Mutation

by Robin Cook

  “And what about the two babies?” Marsha asked.

  “Can’t we talk about the major issues?” VJ demanded, pounding the table with his fist.

  “You asked what we were going to do about all this,” Marsha said. “First we have to know all the facts. What about the children?”

  VJ drummed his fingers on the surface of the card table. His patience was wearing thin. “They were getting too smart. They were beginning to realize their potential. I didn’t want the competition. A little cephaloclor in the day-care center’s milk was all it took. I’m sure it was good for most of the kids.”

  “And how did it make you feel when they died?” Marsha asked.

  “Relieved,” VJ said.

  “Not sorry or sad in any way?” Marsha persisted.

  “This isn’t a therapy session, Mother,” VJ snapped. “My feelings aren’t at issue here. You now know all the dark secrets. It’s your turn for some honesty. I need to know your intentions.”

  Marsha looked to Victor, hoping he would denounce VJ’s demonic actions, but Victor only stared blankly at VJ, too stunned for speech.

  Marsha interpreted his silence to mean acquiescence, possibly even approval. Could Victor be so caught up in VJ’s achievements that he could dismiss five murders? The murder of their own little boy? Well, she wasn’t going to take this silently. Victor be damned.

  “Well?” VJ demanded.

  Marsha turned to face him. His unblinking eyes looked at her in calm expectation. Their crystal blue color, so striking since birth, and his angelic blond hair, dissolved Marsha to tears. He was their baby, too, wasn’t he? And if he committed such horrors, was it really his fault? He was a freak of science. For whatever Victor had accomplished in terms of ensuring his brilliance, a conscience seemed to have been lost in the balance. If VJ were guilty, Victor was as culpable as he. Marsha felt a sudden wave of compassion for the boy. “VJ,” she began. “I don’t believe that Victor realized all the repercussions of his NGF experiment—”

  But VJ cut her off. “Quite the contrary,” he told her. “Victor knew precisely what he wanted to achieve. And now he can look at me and at what I’ve accomplished and know that he has been ultimately successful. I am exactly what Victor wanted and hoped for; I’m what he’d like to be himself. I am what science can be. I am the future.” VJ smiled. “You’d better get used to me.”

  “Maybe you are what Victor intended in scientific respects,” Marsha continued, undaunted. “But I don’t think he foresaw the kind of personality he was creating. VJ, what I’m trying to say is, if you did commit those murders, if you are manufacturing cocaine . . . and can’t see the moral objections to these actions, well, it’s not all your fault.”

  “Mother,” said VJ, exasperated, “you always get so sidetracked. Feelings, symptoms, personality. I reveal to you the greatest biological achievement of all time and you probably want me to take another Rorschach test. This is absurd.”

  “Science is not supreme,” Marsha said. “Morality must be brought to bear. Can’t you understand that?”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” VJ said. “And Victor proved that he holds science above morality by the act of creating me. By conventional morality’s dictates, he should not have gone through with the NGF experiment, but he did anyway. He is a hero.”

  “What Victor did in creating you was born out of unthinking arrogance. He didn’t stop to consider the possible outcome; he was so obsessed with the means and his singular goal. Science runs amok when it shakes loose from the bonds of morality and consequence.”

  VJ clucked his tongue in disagreement. Then he turned his fierce blue eyes on Marsha. “Morality cannot rule science because morality is relative and therefore variable. Science is not. Morality is based on man and his society, which changes over the years, from culture to culture. What’s taboo for some is sacred for others. Such vagaries should have no bearing here. The only thing that is immutable in this world are the laws of nature that govern the present universe. Reason is the ultimate arbiter, not moralistic whims.”

  “VJ, it’s not your fault,” Marsha said softly, sadly shaking her head. There would be no reasoning with him. “Your superior intelligence has isolated you and made you a person who is missing the human qualities of compassion, empathy, even love. You feel you have no limits. But you do. You never developed a conscience. But you can’t see it. It’s like trying to explain the concept of color to someone blind since birth.”

  VJ leaped from his chair in disgust. “With all due respect,” he said, “I don’t have time for this sophistry. I’ve got work to do. I must know your intentions.”

  “Your father and I will have a talk,” Marsha said, avoiding VJ’s gaze.

  “Go ahead, talk,” VJ said, putting his hands on his narrow hips.

  “We’ll have a talk without children present,” Marsha said.

  VJ set his mouth petulantly. His breath had quickened, his eyes were afire. Then he turned and left the room. The door slammed and clicked. VJ had locked them in.

  Marsha turned to face Victor. Victor shook his head in helpless dismay.

  “Is there any question in your mind at this point what we’re dealing with?” Marsha asked.

  Victor shook his head lamely.

  “Good,” said Marsha. “Now, what are you prepared to do about it?”

  Victor only shook his head again. “I never thought it would come to this.” He looked at his wife. “Marsha, you have to believe me. If I’d known . . .” His voice broke off. He needed Marsha’s support, her understanding. But even he had trouble comprehending the magnitude of his error. If they ever got through this, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. How could he expect Marsha to?

  Victor put his face in his hands.

  Marsha touched his shoulder. For as awful as the situation was, at least Victor had finally come to his senses. “We have to decide what to do now,” she said gently.

  Victor pulled himself up out of his chair, suddenly emboldened. “I’m the one responsible. You’re perfectly right about VJ. He wouldn’t be the way he is if it weren’t for me and my scientific meddling.” He turned again to his wife. “First, we have to get out of here.”

  Marsha looked at him gravely. “You think VJ is about to let us waltz out of here? Be reasonable! Remember how he’s handled trouble in the past? David, Janice, that poor teacher, those kids, and now his troublesome parents.”

  “You think he’ll just keep us here indefinitely?” Victor asked.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea of what his intentions are. I just don’t think it’s going to be so easy to get out. He must have some feeling for us. Otherwise he wouldn’t have even bothered explaining, and he wouldn’t be interested in our opinions or plans. But he certainly isn’t going to let us leave here until he’s convinced we’ll present no problem for him.”

  For a moment, the two were silent. Then Marsha said, “Maybe we could make some kind of bargain. Get him to let one of us go while the other stays here.”

  “So one of us becomes a hostage?”

  Marsha nodded.

  “If he’ll agree, I think you should go,” Victor told her.

  “Uh-uh,” Marsha said, shaking her head. “If it comes to that, then you go. You’ve got to figure out how to put a stop to him.”

  “I think you should go,” Victor said. “I can handle VJ better than you can at this point.”

  “I don’t think anybody can handle VJ,” said Marsha. “He’s in a world of his own, with no restraints and no conscience. But I’m confident he won’t harm me, at least not until he’s sure that I mean to cause him trouble. I do think he trusts you more than he trusts me. In that sense, you can deal with him better than I can. He seems to seek your approval. He wants to make you proud. In that respect he seems to be like any other child.”

  “But what to do?” said Victor, pacing. “I’m not sure the police would be a lot of help. The best route to go might be via the DEA. I suppose he’s the
most vulnerable with the drug stuff.”

  Marsha only nodded. Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t believe it had come to this. It was still hard to think of VJ as anything but her little boy. But there was no question: because of the nature of his genetic manipulation, he’d become a monster. There’d be no reining him in.

  “Could we get him committed to a psychiatric hospital?” Victor asked.

  “We’d be hard put to commit him without psychotic behavior, which he hasn’t demonstrated, or without getting him acquitted of murder by reason of insanity. But I doubt we could even get him indicted. I’m sure he was careful not to leave any evidence, especially with such a high-tech crime. He has a personality disorder, but he’s not crazy. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that. I only wish I could say what.”

  “I’ll think of something,” Victor assured her. He smoothed out his coat and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to comb it. Taking a deep breath, he tried the door. It was locked. He banged on it with his fist four times.

  After some delay the lock clicked and the door swung open. VJ appeared in the doorway with several of the South Americans backing him.

  “I’m ready to talk,” Victor said.

  VJ looked from Victor to Marsha. She looked away to avoid his cold stare.

  “Alone,” Victor added.

  VJ nodded and stepped aside while Victor crossed into the main living quarters. Victor walked directly out into the main lab as he heard VJ locking Marsha in. It was clear that he and Marsha really were prisoners, held by their own son.

  “She’s really upset,” Victor said. “Killing David. That was inexcusable.”

  “I didn’t have any choice,” VJ said.

  “A mother has a hard time dealing with that,” Victor said. VJ’s eyes didn’t blink.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have told Marsha about the lab,” said VJ. “She doesn’t have the same regard for science as we do.”

  “You’re right about that,” Victor said. “She was appalled at the artificial wombs. I was astounded by them. I know what an achievement they represent scientifically. The impact they’ll have on the scientific community will be stupendous. And their commercial potential is enormous.”

  “I’m counting on the commercial profits to enable me to dump the cocaine connection,” VJ said.

  “That’s a good idea. You’re putting your work in serious jeopardy dabbling in the drug business.”

  “I took that into consideration some time ago,” VJ said. “I have several contingency plans if trouble starts.”

  “I bet you do.”

  VJ eyed Victor closely. “I think you’d better tell me what your intentions are about my lab and my work.”

  “My main goal is to deal with Marsha,” Victor said. “But I think she’ll come around, once the shock of everything wears off.”

  “How do you plan to deal with her?”

  “I’ll convince her of the importance of your work and your discoveries,” Victor said. “She’ll feel differently once she understands that you’ve done more than any other person in the history of biology, and you are only ten years old.”

  VJ seemed to swell with pride. Marsha had been right: like any other kid, he sought his father’s praise. If only he really could be like any other kid, Victor thought ruefully. But he never will be, thanks to me.

  Victor continued. “As soon as possible, I’d like to see a list of the protein growth factors that are involved with the artificial womb.”

  “There are over five hundred of them,” VJ said. “I can give you a print-out, but of course it won’t be for publication.”

  “I understand,” Victor said. He glanced down at his son and smiled. “Well, I have to get back to work and I’m sure Marsha has patients to see. So I think we’ll be leaving. We’ll see you at home.”

  VJ shook his head. “I think it is too soon for you to leave. I think it will be better if you plan to stay for a few days. I have a phone hookup so you can do your business by phone. Mom will have to reschedule her patients. You’ll find it quite comfortable here.”

  Victor laughed a hollow laugh at this suggestion. “But you’re joking, of course. We can’t stay here. Marsha may be able to reschedule her patients, but Chimera can’t be put on hold. I have a lot of work to do. Besides, everyone knows I’m on the grounds. Sooner or later they’d start searching for me.”

  VJ considered the situation. “Okay,” he said at last. “You can go. But Mom will have to stay here.”

  Victor was impressed that Marsha had been able to anticipate him so correctly. “I’d be with her every minute,” Victor said, still trying to get them both out.

  “One or the other,” VJ said. “It’s not up for discussion.”

  “All right, if you insist,” said Victor. “I’ll tell Marsha. Be right back.”

  Victor made his way back to the door to VJ’s living quarters. One of the guards had to come and open it with a key. Victor went over to Marsha and whispered, “He’s agreed to let one of us out. Are you sure you don’t want to be the one to go?”

  Marsha shook her head no. “Please just contact Jean and tell her I won’t be available until further notice. Tell her to refer emergencies to Dr. Maddox.”

  Victor nodded. He kissed Marsha on the cheek, grateful she didn’t recoil. Then he turned to go.

  Back in the main lab room VJ was giving instructions to two of the guards.

  “This is Jorge,” VJ said, introducing Victor to a smiling South American. He was the same man who’d earlier tried to knife Victor. Apparently there were no hard feelings on his side, because along with the smile, he stuck out his hand for Victor to shake.

  “Jorge has offered to accompany you,” VJ said.

  “I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Victor said, suppressing his anger.

  With a grim smile, VJ said, “I don’t think you understand. It’s not your choice. Jorge is to stay with you to remind you not to be tempted to talk with anyone who might give me trouble. He will also remind you that Marsha is here with one of Jorge’s friends.” VJ let the threat hang unspoken.

  “But I don’t need a guard. And how will I explain him? Really, VJ, I didn’t expect this of you.”

  “I have perfect confidence that you will think of a way to explain him,” VJ said. “Jorge will make us all sleep just a little better. And let me warn you: trouble with the police or other authorities would only be a bother and slow the program, not stop it. Don’t disappoint me, Father. Together we will revolutionize the biotechnology industry.”

  Victor swallowed with difficulty. His mouth had gone dry.

  15

  Monday Afternoon

  THE day had turned cloudy and blustery by the time Victor emerged from the clock tower building and set off for his office. A few steps behind him was Jorge, who’d made a show of displaying the knife he kept hidden in his right boot. But the gesture had had the desired effect. Victor knew that he was in the presence of a man accustomed to killing.

  Despite telling Marsha he’d think of something, Victor had no idea what to do. He was in a dazed frenzy by the time he reached his office. He traversed the pool of secretaries unsteadily, with Jorge one step behind him.

  “Excuse me!” Colleen said as Victor cruised by her desk. She jumped up, snatching a pile of messages. Victor had reached the door to his office. He turned to the South American. “You’ll have to wait out here,” he said.

  Jorge brushed past Victor as if Victor had not said anything. Colleen, who had witnessed the exchange, was appalled, especially since the South American was wearing a Chimera security uniform. “Should I call security?” she whispered to Victor.

  Victor said it wouldn’t be necessary. Colleen shrugged and got down to business. “I have a lot of messages,” she said. “I’ve been trying to call you. I need—”

  Victor placed his hand on her arm and eased her back so he could swing the door shut. “Later,” he told her.

  “But—�
�� Colleen intoned as the door was shut in her face.

  Victor locked the door as an added precaution. Jorge had already made himself comfortable on the couch in the rear of the room. The man was casually attending to his fingernails.

  Victor went behind his desk and sat down. The phone rang immediately but he didn’t answer. He knew it was Colleen. He looked over at Jorge, who waved with his nail clipper and smiled a toothy grin.

  Victor let his head sink into his hands. What he needed was a plan. Jorge was an unwanted distraction. The man exuded a reckless, haughty confidence that said, “I’m a killer and I’m sitting in your office and you can’t do a thing about it.” It was difficult for Victor to concentrate with Jorge watching over him.

  “You don’t look like you’re doing much work to me,” Jorge said suddenly. “VJ said that you needed to leave because you had a lot of work to do. I suggest you get busy unless you want me to call VJ and tell him that you are just sitting around holding your head.”

  “I was just gathering my thoughts,” Victor said. He leaned over and pressed his intercom. When Colleen responded, he said, “Bring in my messages and let’s get to work.”

  For the first hour, Marsha occupied herself by looking through some of the hundreds of periodicals in the bookcase. But they were over her head; all were highly technical, devoted to theories and experiments on the cutting edge of biology, physics, and chemistry. She got up and paced the room and even tried the door, but, as expected, it was locked.

  She sat down at the table again, wondering what course of action Victor would take. He would have to be very resourceful. VJ was an exceptional adversary. He’d also have to have an enormous amount of moral courage, and in light of his NGF experiments, she had no idea if he had it in him.

  Just then the bolt of the lock was thrown and VJ stepped in. “I thought maybe you could use a little company,” he said cheerfully. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He stepped aside and Mary Millman walked in smiling, her hand outstretched.