Forever and Ever

by Dan A. Baker

  “I just never really wanted kids, until now,” she said unexpectedly. “I have a lot I can teach them now.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Nielsen’s house was not nearly as big as Jasmine thought it would be. It was a lovely older home, set at the edge of the desert, surrounded by white walls and curving driveways. The pool was huge, and tall palm trees surrounded the property. When the chopper sat down, two big white SUV’s drove out to meet them. There were several brightly painted helicopters parked together in the sunlight.

  “It’s like Greenwich, Connecticut. Nobody in this group drives much.” Will said.

  Easton did not like the super rich and had to be brow beaten to attend. “All they ever talk about is money!” he kept saying, but perked up a little when Will reminded him that sometimes they could be talked into parting with some of that money for research.

  The Spanish approach to architecture was beginning to impress Jasmine. The home was built around a beautiful courtyard, with Bougainvillea in every color imaginable covering the walls and arches. Two large Magnolia trees grew in the courtyard, and the soft, erotic fragrance from the big white flowers drifted through the house.

  Marjorie had come a few days earlier and was standing next to Nielsen in a dark blue silk gown, with a pearl necklace and earnings. Jasmine had never thought of Marjorie as beautiful before, but she had lost so much weight and stood so straight that she was actually striking, and her round feminine face was radiant. She had picked a nice reddish brown hair color, and had her nails done in a beautiful white pearl polish.

  “Let me show you something,” Will said, leading her around the huge room and down the sweeping stairs to a small garden next to the pool.

  “I don’t believe it,” Jasmine said, walking out into the sculpture garden. Darla was already there, sitting on a bench sketching one of the figures.

  “These should be in the Louvre, but they’re not,” she said. “I’ve never seen this Matisse before.”

  There were about thirty in all. They were magnificent originals from the best sculptors in the world, and displayed with great care and admiration.

  “This is the last thing I expected to see in Arizona,” Jasmine said, slowly walking through the garden.

  “Nielsen is a real renaissance man, the rarest of the rare in this country. He loves the human form, and from his calculations there were only six artists who ever got it right. He couldn’t buy Michelangelo’s David, so he had this done,” he said, while stepping around a corner.

  The white marble copy of David, the exact size of the original, placed on a small mound, had the empty desert behind it. There were two small lemon trees on each side of the statue, and a little white bench.

  “He comes out here all the time. We talked everything through out here.”

  They sat down and just looked at the statue. Nielsen had placed the lights so the work seemed to float in the air. The genius in the piece was unmistakable. It seemed to be breathing, turning, and flexing without moving.

  “It’s there,” Jasmine said.

  “Yeah, we’ve been looking for it for two years.”

  “Looking for what?” Jasmine asked.

  “The gene - it’s one of the things he wants,” Will said.

  Jasmine turned to Will and searched his face.

  “He wanted to give his children to the world. He wanted them to become great people and help lead this country. He moved heaven and earth to provide them with guidance, education, and moral training.”

  “And they’re both dead,” Jasmine said, still mesmerized by the statue.

  “Yeah, it completely devastated him. Nielsen is right. Being a generation behind in the gene wars would be a bad thing. Facing a generation of trans-human political geniuses with carefully selected diplomatic skills with the low-horsepower con artists we have for leadership now, wouldn’t even be a contest, and Nielsen sees this. He sees this future. In one respect, he’s old fashioned. He’s also patriotic. And believe it or not, he wants to give something back, and I have a lot of time for that.”

  “PIES,” Jasmine asked.

  “It saved us a lot of time.

  “The pieces are all there,” Jasmine said, the realization of what Will was telling her forced her to throw her head back.

  “You perfected the master genetic engineering solution, and it works. You’ve been focused on reversing aging, but the treatment strategy can be used for anything…,” Will’s voice trailed off as a chopper came in.

  She looked at the genius of Michelangelo’s work, and thought about how rarely genius was available to be seen, and how beautiful it was.

  “Finish,” she said, her voice sounding very far away.

  “The post human future is going to be scary. Some people are going to overreact or engineer some serious human competitors. They might forget to be nice and to modulate; they might reach for all the marbles and to dominate other people; they might get rough, so it might be a good idea to win that future,” Will said softly.

  “Where are you on personality traits?” Jasmine asked.

  “That was the easy part.”

  “What was the hard part?”

  “Holding it all together was hard. It’s the same problem we have now.”

  “The little black Buddhist book came at just the right time. We looked at meditation and its effect on brainwaves. We found an enzyme that mimics that response, and built a gene that would code for that protein. We added a radiation controlled modulator and one of Earl’s feedback loops.”

  “How are you going to test that?”

  “We modeled the suite as much as we could. Dog trials won’t tell us much, so…”

  “What about human trials?” Jasmine asked, suddenly fearful.

  “Chimps.”

  “When does that start?”

  “We’re post one-hundred days now.”

  “And then…”

  “So far, so good, there’s high function, no melancholy, no rages, and brain waves flatten during stress, plus they paint,” Will said.

  “They paint?” Jasmine asked.

  Will led her to a small hallway with a series of framed modern paintings.

  “These are good,” Jasmine said.

  “Yeah, they carve apples, and seem to discuss the objects they create.”

  The party was surprisingly subdued. There were no waiters or catering people visible. A large buffet table and a self-serve bar extended across one end of the large room. Jasmine noticed the liquor and wine were mostly untouched.

  Jasmine only recognized one of the guests, a tall, good-looking dark haired man, who owned the largest business software company in the world. She remembered seeing pictures of him with Victor at the America’s cup races in New Zealand. He came over to her when Will left to get some food.

  “Enchanted,” he said softly, “I’m Lawrence Silverton.”

  “Good evening,” Jasmine said.

  “It’s time we saw an American in the Nobel win column again,” he said.

  “I haven’t won yet,” she said.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’ve followed your technology sector for quite awhile,” he said, ignoring her self-effacing comment.

  “It’s a hard sector to follow,” she said.

  “I think the computer industry created a new paradigm without really thinking about it,” he said.

  “Biotech is developing a lot like the computer industry,” Jasmine said.

  “That could be a good thing, or that could be a bad thing,” he said.

  “I hope it’s a good thing. So far, it’s made it a lot easier to do science,” Jasmine said, regretting the remark.

  “I’ve heard you’re doing some incredible science,” he said.

  “We’ve developed some techniques that should eliminate single gene diseases,” Jasmine said lamely.

  “And reverse human aging and provide immortality in a youthful state,” he said, startling Jasmine.

  She looked at him careful
ly, realizing she was in the presence of a real force, a real warrior. “Experimentally, yes,” as he turned in the light, she noticed his skin was shining.

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “How many are in Walter’s group?” Jasmine asked, deciding to cut to the chase.

  “There are six of us. We helped Nielsen a few years back, when no one thought it could be done.”

  “Are you going to be treated?” Jasmine asked.

  “Sure. The stem cells are working beautifully for me, so I’ll wait a while, most of us will, but yeah, I like living. Do you like the sex part?” he asked, rattling Jasmine.

  “It’s much better than I thought it would be,” she said.

  “I hear you’re wrapping up some early unexpected human trials,” he said, turning to the table and picking up a cluster of green grapes.

  “We were sort of forced into some early testing, but yes, so far, so good.” Jasmine found herself oddly attracted to this powerful man.

  “When?” Silverton asked bluntly.

  “It will be in a few years, when the gene program has fully expressed, and we’ve had some experience with modulation and controls. The animal testing is helping a great deal, as we can translate the information to human values very easily now,” she said.

  “I know, I used your analogs,” he said.

  “Rammy?” Jasmine asked.

  “Yeah, everyone uses him.”

  “What do you think will happen when genetic engineering becomes much easier?” Jasmine asked bluntly.

  “Competition,” he said.

  “What will that mean?”

  “The product will get better. Why did you treat Easton?”

  “He walked in dying, so we treated him with stem cells, and then we had to treat him with the master gene therapy. We were stuck,” Jasmine said.

  “That’s going to attract a lot of attention,” Lawrence said, watching Easton throwing up his hands in a discussion across the room.

  “He’s agreed to remain quiet for a few years, and I think he will.”

  “I think I’ll go talk to him,” he said.

  “Be a little careful. He doesn’t like being told what to do,” Jasmine said.

  Walter Nielsen walked over to her with a huge smile on his face.

  “Congratulations, Doctor Metcalf!” he said in a booming voice.

  “Thank you,” Jasmine said meekly looking around the room to see if anyone had turned toward them. She turned back and looked into Nielsen’s face, studying him, and thinking about what Will had told her.

  “I didn’t think we would have three human trials patients up and walking around at this stage, but with your brilliant work, and that of your late husband, we’re almost there!” he said.

  “We got lucky,” Jasmine said. “I’m just not quite sure where it will all go.”

  “Who is? Who has ever known how something this important will unwind. The trick is to guide it and shape it, for the best outcome.”

  “That’s the way Earl looked at it, as inevitable,” Jasmine said, looking at his face again, wondering what it was like to loose both sons.

  “The very bottom of your soul drops out, and the coldness of outer space fills your entire life,” Nielsen said, “and you just want to know why.”

  “Will told me…”

  “All you do for months and years is think about what those kids could have done, how much they could have achieved, and how far they could have gone. I look at our leaders on CNN now, and I weep. I see middle management types telling a frightened people what they want to hear.”

  “There sure isn’t much talent in government anymore,” Jasmine said.

  “It all began with Watergate. After that, it was a bad idea to go into politics if you were smart and full of hell, and it’s gone down hill from there,” he said, looking at her.

  Jasmine had forgotten he was a mentalist. “How did you learn to read minds?” she asked.

  “Orson Welles taught me. It’s actually quite easy. I can see your thoughts in your face, and with a little practice, I can almost hear them,” he said.

  “You’re going to bio-engineer children?” Jasmine asked.

  “Have bio-engineered children,” he corrected her.

  “Children who can be expected to behave in certain ways?”

  “If Will’s work is as good as I think it is, yes,” he said.

  “And you think the future will involve competition between people who have been genetically altered?” she asked.

  “Of course, and I’d like to have a few dogs in that fight. I think this country could use a few dogs in that fight, especially if you want to win.”

  “What’s winning?” she asked.

  “Living in a country with a marvelous political philosophy, leading the world toward a more enlightened future and holding back some of the more ruthless, less principled groups,” he said, reaching out to stroke her forearm.

  “And who might those be?” Jasmine asked.

  “I think you’ll find out soon enough. Here’s my new fiancé!” he said as Marjorie approached, holding out a huge diamond ring.

  “I told him I didn’t like diamonds, but he wouldn’t listen,” Marjorie said.

  Jasmine looked at them both for a few minutes, and laughed. “What a couple!” she said spontaneously. In a sudden unexpected flash, she wondered what their children would look like, and then it dawned on her, Marjorie had never had children. Would they? Jasmine wondered.

  “Of course,” Nielsen said, and walked off to catch Easton and Silverton.

  “Marjorie! That was quick!” Jasmine said, genuinely surprised.

  “I’m a sucker for handsome billionaires with nice hands,” she said.

  “Do you know what Will has been working on?” she asked bluntly.

  “Of course,” she said. “I helped him with some of the early behavioral gene work,” she finished.

  “Why?” Jasmine asked.

  “I helped because they are right. The future is now, and there are some scenarios in that future that I don’t like more than I don’t like doing some of the things we’re doing,” Marjorie said, while looking around the room.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jasmine asked.

  “Because you were overwhelmed already and you didn’t need to know. By that time, I had already come to appreciate this idea of only telling people what they need to know, when they need to know it,” she said, in a rushed sentence.

  “Are you going to have children with Nielsen?” Jasmine asked.

  “I don’t think I’ll carry them, but I’ll certainly help him raise them. They should be quite well-behaved children,” she said with a little goofy laugh.

  “They should, be, I mean their behavior should be quite predictable.”

  “There are a lot of ways for that to go awry, but we’ll see. How are Roy and Jonelle doing?”

  “They’re doing just fine. They left for Pacifica this morning for a week or so.”

  “We do good work,” Marjorie said.

  “We do good work,” Jasmine echoed.

  “We should probably do one more set of MRI’s,” Will said, filling the big watering station for the dogs.

  “They look great, don’t they?” Jasmine asked.

  “I think Ritzy is coming into heat,” Will said, trying to pull the shredded green plastic Frisbee out of her mouth.

  “Jasmine, your phone,” Darla yelled from the patio.

  Will looked at her, wondering who would be calling at this early.

  “Am I speaking to Dr. Jasmine M. Metcalf?” the caller asked in a thick Swedish accent.

  “Yes,” Jasmine replied.

  “Then it is with great pleasure that I inform you that the Nobel Committee this day has voted to award you the Nobel Prize for medicine for your work in eliminating single gene diseases. Congratulations!”

  Jasmine sat down in the kitchen and let the wave of euphoria wash over her. A Nobel Prize for medicine! In a rush, she thought about
the academic and scientific world she had so abruptly left. What would this be like? Could she ever go back into that world?

  Will was throwing the mangled green Frisbee for Ritzy, who dashed after it, barking loudly. She walked up to him and held him tightly for a few minutes. The light was so beautiful in the early morning she thought, as dawn spread out across the desert and onto the lake.

  “Your dad,” he said tenderly.

  “Sweden,” she said.

  The phone rang again. Darla slid the door back and yelled, “It’s the New York Times!”

  Jasmine looked at Will for a long time.

  “This is the strangest feeling I’ve ever had,” Jasmine said. “I’m elated in a way I’ve never been before, but I just don’t know how I’ll fit in that world again. I don’t.”

  “You deserve it. Your work is beautiful, and if it wasn’t for a frightened, superstitious human race, the world would be disease free now instead of twenty years from now. Congratulations,” he said, kissing her softly.

  Darla picked her up and waltzed her around the living room, knocking down paints and chairs. “I am so happy for you! Ooh, Sweden here we come!” she said, laughing hysterically.

  Easton rode up on his ATV, and jumped straight in the air when Will told him. He rushed into the house, and tore Jasmine away from Darla. “The beauty, the beauty!” he yelled again and again, hugging her so hard it was painful. Then he sat her down and looked at her, smiling, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the small, but friendly club of Nobel laureates,” he said, bowing deeply, suddenly reminding her that he was a Nobel winner.

  “I forgot! How long ago was that?” she asked, crying now.

  “Six-thousand years, give or take a few. I think it was in the Mesozoic!” Easton shouted. Jasmine hadn’t seen him for a few weeks, and she looked at his long thin face intently. He looked like he did when she first met him in 1970. The sparkle in his eyes was almost frightening.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “I feel like a giant fire hose of energy is pouring into me! I can’t wait to get to work and turn this country around!” He almost shouted. “Isn’t this just marvelous?”

  Will was furiously uncorking the bottle of Dom Perignon champagne. “It’s nice to know there’s real appreciation for science and knowledge somewhere in the world,” he said.