“Is there a way we can develop a test to detect these people?” the representative from the Arab-African Republic of Egypt asked Louis, pausing the hologram that Dinesh was projecting. “After all, it is a genetic modification, there must be a way to map and detect it.”
Dinesh looked at Louis, waiting for his support.
“It is not mapped to a specific gene,” Louis answered, “It is kind of spread over the whole DNA, and all DNA strands are different, so…”
“Then how were you able to discover that you and your relatives had developed immortality?” The member from the Sub-Saharan African Union interrupted Louis in the middle of his sentence.
“If you let me finish my sentence, I will tell you,” Louis replied, without hiding his irritation. “I discovered that my family and I had become immortal, because I ran a long series of experiments on biological samples, both mine and those of my closest relatives. After doing so I saw that somehow our DNA had morphed into something new. So yes, you can run a test, but it will take six months, you will need to be invasive, and it will cost some money. In short: you can find out if someone is immortal but it will be much more complicated than it seems.”
“This means that this new species, let’s call it the ‘Homo sapiens immortalis’, will silently become dominant, as they will pass immortality on to their offspring and over time there will be no more mortals.” The remark came from the European member.
“That’s correct,” the American member jumped in, “and while this might not pose a problem to the blocs that have fully legalized Telomerax, it is a major problem for all the others which are still banning the drug. Over the centuries, their populations will become immortal, too.”
“I fully appreciate you realizing the extent of the problem, if we can call it so,” Louis commented in the silence that followed, “Even more, I do not understand what you are expecting of me. I shared all I knew about Telomerax, and I cannot compete with any big corporation like the one of Dinesh, or the ‘Prosperity’ conglomerate in China, when it comes to doing new research. Nowadays, I am more part of history than someone that can help chart the way into the future.”
“You indeed went a bit too far with sharing your knowledge,” the Indian delegate said, “to the extent that private organizations can now run the immortality test procedure, for those that are curious enough and are willing to pay for it. They just need to spend a few weeks visiting one of the many clinics that are popping up in countries where Telomerax is allowed.”
“Well, that should actually help you,” Louis snapped back sarcastically, “I am sure governments have found a way to sneak into the clinics’ databases. Over time, you will get to know who is immortal and who is not. To be more precise, governments will eventually know something about other countries’ citizens, as people tend to take these tests abroad, just to make sure that their own government does not know about it. Don’t expect me to feel guilty, I’ve held Telomerax secrets for a long time and in retrospect I think it was a big mistake. Or is the World Federation thinking about arresting and prosecuting me for publishing all my works?”
“We have no intention of accusing you, Dr. Picard,” Palmerston Carbone, the commissioner from the Latin American League said with a broad smile. “The war left five billion dead. Even places like my country, Brazil, that were outside the combat zones, had to endure the epidemics and pest storms and ultimately paid a huge price in terms of lives. We all know there were no culprits, or maybe too many agents that interacted in a catastrophic way. However, our concern today is that this new immortal strain of humanity might bring back recrimination and resentment, and draw new divisions between people. That’s why we are seeking your help and advice.”
“But that’s exactly what we should have overcome with the Beijing Treaty of 2055 that ended the war,” Louis replied, “where basically every major political bloc accepted the decisions the other blocs made with respect to Telomerax adoption and control, and at the same time the individuals were granted the right to opt for the bloc they preferred. It was decided so, and I agree that in order to avoid major differences dividing nations, and groups within nations, it’s necessary for this to be in effect. Again, if you opt to live in a bloc where Telomerax is somehow legal, there is virtually no difference between an immortal and a non-immortal person that gets her periodic Telomerax shot. Bear in mind that immortal does not mean eternal, as I painfully experienced with the loss of my wife, Dora. Over time, even if you are immortal, you will incur some accident and die anyway. In fact, we have massively increased average life duration, and made it possible to live longer according to one’s physical health and with ever increasing intelligence. The big drawback is that death, unlike in the past, will mostly be sudden and unexpected.”
“That’s undoubtedly true,” Dinesh chimed in to reinforce Louis’ message, showing a video on the screen from the World Health Organization, “We have run several simulations, based on available mortality statistics. Average lifespan is now anywhere between 170 and 280 years, depending on where you live. The two dominant causes of death are now strokes of all kinds, followed by cancer and other incurable illnesses. Medical reasons are just a notch more frequent than murders and other violence-inducted deaths, while car and other transport accidents have virtually disappeared, thanks to autonomous cars. Then we have a long list of any sort of accidents, from slipping in the bathroom to accidentally falling off a cliff - in a nutshell, bad luck. Really bad, if you are immortal.”
“Ok, that is understood,” the Chinese chairman was trying to conclude the hearing, “yet the mere existence of the immortals, and our relative inability to track and deal with them, is increasingly stirring the public opinion, for different reasons in different countries. Dr. Picard, we just want to avoid any risk that this might spin out of control again, as mankind would likely not survive another catastrophe like the last one.”
Silence fell in the room. Louis took a moment to collect his thoughts, then moved his eyes back to the chairman and spoke.
“I had a free half day yesterday, and I decided to spend it at the Capucines’ Crypt, where Austrian emperors and their families used to be buried till the beginning of last century.” Louis continued, “It is a remarkably gloomy place, made of several underground rooms full of coffins and funeral monuments, all immersed in an eerie silence. I do not know why I made the decision to go there, maybe because I already knew the other landmarks of Vienna, but it was a good choice. It gave me the opportunity to reflect on how our relationship to death has changed over just a few centuries.”
Louis paused and looked at the commission, all of the members were looking somewhat estranged. He then quickly loaded some pictures from the Internet and projected them on the holographic display, and continued.
“Those black, iron coffins you see piled next to the walls are for the children. You can tell from their size. They date back to the Seventeenth century and if you read through the captions, you will learn that one of the first emperors of the Habsburg dynasty lost four of his babies before they reached age three. A similar fate happened to other rulers. The point I want to make here is that infant mortality was already considered a scandal at the end of the last century, and was a regular part of life, for even the elites.”
Louis looked again at the commission, to see baffled expressions turning into surprise and wonder. He let another moment pass to let them process.
“I think you are getting my point. Telomerax might not be the accidental gift or curse devised by a single mind and perfected by technocrats, tycoons, and the occasional gangsters, but it could simply be the natural next step in the history of mankind, a history that you can also read as an endless rebellion to our mortal fate. It’s high time you stop looking at me either as a savior or a scapegoat, and start doing some serious research on yourself first.”
Louis stood up, without waiting for the chairman to call the hearing off. He shook hands with all the members, making sure the last one he greet
ed was Dinesh Kheradpir, who was beaming with pride, and left the room. The bodyguards were waiting outside the door, and looked surprised when Louis came out of the room. The escort leader looked at the Chinese chairman, who nodded. He then moved his eyes back to Louis.
“You see, Herr Lansky,” Louis politely said, “we can go back to the airport now. My convertiplane is waiting to take me to my home in Sicily.”
Chapter 3
Helena was leaning on the terrace of the rooftop bar of the old Hilton hotel in Athens. It had been completely renovated after the war, and from the bar it was always possible to see the Acropolis, that the new Greek government was about to complete rebuilding to be exactly as it was at the times of Pericles, in 500 B.C.
She was thinking about the twists of history, when she heard the soft opening of the elevator doors. It was easy to detect any noise, since she had reserved the whole floor for her meeting. Yaakov walked out of the elevator, looked around, and started moving toward the table where Helena was sitting. He did not spot any bodyguards, but he had not even walked a few yards into the bar lounge, when the drone-sensored glasses he was wearing projected several notifications on to his eyes.
“Okay,” Yaakov thought, “at least twenty devices, from communication jammers to killer flies. American and European versions, pretty obvious she would not use Israeli stuff on this occasion.”
Yaakov reached the table, and sat in front of Helena. Tea and drinks were already served on the table.
“I know you are clean, Yaakov,” Helena smiled at him, “but I have to take my precautions. I always need my aura of micro-robotic guardian angels to protect me.”
She paused for a while, her face turning serious.
“In hindsight, you donated a big contribution to getting these devices started, didn’t you?”
“We did,” Yaakov conceded, “and we were soon overtaken by many imitators. We are not here to discuss the history of the nano-weapons, though.”
“No, we are not,” Helena continued briskly and then paused again. “You know what, Yaakov? This is the third time I am staying in this hotel in Athens, and I always play the mediator role. I was here for the first time in 2010, as envoy of my bank to the International Monetary Fund, during the first Greek debt crisis. There were no gleaming skyscrapers across the street like now, just a rather worn-down hospital. Then, I was back just after the war, in 2057, as envoy of the United States government. I was there for the talks that formalized the birth of the Euro-Russian Federation and the end of NATO. By that time, the hospital had been razed, and the construction frenzy had begun, fueled by the massive immigration from the inner parts of the Continent to the Mediterranean shores. Finally, here we are. Today, I am doing a favor for Irina. I hope I can help you both reach a deal.”
“Well, at least it’s way cozier than the place we negotiated at last time, somewhere in the Chicago suburbs,” Yaakov grinned back, “Even though I am afraid the distances are greater now. You know, the Jewish Republic of Cyprus, or the JRC as it is called now, we just cannot accept that Israel is being reduced to a tiny strip between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. That is our land. We might talk about the West Bank, or a special status for some parts of Jerusalem. Otherwise, we will keep supporting the struggle of the Remnants against the Arabian Union.”
“That’s how you see yourself now, Yaakov?” Helena asked, “A remnant? Someone left behind?”
“I am a remnant, Helena. I still live in the Old City of Jerusalem. From time to time, I miss the war. It created a unique bond among all of us who survived there, Arabs and Jews, like in the movies of the alien invasions. Then, we were back to our rivalry. Imad, the guy who shared the house with me, moved back to Jericho just a few weeks after the last wave of pests were annihilated in the Jordan Valley. We just cannot give up the fight.”
Helena looked at Yaakov. A thin, white beard encircled his face, and some wrinkles on his shaved head hinted that Telomerax had frozen him in his late fifties. She wondered for an instance if he also was one of the immortals, then went back to the point.
“Listen, the message from Irina is clear. Russia has been welcoming throngs of American Jews, who have been fleeing the States in the aftermath of the Second Civil War, but Irina does not want to see a repeat of the Arab-Israeli conflict, with swapped sides on the ground, and Russia playing the role of the savior like the United States long ago. Either you find a deal with the Arabian Union, or the door to additional Jewish immigrants from the United States will be closed.”
“That is hardly acceptable,” Yaakov observed calmly, “It would mean forcing millions of Jews to stay in the North American ghettos. We cannot take them all to Cyprus or in the Tel Aviv strip, at least not now.”
“That is why she asked me to deliver the message in advance,” Helena continued. “The official meeting between Irina and Eli Mahlab, your prime minister, is in two weeks. You have time to think it over and come up with a proposal. Remember: Irina does not want to see history repeat again. She knows that the JRC has shipped a large order of micro-drones to the Tel Aviv strip. That’s why she has sent troops to Lebanon and Jordan, to help the Arab Union react to a first strike. It’s not against you, it’s to prevent an escalation and force you to take a seat at the negotiating table. She does not want another war without a clear end, like it happened in 1948, and all that followed.”
“History repeating itself again,” Yaakov laughed, “Now it is even more likely than before. Have you ever thought about it? People living much longer just means they will make the very same decisions time and again. Change will come at a steeper price.”
“I do not agree, Yaakov,” Helena interrupted him, “I lost my second husband in the war, in one of the last locust attacks that swarmed throughout Mexico. I am trying to rebuild a life for the third or fourth time now, and I’m not the same Helena of one hundred years ago, even if I may look like it.”
“I hope you’re right, Helena,” Yaakov replied, “Maybe I have been doing the same job for way too long and I am biased. You know why I made the decision to use Telomerax, a few decades back? I thought it was the only possibility for me to see the end of our struggle with the Arabs - a struggle I grew up with. We saw the shadow of the Armageddon, and yet the struggle goes on.”
Helena offered a cup of tea to Yaakov, who took the cup close to his mouth but did not sip. He instead looked at the Acropolis. She waited until Yaakov turned back to her, then she softly laid her cup of tea on the table and asked Yaakov, without taking her eyes off her cup of tea,
“Are you still haunted by what happened to Sally? She was a sayanim of the Mossad, after all. She knew she was facing risks.”
“In her case, the loss was more difficult to bear than in others,” Yaakov answered immediately, “I asked Avi Eitan several times why she was told to go to the Crown Heights’ synagogue a few hours before the attack. No one will ever admit that it was done on purpose, the official version is that it was a routine check with the Mossad’s Brooklyn station. We knew the CIA was using the Afro-American gangs as cover, we were just lucky to end up with the perfect, almost innocent victim, at the right time and in the right place.”
“Well, it’s the loss that eventually led the war to an end, or at least made the peace process easier to manage,” Helena commented. “Just like in the other case, it’s better that one dies so the nation of Israel survives. This death did not only save Israel, this death helped save the world.”
“I know this, Helena,” Yaakov said, “and it helps only up to a certain point. Maybe I am getting too old but Telomerax does not seem to help.”
“I think you just need some rest,” Helena said, “You have never quite stopped meddling with the security of your country, one way or another. The worst is over; you can now just step aside, and watch others run the show. It does not have to follow the plot we already know. It’s a new beginning you and your people can take.”
“You might be right, Helena,” Yaakov stood up and grinned. “I might
consider your suggestion to take some well-deserved rest. Either for the new beginning that Irina is seeking, or the repeat of history she is trying to avoid, I will deliver your message. I have to tell you, though, Eli does not like to be forced to an agreement, and neither do the Palestinians on the other side.”
He made a slight bow toward Helena and headed towards the elevators. Helena stared at the empty space in front of her. Some tea had spilled over from the cup that Yaakov had put down on the table.
She leaned back on the chair and thought about how the day after, she would be joining Louis and Tarek in Salina, Sicily. She also needed some well-deserved rest.
Chapter 4
The hydrofoil approached the pier of the small harbor of the island of Vulcano, Sicily. From the pilot deck, Helena immediately spotted Tarek and his family, who were waiting to board the ship.
She looked at the happy throng, then as she glanced around she noticed the surroundings. The harbor was dug, or rather sculpted, out of sulphur rock, with slim, yellow pinnacles growing out of the sea and pointing toward the sky. Even the sailor, who was handling the mooring hawser, had a hellish look; a giant, tanned figure with his face cast in a long, dark beard, and his hair modeled in long, chaotic waves by the salty winds.
For a second, she thought this place could well be the gateway to Hell, then hearing the ruckus of the Tarek’s family, who had jumped onboard, took her back to reality and in no time she found herself in front of a cheerful Tarek.
The Last Enemy - A history of the present future - 1934-2084 Page 38
