Forever and Ever

by Dan A. Baker

  Edward looked away for a long moment. The implications for UCSF were staggering, and the intrigue was incalculable.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Jasmine leaned forward and looked at him intently.

  “We’ve laid down long enough, Jasmine. All of us have and it’s time to shake things up, and this will do that for sure. I haven’t been in a really good fight since 1940 anyway, and UCSF could use some involvement. I will tell you two things about warfare, though,” he said trailing off.

  “War is exciting, it is unpredictable, and you want to make sure you win,” Edward said, smiling. “I doubt if we can save your young patient’s life, though, and I want you to put this off one more day. I want you to think about it,” Edward said. “There might be another way,” he said, humming again.

  The rain picked up towards evening and ran down the street in little rivers. Jasmine finished the videotape and transferred it to the computer. She made a powerful plea for medical science to come together and fight the right wing bans on research, to break the stranglehold of blanket patents on human genes, and to reconsider the role of bioethics boards. It was an emotional plea for a renaissance in American science, and an urgent warning of the implications of the onrushing trans-human future.

  Will helped her set up the digital video camera and watched it with her. “I tried this approach several times, but no one listened and no one helped. They all watched me go down the tubes. I hope you have better luck,” he said in a tired, thin voice.

  “I hope Easton was right. I hope they listen to me,” Jasmine said.

  “Easton is dead,” Will said. “You have one more day to think about what I told you. Think about dealing with this in another way.”

  When Jasmine looked at his face, she saw the strain and the punishment of the last few days, but there was something new. Will looked very worried for the first time she had known him. She sat on his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. The tears were gone. The exhaustion was gone. The indecision was gone. The great vortex of forces that swirled around them was even quiet for a few minutes.

  “I love you,” she said softly. “I want you to stay and fight with me.” “I can’t. These people have unlimited money. If they grease the good old boys in Washington, we’ll be indicted for manslaughter in Havasu. If they turn the right wing media machine on, suddenly we become monsters, destroying the human race. The polyester politicians will rant about altering God’s work on cue, and they will shut down the entire biotech garage industry. That’s what’s going to happen, but it’s not the way they want to go,” Will said.

  “Which way do they want to go?” Jasmine asked, exhausted.

  “They want my work. What they really want is a generational lead in this thing, and they want to engineer a generation of trans-humans that will give them exactly what they want, which is control, and that’s what Nielsen and I created. We actually nailed it. You’re looking at the only data bank of that billion-dollar effort.” He stroked her hair gently, “but they don’t want to do it this way, because it’s not their style.”

  “What do you mean?” Jasmine asked softly.

  “They don’t like daylight. They don’t like fighting in the open. It’s too unpredictable for them, and they might do something unpredictable. That’s what scares me the most about what you’re doing,” Will said.

  Jasmine felt a tight thrust of fear in her stomach.

  “They know I won’t play ball, so they’re going to make me play ball, one way or another. Attacking you and torturing you is just one way to do that. It’s clumsy, but effective. That’s why I have to put myself out of reach.”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore,” Jasmine said.

  Will left very early, holding Jasmine for a long silent moment in the darkness.

  Malia arrived a little later with a bag of bagels and a sack of dog food. When she saw Jasmine, she was so shocked that she dropped both bags.

  “Just tell me Mom, she said, tell me everything.”

  The story was getting easier to tell each time, Jasmine thought. Malia listened carefully, holding Jasmine’s hand, deeply concerned. Jasmine didn’t mention Roy. Malia jerked back suddenly when Jasmine told her about the murders on Lake Havasu.

  “They killed Darla? Mom! No! No! Malia began crying and walked over to the end of the deck. “Rich people! See Mom, they’re just ruthless! They don’t want you just putting that treatment out there for anyone, they want to own it, control it and charge people a fortune for it! Oh, Mom! God, this just sucks! What are you going to do?”

  “I, I’m going to fight,” Jasmine said.

  “But they’ll like, throw you in jail, and they’ll take away your Nobel, which will kill Grandpa. Then they’ll make you look really bad, Mom! And, they, they might even hurt you,” Malia said, suddenly terrified.

  “I’m speaking at UCSF tomorrow at ten,” Jasmine said softly.

  “What’s Will going to do?”

  “He’s going to go to Europe for awhile,” Jasmine said.

  “You’re going to do this alone? They’ll like crucify you!” Malia started to cry again. “Go with Will! Don’t try to fight them Mom!

  “I know, but sometimes in life there are just times when you have to decide what it is you’re going to do, then do it. I’ve always been an honest person, and I want to return to society,” Jasmine said, in a halting way.

  “Return to society? Mom, you sound like a convict already!”

  “Malia, I’ve had a very hard few days, and I’ve had to make some very painful decisions. Please help me get through this.”

  “Will they hurt you Mom?” Malia asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Jasmine said.

  “Mom, I have to go now. Please, please be careful.” Malia dropped her head to her chest and walked quickly out of the house.

  Will returned just before dark. “They haven’t filed any charges in Lake Havasu yet. My guess is they’re having trouble finding the bodies.” There was a focused intensity about him now. “There will be some people here soon. They’re going to stay with you for a few days in case these guys do something really stupid,” he said, holding her to him. “I’m leaving tonight.”

  The simple statement punched Jasmine much harder than she expected. The emotions came in a surge. She wanted to go with him, to some beautiful exciting place, to breathe in the good life, and enjoy the wind on her face. The fear of being without him in this horrendous fight made her feel weak and empty. She trembled slightly and felt very tired.

  “Okay, she said, and walked out on the deck. He stood behind her as the wind whipped the trees around, drying the rain on the deck. One of the teak lounges was turned around to face the garden. They saw it at the same time. Jasmine froze. He slipped the gun out of his jacket.

  “I liked that Edgar Bronfman part,” the man said, as he swung his legs around on the lounge and looked at them. Jasmine heard the little click from Will’s gun.

  “Let me see your hands,” Will said. The man held his hands up as he talked. He was a slightly built elderly man, with a pink scrubbed face and a salmon colored tie.

  “We thought maybe you’d like to know the rest of the story. Know what happened,” he said.

  “Let’s start with introductions,” Will said.

  Ritzy ran through the house to the downstairs door, ran up on the deck and barked furiously at the strange man.

  “Ritzy! In the house!” Jasmine said, pulling on her collar.

  “Dogs just never liked me.” The strange man said.

  “Talk,” Will said pointedly.

  “You know, we never quite got around to picking a name. We’re a pretty small group, and well, informal would be the right word for us.”

  “You’re the other player,” Will said.

  “Good! I can’t tell you how enjoyable it is to work with people who get it. It makes everything much easier,” he said.

  “You had Victor’s condo bugged.”

  “Of course,” the man
said.

  “What happened to Victor?” Will asked.

  “The other player,” the man said. “They surprised everyone.”

  “So there’re two other players. Who are you, then?” Will asked.

  “I’m an old friend of Walter’s,” he said. “Can I put my hands down now?”

  Will crossed to him and patted him down for weapons and wires. “You sit there and we’ll sit here,” he said, pulling two teak chairs over.

  “Who are you?” he asked again.

  “Just an old guy, I’m actually a volunteer.”

  “Volunteer?” Will asked.

  “Yeah, I’m retired CIA. Most of us aren’t though,” he said casually.

  “What are most of you?”

  “Some of us are political people, some business, and some are science guys. I’m one of the only spooks. I first worked with Walter in Iran. That was a long time ago.”

  “What do you do?” Will asked.

  “We’re freelancers, like you,” the man said, smiling a funny little smile. “You’re freelancers?” Will asked.

  “Yeah, we try to keep the unwashed from doing too much damage to this country. Sometimes we succeed, and sometimes we don’t. This time, things really went to hell,” he said.

  “Go on,” Will said.

  “You assumed, almost rightly, but not quite, that Walter Nielsen was one of a kind: an enlightened, rich, powerful intellectual, which is very rare in America. You were almost right. He was one of a kind, but he wasn’t alone. He was part of our group and a very valuable part. He had the vision, and he could see the farthest, plus he knew the score.” The old man leaned back into the lounge.

  “Tell me something that will make me believe you.”

  “Bill, the chimp is gay,” he said. The pause lasted several moments.

  Will sat back and looked at Jasmine. “You must have talked to Walter recently.”

  “I walked him out to the chopper that day,” the man said.

  “Please tell us what happened,” Jasmine said, leaning forward to get a better look at this man.

  “Rammy,” the man said softly.

  “Rammy?” Jasmine blurted.

  “We like Rammy. I hate to use the word, asset, but he’s kept us in the loop on several fairly important developments. He told us they wired the 9900 with a sat port, but he didn’t find it until you were almost finished. We didn’t know they downloaded the data packets, but what we did know was they had the treatment. That we didn’t like. We wanted to keep that one in the immediate family for awhile,” he said.

  “What happened in Lake Havasu?” Will asked.

  “They reached for all the marbles. They had what they hoped were all the copies of the treatment. The 9900 told them how many there were. They picked up Marjorie’s set and your set from the trailer park. They were furious that your behavioral data wasn’t on your mainframe. That’s when they decided to act.”

  “So they chose that day to show their anger?” Will asked.

  “Oh no, they broke in a few weeks before, and then a few days before. They were hoping you would bring the data back from Phoenix. That’s why Walter wanted it to stay in Phoenix. He knew they were after it.”

  “What happened on that day?” Will asked as the wind dropped off.

  “It’s quite simple, really. They kill those treated in a way that makes it look like the treatment failed. They wanted it to blow up in your face. They have the locals pick you up, and they provide the evidence. You’re charged with some serious local crimes in a state where they hand out the death penalty for parking tickets. So they put you in a situation where you feel like working with them. And they have what they need to crush something that is really scaring them,” the old man spoke softly, but with authority.

  “Garage biotech?” Will asked.

  “They don’t like garage biotech because there are no controls there. There’s no way they can slow it down or stop it. They want to own this particular sector of science, and they don’t want any freelance competition. Garage science just drives them crazy, because for them, a big splashy arrest of two prominent renegade American scientists, who just killed all their patients with a garage biotech treatment developed on a stolen super computer, would be perfect.”

  “Why didn’t they arrest us with the bodies?” Will asked.

  “They wanted to give you the opportunity to lie, predicting that you would. They assumed the bodies would float to the surface in a few days and be found, and then you’d be charged with murder. But the lake screwed them up.”

  “Because it’s fresh water,” Will said.

  “Yeah, as smart as these guys are, they missed a few details.”

  “They took my mainframe?” Will asked.

  “We did,” the man said, “which also screwed them up, which is why you haven’t been charged with a crime in Lake Havasu. We took everything from the trailer park and your house before they got there. You know what’s funny?”

  “What?” Will said.

  “They still have boats looking for those bodies. They even had divers down searching for the bodies - the whole bit. It’s a scream.”

  “Did you know they were going to do what they did?” Jasmine asked.

  “The mine in the treatment was a complete shock to us. We didn’t know they would go that far. They saw a golden opportunity there to kill all four of the treated, frame you both, and wipe out this garage biotech business, and it almost worked.”

  “What happened to Victor’s treatments?” Jasmine asked.

  “We tried to talk to Victor, but he couldn’t resist the money. When he finally transmitted the treatment, we chose to data-splice a little.”

  “How did you data-splice the treatment?” Will asked, as he leaned into the conversation.

  “We hired a guy who ran the Navy ONI Cyber warfare shop in San Francisco. The military kicked him out because he was gay. Bad idea. We interrupted Victor’s feed, inserted an apoptosis gene in the data with a nifty little timer and sent it on. The whole thing took about three- thousands of a second,” the little man got up and stretched.

  “So why are you here?” Will asked.

  “To save you,” he said softly.

  “Who killed Victor?” Jasmine asked.

  “The other player killed him because he cut one deal too many,” the man said confidently.

  “Who’s the other player?” Will asked.

  “Victor didn’t quite tell you everything. He told you more than I thought he would, but he didn’t tell you everything.”

  Jasmine looked at Will, as she reached out for his hand.

  “Victor cut a deal with the Samba Kings to produce the treatment,” the man looked up slowly. “Now that was a real bad idea.”

  “Victor was going to produce the treatment in Brazil? Is that why they killed him?” Will asked.

  “You forgot to ask who they are.”

  “Who are they?” Will questioned.

  “This aging reversal treatment, what does it do?” he asked earnestly.

  “It reverses the damage from the aging process, and can restore the body to a youthful healthy state,” Jasmine said.

  “Ah, you even used the magic word,” the man said.

  “Healthy?” Will asked.

  “God I like you! If you just applied yourself a little more, we wouldn’t be here,” the strange man said, jagging Will.

  “Is it about the big pharmaceutical companies?” Jasmine asked.

  “The big drug companies have been watching nervously and carefully. They’re looking at seventy-million baby boomer Americans reaching old age. What are they gonna need? Medicine! They’re going to need lots of very expensive medicine. Why? Because they’re old,” he paused, and then began again.

  “So, along comes Will Behlen. Along comes Marjorie Cunningham. Along comes Dr. Earl Metcalf. Along comes Dr. Jasmine Metcalf. Along comes the Biotech Garage Industry. Then, along comes Victor Magnusson, the guy who would hand it to the Brazilians, or w
ho would give it to anyone with a checkbook. It wouldn’t take long for the price to come down.”

  The old man paused and then coughed a little. “There goes the largest transfer of private wealth in human history.”

  “Are you saying that the pharmaceutical companies killed Victor?” Will asked, in shock.

  “He cut the deal that day. Just before you arrived.”

  “Who was the demonstrator?” Jasmine asked.

  “They tore a page out of J. Edgar Hoover’s book, The Sirhan Sirhan page. It actually works,” he said. “We even used it once.”

  “You mean he was hypnotized? Jasmine asked.

  “And then some. There’s been some real improvement in that process since Sirhan shot up the ceiling of the Ambassador Hotel.”

  “Would you like to go inside?” Jasmine asked.

  “Oh no, there’s too much radio frequency in there,” he said, knowingly.

  “Is the house bugged? he asked inquisitively.

  “Sure, but they don’t like what they’ve been hearing.”

  “How do you know?” Will asked.

  “It’s just a guess. I presume Jasmine is going to go public. They don’t want that, so they played the Roy card.”

  “And, then what?” Jasmine inquired.

  “They’re betting it’ll work, and so am I,” he said. “I hope it works.”

  “Do I have to ask the question?” Will said.

  “No, no you don’t. Just wait. Wait is what you should do. Jasmine should accept the Nobel. You two should save the boy’s life. Use the prestige attributed for those accomplishments outside of the country for a while. Give them a little information here and a little there, so you can stall them. “

  “And if I don’t?” Jasmine asked.

  “They won’t like that. That’ll force them to crush you and Will. They’ll have to spend some more money in Washington and in Arizona. And they might not get what they really want.”

  “You mean my behavioral work?”

  “Yes, and they also want to crush this Garage Biotech thing, so they might just take the trade, if you hand it to them. But that would be a bad idea.”

  “I…I…,” Jasmine started to say something but stopped.

  “Don’t do it Jasmine, not now. Wait. Don’t get Roy killed,” the old man said while getting up. “Go with Will. Let this thing go for now. Attend the press conference and accept your Nobel. Give us a year or two. String everything out with Roy. Give them a little information at a time. We’ll take care of them the way we always have.”