The Soul of the Matter

by Bruce Buff

  “Did your work identify a cure?” Dan asked.

  “No, that was going to take a long time. So I had to search for existing, cutting-edge treatments. Some seemed promising but couldn’t be developed quickly enough in the US. Another organization found foreign corporations that could speed up development. Trish—I mean Dr. Alighieri—was setting up trials at her hospital to test current treatments and prepare for foreign ones, should they become available. But, unexpectedly, a conventional treatment was quickly effective.”

  “What organization was helping you find new treatments?”

  “I can’t tell you yet. Maybe soon.”

  “Stephen, it sounds like you’re the pushing the envelope big-time, with questionable people. You really should let me help you further.”

  “I will, when I know I won’t jeopardize you.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “It’s nothing too serious. I’m just being cautious.”

  Before they could say anything else, they heard a car drive up. Looking out the front window, Dan saw Nancy, Ava, and Trish get out of the car. Ava looked up and waved to them as Nancy and Trish carried their bags up the steps of the house.

  Seeing the awkward look on Dan’s face, Stephen said, “Don’t worry. She’s not staying long.”

  “I can handle it.”

  Stephen turned to look out the window to the beach beyond, and said in a wonder-filled voice, “Imagine what it would mean if finding out everything there is to know about DNA, including its origin, revealed everything there is to know about science and the universe.”

  “I think that would explain your need for security. It would also beg an enormous number of big questions,” Dan answered, questioning how what Stephen said could be true.

  “That’s right.”

  Dan decided to change the subject until Stephen was ready to share more. “So the genetic code is really a code, like a computer programming language.”

  “Exactly,” Stephen said.

  “And once it’s fully understood, along with all cell processes, then scientists, if they have the right tools, will be able to change anything they want—whether it’s something simple like making people bigger, stronger, and faster, or creating a whole new species.”

  “Well yes, though there is an enormous amount of complexity that needs to be understood well beyond just the DNA sequence,” Stephen replied.

  “And this is where you come in. You’re trying to figure all of this out.”

  “You’re making me feel like I’m being interviewed. But yes.”

  “That’s an awful lot of power for scientists. Who will make sure they make the right decisions, do the right things? What about whatever you’re doing?” Dan asked.

  “These types of questions are what the whole field of bioethics is about. The president has chartered a committee to look at these issues.”

  “I’ve seen the list of its members. An unelected, eclectic bunch that meets four times a year is going to decide this for us? I don’t think so. I think it’s more likely that a lot of scientists will do whatever they want, whether they have the right to or not.”

  “Now you’re into the territory of what makes anything right or wrong,” Stephen said.

  “I’m an expert programmer. I’m very familiar with targeted cyber attacks that, in effect, aren’t all that different from biological viruses. So I have to ask, what’s to stop someone from designing viruses that target portions of the population by specific traits? Could someone go after something as simple as hair color, or even just a specific individual, based on their sequenced DNA?”

  “Nothing but time. After all, look how common and cheap DNA sequencing has become. It might be near impossible to stop the development of designer viruses unless the first to master the technology somehow finds a way to control all of it.”

  “That’s all very scary,” Dan replied.

  “Unless, of course, there are other limitations we’re not aware of. I think there may be some. That is part of what you’re going to help me with.”

  “To overcome them?”

  “No, to make sure they are not overcome.”

  They both stood in silence, taking in the beautiful morning and the water. Several minutes passed before Stephen said, “I have an interesting scientific question for you. What do you think would happen if DNA didn’t use compression to store information, and didn’t use algorithmic processing to direct biological processes?”

  “Either there would have to be a lot more of it, or there would be a lot less information,” Dan replied.

  “Let’s say there had to be several orders of magnitude—more DNA than known in human cells. Then what? It’s simple, obvious stuff. Nothing you need to know much about biochemistry to understand.”

  “Well, DNA would take up a lot more space, probably requiring a larger nucleus, maybe a much larger cell,” Dan said, intrigued by the implications.

  “How would that impact us physically?” Stephen said.

  “I see the professor is leading his students,” Dan said with a smile. “Well, for one, it would change the ratio of surface area to volume, adversely affecting critically important membrane processes and increasing the pressure on the cell membrane.”

  “Exactly. The larger volume would impact the overall ability of the cell to function, making it harder to transport molecules, maybe slowing down metabolism. And, this is a beautiful part, unless DNA replication was greatly speeded up—remember, DNA already copies three thousand base pairs per minute per replication site—the gestation period of offspring would exceed the maternal life span. The mother would be dead before the child was born! And to replicate even at present speeds, there has to be an incredible assembly line of correct nucleotides lined up, ready to be linked into new DNA strands, and energy sources to fuel the separation of the original DNA duplex to form individual templates for the synethesis of new strands. It’s just amazing. And if that isn’t enough to fathom, think about this: if cells were much larger, they’d have to either have more rigid cell walls, making them unable to move, or they’d be prone to rupturing. That would make life as we know it impossible. Darn good thing that compressed information just happened to be there, right from the beginning, with a means to translate and express it,” Stephen said triumphantly.

  “You know, you keep doing the same thing to me, teasing me with these extraordinary speculations that nobody but you seems to know. It’s getting really frustrating. Why haven’t I heard any of this from other sources?”

  “Groupthink to the extreme, lots of microfocus on just pieces of the puzzle, and an orthodoxy that tries to suppress anything that could have metaphysical implications. Oh, and a desire for academic prestige over truth.”

  “Anything else?” Dan said facetiously.

  “Well, since you asked.”

  “I was just being polite,” Dan said with feigned exasperation.

  “What if decoded DNA doesn’t explain how the mind works? What if, in fact, it shows something like the brain being the motherboard to the soul’s CPU?”

  “You have evidence for this?” Dan said in a sharp, intense, voice, as the battle that had been reignited within him between meaninglessness and meaning came to the fore.

  “No, but I’ll know soon. DNA has to contain the blueprint for whatever the brain does, or does not, do, including whether it is self-contained or works with something else.”

  “You know you keep blowing my mind, whatever it is made of.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that it’s so resilient.”

  “That is a recent development that I don’t want to jeopardize,” Dan said.

  After another period of quiet, during which big cumulous clouds cast passing shadows between moments of brilliant sunshine, Dan said, “I don’t get it. You claim that you’ve found things encoded in DNA that reveal more t
han biology, that also mean they are there by intent. Why would a God do such a thing?”

  “Whatever the reason, it probably wouldn’t be dropped there by accident. It’s safe to say it would probably be for a greater purpose.”

  At first pensive, then turning jovial, Dan said, “If you had the means to do it, what type of life-form would you design?”

  Smiling broadly, looking at a woman sunning herself on the sand, Stephen answered mischievously, “I can think of a lot of wonderful ideas, but it depends if I want my wife to kill me or not.”

  Laughing, thinking of the possibilities of enhanced humans or designed species, Dan responded, “Then do it for me. Design the perfect woman for me, as the price of my help.”

  “What if I think, as a form of natural selection, that you shouldn’t reproduce?”

  “I might agree with you but insist you try anyway. Besides, wasn’t complete sexual freedom, the fruits of a godless process if not world, one of the benefits of Darwinism that its early supporters liked best?” Dan said.

  “Ah, rights without obligations. An interesting conundrum.”

  “You mean like me having a purpose and plan in mind about whether I should be allowed to reproduce?”

  “You get it after all.”

  “Nah, I just know how to play word games.”

  “At least you think so.”

  “You know, seriously, either you really do have the incredible things you’re implying or you’re snowing me big-time, using knowledge of my present weaknesses, to get what you want.”

  “What do you think? You know me.”

  “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

  Stephen laughed. “I’m sure you will. Now, how about we get the Marine Biological Laboratory stuff out of the way and then we’ll have the rest of the day to relax.”

  Smiling, Dan said, “Geez, so much for time to think about things.”

  “This is a small thing. And you’re a quick thinker anyway.”

  “All right. I’ll see what I can figure out during my run afterward.”

  “Good idea.”

  Words no longer needed, they let the refreshing sea breeze gently ripple through the window and over them.

  It was one of those days that, in retrospect, seemed way too calm for what lay ahead.

  Chapter 24

  From his office at the Marine Biological Laboratory’s Genetics Research Center, Stephen had a panoramic view. The top floor of the hilltop building offered unobstructed sight to the beaches on his left, the water and the Vineyard in the center, and to his right, the Nobska lighthouse, the outskirts of Woods Hole, and its harbor,. Nonetheless, when he was focused on his work, as he was now, the views might as well have been cinder-block walls for all it mattered to Stephen.

  This building was just one of the many, scattered throughout the small village of Woods Hole, that together formed a renowned international center for research and education in the biological and earth sciences.

  Woods Hole itself—while it still had the appearance of a quaint fishing village—was actually now a major scientific research center. Beyond the world-renowned Oceanographic Research Institute, where Robert Ballard, who found the Titanic, was based, Woods Hole was home to a branch of the US National Geographic Survey and was also a meeting center for the National Academy of Sciences. On a per capita basis, depending on the time of year, Woods Hole might have more Noble Laureates than anywhere else in the world.

  Stephen felt fortunate that he was able work so close to his childhood vacation home. Some things, through no planning or action, just happen to turn out well. Before Ava fell ill, his whole life had seemed that way. Even through the illness, the best possible outcomes happened. Sometimes he wondered, why him? Why should chance favor him so much and so many others suffered?

  Now he wondered if he was overdrawn in the account of good fortune and it was time for fate to collect on a long-overdue debt. Perhaps, with Dan’s help, he’d be able to forestall any reckoning just long enough.

  • • •

  Despite the numerous times he’d visited the Cape, this was the first Dan had been to Stephen’s Woods Hole office. There wouldn’t be time for a tour of the facilities.

  Stephen was seated at his desk. After logging on to the MBL network, he stood up and gestured for Dan to sit down at the computer.

  “What exactly do you want me to do?” Dan asked.

  “I’d like to protect files here until I can get home and upload other files into the secure sites you set up. Then I’d like to permanently delete the files here.”

  “What about backups? Will we have to find and delete them too?”

  “I’ve excluded the file directories from the backup service. That’s why I have copies in multiple sites. They back each other up without winding up elsewhere via backups or disaster-recovery procedures.”

  Dan placed his hand on his chin and thought for a few moments. “I presume you don’t want anyone to know we’ve done this.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then we shouldn’t use your account. We don’t want anything traceable back to you, and your account probably doesn’t have the administrative privileges we’ll need anyway,” Dan said.

  “Can you do something?”

  “Probably.”

  “You don’t lack for confidence.”

  “This is based on experience, not vanity. Trust me, there are far more vulnerabilities in major enterprises than you’d ever want to know. It will take years to mitigate most of them, presuming they are willing to sacrifice current earnings to do it.”

  “You’re scaring me again.”

  “It’s not me you should be afraid of.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t help.”

  “Is there a kitchen or pantry nearby?”

  “You’re hungry now? We don’t have much time. Octavio Romanov may stop by. He’s been pressuring me to attend a National Academy of Science gala that’s nearby this weekend.”

  “HBC’s chairman?”

  “That’s right.”

  Dan didn’t have time to worry about why Stephen’s boss might be dropping in. He needed to get working. “No, I’m not hungry, but a pantry is usually an innocuous location for me to work, and they can have some of the more vulnerable network access points.”

  “Follow me. It’s around the corner,” Stephen said.

  • • •

  Inside a small kitchenette, Dan sat at a small table with Stephen next to him.

  He had been typing commands on his computer at a furious pace for fifteen minutes while automated programs ran in the background.

  Stopping, he leaned back. “I now have all the access we need.”

  “How did you do that so fast? MBL has a very secure infrastructure.”

  “That’s what they all say, though few do.”

  “I’m not a tech guy, but I’d like to know how you did it by just plugging into the telephone jack.”

  “First I tried the wireless network. It was well done, which isn’t surprising, since that’s the first place companies secure to prevent outside intrusions. Fortunately, this is a voice-over-IP telephone, meaning it’s connected to the overall MBL computer network. As is often the case, the voice network does not have the same local area network access controls as the rest of the network. Once I got on there, I needed an authorized identity to look around. Using an insufficiently protected Microsoft directory, I obtained anonymous credentials from your log-on, elevated their privileges to overall network administrative authority, and then mapped the network. Later, I’ll set up a secure, hidden VPN so you can connect remotely and delete what you need to, once I install the commands for that.”

  “I hope financial institutions are protected better than this.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  Stephen sighed
. “I think I’m going to buy gold coins,”

  “What’s the name of the directories of the files you want protected?”

  “They are all in a directory I named Adirondacks.”

  Dan replied mockingly, “Oh that’s clever. I’m sure no one would ever associate that server with you, given the cabin you own in that region. What’s your password? Something unhackable, such as Nancy?”

  “You really are a hard case, aren’t you? How about lightening up a little?”

  “Fine. Now enter a long phrase as your encryption key. I won’t look. Not that I couldn’t be recording all of your keystrokes. But for the record, I’m not.”

  Dan passed his laptop computer to Stephen, who had a scornful look on his face.

  After typing about twenty characters, he passed the computer back to Dan and said, “Done.”

  “This may take a while, depending on the size of the files,” Dan said.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the processing stopped.

  “I’ll install the secure VPN now, then the delete command that you will be able to execute from anywhere, and we’ll be done.”

  Before Stephen could reply, his phone buzzed, indicating that he had received a text. “Octavio Romanov is here early and on the way up. We have to finish now,” he exclaimed.

  “I don’t have time to install the VPN.”

  “What about the delete command?”

  “Almost done.”

  “Meet me back in my office. That’s where Octavio will go first.”

  • • •

  Dan entered Stephen’s office barely a minute before Octavio did.

  The media’s pictures and videos didn’t do the man justice. He was immaculately dressed in a seersucker suit and moved with apparently effortless ease. He had a full shock of gray hair that reflected his years but belied his vigor, and he emanated power and authority, yet somehow hinted that there was much more to be called on if needed. Despite his considerable abilities and position, he was known for his reserved demeanor and respectful interactions. He was so strong and confident that he had no need of standing above anyone else.