Forever (23 page)

CAUTION

Biological and Radioactive

Area

Strictest Radiological and Genetic

Protocols must be Observed

First Dr Vassiltchikov reached into a
wall-mounted wire basket and handed them each a plastic badge which
measured radioactivity. They pinned them to their breast pockets,
and only then did she unlock this door with her card.

Now they were in another glass-enclosed
walkway, one which led to the outermost perimeter of the
biochemical laboratories. Then came another steel door. And
another. And another. Three separate airlocks protected against
possible contaminants leaking out.

Finally, they found themselves in the first
of a series of smaller top-secret laboratories, each of which
required a higher security clearance than the one before it.

The first of these was bathed in green
light, and was unbearably warm and humid. Ignoring the visitors,
the six lab technicians on duty concentrated on their work: pulling
trays of agar plates out of incubators, using glass pipettes to
transfer tissue samples onto slides, bending over the lenses of
electron microscopes, tapping the keys of computer terminals and
studying glowing monitors. On these, flashing by like fish in a
sea, were no end of complicated numbers.

'This is one of the things I wanted to show
you,' Dr Vassiltchikov said with evident pride. She led the way to
one of the work stations. 'May I?' she asked a plain, middle-aged
woman whose white lab smock glowed Day-glo green in the light.

'Why, of course, Doctor.' The woman slid off
her swivel stool and stepped aside.

Dr Vassiltchikov stood on tiptoe, bent over
a microscope, and peered down through the twin lenses. 'Amazing,'
she murmured, 'yes, yes, truly amazing!' She straightened and
turned to the woman. 'This is still the same strand?'

'The very same.' The woman nodded.

Dr Vassiltchikov turned to Zarah and
Ernesto. 'When you look through that microscope, what you will see
at the exact centre is a single - I repeat: single! - diaphanous
strand of human DNA magnified one hundred thousand times! The other
identical strands crowding around it are its self-replicated
clones!'

She gestured for Ernesto to peer into the
twin lenses, which he did with alacrity, and when he stepped aside,
Zarah waved away a perfunctory look.

'That particular bit of tissue,' Dr
Vassiltchikov explained, 'should have lost its ability to replicate
itself weeks ago! But, as you could see for yourselves, it is
continuing to divide and divide, thus spinning off perfect,
identical copies of itself.' The little doctor looked around; then,
with both arms, she shepherded the two of them away, out of
anybody's earshot. 'We are on the verge of another major
biochemical breakthrough!' she whispered with soft intensity.
'Soon, we shall no longer need our sacrificial angels! We shall be
able to produce your medication right here - in the laboratory!
Imagine how much safer that will be for all concerned! And, once
our technique is perfected, think of the staggering possibilities:
through mere replication, one single strand of the Methuselah DNA
will give us centuries' worth of fresh medication! An endless
supply!' Her eyes gleamed. 'And not only that: we will never again
need to concern ourselves with a shortage of medication! Ever!

Ernesto's voice was hushed. 'My God! You
really have made breakthroughs! By when do you think you can have
this technique perfected?'

Dr Vassiltchikov shrugged. 'Alas,' she
sighed, 'that is difficult to predict. At least, we now know one
thing: it is not a matter of
if
it will be possible, but
rather,
when
. Now then. If you will come along, there is
still more I wish to show you. I'm certain you will find our
restricted diet results equally as exciting.'

Dr Vassiltchikov led the way to a set of
doors marked LIVE SPECIMENS and got out her electronic card. They
stepped into yet another airlock. The door behind them slid shut,
their ears popped as the pressure changed, and then the door in
front of them slid open.

They were in a dark, curving tunnel, much
like the viewing area of an aquarium or the reptile house at a zoo.
But instead offish or snakes, behind the brightly lit,
wire-embedded glass were a variety of animals ranging from the
simplest one-cell creatures all the way up the zoological ladder to
rats, cats, dogs and complex primates: Rhesus monkeys and apes.

'You remember our Ark room?' Dr
Vassiltchikov asked as she gestured around.

'So named because there are two of every
creature,' Ernesto replied, smiling.

Zarah did not join them, but loitered by the
entrance. Producing a handkerchief, she held it delicately in front
of her nose. She hated the combined smells of animals, faeces, and
urine; loathed all things that squirmed, crept, crawled, slithered,
swam or flew - with the exception of butterflies, of course. She
loved those.

Dr Vassiltchikov left her by the door and
joined Ernesto at the first window. Beyond the glass were two
double-barrelled microscopes, each hooked up to a special
television camera. She punched a glowing button under the window
and instantly, two high-resolution colour video screens popped
on.

Each showed a single protozoa magnified a
hundred thousand times, and both were identical in every way but
one.

'As you can see,' Dr Vassiltchikov pointed
out, 'the one on the right is dead. Fed an ordinary protozoan diet,
it lived for fourteen days, one day short of its normal maximum
life span of fifteen. That was a week ago. However, the healthy
specimen here on the left - ' She tapped on the glass with the tips
of her fingernails. ' - has been restricted to a low-calorie diet
through which it has received a minimum of protein, but enough
vitamins and minerals to prevent malnutrition. It has now been
alive and thriving for twenty-one days already. In other words
-'

' - its life span has nearly been doubled!'
exclaimed Ernesto.

'Exactly!' Dr Vassiltchikov raised her chin.
'But not only that; more importantly, the quality of its life has
been markedly improved. Just look at how healthy, how full of
vitality it is!'

They moved on to the next window, behind
which two other cameras, also mounted on stereo microscopes, were
hooked up to video screens.

'The lowly water flea,' Dr Vassiltchikov
said, pressing the button to activate the screens. 'Again, the one
on the right, fed its normal diet, has died within the parameters
of its ordinary life span, which is a maximum of forty-two days.
Yet the one on the left, born at exactly the same moment, has been
kept on a calorie-restricted diet. Judging by past tests, it should
enjoy a total life span of approximately sixty-one days.'

'Astounding!' Ernesto murmured.

'Yes. And all the more so since the
calorie-restricted diet seems to protect its genes against
environmental insults, cuts back on dangerous metabolic
by-products, and keeps its enzymes operating at peak
efficiency.'

'Remarkable,' Ernesto said. 'Truly
remarkable.'

'And now to the rats.'

'What kind of progress do they show?'
Ernesto asked, leaning forward into the glass, his hands clasped
behind his back.

'See for yourself,' Dr Vassiltchikov
invited. 'The one on the right has enjoyed a normal diet for the
past thirty months. Notice how its white coat has turned grey and
oily. From daily examinations, we know it is succumbing to a
variety of diseases - destruction of the heart muscle, kidney
disease, diabetes, cataracts, a general failing of the immune
system. If one of those don't finish it off soon, tumours
will.'

Ernesto now eyed the rat on the left side of
the divided window. 'But that one is still all white!' he said in
astonishment.

'Yes.' Dr Vassiltchikov looked pleased. 'And
healthy as the proverbial horse. Remarkably, each batch we have
tested came up with the exact same results. Those on a
calorie-restricted diet almost never contracted heart or kidney
diseases. And, while many do go on to develop eventual cancers,
they can live up to fifty months - a third of a lifetime longer! -
all because their food intake has been restricted.'

Ernesto rubbed his chin. 'Then you have no
doubt that a restricted diet leads to longevity?'

She shook her head. 'No doubt
whatsoever.'

They made their way to the next window.

Some effort had been taken to landscape the
inside of this one with a cement cliff and sturdy branches. Two
monkeys shared the space. The one tagged with a red collar was
sitting high on a branch, staring listlessly down at them; the one
with the yellow collar was standing at the back, facing them.
Obviously masturbating.

'Our oversexed Rhesus monkeys,' the doctor
said with a half-smile. 'Part of our primate trials. Since even on
a normal diet their average life span is thirty-five years, I will
be long dead before we learn any useful data. Until then, there is
no way to ascertain whether what holds true for the lower species
also works for the higher. Who knows?"

She stared at the monkeys and sighed
involuntarily.

After a pause, Ernesto asked, 'But how,
specifically, will Zarah and I benefit from these various avenues
of research? Are they really necessary? I thought we were, and will
continue to be, in a state of geriatric arrestation.'

'And you will be, so long as you continue
your daily treatments.' She looked at Ernesto directly. 'There is
no doubt that without the benefits of the Methuselah DNA, you and
Zarah would both be your real, instead of your current, geriatric
ages. Who knows? Were it not for the regimen, you might not even be
alive today.'

'I realise that,' Ernesto said.

Dr Vassiltchikov smiled. 'And then again,'
she said softly, 'who can tell? Perhaps every little battle helps
win the war. Your reduced dietary intake, for instance. You and
Zarah have both been on it for several weeks now. We know for a
fact that it is successful in extending the longevity in the lower
forms of life, and while it has yet to be proven as far as primates
are concerned, I am counting on calorie reduction to at least lower
your chances of developing tumours or other forms of cancers.'

Ernesto nodded slowly. 'And the growth
hormones?'

'They help you shed body fat, and convert
half that fat into healthier lean body mass. Also, growth hormones
stimulate the body's production of Growth Factor-One, which is an
extremely powerful, insulin-like protein. It helps maintain general
organ health and spurs the growth of tissue. Conclusive tests have
shown that six months of growth hormone treatment can cut almost
two decades of age-induced changes off any human body. Also, you
must not forget that ageing affects the heart, kidneys,
gastrointestinal tract, and even the bones of the spine. All of
these shrink as the years pass. Fortunately, Growth Factor-One can
combat that shrinkage.' She watched his eyes closely, it would be
ironic, would it not, if the Methuselah DNA gave you life
everlasting, only to have your vital organs and bones shrivel to
nothing because of a stupid oversight?'

'I see that you are covering all the bases.'
Ernesto nodded approvingly.

'I like to think so.' Dr Vassiltchikov
sighed. 'In light of our many dramatic breakthroughs,' she
cautioned, 'it is easy to become so caught up in our successes that
we tend to dismiss the significance of small but important details.
We must never lose sight of them! We must constantly guard against
complacency!' She paused and looked sternly from him to Zarah and
then back to him again.

'Above all,' she warned, 'there is one thing
none of us must ever forget.'

'And what is that?' Ernesto asked
quietly.

The little doctor took a deep breath. 'That
there is a wild card in every game - and that in this game, we
still do not know what, where, or whose card that happens to
be."

"A wild card?' whispered Zarah, slowly
lowering the handkerchief from her nose. 'What do you mean - a wild
card?'

Her eyes were wide and frightened. She did
not anticipate problems; she never had.

There are many wild cards,' Dr Vassiltchikov
explained flatly, gesturing with her hand. 'Accidents. Tumours.
Storms. Infections. An unanticipated chunk of concrete falling off
a building. A car's brakes failing -'

Zarah was aghast.
'Hor' auf damit!
'
she hissed in German.
'Lass das bleiben!
You are frightening
me!'

Dr Vassiltchikov kept her voice soft. 'Wild
cards, or acts of God, if you will, are a fact of life. You must
learn to live with them. No matter how successfully we can retard
ageing, who is to say something else might not occur? Something
entirely beyond our control? The unexpected airplane crash? An
earthquake? A newly discovered virus -'

Zarah was shivering,
'Ich will nichts
davon hor en!
" Her breathing sounded like that of some small,
trapped animal. 'I - I will not listen to any more -'

Dr Vassiltchikov's eyes flashed. 'I speak
only the truth, Zarah. Would you rather hide your head in the sand
like an ostrich? There is a saying in English: Forewarned is
forearmed:
Vorher gewarnt ist voraus bewaffnet
.'

'I don't care! I've had enough of this!'
With a sob, Zarah flung herself into Ernesto's arms and buried her
face in his chest. 'I'll never get used to dying!' Her voice was
muffled by his chest.

'Sssh,' he soothed, smoothing her hair,
giving her arms and shoulders and back little pats, placing kisses
all over the top of her head. 'There is no need to be frightened,
none at all . . . Ssssh.' He luxuriated in her helplessness and
dependence upon him. 'There, there. You have nothing to be
frightened of. Nobody is going to let you die . . . nobody is going
to let you grow old . . . '