Federal authorities claim other evidence has surfaced that further supports this allegation, but have not commented on the exact nature of these claims.
Authorities have not released the names of any other potential suspects and declined to comment on the possibility of more extensive involvement of NanoTech executives in the bombings and the sabotaged genetic data that led to the LyfeGen Sustain malfunctions.
As the dust has begun to settle at LyfeGen, the company has geared itself toward recovery. Officials announced a recall of all Sustain updates, although both LyfeGen and law enforcement officials suspect that only individuals with direct ties to LyfeGen were targeted by Brayson’s alleged tampering.
Still, the company is issuing full financial reimbursements to both the patients and doctors involved. They promise a thorough investigation into the company’s personnel and security measures to prevent any future disasters.
Current CEO Anil Nayak, refusing to make a public appearance due to ongoing surgeries and therapeutic reparations required by the bombing, promises that the company will make a full recovery.
Investors have not displayed the same confidence as Nayak, as shares of LyfeGen continue to plummet. The Board of Directors has so far refused any comment regarding stock prices, Whitney Brayson, or the future of the Sustain organ.
It would appear that the once-proclaimed God Organ may be closing in on its own imminent mortality.
Editor’s Note: Audrey Cook’s book, God Organ: The Rapid Rise and Fall of a Biotech Empire is set to be published on July 9, 2064, by Sharper’s and Holland’s, with available streaming through all comm card providers. The intriguing events surrounding LyfeGen and the God Organ will be covered in diligent detail, promising an informative and tantalizing read.
Epilogue
Matthew Pierce
December 23, 2063
Matthew rubbed the tender skin near his right shoulder. The scar had healed with only a few thin lines of white flesh marking where Jacqueline had shot him. If he’d had his own Sustain, those scars might not have been visible at all. He likely would have never lost consciousness due to loss of blood.
Apparently, Preston survived a similar wound. Matthew had spoken to Preston briefly after the incident on a holocall. Matthew had apologized for his recklessness but Preston had assured him he had been just as bullheaded.
Then Preston had asked him if he’d continue on at LyfeGen. But he had told the CEO he didn’t know how much longer he could stay. With a somber nod, Preston had confirmed that he shared those sentiments. He’d take his time off—maybe a permanent retirement—to spend with his family. A slight smile had curled Preston’s lips and Matthew had wished that he could say the same. His future appeared far more bleak and lonely.
In his cramped studio apartment, he typed at his computer, mindlessly scrolling through job listings. He needed out of LyfeGen.
Working at the company felt like riding a dying race horse. Each day was another weak hobble toward a finish line they would never reach. If he didn’t find a way out, LyfeGen would crumble around him and leave him stranded and desolate.
There were few openings in companies within the Chicago area. He would have to move, leave behind everything he’d once thought he had. Maybe that would be easy enough. Audrey had been relieved to see him alive, but their relationship was far too battered to be rebuilt. She had stayed in the old apartment on Riverside with their dog and Matthew had found himself a temporary flat in Wrigleyville.
Bored of his fruitless job search, he scrolled through images on his comm card. He stopped on a holo of Audrey in an elegant black dress, her fiery hair rolling over her shoulders as she stood before one of the sets of marble stairs in the Lyric Opera House. The image was almost two years old. He studied her smile, the way her lips curled into a playful expression, and the intensity in her vibrant green eyes.
He doubted that, even if LyfeGen did survive, he would thrive in Chicago. He needed to start over.
As he stood, the wooden floorboards creaked under his footsteps. He stared out the window toward the street below. The orange-and-blue neon sign for Kingsley’s shimmered in the evening gloom. Though he had lived in the apartment for almost a month, he hadn’t ventured into the seedy bar across the street. Now, the sign called to him like a siren, urging him to shore, to join the revelry within.
***
Inside the bar, the pungent smell of stale beer accompanied a grimy stickiness that made Matthew cringe with each step he took. The place reminded him of a popular undergraduate bar in Iowa City where drinks were only a couple dollars and one-night stands were about as cheap. With the fuel of nostalgia, he ventured sat at the bar.
The bartender nodded a greeting. “What’ll it be?”
“Goose Island.” Matthew glanced at the other patrons. A couple of college-age kids were sitting in a booth. Several others, dressed to suit the grime of the bar, sat on the stools on either side of him. The man to his left looked familiar, though he couldn’t recall why.
“IPA man?” his neighbor said. He had wiry black hair cut short, and deep almond-brown eyes. He didn’t smile, nor did he scowl. He looked worn, despite his clean-cut attire.
Matthew nodded. “I don’t mind a little hoppiness.”
“You new to the neighborhood?”
“Yeah, I am. You been stalking me or something?”
The man laughed. “I used to come here practically every day after work. Never seen you before. I always know a new one, don’t I, Kirk?”
The bartender nodded. “Yep. You keep me employed. Don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave.” He placed the chilled glass of beer in front of Matthew.
Matthew turned back to the familiar man. “Where’re you going?”
“Baltimore.” The man smiled and took a swig of his beer.
“Why Baltimore?”
“It’s cheap right now. And that’s where the new tech upsurge is going to take place. The city is crawling with venture capitalists in all their local university labs.”
Matthew took a sip of his Goose Island. “Really? So, you an entrepreneur or something?”
“More or less.” The man’s smirk hinted at a more complicated story, but Matthew was unwilling to press him.
“I actually work in biotech but I’m trying to get out of Chicago. I need a change of scenery.”
“Been there, done that.” The man swallowed another gulp, emptying his glass, and signaled the bartender for another round. “But I ended up coming right back here. Something about the city lured me back. It’s like a disease without a cure. It’s something even those god organs can’t cure.”
“God organs?” Matthew cocked his head, then nodded. “You mean the Sustain?”
“That’s right. Don’t get me started on those damn things or all the trouble they’ve caused.”
Matthew opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. He’d let the allure of the Sustain destroy his life and he’d never even had one implanted. The desire to obtain one, to improve it and be a part of the holy oligarchy that controlled the Sustain’s production and distribution had been so great that it had become his obsession, his focus. Even his affair with Jacqueline had been sparked by their work on the artificial organ. The idea of achieving virtual immortality and reaping the financial rewards of such a feat had inspired his initial interest in biomedical engineering. Publicly, he had always said his career had been motivated by an intense desire to save lives and help others.
But now he knew that wasn’t true. He’d saved no one and he felt responsible for Jacqueline’s death, for driving her to run from Chicago and LyfeGen. To run from him.
He’d driven away Audrey, too, in the pursuit of dreams of grandeur.
The biotech industry wasn’t based on a genuine goodwill effort to save humanity. Instead, LyfeGen and other great companies like it were a pit of vipers, profiting on illness, profiting on the fear of illness. Like a god instilling fear into his people in an effort to control them and en
courage his worship.
Matthew frowned. “You think all these biotech companies are rooted in greed?”
“All of them?” The man stared into his beer for a second, contemplating the question. “No, no. I used to think most people were inherently evil, but that’s awfully nihilistic. Why would life be worth living if that were the case?”
Matthew nodded.
“I think that people do become corrupted by power. I think men like to pretend to be gods. But I also think there are people out there who are trying to do something right. To be honest, I think that Preston Carter was—is—one of those guys, but he got involved with the wrong company. That’s why they shooed him out so quickly. I have to believe there are more people like him, working to make things right.”
“I hope you’re right,” Matthew said. “So that’s why you’re going to Baltimore, huh? To find people like that?”
The man smiled. “That’s exactly right.”
“Are you looking for a job there?”
“Not exactly,” the man said. “I’m looking to invest in people like that.”
Matthew couldn’t hide the astonishment on his face. “Invest? No offense, but I didn’t think I’d find an angel investor in a bar like this.”
The man laughed. “I wouldn’t blame you. I hit it big with the sale of some IP. By happenstance, I became an inventor. Didn’t really know what to do with myself or the money, until recently.”
“I see.” Matthew’s head bobbed. “Maybe Baltimore wouldn’t be such a bad place to be right now. Maybe I could pick up a better job there.”
The man finished his second glass of beer before Matthew had even finished his first. He held out a hand. “I’m Cody Warren, by the way.”
Matthew returned the man’s handshake. “Matthew Pierce.”
Cody got up to leave, confirming his final tab on his comm card. “Maybe I’ll see you in Baltimore.”
Matthew gulped down the rest of his beer. “Maybe you will.”
Thank you for reading
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to all the usual suspects, including Katarina, John, Thomas, Kira, Ava, and Dominique. Your feedback and comments have aided in the development of The God Organ and each of the characters’ lives within this story. Thank you to my editors and proofreaders, Emily Nemchick, DJ Hendrickson, Carol Davis, and Eliza Dee. Any remaining errors are my own.
About the Author
Anthony J Melchiorri is a writer and biomedical engineer living in Maryland. When he isn't writing or reading, he spends most of his time developing cardiovascular devices for tissue engineering to treat children with congenital heart defects.
Read more at Anthony J Melchiorri’s site.
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