Hannah’s own cup. “I think these god organs are slowly poisoning people and their families. Everybody is turning to science and away from God. Chicago, the United States—we are the next Sodom and Gomorrah.”

  “Okay.” Hannah fought an urge to look away.

  The woman put her hand on Hannah’s. She recoiled slightly, but felt a small amount of joy at the touch of another human being.

  “Thank you for letting me rant,” the woman said. “Anyway, tell me about yourself. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here for one of these little shindigs.”

  “Um, what should I say?”

  “Do you go to school? You look like a pretty little college girl.”

  Hannah blushed. “No, I don’t. I work in the city.”

  “Where? What do you do?”

  “I work at G&N. Sell clothes and stuff.”

  “Oh, really? I used to shop there all the time,” the woman said, her voice shrill. “When I was your age, I just loved their clothes. I know I’m not the same skinny little model I was then, or I’d probably keep shopping there.”

  “I think you could still wear our clothes.” A spark o
f confidence flickered within Hannah. The innate desire to establish a personal connection momentarily outweighed her self-consciousness. “I think you’re still a very beautiful woman. You shouldn’t slight yourself like that.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet of you to say. Such a pretty girl and so nice, too. You don’t get that combination much anymore. In fact, most of the pretty ones are just those unnatural types who go around getting laser treatments and ‘god organs’ to defile their wretched little bodies.”

  Hannah laughed. “You’re so right.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I know I am. Listen, I should really be heading out. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll come drop by G&N again—if you really think I could pull off a cute blouse from there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Let’s link up.” The woman pulled out her comm card.

  Hannah smiled. She tapped her comm card and slid it over the woman’s. A ping confirmed that they had successfully linked up.

  “You have a blessed weekend.”

  “You, too.” She watched the woman walk out of the basement. Though the woman had a hint of crow’s feet and wrinkles at the corner of her mouth, Hannah envied her long, elegant legs, striding up the stairs confidently. The woman must have been in her late thirties or early forties, quite a bit older than Hannah. But she felt hopeful. Maybe there was someone out there willing to be her friend. Someone she might learn to trust.

  Chapter 6

  Preston Carter

  October 16, 2063

  Preston took a deep breath as he glanced around at the audience in the small auditorium. “The LyfeGen Sustain is a safe and effective technology pioneered by Joel Cobb. Despite his untimely death, Mr. Cobb will be remembered for his groundbreaking contributions to the field of tissue engineering and, more broadly, healthcare. His technology has revolutionized the field, creating a paradigm shift in the therapeutic ideals long sought after in tissue engineering. Whereas past technologies were largely reactive, the Sustain has been and will continue to be a medical strategy that can both prevent and treat a variety of afflictions. LyfeGen is committed to Joel Cobb’s vision of improving human health with innovative technology and sound science.”