The Hidden Genes of Professor K

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The Hidden Genes of Professor K Page 25

by Gabriel Farago


  In fact, Alexandra enjoyed the discipline and intellectual challenge of the task and realised it could substantially advance her position and standing at Gordon, not only among her colleagues, but also among the all-important donors who, as the CEO correctly pointed out, were the lifeblood of the institute that kept the lights on and the wheels of research turning. No money, no research. No research, no progress.

  Alexandra was no stranger to preparing speeches. She had done so on many occasions and was a natural when it came to public speaking and delivery. She always tailored her speech to suit her audience in a way that spoke to them, not at them. The way she tackled this delicate task was to pick a friend – preferably not connected to science – and write a story about the subject specifically for that person. She would then reduce the story to bullet points, peel away unnecessary information and structure the speech accordingly, avoiding jargon and choosing concepts and language a layperson could easily understand. On this occasion, Alexandra chose Jana to be her sounding board and audience.

  To put Professor K’s work into its proper context, Alexandra began to write – she always prepared her speeches in longhand – I have to take you on a little journey. We have to travel back to the 1940s and a place where atrocities were committed on an almost unimaginable scale: a concentration camp in Germany where life was cheap and morality as alien as kindness and compassion. A most unlikely place, one could argue, for an inspired idea that could alter the course of medicine and change the journey of mankind, wrote Alexandra, recalling Professor K’s letter. Yet, that is precisely where it all began. Not with Professor K, of course – he wasn’t even born yet – but his father, Dr Simon Kozakievicz, a brilliant Polish doctor who was deported to Auschwitz with his family in 1942.

  Dr Simon Kozakievicz was renowned for his extraordinary cancer research before the war. His work involved mainly identical twins. He was convinced the way to defeat cancer was through the immune system. He used twins to learn how the immune system worked and why one twin was able to fight and survive cancer, when the other couldn’t. This was quite a revolutionary idea, way ahead of its time.

  After his deportation to Auschwitz with his family, he was forced to carry out certain secret medical experiments – with the notorious Dr Mengele in charge. Mengele was using him. The lives of the doctor’s family depended on his cooperation.

  Dr Kozakievicz survived the war; his family did not. After the liberation of Auschwitz, he went to Switzerland and joined a prominent pharmaceutical company. He remarried and had a son, Kasper; Professor K. Ironically, the horrible experimental operations at Auschwitz – carried out mainly on twins – provided a vital clue that later laid the foundations for the further development of his ideas … Medical research rarely moves in a straight line. Light can come out of darkness …’

  That’s it! Of course, thought Alexandra, how stupid of me! The dark matter! The junk! The answer is in the junk DNA! She put down her pen, reached for one of Professor K’s notebooks and immersed herself in his notes. Suddenly, all the confusing threads of thought and reasoning were beginning to come together like a picture in the clouds. Once you recognised the shape, the picture emerged with astonishing clarity. The notes, data and often confusing diagrams and connections were beginning to make sense. It’s all about genetics! Evolution! Alexandra thought excitedly. That’s what Kasper, the iconoclast, was getting at. There’s a difference between junk DNA and garbage! Junk isn’t garbage. It has a function. Brilliant!

  By the time she closed the notebook and looked up, several hours had passed. Alexandra glanced at her watch. ‘Oh … not again!’ she cried out and reached for her phone. No cooking tonight, she thought. I hope Jana doesn’t mind. First she called Jana, and then ordered a taxi and headed for the door.

  47

  ‘You look like the kitten that’s just discovered the cream bowl,’ said Jana as Alexandra burst into the apartment, her face flushed with excitement.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Alexandra, following Jana into the kitchen. ‘I completely lost track of time … again.’ She threw her keys on the kitchen bench, walked over to Jana and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thanks for this morning, and thanks for being so understanding,’ she said.

  ‘No problem,’ said Jana, smiling. ‘You’re in charge of the wine, I’ll finish the omelette. My next best dish in a rapidly dwindling repertoire. Your turn tomorrow.’

  Alexandra opened the fridge and took out a bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc. ‘You’re on,’ she said, opening the bottle and pouring two glasses, one of which she placed next to the stove for Jana.

  ‘Tell me about your day,’ Jana said, without taking her eyes off the pan.

  Alexandra pulled a couple of crumpled pages out of her handbag, took a sip of wine and put them on the bench. ‘It’s been quite a day,’ she said. ‘You know when you’ve been wrestling with a frustrating conundrum for some time and then suddenly begin to see and everything falls into place?’

  ‘A light bulb moment?’ said Jana.

  ‘Something like that. Well, that’s what happened to me today. Quite unexpectedly. It was as if someone had handed me the key to Professor K’s world. I put the key in the lock, opened the door and stepped inside …’

  ‘And what did you find?’

  ‘Genius.’

  ‘Oh? You must tell me about it, but not on an empty stomach. Set the table. This is almost done. Let’s eat first and you can dazzle me with the good professor’s genius after dinner. If you think a mere mortal like me is up to it,’ teased Jana, a sparkle in her eyes.

  Alexandra held up the crumpled pages. ‘Don’t worry; I’ve prepared a translation, of sorts. You won’t have a problem,’ promised Alexandra, ‘I hope,’ she added and refilled their glasses.

  Alexandra devoured her omelette. She hadn’t eaten anything all day. Jana did all the talking. She told Alexandra that she had spoken to Carrington on the phone and sought his advice regarding her abduction. He was due to arrive the next day and would advise her on what to do. ‘Until then,’ said Jana, ‘we’ll stay put and keep our heads down.’ Jana pointed to the empty bottle. ‘But that doesn’t mean we have to stay sober. How about we open another one, and you tell me about your day?’

  ‘You’re on,’ said Alexandra, feeling relaxed and no longer so concerned about her situation. Having someone like Jana staying with her and an experienced lawyer like Carrington arriving the next day, gave her peace of mind and confidence for the first time since her nightmarish ordeal.

  Alexandra told Jana about the CEO’s request and the speech she would have to give the next day. ‘As you can imagine, a lot hinges on how I approach this, and how well I perform.’

  ‘Sure. It’s quite an ask at such short notice.’

  ‘It is, but there’s a lot more riding on this than that. I feel that the future of Professor K’s entire work is at stake here …’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘It’s complicated. I’ve been invited to talk about his work, his groundbreaking research and, most importantly, his revolutionary ideas. I will have to explain what it’s all about, under the spotlight. The eyes of the whole institute and its key supporters will be on this, looking for some kind of revelation about a legendary scientist and his legacy. A breakthrough of sorts is expected. I’m sure that’s why I’ve been asked to do this tomorrow. If I fail to deliver … well …’

  ‘Sounds tricky,’ said Jana.

  ‘It is. That’s why I would like to ask you for a little favour,’ said Alexandra.

  ‘Fire away.’

  Alexandra held up her crumpled notes. ‘It all hinges on this.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Professor K’s work is complex to say the least. His extraordinary mind worked in different ways, sometimes impossible to follow and always difficult to understand. He suffered from an intellectual impatience of a most severe kind. He was an iconoclast; a rebel who took nothing for granted and was prepared to question everything. Yet, he had an unsh
akable trust in nature. He believed that nothing in nature has been put there capriciously or in vain. He believed in purpose. Often guided by instinct rather than accepted method, he took reckless shortcuts and jumped to extraordinary conclusions. Quite unscientific and unsupported at times, yet always with a sound reason and inspired, almost visionary insight. I’ve known him for years and worked with him closely, but even I found it often difficult to make sense of what he was getting at, until this afternoon that is.’

  ‘Please explain.’

  ‘I’ve been reading his notes for the past two days, trying to fit the pieces together and follow his reasoning in order to understand his explanations and findings.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I was getting nowhere, but then something quite unexpected happened this afternoon. It’s difficult to explain, but suddenly it all began to make sense. I saw the connection. If he’s right, we are on the cusp of an extraordinary discovery and tomorrow, I have to talk about it.’

  ‘I see. So, what’s that favour you’re asking?’

  ‘I would like you to be my sounding board. Listen carefully to what I’m going to say. Play the devil’s advocate. Question, probe. I’ve prepared an outline of what I’m going to talk about tomorrow. It has to make sense to the experienced, sceptical scientists examining every word and questioning every idea, and to the laymen who at best has only the vaguest notion of what a gene is and how DNA and RNA work, if he’s even heard of them at all. This is a tightrope walk of a most delicate kind. A balancing act. One mistake … I feel that an exceptional man’s work of a lifetime is at stake here. If I fail …’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Ready?’

  Jana held out her empty glass. ‘I am,’ she said, ‘but only if you fill up my glass.’

  For the next hour, Alexandra delivered the speech she had prepared in the afternoon. She began by closely following her notes, but soon cast them aside and began to expand. Warming to the subject, she became passionate and spoke about Professor K’s work with a conviction and clarity so gripping, it left Jana mesmerised and speechless.

  ‘What do you think?’ prompted Alexandra quietly after a while.

  ‘Wow! I don’t quite know what to say.’

  ‘Don’t be polite. What do you really think?’

  ‘A tour de force of genomics. I’ve never heard anything quite like it—’

  ‘But did it make sense?’ interrupted Alexandra.

  ‘It did, but my head’s spinning. There’s so much to take in.’

  ‘I know. There’s just no other way to somehow explain all this, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Any questions?’

  ‘Quite a few. Let’s go over it, step-by-step. But first, I need another drink.’

  For Jana, the experienced policewoman, Alexandra’s speech was like listening to expert evidence in court. To be effective, the subject matter had to be clear and easy to follow. Every member of the jury, regardless of background and experience, had to be able to understand it.

  ‘You’ll soon see from my questions where you have to provide more information and explain things a little better,’ said Jana, leaning back into her comfortable chair. ‘For someone like me, that is.’

  ‘Exactly what I need,’ said Alexandra. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘I really liked the biographical background at the beginning,’ said Jana. ‘The reference to his father, the concentration camp, the horror of Auschwitz, the secret operations … fascinating stuff. It shows us Professor K, the man. No man is an island. Excellent, but I would keep it brief.’

  ‘Point taken,’ said Alexandra scribbling away on the crumpled page resting on her knee.

  ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but if I understood what you said, Professor K’s revolutionary theory is a direct attack on accepted dogma …’

  ‘It is. And that dogma states?’

  ‘Help me here,’ Jana said.

  ‘DNA makes RNA; RNA makes protein. Compliments of Francis Crick, co-discoverer of the double helix, 1953. Think of a gene as a blueprint for constructing a complex engine. The blueprint is written in characters called DNA. RNA is a disposable copy of the blueprint that is used to build proteins in the noisy workshop of the cell. Proteins are the engine running life. Clear so far?’

  ‘Absolutely. A gene is therefore a blueprint for the production of a protein? Is that right?’

  ‘It is. But remember, there are many genes, each with its own blueprint, and all the blueprints taken together form our genome.’

  ‘And instead of a complex engine at the end of the production line, you end up with a human being?’

  ‘You got it.’

  ‘But Professor K challenged that view?’

  ‘He did. According to him, the gene blueprint contains a lot more information than previously thought. More information than is required to make protein. This view had the establishment rattled, I can tell you.’

  ‘And what is that additional information all about?’ asked Jana.

  ‘That’s the new frontier of molecular biology. We are just beginning to decode that information. You must understand, the volume is huge. Some call it garbage; others call it junk DNA. Professor K called it a treasure trove of evolution accumulated over hundreds of millions of years, which must be telling us something. It may even contain the answers to many of the questions we are currently grappling with, such as how to cure or prevent cancer, for instance. Answers already provided by evolution and embedded right here in our genome, and all we have to do is try to understand what the “junk” is telling us. Decrypt it. That’s what he believed and was working on just before he died.’

  ‘How huge is huge?’

  ‘Gigantic. And all of it is new stuff. It began with the completion of the genome project in 2001. Out of the three billion letters of our DNA, only about one point five per cent carries blueprints for proteins—’

  ‘What about the rest? The ninety-eight point five per cent?’ interrupted Jana.

  ‘That’s the really interesting question here, and Professor K had some quite specific ideas about that,’ said Alexandra. ‘The new dogma according to Kasper now states that DNA makes RNA, but only some of that RNA makes protein. Notice the difference?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Alexandra put her notes on the table and looked at Jana. ‘And then we have exons, introns and splicing RNA. Ribozymes and Messenger RNAs,’ said Alexandra. ‘The complexity goes on and on, and so do the challenges and the excitement of new discoveries and possibilities buried in this new frontier. And it doesn’t stop there—’

  Jana held up her hand. ‘Hold it right there! You’ve really lost me now. My head is spinning.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Alexandra, smiling. ‘It’s easy to get a little carried away here, but this is most helpful. Thank you. But enough for tonight. Why don’t we sleep on it and continue in the morning? Early. Would you mind?’

  ‘Not at all. Good idea. I find this absolutely fascinating.’

  ‘Another favour?’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Would you mind coming along to my talk tomorrow as my guest? I need at least one friendly face in the crowd.’

  ‘I would be delighted.’

  ‘Excellent! It’s all settled then,’ said Alexandra, relieved. ‘We’ll iron out the creases in the morning.’

  ‘Let’s do that, Dr Delacroix,’ said Jana and reached for her glass. ‘A toast?’

  ‘Why not?’ said Alexandra, reaching for her own.

  ‘To a visionary iconoclast, a maverick, rebel and genius. I give you Professor K. May his ideas flourish and change the journey of man.’

  They touched glasses.

  ‘For the better,’ whispered Alexandra, tears in her eyes. ‘To Professor K.’

  48

  Alexandra was the star attraction of the afternoon. The CEO and his team had ‘marketed’ her well, and everyone – from wealthy retirees to corporate donors – wanted to meet her.

/>   As Alexandra walked up to the microphone, she felt confident and calm. The crowded room was no longer intimidating and the many inquisitive strangers she had met earlier no longer a distraction. Because she knew her subject matter intimately and was genuinely passionate about Professor K’s work and vision, she found it easy to deliver her speech in a way that was both personal, and informative. Having rehearsed her approach with Jana earlier in the day and fine-tuned the pitch, was also of great help.

  She spoke with affection about a man she had known all her life and admired deeply, and outlined his extraordinary research in a way that was easy to understand and had her audience spellbound. She peppered her talk with endearing anecdotes reaching all the way back to her teenage years that added a touch of intimacy and humour, making her audience laugh.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen – friends of the Gordon – without your generosity and support, this institute wouldn’t be here, and exceptional scientists like the late Professor Kozakievicz would not be able to do what they do best: advance medical research, reduce – even prevent – human suffering and improve the journey of man. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity to speak to you about him. I hope I’ve been able to give you a little insight into the work of this extraordinary man and in a small way, share his vision with you.’

  Once again, Alexandra was given a standing ovation. A beaming CEO thanked her publicly for an inspirational glimpse into a gifted mind, and hinted at possible advances and breakthroughs that may soon follow because if it.

  Stepping down from the podium, the CEO took Alexandra by the arm. ‘There’s someone I would like you to meet,’ he said, steering Alexandra across the crowded auditorium. ‘He just donated one hundred thousand dollars to the Gordon because of what you said. Congratulations,’ continued the CEO, and lowering his voice, ‘These are the people we need.’

  ‘How wonderful,’ said Alexandra, genuinely pleased. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘A businessman. From South Africa.’

  The mention of South Africa sent a cold shiver racing down Alexandra’s spine, but she did her best to ignore it.

 

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