***
Garland rummaged through his secretary’s desk for take-out menus. The only one he found was a Chinese one, and he hated Chinese food. Starving, he regretted losing his temper with her. He considered himself of master of control and was upset he was unable to contain himself.
Instead of yelling at her to get control of herself, he should have mustered some compassion when she started crying about the timing of her father’s stroke. He put a mask on all the time. He was puzzled why he didn’t keep things in check with her.
Suddenly it hit him, and Garland retreated to his office. He wanted sympathy, empathy, an acknowledgement of what he was going through. He knew it showed weakness, but didn’t anyone realize how unfair the timing was for his parents?
***
“Take a look at this,” Louise Pinclair said and stepped aside. Jack bent over the stainless steel desk and peered into a microscope as the biochemist said, “Keep as steady a look as you can. You can miss a couple when you blink.”
“It’s amazing, fascinating really,” Jack said.
“Hold on, I want to change specimens.”
Pinclair slid another sampling under and Jack pressed his eyes into the viewer.
“It looks the same to me.”
“Keep staring. You’re not going to see much, if any, cell division activity.”
Jack examined the sample for a couple of minutes before moving away from the scope.
“Explain what I was looking at.”
Pinclair said, “The first specimen was from a male, sixty-eight years old. As you noticed, there was robust division activity in the sample, which is very unusual for a man that age. The second sample was taken from a ten-year-old Labrador and is a good example of the presence of senescent cells.”
“The human one was still dividing like crazy but the sample from the dog was stagnant, even though they are roughly the equivalent same age.”
“Indeed. The Labrador sample is really quite typical of a dog that age. It’s the sixty-eight-year-old specimen that resembles a twenty-year-old’s.”
“Can you make any conclusions about why this is happening?”
“It’s early, but we’ve been able to identify several cases where two genes, RAS2 and SCH9, have been switched off.”
“How is that significant?”
“Those two genes have been proven to promote aging in yeast and cancer cells.”
“So by being turned off, the aging process stops?”
“We believe it contributes to it.”
“But not the sole reason?”
“Afraid not. Aging is a very complicated issue. It’s biologically, environmentally, and individually specific. It’s what we study here.”
“You’re the third expert that’s said the lack of senescent cells is significant. Do you have any other theories on what may be creating this phenomenon?”
“Cryptobiosis.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a metabolic state of life entered by an organism to protect itself from dangerous conditions, like freezing or a lack of water. In such a state all metabolic processes stop.”
“Like hibernation?”
“A little. In hibernation the processes slow down, with cryptobiosis they stop completely until the threat ends.”
“Sounds like those people who froze themselves to wait for a cure.”
Pinclair nodded. “Cryonics.”
“But they’re still completely functioning when they freeze themselves.”
“In this case it could be a form of cryptobiosis that limits itself to the aging.”
“It sounds kinda kooky to me.”
“That’s because you have images of people being frozen. In nature there are quite a few organisms, for example, in Africa there’s a shrimp species that lives in a bay that completely dries out for months at a time. Needing water to survive, the shrimp undergoes crytobiosis, and when the water returns the shrimp comes back to life.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Nature at work.”
“You say nature. Do you think it could be God at work, or a higher power?”
“Even though I’m a scientist, I don’t deny the existence of a higher power. Life is both delicate and complicated, sometimes beyond human reason. There are evolutionary explanations for most things, but not all.”
***
Jack rolled around the long-winded, joint statement from the Health and Human Services Department and the Centers for Disease Control. Despite the tag line at the end about their pledge to continue studying the issue, it amounted to an admission that the government was clueless as to how the meteorite worked its magic.
He thought the only clarifying information in the twenty-page study that accompanied the statement was the section on those with advanced diseases or paralysis. And the bad news was it was clear that exposure to the meteorite wasn’t a cure for sickness. It somehow stopped illness dead in its tracks, but there was no evidence it reversed it, leaving folks in a physical limbo.
Jack thought about those who were living a compromised existence. People with cancer, heart disease, Alzheimer’s, and similar sicknesses wouldn’t get worse. If the cases weren’t too advanced they’d live fairly normal lives. But for those with later-stage illnesses, there was no relief. It was a difficult life under any circumstances, but for an eternity?
He found himself thinking such an existence would be like being in prison for life without a chance at parole for a crime you didn’t commit. Then he went back to work.
Chapter Thirteen
One Year Later
Millions long for immortality who don’t know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
~ Susan Ertz
President Baxter was shaking hands and smiling greetings as he made his way to the podium in the House Chamber. Deafening applause was in full swing as the minutes ticked away. Baxter reveled in the genuine adoration for a full eight minutes before he motioned to the crowd to settle down. As the applause receded into a murmur, the Speaker of the House announced, “Members of Congress, I have the high privilege and distinct honor of presenting to you the President of the United States.”
The crowd of senators, representatives, and guests erupted again. Baxter basked for a minute before turning to his vice president. He bowed slightly, then pointing toward Johnson, and elicited a crescendo of acknowledgment from the gathering.
With the Vice President and Speaker of the House seated behind him, Baxter adjusted the microphone, signaling the audience to quiet down. After giving the traditional greeting, the president launched into his State of the Union address.
“I stand before you and the American people tonight and, with full confidence, declare that the state of the Union has never been better.”
Raucous applause broke out as all in attendance rose to their feet again. When they settled down, the president replaced his smile with a serious look and continued, “I know the last year severely tested this great nation. Fear, doubt, and worry about what the meteorite meant and how to ensure that its benefits were accrued to every American was felt by all. At times it seemed desperate, and there were troubling episodes of violence that challenged our values and our way of life. But we overcame those darkened skies by working together, pushing forward, and adjusting where necessary. We triumphed!”
The chamber erupted again, as it would another fifty-five times, creating a new standard of political approval. Baxter signaled for quiet and continued, “At this time, despite the best efforts of the science community, we still do not understand how the meteorite affects death, but once we were certain it did not pose a threat, we initiated our access program. Tonight we are proud to say that we accomplished our goal to expose every citizen to the meteorite’s life-saving power. It was a complicated undertaking, but we not only persevered, we did it in less time than projected. America is now healthier and will be safer than at any time in her history. Longevity limits have been smashed, and, through ne
gotiation, we are eliminating all threats to our homeland.”
The attendees jumped to their feet, saluting the administration’s successful stance that access to the meteorite for adversaries would only be granted upon proof they had demilitarized, signed nonaggression agreements, and taken concrete steps toward a democratic form of government. Baxter assured the audience that the meteorite, presently touring South America, was being guarded by an overwhelming force and was safe.
The president outlined a program he was about to submit to Congress that would help train the millions of healthcare workers who’d lost their jobs for new positions in the construction and technology industries. He also referenced a program to assist people with latter stage diseases whose illnesses had stopped progressing but which left them in compromised conditions.
Desiring to keep the address positive, Baxter briefly alluded to the need to overhaul Social Security. He mentioned the crush of participants who would never stop collecting benefits and who would overwhelm its finances before touting the savings to be had from the elimination of end-of-life care.
Baxter also laid out a program that would provide assistance for all newborns to visit the meteorite. He finished by announcing the building of the meteorite’s permanent home in Washington, where it would be on exhibit after its global cure tour.
Chapter Fourteen
Five Years after the State of Union Address
Jack held hands with Laura as they briskly walked along the River Seine.
“Where are we going, Jack? We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
“Don’t worry, I got a little surprise to commemorate our wedding anniversary.”
As Jack led her onto the Bridge of Locks, Laura said, “After five years, you want to get romantic?”
“Better late than never.”
The couple secured their lock on the bridge, tossing the key into the Seine before heading to dinner. As they crossed over the river Jack said, “Notre Dame’s dead. There’s no one in the plaza.”
“I can’t believe it. Remember when we took that trip right after we met?”
“It was a mob scene.”
“Maybe it’s closed or something.”
“I doubt it, but fewer and fewer people seem to believe in God these days.”
“Europe was always less religious.”
“Yeah, but remember what they said at the Buddhist temple?”
“I know, but I don’t want to live in a world without a God.”
“You may have to.”
Jack and Laura settled around a table in Chez Monsieur with a view of the Madeleine Church.
“I can’t believe we’re finally going home. It’s been fun, but I can’t wait.”
Jack squeezed Laura’s hand.
“Me too. It’s been great. In my wildest dreams I never would’ve thought we’d get the chance to travel the globe.”
“And getting paid to report, no less.”
“Man, I feel so blessed, so lucky.” He shook his head. “We’ve got each other, and I’ve got my dream job. I don’t know how it worked out like that.”
Laura kissed Jack and said, “You earned it, Jack.”
“The job, or you?”
“Both, wise guy.”
Jack raised his wine glass and tapped his wife’s.
“It’ll be good to get home. Settle down, you know, throw down some roots.”
“Maybe even start a family?”
“Yeah, sure, but not right away. Let’s get settled in. We gotta find a place to live.”
“Place? We’re going to make a home, Mr. Reporter. Someplace that’s ours, with enough room to grow.” She looked directly in Jack’s eyes. “We need it, after being on the road for almost five years.”
“I know, you’re right.” He leaned over and kissed her, then said, “I’m worried about Grams, though. Since they cut Social Security back, she’s hardly making ends meet.”
“We can help her. We’re making enough, and she can always come live with us.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“She’s like your mom, Jack. We’ll find a way, don’t worry.”
“I guess. I know we’re making serious money, but have you seen the prices they want in New York? It’s always been nuts there, but now it’s off the charts. Five million for a studio the size of a postage stamp.”
“I know, that’s been a downside to the miracle. With no one dying, there’s a lot more demand for housing.”
“I was never comfortable with this nirvana thing. By the way, did you see that piece that Jimmy wrote about real estate? He documented an average increase of forty percent nationwide. I mean, even in Iowa prices have skyrocketed.”
“I know, maybe we can look in the suburbs.”
“From what that realtor emailed me, it’s not much better there.”
“We’ll find something.”
PART TWO
If you were to destroy the belief in immortality in mankind, not only love but every living force on which the continuation of all life in the world depended would dry up at once.
~ Fyodor Dostoevsky
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh boy, I can’t wait to see Mom and Dad. It’s been almost three years since they came to see us in Shanghai.”
“Well, with this damn traffic it might take us another year to get to Keokuk.”
As they passed another billboard with a picture of Remedy, Laura said, “This is crazy, isn’t it? I mean, I can’t believe Davenport’s this congested.”
Jack said, “Tell me about it. I thought once we got outta the city it would lighten up, but we’ve been driving for almost an hour and we still seem to be in Davenport. I mean, look at all these buildings. Not only are they new, but they’re ugly, to boot.”
Laura pointed to a series of ten-story, gray cement structures in the distance. “I’m pretty sure that whole area over there used to be cornfields.”
“Always was more money in real estate than farming.”
“Guess so, but to my dad it’s a way of life. He’s really upset they were forced to give up the farm.”
“Well at least the state gave them a pretty penny for it.”
They continued driving for another two hours, and though traffic eased, there hadn’t been a break in Davenport’s sprawl. Finally, after another twenty minutes, there were a few farms that signaled the end of Davenport proper.
Laura pointed, “Look at all these new buildings.”
Jack pointed out his window. “There’s still some farms left. They’re plowing over there.”
“That’s not farming equipment, city boy. I’ll bet they’re clearing it for a building. Take a left onto Main Street and stop at Fareway. I told Mom we’d bring lunch.”
“Geez, there’s a line out the door.”
“Oh, look at the First Methodist Church, it’s all boarded up. I wonder what happened,” Laura said.
“Strange, that’s been there a long time.”
The couple got onto the back of the line and began chatting with an older lady in front of them.
Laura said, “We used to live here, but we’ve never seen Fareway so busy.”
“Things have changed. Over the last month they’re only getting two deliveries a week. People line up to get what they can while it lasts.”
“You mean they’re running out of food?”
The woman nodded.
“I hope they have some fruit and veggies,” Jack said.
“Sometimes they do, but I can tell you they’re not the best anymore. Fareway used to have a wonderful produce section, but now they usually run out of things, and what’s left is no bargain.”
“Why don’t they just order more?”
“The big cities are taking so much there’s not much left.”
Two men began fighting about twenty people ahead.
“Disgusting, that’s the third week in a row people have gotten out of control.”
The fight was broken up by a pair of armed guards,
and thirty minutes later Jack and Laura entered the store.
The couple was stunned by the sparse provisions on the shelves and resorted to buying two browning heads of lettuce, some bruised fruit, and five cans of tuna.
***
Pete Garland’s second-floor West Wing office was elaborately decorated in royal blue fabrics. He had finished the Louis XIV furnishings with a desk that featured gold highlights.
Garland, now a special advisor to President Johnson, was reviewing plans to commemorate the formal opening of the meteorite’s permanent home. The glass and marble structure was designed by America’s foremost architect, Gianluca Brioso. The highly anticipated home for what was now universally known as Remedy was a circular building, and its glass-domed roof was reminiscent of a planetarium.
Garland opened the velvet drapes and gazed across Lafayette Square to the Remedy Center. He’d fought like mad, even threatening to resign, in order to keep Remedy off the White House grounds. Johnson had pushed to convert the Ellipse, where the National Christmas Tree was displayed, into an exhibit hall for the meteorite. Garland knew there was nothing to be gained by supplanting the storied area with Remedy, and the way things were now developing, it would have amounted to political suicide for Johnson.
Now that the edifice was complete, Garland aimed to protect his boss from the political fallout he believed was coming. He knew many things in life, like Remedy’s arrival, were random and he’d battle to influence what he could.
“Good morning, sir. Morning, George.” Garland greeted the president and his Chief of Staff George Mulroney, who nodded back.
President Johnson set the papers he was reading aside. “Morning, Pete. What did you want to see me about?”
“The Remedy Center commemoration plans.”
“What about them?”
“I reviewed the outline Corbin’s team prepared, and I think we should scale it back some. It seems a bit too celebratory, kind of carnival like.”
The Final Enemy Page 8