“I think I see where you’re going,” Trent said. “So you bring the three strongest embryos per donation back here for research?”
“No, because that would be wasting valuable resources. What we do is take all of the strongest embryos from each batch—usually about seven—and use those, even though the records for the DEP say we only used three. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if the DEP didn’t send inspectors to physically count our stock of leftovers every month. But because of that, we have to make it seem like every embryo is there. If even one is missing, we’ll rack up a huge fine and bureaucratic hell. So these guys clone the few embryos that we need to make up the difference for each batch, and I take them back to the clinic in that black case and put them in the freezer in time for the next inspection. There’s no way the inspectors can tell the difference between an original and a cloned embryo on sight, so the clinic has passed every inspection perfectly. I still get nervous each time, but I think we’ve got it down.”
Trent nodded as snatches of an early exchange with Dopp came back to him, from the day they first decided to tackle the case:
“Are you suggesting she could be cloning and replacing the embryos?”
“The technology is still out there. But the logistics would be very difficult for her. She’d need scientists, tools, a lab space, money. It would be a major conspiracy. But we’ve seen it before, years ago.…”
Trent recalled later asking Dopp if they could test the DNA of a whole stock of embryos to find out if there were clones. But Dopp had explained that such a process would require a prohibitively costly contract with scientists and a lab to test hundreds of embryos—and even if they did find genetic matches, how could it be determined whether they were man-made clones or merely identical twins? It was an impossible hurdle that Arianna must have understood in advance.
“Impressive,” Trent said. “It seems very well thought out.”
“Thank you. We all worked it out together.” Arianna smiled at Sam, who looked away. The three men stood by like white-coated sentries, noting Trent’s every move.
Arianna sighed. “So that’s how it’s done.”
Trent tugged at the strap on his watch. “But if you know how to clone embryos, then why couldn’t you just keep cloning the same embryo over and over for research purposes instead of using a bunch of donated ones?”
“It’s possible in theory,” Arianna replied. “But not in practice. If you clone an embryo, it increases the chance of tainting the cells, which could skew your experiments. It’s the same problem with thawing frozen embryos. We also want a wide gene supply to ensure that the techniques will work the same way on every cell. So we need a constant supply of fresh new embryos.”
One of the scientists cleared his throat. “Some of which are going to waste right now.”
“Of course,” Arianna said. “We’ll get out of your way. Let me just show him the rats.”
She dropped her cane to the floor and grabbed Trent’s arm. They walked to the cages in the corner, while Ian and Patrick grudgingly returned to their microscopes. Trent glanced over his shoulder, feeling the tingly wrath of a stare; sure enough, Sam stood by the door with crossed arms, watching him. Trent whipped his head back to Arianna, who was pressing her fingers into his biceps.
“I know you might have been skeptical about stem cells,” she said quietly. “But this is the proof I wanted you to see in person, to show you I have a chance. See those rats that are barely moving? They have a similar disease to multiple sclerosis in humans, but for them it’s called EAE—experimental autoimmune encephalomyelitis. But see those other rats running around like crazy? They had the disease, too, but my guys injected their spinal cords with stem cells, which restored their ability to move.”
“Wow,” Trent said, genuinely taken aback. “That seems like magic. How does it work?”
She beamed. “Let me try to explain. You have many different specialized cells in your body—for example: heart cells, bone cells, nerve cells, which all develop out of stem cells. Around your nerve cells, there’s a dense membrane called myelin that transmits impulses to the cells, allowing movement. The thicker the myelin, the faster the impulses are conducted. But in multiple sclerosis, this myelin degenerates over time, so eventually you’re paralyzed. That’s why I’m walking so stiffly now, and will need a wheelchair soon. But if the scientists can trick stem cells to grow into myelin-producing cells, and inject those into my spinal cord, then theoretically they will replenish my lost myelin, restore my cells’ ability to move, and save my life—just like these lucky rats.”
“That’s brilliant! So if they can do it with the rats, why can’t they do it with you?”
“It’s harder for humans because we have different genes. What Sam and the others are working on is trying to activate the right genes in human stem cells to trick them into becoming myelin-producing cells, which are called oligodendrocytes. But in order to activate the right genes, the guys have to use an exact—and so far unknown—combination of molecules to inject into the stem cells. This combination is the holy grail of the research, and the key to my life. Once—if—they figure this out, we’ll be able to inject the right cells into my spinal cord, and hopefully, my myelin will grow back. It’s just a matter of time, and lots of trial and error, but they’re getting closer every day.”
“So this is for real,” Trent whispered. “This could really save your life.”
“Yes.”
Hope burst like a tonic within him, overpowering his anguish. He stared down into her blue eyes and saw the intensity
