moment.” He caught Carson’s grimace. “Yes, I know. Terrible doings. Did you know him well?”
“After I arrived here, we became fairly good friends.”
“What was he like?”
“He was from Connecticut. Very preppie, but I liked him. Underneath that serious exterior he had a wicked sense of humor.”
“Did you notice anything unusual prior to the incident in the dining room? Any strange behavior? Personality changes?”
Carson shrugged. “This last week, he seemed preoccupied, withdrawn. You’d speak to him and he wouldn’t answer. I didn’t think much about it, really, because we were all in shock after what happened. Besides, people often act a little strange around this place. The level of tension is unbelievable. Everyone calls it Mount Dragon fever. Like cabin fever, only worse.”
Teece chuckled. “I’m feeling a bit of that myself.”
“After what happened, Andrew was publicly reprimanded by Brent. I think he took it pretty hard.”
Teece nodded. “If thy right eye offends thee,” he murmured. “According to the tapes I watched, Scopes quoted that to Vanderwagon during his dressing-down in the conference room. Still, poking one’s eye out is a rather extreme reaction to stress, in my book. What did Cornwall say in
Carson was silent.
“Do you know anything about Vanderwagon’s past history at GeneDyne?” Teece asked.
“I know he was brilliant, very highly thought of. This was his second tour here. University of Chicago grad. But you must know all this.”
“Did he speak to you about any troubles? Any worries?”
“None. Except the usual complaints about the isolation. He was a great skier, and there obviously isn’t any skiing around here, so he used to complain about that. He was pretty liberal, and he and Harper used to argue politics a lot.”
“Did he have a girlfriend?”
Carson thought a moment. “He did mention someone. Lucy, I think. She lives in Vermont.” He shifted in the chair. “Look, where have they taken him, anyway? Have you learned anything yet?”
“He’s undergoing tests. So far, we know very little. It’s very difficult here, with no open phones to the outside. But already there are some perplexing developments, which I’d ask you to keep to yourself for the time being.”
Carson nodded.
“Preliminary tests show Vanderwagon suffering from unusual medical problems: overly permeable capillaries and elevated levels of dopamine and serotonin in the brain.”
“Permeable capillaries?”
“Leaky blood vessels. Somehow, a small percentage of his blood cells have disintegrated, releasing hemoglobin. This hemoglobin has leaked out of his capillaries and into various parts of his body. Naked hemoglobin, as you may know, is poisonous to human tissues.”
“Did that contribute to his breakdown?”
“It’s too early to say,” Teece replied. “The elevated levels of dopamine, however, are very significant. What do you know about dopamine? Serotonin?”
“Not much. They’re neurotransmitters.”
“Correct. At normal levels, there’s no problem. However, too much of either in the brain would dramatically affect human behavior. Paranoid schizophrenics have elevated levels of dopamine. LSD trips are caused by a temporary increase in the same neurotransmitter.”
“What are you saying?” Carson asked. “That Andrew has elevated levels of these neurotransmitters in his brain because he’s crazy?”
“Perhaps,” Teece replied. “Or vice versa. But there really isn’t any point in speculating until we know more. Let’s move on to my original purpose here, and talk about this X-FLU strain you’re working on. Perhaps you can tell me how, while you thought you were neutralizing the virus, you instead managed to make it more deadly.”
“God, if I could answer that question ...” Carson paused. “We don’t really understand yet how X-FLU does its dirty work. When you recombine genes, you never really know what will happen. Suites of genes work together in complicated ways, and removing one or putting a new one into the mix often causes unexpected effects. In some ways, it’s like an incredibly complex computer program that nobody fully understands. You never know what might happen if you plug in strange data or change a line of code. Nothing might happen. Or it might work better. Or the whole program might crash.” He had the vague realization that he was being more frank with this OSHA investigator than Brent Scopes might like. But Teece was sharp; there was no point dissembling.
“Why not use a less dangerous virus as a vehicle for the X-FLU gene?” asked Teece.
“That’s difficult to explain. You must know that the body is composed of two types of cells: somatic cells and germ cells. In order for X-FLU to be a permanent cure—one that would be passed on to descendants—we have to insert the DNA into germ-line cells. Somatic cells won’t do. The X-FLU host virus is uniquely capable of infecting human germ cells.”
“What about the ethics of altering germ cells? Of introducing new genes into the human species? Has there been any discussion of that at Mount Dragon?”
Carson wondered why this subject kept coming up. “Look,” he said, “we’re making the tiniest change imaginable: inserting a gene only a few hundred base pairs long. It will make human beings immune to the flu. There’s nothing immoral in that.”
“But didn’t you just say that making a small change in one gene can have unexpected results?”
Carson stood up impatiently. “Of course! But that’s what phased testing is all about—looking for unexpected side effects. This gene therapy will have to go through a whole gamut of expensive tests, costing GeneDyne millions of dollars.”
“Testing on human beings?”
“Of course. You start with in vitro and animal tests. In the alpha phase you use a small group of human volunteers. The beta phase is larger. The tests will be done using an out-group monitored by GeneDyne. Everything is done with excruciating care. You know all this as well as I do.”
Teece nodded. “Forgive me for dwelling on the subject, Dr. Carson. But if there are ‘unexpected side effects,’ wouldn’t you be perpetuating these side effects in the human race if you introduce the X-FLU gene into the germ cells of even a few people? Creating, perhaps, a new genetic disease? Or a race of people different from the rest of humanity? Remember, it took just a single mutation in one person—
“GeneDyne would never have spent almost half a billion dollars without working out the details,” Carson snapped, uncertain why he was feeling so defensive. “You’re not dealing with a start-up company here.” He walked around the side of his worktable to face the investigator. “My job is to neutralize the virus. And believe me, that’s more than enough. What they do with it once it’s neutralized is not my concern. There are suffocating government regulations covering every inch of this problem. You, of all people, should know that. You probably wrote half the damn regulations yourself.”
Three tones chimed in his headset. “We’ve got to leave,” Carson said. “They’re doing an early decontamination sweep tonight.”
“Right,” Teece replied. “Would you mind leading the way? I’m afraid I’d be lost within fifty feet.”
* * *
Outside, Carson stood silently for a moment, shutting his eyes and letting the warm evening wind blow over him. He could almost feel the accumulated tension and dread dissipating on the desert breeze. He blinked his eyes open, noticed the unusual color of the sunset, and frowned. Then he turned to Teece.
“Sorry if I was a bit brusque back there,” he said. “That place wears on me, especially by the end of the day.”
“Perfectly understandable.” The investigator stretched, scratched his peeling nose, and glanced around at the white buildings, thrown into dramatic relief by the sunset. “It’s not so bad here, once that bloody great sun goes down.” He looked at his watch. “We’d better hurry if we’re going to catch dinner.”
