She became aware her breathing had quickened and was certain that Father Angelino must be hearing it over the phone.
"Ms. Morgan?"
Though dry lips, she rasped, “Yes, I'm still here.” She cleared her throat and attempted to moisten her lips with a dry tongue. She reached for a pitcher of water on the nightstand, wishing she had refilled her bourbon supply, and poured herself a glassful, downing it quickly.
"I don't suppose I can back out of this now, can I?” She knew it was a weak attempt at humor, but she did not want him to know how frightened she was. It would not be professional.
"Is that what you want?"
"No."
"I thought not. You are a brave woman, Susan. However, do not confuse bravado with bravery. You carry with you a secret known to only a handful of people on the planet, most of whom have a vested interest in keeping it secret. Do not underestimate the lengths to which they will go and do not underestimate the extent to which the tentacles of these people reach into the very heart of our society. Agents of these forces are everywhere, perhaps even among your own associates."
Immediately, paranoia gripped her. What if they were placed within NBS? Wouldn't it make sense, to infiltrate the media? She felt isolated, and almost paralyzed with indecision. Who could she trust? Had she made a mistake feeding the tape to Ray? What if he or Peter Arlington were members? God, what if Pope Timothy himself belongs to them? She cursed her own recklessness.
"Father, I think I should find another place to stay. You've really spooked me here."
"Would you like me to send someone for you?"
She thought about that for a moment. “No. It would probably be best if I travel on my own.” It was possible for anyone who Angelino sent to be intercepted, and reveal her location. She knew whoever showed up at her door would not be trustworthy, in her mind. It was best to keep herself hidden. The fewer people who knew where she was, the better. She was about to hang up and then added, “How can I reach you if I need to?"
"I will find you."
She laughed lightly, “Don't be so sure about that, Father. I can hide pretty well."
"I found you the first time, did I not?” he said matter-of-factly.
She was about to protest that as a member of the media she had hardly been invisible, when Angelino abruptly said, “Good bye, Ms. Morgan. May God be with you."
The line went dead, and she felt a sense of profound aloneness.
* * * *
THE NEWSPAPER HEADLINE caught David Warrenger's eye instantly: “SENATE TO HOLD CLONE HEARINGS.” Almost immediately his phone rang. It was Steven Hamilton.
"I assume you've seen the morning paper,” Steven said without the formality of a greeting.
"Yes, I was just looking at it. You've been called to testify?"
"Of course. Tomorrow, 2 P.M. Anything you want me to cover?"
"Just tell them the truth, Steven. We've done nothing illegal. You came off well at the press conference. They liked you. That's half the battle, you know. The hearings are going to be televised, so a lot of viewers will remember you."
"I hate this shit, David. I'm a scientist, not a press agent, for Christ's sake. When do you appear?"
"Right after you. Either later in the afternoon, or the following morning, depending on how long they take with you."
"You do know this isn't going to be a cakewalk, I hope? We've got several senators and that fanatic Armand Mathias all aiming their guns at us. They're pitting their ‘A’ team against us. Emotions are running pretty hot over this thing."
Warrenger sighed, “I know. I guess I underestimated the depth of the opposition. I knew it would be there, but this...."
"All we can do is argue our case. For what it's worth, this is classic science versus the status quo stuff. Science and progress are batting a thousand so far, historically speaking."
"I hope you're right, Steven. I'm not feeling very good about all of this right now. I'm wondering if I should have even started this thing."
"I know. It's hard for me to go through this too. Hang in there. I think we have history on our side."
"Thank you. I'll try to keep that in mind. Well, I'm going to try to get some sleep, although I don't imagine I'm going to get much. Good luck tomorrow."
"Thanks, David. You too."
* * * *
"THE COMMITTEE WILL come to order.” Senator Bennett banged the gavel and the chamber gradually grew quiet. He surveyed the room. It was packed to overflowing. He hadn't seen it this full since the Watergate hearings. The press gallery was crammed full. He noticed that many of the news services and networks had sent in their big guns for this hearing. This was news and he, Harold Bennett, presidential hopeful, was smack dab in the midst of it. He knew the spotlight could be a double-edged sword. Every move he made as committee chairman would be microscopically examined. His presidential aspirations were well known by the Washington press corps and like vultures hovering patiently, they would pounce on his most minute faux pas. On the other hand, a strong performance could rocket him forward in his quest for the presidency.
He looked over the agenda and frowned. Mathias was scheduled as the first witness, ensuring that the hearing would begin with a bang. Harold hammered the gavel again, more for dramatic effect than to quiet the room, which had gotten as quiet as a room this full of people was going to get.
"The Senate Science and Technology Sub-Committee hearings are now in session. Before we begin with our first witness, I'd like to introduce our committee members for the benefit of the television audience and the press..."
* * * *
SPRINGTIME IN ITALY was often rainy, and Susan found herself driving through a heavy nighttime thunderstorm. The rain was falling so hard her windshield wipers were not much use in the dark. Occasionally, a bright bolt of lightning illuminated the road ahead of her, followed shortly by a loud crash of thunder. She was on a winding highway, which threaded its way precariously through tall semi-mountainous terrain. She had traveled this road a few times, but not enough to be comfortably familiar with it, so she was driving with caution because of the raging storm. She had departed from the Vatican hotel hastily after her conversation with Father Angelino, filled with paranoia that was alien to her. She was a seasoned reporter ... as seasoned as a thirty-three year-old woman could be ... and was not one to spook easily. Nevertheless, something had stirred within her while talking to Angelino, almost as if some internal alarm had gone off inside her. That cold unease lingered even now. It was still dark, but morning would break in an hour or so and she would be grateful for the light and added visibility it would bring. She thought perhaps she should pull over and let the rain subside a bit before continuing, but she was filled with a strong compulsion to be on the move. She slowed down a bit. No need to be foolhardy, either.
She glanced into her rearview mirror. A pair of headlights was barely visible in the distance behind her, but she noticed they were closing fast. Maniac drivers! The headlights were almost upon her. The road ahead was still curving and treacherous at high speeds. The car behind her was dangerously close ... much too close for these conditions, she thought. Her heart began to pound. As a young girl, she often flirted with danger, driving winding mountain roads back in her native Colorado with the recklessness of youth. But those days were long behind her. This was frightening.
Finally, a long stretch of straight road opened up ahead of her, and she relaxed with relief as the car behind her accelerated quickly past her. His taillights disappeared quickly into the rainy darkness ahead. Idiot! She noticed her hands had been gripping the wheel tightly and her entire body had tensed. She laughed lightly to herself, loosened her grip and forced her body to relax, while at the same time lowering her speed a little more. The rain was falling even harder now, and lightening and thunder were flashing and crashing with greater frequency as the storm intensified.
She noticed another car behind her in the distance. This one seemed to be driving more sensibly than the
one, which had passed her so recklessly a moment earlier. Slowly its headlights grew brighter as it closed the gap between them. Suddenly, she felt a vague intuition of fright. Shifting her glance rapidly between the road ahead and the headlights behind her, she fought back panic. The car behind her exhibited no hostile intent, but was slowly and steadily closing in on her. Relax, Susan. Nothing to worry about. Yet she was worried.
The car was suddenly upon her, its headlights disappearing beneath the contour of the trunk of her car. Suddenly, she was lurched forward as the car rammed into hers. She gasped with the realization that the car was trying to run her off the road. She accelerated in an effort to create a gap between them. The car behind her kept pace, ramming her yet again, this time much harder. Her body lurched with the impact. Her heart pounding, she felt helpless trying to fight both the storm and this unknown driver behind her. Her car lurched repeatedly as she was rammed over and over again. Fighting to retain control of the wheel, she never noticed the curve. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, her car was crashing through the guardrail, rolling over and over down the rocky embankment below.
* * * *
TIMOTHY ACKNOWLEDGED THE knock on his door, “Come in. You have news for me?"
"Yes, Your Holiness. It is done."
Timothy sank back in his chair and nodded his understanding. “It is indeed a tragedy when death strikes down one so young."
"Yes, Your Holiness. It is a tragedy."
"Thank you. Please leave me now."
"Of course, Father. Goodnight.” Timothy remained alone with his thoughts and his conscience.
Forgive me, Father. I saw no other way.
Then, placing his face in his hands, Timothy did what he had not done since his youth. He wept.
* * * *
"THE COMMITTEE WILL call its first witness,” Senator Bennett announced. Armand Mathias approached the long green table, was sworn in, and took a seat, flashbulbs popping all around him.
"Reverend Mathias, this committee welcomes you. Senator Lockley from New York would like to ask you some questions. Senator Lockley?"
"Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” the nasal bray of Joanne Lockley pierced the air like fingernails over a blackboard.
"Reverend Mathias, thank you for consenting to be here with us today. I'd like to start by asking you to express some of your concerns about the latest developments in cloning, announced recently by the Genetic Engineering Project founded by David Warrenger."
"Thank you, Senator,” Mathias answered, in his best televangelist voice. “I will be happy to. Let me start by saying that America has been undergoing a serious decline in moral values over the past several decades. A general disregard for human life permeates our culture ... children gunning down playmates on the playground ... domestic violence at an all time high ... abortions being performed almost as an afterthought ... medical doctors sworn to save human life assisting their patients in painless suicides ... the list is endless. But I will not try this committee with a recounting of events with which it is all too familiar. My viewers, indeed the entire American public, is also fully aware of the state of this decline.
"Now, suddenly, we are told that man has the power to create life. Create it not, mind you, through the normal God-sanctioned method of natural reproduction, but through the manipulation of genetic material in the laboratory. This is an abomination!” Mathias’ hand came down hard on the table in emphasis. He became aware of the shocked expressions on the faces of the committee and calmed himself.
"My apologies. This is a matter of great concern for me, as I'm sure it is for this committee. Life has now become a mere commodity, a product to be created like ... like,” he groped for the word to convey the appropriate image, “...like soap.” Mathias paused, to let those words sink in, before continuing. “I have a question for the distinguished scientists at GEP. Have you asked yourselves this important question: Does this ‘life’ you are toying with have a soul? Has God breathed his holy essence into this being? Yes, I know that only animal life has been cloned, but can humans be far behind? Will you scientists, who so carelessly dabble in God's secret domain, claim that your methods will endow your creations with a living soul?"
The senate chamber was silent as the meaning of Mathias’ words penetrated the mind of each person present. Mathias knew he had scored heavily. He went in for the kill.
"If you cannot assure us that genetically engineered human life will contain a soul, then we are faced with the prospect of an earth inhabited by immoral, soulless creatures of infinite variety. I tell you, honored committee members, the prospect of such a holy abomination makes Mary Shelley's Frankenstein monster seem like a child's windup toy by comparison."
"Reverend Mathias,” Senator Lockley said. “That was a very thought-provoking statement. But let me ask you something. I think it can be agreed that the existence of a soul is not something, which is easily proven empirically. Given that, other than emotional appeals to our primal fears, what practical harm do you think we can expect from the continuing research of GEP?"
Mathias ignored Lockley's snide tone and answered, “Senator, I do not expect that we are going to resolve the age-old debate over whether God exists, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, or whether Man has a soul during these hearings. I have been called here today because I represent the views of a large segment of our society ... a large block of voters,” There, chew on that one, Lady, “who share the belief that Man does have a soul. As such, I can only answer from that perspective. I think my previous statement stands on its own merits as to the harm and danger that the unregulated research of GEP represents to the moral fabric of our society."
Senator Lockley stared at Mathias without expression for a moment, before deciding she wasn't going to win a confrontation with the Reverend. She leaned into her microphone and simply said, “Thank you, Reverend, Mathias. I have no further questions."
Senator Bennett said, “Thank you Senator Lockley. Next is Senator John Dunning, from Wyoming. Senator Dunning?"
The voice of John Dunning boomed with a hint of a western twang. Dunning was a known maverick, who regarded all of Washington with deep suspicion and fancied his own role in Congress as that of a watchdog over the scallywags who ran the show. Above all else, he was a strict adherent to the Constitution. “Thank you, Senator Bennett. Reverend Mathias, let me add my thanks to that of the other senators for your participation in these hearings."
Mathias nodded his acknowledgment.
"Now, Reverend Mathias, you say you speak for a lot of people, am I right?"
"That is correct, Senator Dunning. My ministry consists of approximately twenty million members throughout the world."
"My, that is impressive, I must say. Now let me ask you something. If you have twenty million members, that means that there are approximately two-hundred-sixty million Americans who are not members of your ministry, maybe even more, since your ministry draws members from other countries as well as America, am I correct?"
"Yes, Senator, I believe that your math is accurate, more or less."
"So what do you say to those 260 million Americans who are not members of your ministry and who may disagree with your assessment of the situation? I mean, don't you agree that there are many millions of Americans who differ with your views and who think there is much to be gained by the continued research into cloning?"
Mathias shifted in his seat. “Of course, Senator, not all Americans hold to my particular faith. But there are many Americans of all faiths who share similar fears about the decline of morality in our country and what cloning represents in the overall scheme of things, as well as..."
"Reverend Mathias,” Dunning interrupted, “we all know how you feel. But this committee has to make a recommendation that will be acceptable to all Americans. I am asking you for some advice on how you think we can best do that. How do we establish a policy here that is fair to your membership and those who may not hold to your faith?"
"Senator,” Mathias was clearly uncomfortable having to consider the idea that many Americans did not hold to his views, something it was easy for him to forget; preaching from his pulpit with television lights and show business razzle-dazzle tended to create the illusion that his world was the whole world.
"As you know, Senator, Congress has often had to be heavy-handed in creating laws and policies that many disagree with for the greater good of society. I think this situation affords Congress a unique opportunity to stand up for the moral fabric of society and loudly say ‘No more’ to the stampeding wave of degradation that is clearly ruining this country."
Some members of the gallery applauded Mathias's remarks.
Dunning seemed not to hear them. “Come now, Reverend Mathias. This committee certainly is no less concerned than you are with the problems that confront our society. As for the ‘heavy hand’ of Congress, I am not persuaded that has always been the wisest course for us to take. Throughout our history, we have been faced with many crises and history has taught us when government steps out of the way and lets people work it out, the people tend to find the wisest course. Wouldn't you agree it would be better to just leave this alone and let the people work it out?"
"No Senator, I do not."
"You don't agree the people are intelligent enough to find their own solutions without you or me or this committee messing things up for them?"
"Um, no ... I mean ... yes, I agree people are smarter than we give them credit for many times, but we must never forget the temptations the Devil places before men, to beguile them with a pleasing countenance to act against God."
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