God's Lions - House of Acerbi

by John Lyman

  “What about natural selection?”

  “In relation to what?” Diaz asked. He was frowning impatiently as he slurped his coffee. He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy guy in the group, but he was smart, very smart.

  “In relation to the natural hereditary mutation of a species versus one artificially created by man.”

  “Ah,” Diaz exclaimed. “Mendel’s peas.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Mendel’s peas, Cardinal. Gregor Mendel was an Augustinian priest who observed the inheritance of certain traits in pea plants back in 1865. He is considered to be the father of modern genetics. His observations led to experiments proving that certain hereditary characteristics are passed from parent organisms to their offspring, and when the theory of Mendelian inheritance was integrated with the chromosome theory of inheritance by Thomas Morgan in 1915, they became the core of classical genetics.”

  “So, they are one and the same?”

  “In a way, yes. Humans have been altering the genomes of species for thousands of years through artificial selection.”

  “Artificial selection?”

  “Yes, fiddling around with their crops by weeding out the unhealthy plants. Now we can do it with genetic modification in the lab. Take, for instance, wheat. Ancient man took his best and most hardy plants and used their seeds for the next year’s crop. They kept doing this until soon they had bigger and better grain yields and had weeded out the plants that didn’t seem to fare as well. In other words, through human intervention, they weeded out the genome for crop failure and thereby created a hardier, more productive species. They did the same thing with animals.”

  “What about men?” Leo asked, thinking back to the painting on the chapel wall.

  “As far as we know, no one’s tried it yet, at least not out in the open. There is some anecdotal evidence to suggest that genetic modification of humans was tried by the Nazis using artificial selection. Mendel altered bees using the selective process, but the hybrid bees that resulted were so vicious they had to be destroyed.”

  A sudden realization jolted Leo with all the subtlety of a cattle prod. Wheat same as man! Were the images on the chapel wall referring to some kind of chance evolution of a hybrid species of man that had sprung forth thousands of years earlier? Was this what the paintings were trying to tell them?

  “Good versus bad ... the Cain and Abel dichotomy,” Leo blurted out loud.

  “I beg your pardon, Cardinal?”

  “Good against evil ... strong wheat versus bad wheat ... good bees versus vicious bees.”

  “Really, Leo, what on earth are you talking about?” Lev said.

  “I know I’m not being clear. This might sound crazy, but we’re living in crazy times.” Leo gazed out at the hazy outline of the French coastline in the distance and took a quick sip of coffee.

  “Do any of you think it’s possible that, sometime in the past, two distinctly different species of humans evolved on the planet?”

  Alon was the first to break the shocked silence at the table. “What did you put in your orange juice this morning, Cardinal?”

  “I know that statement is pretty much out there, but that’s what thinking outside the box is all about. We need to explore every possibility. The theory of two species would explain a lot about human behavior over the past few thousand years, especially when it comes to questions of why some people want order and peace in their lives, while others thrive in an environment of chaos and hate ... why some seek knowledge and want to create beauty, while others want only to destroy all that is good and seem to derive their pleasure from cruelty.”

  The demure Dr. Vargas finally spoke up. “And how do you propose to prove this theory, Cardinal? As an epidemiologist and statistician, I can tell you now that it would take years of worldwide sampling to discover the genetic variant of a different species within the same genome, and that’s only the beginning. You would then be faced with the daunting task of matching that variant with the traits you describe and proving that the genetic variant is the source of the behavior.”

  “I think there’s an easier way, Doctor. What if you and your team could compile a quick profile of all the people who died in New York and Italy?”

  “All the people? No way.” Evita’s gaze took on a faraway look as she thought. “On second thought, it might be possible if the authorities from both countries would be willing to share their data with us. It might be easier in Italy, especially if the request for information on the victims came from the Vatican. Obtaining anything from the CDC in America is a different story. We’ve dealt with them before. The only way we could get them to cooperate is if they were ordered to do so by someone pretty high up the chain of command ... someone like the President.”

  “I’ll put in a call to Tel Aviv,” Lev said. “Maybe they can have their counterparts in America deal with the CDC.”

  “What about Italy?”

  “I think we know someone pretty high up there,” Leo said.

  Evita smiled back at him. “Well, if you can get that kind of data, we need to know what the victims had in common, including their DNA profiles. At least that would enable us to look for unusual variations not found in a normal population. There may be additional components we aren’t yet aware of.”

  “What kinds of components?”

  “I’m still thinking about that. Behavioral traits linked to a specific genetic profile ... who knows? I would think that if there had been another species of humans living among us with different DNA, they would have already revealed themselves through certain traits ... like wheat that’s gone bad in the middle of a field of healthy plants.”

  “What if you’re right?” Ariella asked, suddenly joining the conversation. “What would be the outcome of discovering that there are two different species of humans living on the planet? I mean, if that were true, we’ve been living alongside each other for thousands of years.”

  Raul Diaz looked indignant “Which brings up another point. Through the natural intermingling of the two species, some of the same basic DNA sequences, along with certain variants, would be found in both species by now.”

  “You say some, Doctor, but not all,” Leo said. “There could be a mutated gene within a certain population we haven’t discovered yet.”

  “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you’re right, Leo,” John interjected. “That there are two species of humans living on the planet now. Are we looking at segregating the human race, one species against the other ... racial profiling? Civilization would be destroyed by that kind of prejudice.”

  Leo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I think we’re dealing with an entirely new concept. Look, everyone, we’re not talking about race here. Maybe we’re looking at a genetically induced tendency toward good versus a genetic predisposition toward evil ... something that would exist within every race, because we’re talking about species, not race. I mean, have you ever been in a room with someone that made you so uncomfortable that you wanted to excuse yourself and leave for no apparent reason? Or met someone on the street with cold, lifeless eyes, and there was no doubt in your mind that they could probably kill you with no remorse just as easily as they could order up a hamburger? No one, especially me, is advocating any kind of a witch hunt here. All I’m saying is that we should be looking at every possibility when it comes to finding out why specific groups of people are being singled out to die. There’s got to be some kind of commonality. I’m certainly not putting myself out there as any kind of expert, but if there’s a pattern to this plague that can explain why some people are dying while others go about their daily lives without so much as a cough, then we need to consider any new angle that will help us solve the puzzle ... no matter how bizarre it sounds.”

  “I’d like to add an opinion,” Mendoza said. He had been strangely quiet throughout the entire exchange. “Despite the fact that I believe the answer lies elsewhere, as an anthropologist, I think that the cardinal has some valid
points. The very thing he describes has happened before in our past, although we’re not quite sure how it happened.”

  “What are you referring to, Javier?” Leo asked.

  “The Neanderthals. They lived in the last glacial age for a span of about 100,000 years. Evidence suggests that they ranged across most of Europe and parts of Central Asia. Most laypeople have always assumed that they lived in Africa, but no true Neanderthal fossils have ever been discovered there. In fact, none have been found further south than Israel. Genetic evidence suggests interbreeding took place with Homo Sapiens, better known as modern humans, around 50,000 years ago in the Middle East. We’ve recently discovered that roughly 4% of the genome of people from Eurasia was contributed by Neanderthals. In other words, a part of the Neanderthal species still resides within the human population today.”

  “What happened to them?” Ariella asked, her eyes growing wide. She had received one of the finest educations in the world, yet she had never heard any of this before.

  “Basically, there are two theories. The Neanderthals disappeared from the fossil record about 25,000 years ago. The last traces of their culture have been found at Gorham’s Cave on the remote south-facing coast of Gibraltar. One scenario postulates that the more docile Neanderthals were a separate species from modern humans and became extinct due to interaction with them after they moved into their habitat. Some evidence even points to violent conflict. The other theory is that the Neanderthals were actually a contemporary human subspecies that bred with Homo Sapiens and disappeared through absorption. That’s called the interbreeding hypothesis.”

  Leo leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “Which theory do you subscribe to, Javier?”

  “Personally, I believe that, to some extent, interbreeding led to their eventual fate. But I also believe that there were other populations that remained totally Neanderthal and were driven to extinction by modern humans, who were much more aggressive. The evidence of them holding out in an isolated cave on Gibraltar, surrounded by water, almost 25,000 years ago, suggests a last stand scenario by a desperate and peaceful group who wanted only to survive and be left alone.”

  Mendoza’s observation made it obvious to Leo that things weren’t so neat and tidy after all. Mankind had been fighting for survival and dominance for thousands of years before organized religion and political ideology came on the scene—fertile ground for a primitive and evolving species to decide which direction it wanted to go.

  “But that still brings us back to the point of some kind of target group, if there is a target group,” Lev said. “Surely some kind of pattern would have emerged by now.”

  “The dispersal in New York was very small and died out very quickly,” Diaz said. “It didn’t have the chance to affect everyone. That one fact alone leads me to believe that those responsible for the attack are still concerned that the pathogen they created might somehow mutate and end up affecting everyone, including themselves. That would explain why the pathogen was designed to die out quickly ... so it wouldn’t spread. It’s possible that these outbreaks were only trial runs to rule out possible mutation.”

  Ariella drummed her fingers on the table. “But going back to what you said earlier, Dr. Diaz, over time it would have been impossible for two different species of humans to live side by side without each inheriting most of the DNA of the other. If there had been two separate species, their unique DNA makeup would have been mixed thousands of years ago due to the inevitable interbreeding between the two, just like the Neanderthals. At this point, wouldn’t it be utterly impossible to engineer a virus that would target only one of them and not the other?”

  “You know, all of this talk about two different species has made me think,” Diaz said. “The cardinal here is a very astute fellow. Whether or not he realizes it yet, he may have just stumbled on the key to how the virus picks its victims. Carrying forth his hypothesis on two different species, it would seem likely that, in order for this virus to target only one group, the members of that group would have to be somehow predisposed to its effects. In other words, if their DNA makeup was not already different from that of other humans, it would have to be altered somehow by whoever is spreading the virus, otherwise it would affect everyone. The only way they could make this happen is if they created a mutated gene within a certain population ... an artificially engineered gene we haven’t discovered yet. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but I believe that the people responsible for spreading this virus are somehow prepping their victims.”

  Everyone at the table stared in silence at Dr. Diaz. In a give and take scientific discussion that had lasted all of thirty minutes, he had nailed it. His was the most logical explanation as to why the virus targeted some and spared others.

  Leo felt a sudden vindication for his decision to ask for help from the Spanish scientists. Running his fingers over the surface of the table, he looked up and saw Evita Vargas staring at him. “In view of what Dr. Diaz just said, Cardinal, I believe the data you requested on the victims will still be a critical piece of the puzzle. The details on the lives of those who died will help us determine not only how they came into contact with the pathogen, but may provide clues as to how they were prepped to make them susceptible to it.”

  Finishing the last of his coffee, Mendoza reached into his pocket and tossed a small metal tube across the table to Leo.

  “What’s this?”

  “The lab in Barcelona sent that to us while we were waiting on the dock this morning. The military found it at the crash site.”

  “What is it?”

  “See for yourself. I think you’ll recognize the contents.” Mendoza saw the worried look on Leo’s face. “Don’t worry, Cardinal, the lab checked it out for any contamination. It’s clean.”

  Unscrewing the top, Leo saw something he handled every day ... a stack of small round communion wafers.

  “We believe that metal canister probably belonged to Cardinal Orsini. We were told that it was part of a kit he used to say mass when he was away from the Vatican.”

  Leo let some of the round wafers fall out into his hand. Looking closer, his eyes widened when he saw that they had the seal of Pope Michael imprinted on their surface.

  “Something’s not right here,” Leo said.

  “What is it, Cardinal?”

  “These hosts ... only one person in the world is allowed to use these ... the pope. They were made specifically for his private chapel. No one else should have had them in their possession, even Orsini. These need to be sent back to the lab, Javier.”

  “But they’ve already been checked for contamination.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. I want them to check the variety of the wheat used to make these ... and Javier, make sure they include a genetic profile.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Lev’s flip-flops dangled from his tanned, calloused feet as he sat in the bridge and looked out over an empty sea. “I suppose we should put into a French port soon.”

  “We don’t have much choice,” Alex Pappas replied. The Carmela’s captain was looking through his binoculars for signs of other ships in the area. “Our fuel tanks are less than half-full and we need to top them off while we still have a chance. The spread of the virus is shutting down ports all over the world.”

  “Maybe we should have planned ahead and purchased a sailboat.”

  “Then I wouldn’t be your captain, sir. The biggest thing I’ve sailed was a small fifteen-footer my father gave me when I was a teenager. Besides, a mainsail for one of those mega-yachts costs almost as much as an engine.”

  “Let’s head into Monaco. They’ve just expanded their harbor to accept large yachts. Bishop Morelli and I were there last year during the Grand Prix.”

  “I suppose you stayed at the Hotel de Paris?”

  “No, we didn’t. Why are you grinning at me like that?”

  “Because I know how you are about the hotels you stay in.”

  Lev grunted and sipped
his coffee. “You think I’m a snob when it comes to hotels?”

  “I just know you enjoy your comforts. Can’t say I blame you ... you get what you pay for.”

  “Actually, we stayed in Menton on the Cote D′ Azur. It’s only about seven kilometers from Monaco on that narrow coastal road close to where Princess Grace had her fatal accident. I have a friend in Menton who owns a beautiful turn-of-the-century mansion that was converted into a hotel after the war. Most of his guests are English tourists getting on in age. I once put in an order to have breakfast delivered to my room at seven. A pretty, dark-haired girl knocked on my door with my breakfast tray at exactly seven ... not one minute before or one minute after. It’s that kind of place. You can probably get that kind of personal service at the Hotel de Paris, but you’ll pay ten times the price.”

  “My father used to love going into the harbor at Monaco when he was a captain, but he said that things have changed over the years. Apparently, even the dock boys act like they’re rich and famous.”

  “Yes, it’s gotten much worse there, especially when they’re hosting the Grand Prix. Back in the 1950’s and ‘60’s, Formula 1 racing was still all about individuals who built and drove some of the finest racing machines in the world without any backing from major corporations. The teams would actually park their race cars right on the street, and you could walk up and peek inside the cockpit while the mechanics worked on them. It was wonderful. Now, it’s all about corporate sponsors and computers and cars with automatic transmissions. Automatic transmissions! Can you believe it? Instead of driving talent, aerodynamics is the new buzzword, and the cars are fenced off from public view. You can’t get within 100 yards of them now without being tackled by twenty security guards.”

  Alex was smiling at Lev’s Grand Prix rant as he walked over to the navigation computer and began punching in GPS coordinates for the Principality of Monaco. The large yacht began a slow arc toward the northeast as the intercom buzzed on the center console. Lev picked up the receiver and listened briefly before setting it back down.