“There’s absolutely no point in it working if they kill their mothers in the process,” I said.
“We have to contact Klaus and tell him what is happening,” Beatrice said.
We put a conference call through to Klaus’s com.
“Yes.” His voice came on the line after a long wait.
We explained the situation to him.
“You can’t let this project fail. You know that, don’t you?”
“We understand, but these women are going to die,” I said.
“They knew that was going to be a risk. They agreed to it in their contracts.”
“What do you want us to do?” Masanori said.
“Do whatever the fuck you can to make this work.”
When I went back to my room that night, after spending the whole day running tests on the sick women, I felt nauseous. Since that morning, two more women had gotten sick, so now there were a total of six mothers and twelve babies at risk.
Annie, who had been helping run tests as well, spent that night with me going over the results. Maybe the only way to successfully bring to term a fetus which had been modified as much as these had was to have a mother who had been equally modified. Maybe there was no way for an ordinary human mother to give birth to one of these children. It was like trying to get a chimpanzee to give birth to a human child. Neither their reproductive systems nor their immune systems were ready for it. We’d skipped a couple of hundred thousand years of evolution.
The only way to do it might be to somatically modify the mothers. If we could find out why the syncoblasts were failing, and somatically modify them, then we might be able to stop the internal battle that was raging inside them. That was going to take time, though. Time that the women lying in that clinic didn’t have.
The next morning, I hurried over to the lab. The weather outside was overcast and windy, and I looked across at the desert surrounding the lab and felt an overwhelming sense of futility and fear for the future of this planet and its inhabitants.
I tried to remind myself what this project meant to me. How I wanted to change humanity. How humans were a group of egotistic tyrants, greedy monsters who would do anything for their own personal gain, while at the same time justifying themselves and even convincing themselves they were good people. Just like I did. I tried to summon up all my dislike of humanity and apply it to the women who were dying in the clinic so that I could feel numb to the pain of their imminent deaths, but what worked on an impersonal level couldn’t be put into practice when faced with a dying pregnant woman. Especially not Mabel.
As I walked into the cool, white space of the lab, an environment I knew so well and felt so comfortable in, my mind and tumultuous emotions settled and I felt focussed and in control. Laboratories were as welcoming to me as my own home. In fact, they were my home in many ways — I’d probably spent more hours in them than I had at home. There was something refreshingly impersonal about them, something so separated from the everyday mess of humanity that I felt elevated to another plane by them.
Everyone was working overtime trying to find out exactly what the problem was. In the meantime, we were trying to keep the sick women alive as long as possible, at least until we could safely extract their children and have some hope of them surviving. The most premature baby to ever survive was eighteen weeks old, and these babies were sixteen, so it was only a matter of a few weeks.
“What about if we disarm both their immune systems?” I suggested. “How about those new mRNA decay drugs, developed for auto-immune diseases?”
“It might work,” Beatrice said. “At the very least it will buy us some time.”
“We can’t do that,” Masanori said.
“Why not?”
“It’ll interfere with our testing. We have to find out what’s causing this, or we’ll never be able to fix it. Besides, who’s going to accept a modification that requires the mothers to go on immuno-suppressants?”
Over the next twenty-four hours, we were eventually able to find the cause of the problem. The receptors that usually responded to proteins produced by the placenta to down-regulate the immune response by the mothers were not doing their job properly due to the high levels of modification in the fetuses’ DNA. This had launched an attack on the part of the mothers’ immune systems and a counter-attack by the fetuses. We thought the fetuses themselves might be affected, but it seemed that in all but two of the cases they were in fact winning the battle, and it was the mothers only who were suffering.
Based on the tests we’d run, we decided the best way to tackle the problem was to use a somatic therapy application that would modify the mothers’ immune systems and stop them from attacking the fetuses. This would stop the cytotoxic t-cell reaction from the fetuses, and both sides would call a cease-fire. But it was going to take weeks if not months.
Masanori and I had a conference call with Klaus and explained the situation to him.
“We have to make this work,” Klaus said. “That is our priority. Start the somatic modification trials.”
“If we do that the women will possibly die,” I said. “I think we need to either administer immuno-suppressants or abort. Either way, the decision should lie with the mothers.”
“We can’t afford to start a whole new round of trials. I agree with Masanori — people will never accept having to go on immuno-suppressants, but if we can find a somatic modification they might accept that. Especially if it helps them in other ways. We might be able to throw in a few extras for them, like improving their own immune systems. If the immuno-suppressants interfere with the testing then we can’t do it. I’m sorry, Michael. Find out what the problem is and fix it. If you can’t get it working this time, the project is over.”
After the meeting, I went into the room where Mabel was lying on the bed with a battery of medical equipment hooked up to her. Her round stomach protruded under the sheet like a tumor, slowly killing her.
“Doctor?” she said to me, her voice woozy. “Have you got a cure for me yet?”
“Not yet. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, I suppose. I don’t want to lose my babies, but I don’t want to die.”
“I know. I understand.” I took her hand. “We might have to make a choice, though.”
“What choice is that?”
“We might have to abort your babies in order to save you.”
“No, please,” she said, clasping her stomach. “Isn’t there something you can do to save them?”
“There is, but it’s riskier.”
“How much riskier?”
“We really don’t know.” I was optimistic it would work, but I didn’t want to give her false hope.
She looked at me for a minute, then looked down at her belly, rubbing it gently. “I’m prepared to take the risk,” she said.
“Please don’t mention this to anyone else.”
“Why not?”
“They are prepared to let your babies die.” I didn’t want to tell her the whole truth — that they were prepared to let her die.
“I won’t. How are the others?”
“They’re okay.”
“If I do die, my family will get the money, won’t they?”
“Yes,” I said.
“That’s okay, then.”
I went out of Mabel’s room, and into the rooms of all the other mothers and asked them the same question. All the mothers said they were willing to risk their lives to save their babies.
I went up the stairs of the clinic and out onto the rooftop. The sky was dark and moonless and a whole universe of stars shone down upon me, gleaming like tiny diamonds in the black rock of a cave. If I was going to do something, I had to do it soon.
I stood at the edge of the concrete parapet and looked down to the paving below. For a moment I imagined myself falling through the air, crashing into the ground. The feeling of relief was immense.
I sent a message to Annie, who was doing the rounds of the sick women, and as
ked her to meet me.
Ten minutes later, she came up the stairs.
“What is it, Michael?”
“We have two options. We can force the mothers to miscarry, which will protect them, given it’s the fetuses which are causing the problem, or we can try to administer immuno-suppressants that will potentially save them both. All of the mothers have said they’d prefer to try the immuno-suppressants. Either option will probably get me fired and maybe arrested. ”
“What do you think the chances of them working are?”
“I think they’re pretty good, as long as we can do it soon.”
“Let’s do it then. I’ll help you.”
“Okay, but I think it’s better if you’re not involved.”
“Why not?”
“You’re sick. We need to cure you. This is our last chance, and if we’re both arrested that’ll never happen.”
She took my hands and we squeezed one another tightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AT 2AM, THE immuno-suppressant drugs I’d ordered arrived by helicopter. I met the courier a kilometer away from the clinic so that nobody would hear the helicopter landing. By now all of the women were sick, so I was going to have to administer the drugs to all of them.
After driving back to the clinic, I hid the drugs in a storeroom and went into the lab where Masanori, Yolanda, Justin, Beatrice and Richard were working, along with the rest of the team.
“Where have you been?” Richard asked me.
“Getting some rest. Why don’t you all go and do the same? Justin and I can handle it from here, and the rest of you can take over from us at seven.”
“We’ll see you at six-thirty,” Masanori said.
I knew that when Masanori said six-thirty, he would be there not a second earlier or later.
Justin was just as worried about the mothers as I was, and I explained to him what I was going to do, knowing I could trust him.
“You’re crazy. Klaus will have you charged.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I can’t be responsible for any more deaths.”
“Let’s get to work then,” he said.
“No. You have to let me do this. I can’t have you implicated.”
“I don’t care. Let me help you.”
“No. If they put me in prison or fire me I might need you.”
“What for?”
I explained to him how I hoped to be able to use the babies’ blood samples, once they were born, to clone out genes for useful antibodies and culture natural killer cells to cure HIV-4.
“Okay Michael. Just be careful. Promise me.” He put his hands on my shoulders, and I felt for the first time that our roles had been reversed: that now he was protecting me.
“I will.”
The drugs couldn’t be administered directly or the patients risked going into anaphylactic shock. There was a range of other drugs that needed to be given first, and I went about hooking them up to their IV lines.
I wondered whether or not to try to inject some of the immuno-suppressant drugs straight into the fetuses, but decided that it would be too much of a shock for them and that they’d be better receiving a smaller dose through the umbilical cord.
Once the first round of drugs had been set up, I asked Justin to keep an eye on the mothers and went back to the storeroom. From the fridge I took the vials of immuno-suppressants and set them out on the bench top. I took twenty syringes from the cupboard, carefully drawing one milliliter of the drug concoction into each of them. My heart was thumping, and every few seconds I thought I heard something and stared around me, but it was nothing. Just the wind outside which had started whipping across the dry plain of the desert, tearing at the leaves of the eucalypts in the compound. I slipped the syringes into the pockets of my lab coat.
By the time I was ready it was nearly six.
“Are you alright?” Justin said. “You look a little pale.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. How are the mothers?”
“They’re okay. None of them seem to have gotten any worse, at least.”
“That’s a relief. Why don’t you go and get some rest? I’ll wait for the others. They’ll be here soon.”
“Let me help you. You haven’t got much time left.”
“No. Please, Justin. You can’t.”
“Okay,” he said. “Wake me when you need me.”
“I will.”
I waited until Justin pattered off down the corridor and then I went over to the station where Christina, one of the nurses, was entering some information into her com.
“How are they going?” I said.
“They seem okay.” She looked up at me.
“You can probably cut the rounds back to every hour. Give them a chance to rest.”
“I’ll let Tania know.”
“Where is Tania?”
“I think she’s down with Mabel.”
I walked down to Mabel’s room. Tania was taking her blood pressure.
“How’s it looking?” I said.
“No higher than it has been.”
“Good. How are you feeling, Mabel?”
“I just want to sleep,” she said.
“I know, I know.”
I waited until Tania had gone out of the room and Mabel had closed her eyes again and fallen back to sleep. I took the first of the syringes out of my pocket and took the cap off the needle.
I injected the contents of the syringe into Mabel’s IV bag then slipped it back into my pocket. I stroked Mabel briefly on the head and went out to follow Tania.
Tania was just finishing up with another of the mothers, Chloe, and I pretended to look over Chloe’s chart while she did so. Once Tania had left the room, I emptied the next syringe into her IV bag and moved on.
I checked my watch. It was six-fifteen. I still had fifteen minutes. I did eleven more mothers in the same way. Just as I was onto the fourteenth one, Juliette, I heard someone coming towards me.
“Morning Michael,” Richard said, coming into the room.
“Morning,” I said.
“How’s Juliette doing?”
“She seems to be fine.”
“Would you mind coming with me?” Richard said.
My body flooded with anxiety.
“What is it?” I said, following Richard into the corridor.
“It’s Jane’s blood results. I’m a bit worried about them. What do you think?” Richard sent the results to my public overlay.
“They look okay to me.” I scanned them briefly. “I don’t think it’s anything serious.”
“You sure?”
“I’m not really sure about anything at this stage. Maybe you should get Beatrice to have a look.”
“Okay. Will do.”
Then I realized that Beatrice might order another round of bloods, and the drug I’d just administered to Jane might come up, and Beatrice would be sure to investigate.
“You know what, it’s okay. I think she’ll be fine. Beatrice has got enough on her plate.”
“Really?” Richard said.
“Yes, it’s fine. If she shows any other signs let me know. Otherwise leave it. Beatrice needs to sleep.”
By this time Masanori had arrived, so I had one more person to dodge, and I still had seven more mothers to do.
I went back into Juliette’s room but Masanori was in there.
“Everything okay?” I said, glancing up at the IV bag. It was running out.
“Yes, seems to be,” Masanori said.
I stood there.
“Are you okay?” Masanori said, looking up from Juliette’s charts.
“Yes, fine,” I said. I decided to do Samantha first, and then come back to Juliette. If I did that, though, there was a good chance Juliette’s IV bag would be finished.
I ran down the corridor, but Tania was in Samantha’s room.
I came out and saw Masanori coming out of Juliette’s room. I slipped in after him and ran over to the IV bag with my syringe at the r
eady and injected it into the last hundred milliliters of fluid.
Just then I heard Tania outside, and before I knew it she was in the room staring at me.
“Is everything okay?” she said.
“Yes, fine,” I said. “The bag’s almost finished. I was going to disconnect it.”
“You need to disconnect it at this end first, you know that, don’t you?” she said, reaching for the catheter going into Juliette’s arm.
“Yes, of course,” I said, my heart pounding as I watched the last of the fluid along with the drug I’d injected into it run down into Juliette’s veins just before Tania pulled the line out.
I eventually managed to do the remaining mothers, and then told Masanori that I was going to get some sleep.
I walked back to my room in a state of sleepless shock. As I rounded the concrete corner of the building and walked up a small path to the covered walkway outside the accommodation wing, nothing seemed real anymore. I opened my door, went inside and lay down on the bed next to Annie, who was asleep, and imbibed her warm smell.
“How’d you go last night?” Annie said to me when I woke up.
“Okay, I think. I’ve got to get back.”
I dressed quickly, kissed Annie on the lips, and ran over to the clinic.
“How are all the mothers going?” I asked Yolanda, who was the first person I ran into.
“They seem fine so far.”
“Do you know where Beatrice is?”
“No.”
I pinged Beatrice’s com. She was by the bedside of Juliette.
“How’s everything looking?” I said.
“They actually seem a bit better this morning. By the way, Mabel asked to see you.”
“Okay.”
I walked down the corridor to Mabel’s room.
She had her eyes closed but as I came in she opened them.
“Hello Doctor,” she said.
“Hi Mabel. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. And my babies? Are they okay?”
“They should be.”
“I don’t want to lose my babies.” Mabel clutched at her protruding stomach.
I sat down on the side of the bed and took her hand. “I know. We’re going to do the best we can.”
Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched scream filled the clinic passageways.
Perfectible Animals: A Post Apocalyptic Technothriller (EidoGenesis Book 1) Page 19
