dried blood. When the man was regenerated and the Shroud was pulled away from his body, a small amount of dermal material was pulled away with it. The same thing can happen when bandages are removed from a large wound. I suspect the weight of the heel resting on the cloth helped some, too. What you have just seen are cells at least six hundred years old with absolutely no sign of degeneration. In short: they're alive.'
'Six hundred years?' Decker asked.
'Well, if the carbon 14 dating is correct, yes. On the other hand, I think it is rather unlikely that anyone would have been crucified in the thirteenth or fourteenth century. I have no real evidence to dispute the carbon 14 results but my guess is that, in all likelihood, the Shroud does date to the first century and was, in fact, the burial cloth of Jesus. The historical evidence is rather conclusive that Jesus did exist. I've never doubted that any more than I've doubted the historical evidence of Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar. Actually, it all fits perfectly into my hypothesis.'
'Professor, why weren't the blood cells alive?' Decker asked.
'That's an interesting question. I assume it's because the blood is from the body that died. The skin cells, on the other hand, are from the body after it was regenerated.'
Goodman put his hand on Decker's shoulder and gently nudged him in the direction of the door. 'I don't know about you, but I'm starved and my housekeeper was expecting us half an hour ago for lunch. My wife is visiting her mother in Kansas City.'
Goodman's house was an English Tudor with brown trim and stone on a quiet dead-end street about twenty minutes from the campus. The two men were greeted at the door by Goodman's housekeeper, a young Hispanic woman. 'Maria, this is my guest, Mr. Hawthorne.' Goodman spoke very slowly, enunciating every word. 'We'll have our lunch now.'
As Decker looked around the house it seemed that every wall had shelves full of books. A few shelves had additional books neatly stacked beside them. Decker had never met Goodman's wife, Martha, but she was obviously very tolerant of her husband's profession.
'Professor, we need to talk,' Decker said as they sat down at the dining room table.
'Yes, I know,' Goodman answered.
Decker's eyes glanced to the housekeeper and then back to Goodman.
'Oh, don't worry about her,' Goodman said. 'She hardly speaks any English. She's only been in this country about six months.'
'We can't keep this to ourselves,' Decker started.
'I have no intention of keeping it secret forever, but if we let the story out now there will be no end to the reporters. Not to mention the thousands of mindless religious kooks. You remember the crowds in Turin lined up to see the Shroud? What do you think would happen if word leaked out that live cells from the body of Jesus were in a laboratory in Los Angeles? Every sick or dying person in America would be here overnight hoping to touch the cells and be healed. I've touched the cells and they haven't done a thing for me. You may have touched them yourself, when you were handling the Shroud in Turin and I notice it hasn't stopped your hairline from receding,' Goodman added in characteristic deadpan humor. 'All that would result from releasing the story now is that a lot of people would be hurt. But if we wait until I've finished my research we may be able to offer some real healing power.'
'What do you mean, 'real healing power'?'
'Decker, are you blind? You saw those cells. What do you think we've been talking about?'
'I'm not sure I know anymore.'
'Those cells are hundreds or even thousands of years old. They have survived through intense heat and freezing cold. As far as we can tell, they're immortal. Yet, in most respects they're human. With time we may be able to discover what makes them immortal. We may discover things that can lead to new vaccines, create powerful new life-saving drugs, extend life, perhaps even bring about our own immortality!'
Decker raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'I hadn't even considered anything like that,' he said.
'Actually, I'm already deeply involved in research on the cells. I began by inducing cell mitosis in the laboratory. The cells are extremely resilient and multiply rapidly. I've been able to grow a substantial culture. However, there is another area of research worthy of pursuit as well.' Goodman paused to consider his words. 'Decker, what do you know about cloning?'
It took Decker only an instant to guess what Goodman was getting at. Decker was not a religious person but this idea rubbed him entirely the wrong way. 'Hold it! You don't mean… You're talking about cloning Jesus?!' Decker's response was quite loud and the outburst startled Maria, who dropped a plate in the kitchen.
Goodman had not anticipated Decker's opposition. 'Just wait a minute!' he replied at a slightly lower and more controlled decibel. 'To begin with, we can't be certain that these are the cells of Jesus… '
'Well, it sure as hell is a pretty good guess!' Decker shot back.
'But even if they are,' Goodman continued, 'I still find my hypothesis about his origin more reasonable than any silly religious notions you may have.'
Then Decker put it all together. 'That's what you were talking about before! That's how you plan to test your hypothesis, that Jesus was from an advanced alien race! You're going to try to clone him!' 'Look, Decker, there's no need for a shouting match. And anyway,' Goodman continued, 'you're jumping to ridiculous conclusions based on insufficient data. All I meant was that you might, someday be able to test my hypothesis of the man's origin in that manner.' Goodman's clarification wasn't very convincing.
'Look, Professor,' Decker said, 'it's one thing to do lab research or grow cells in a petri dish, but you just can't go around cloning people, especially if the guy you want to clone might just be the son of God!'
'Decker, use your brain. If the image on the Shroud was from the son of God, then tell me this: Why would an all-knowing, all-wise, all-powerful creator allow the cells to get stuck to the Shroud in the first place?'
'Who knows? Maybe as a sign or something.'
'And why would he allow me, a man who doesn't even believe in him, to find the cells? If it was some kind of sign, wouldn't God at least have chosen someone who believed in him?'
Decker didn't have an answer.
'But more importantly,' continued Goodman, 'even if you examine it from a religious point of view, you must ask how could a mere mortal manage to clone the son of God? Would the 'soul' of Jesus be in the clone?' Goodman struggled to hide the sarcasm in his voice. 'Would God really allow himself to be so easily manipulated by men?'
Decker listened. As uncomfortable as it made him feel, what Goodman was saying made sense.
'Decker, I really expected you to be more open-minded about this. Where's your scientific curiosity? Surely you can see that if I did manage to clone the man on the Shroud it would be proof positive that he was not the son of God. If, I repeat, if it was possible to clone the man, we still might never know his origin because he would not have the memory of the original. But we'd know one thing without a doubt, and it's that he was not the son of God, because if he was, I think you'll agree, it's a pretty safe assumption that 'God' wouldn't allow us to clone his son.'
Decker couldn't argue with Goodman's logic. An all-knowing, all-powerful God was not likely to just leave a bunch of his son's cells lying around. Although Decker didn't argue, it was obvious that as far as Goodman was concerned, the discussion was over.
During their conversation the two men had taken only a few bites of their dinners. Goodman now focused his attention on the plate before him. Decker felt it wise to do the same. After the meal the conversation grew a little more amiable but Goodman was clearly angered and avoided the subject of the Shroud entirely, except to say that he would call Decker when the next step in his research on the cells was under way.
When they left for the airport, Maria cleared the dishes and silver, stretching across the large table to reach Professor Goodman's saucer and cup. As she carried them back to the kitchen she tugged lightly at her apron and adjusted her maternity dress.
Chapter 5
