'Okay, so then what?' Decker had understood most of Goodman's explanation but failed to comprehend the significance.
'Don't you see? The AIDS virus is able to alter the genetic structure of living cells and it does it inside the body!'
Suddenly Decker realized what Goodman was getting at. 'You mean you could remove the harmful genetic material from the nucleus of the AIDS virus… '
'… and replace it with the specific immunity-providing DNA strands from the C-cells,' Goodman said, finishing Decker's sentence. 'Except, of course, viral cells do not have a nucleus, they have simply a core.' Goodman – ever the professor – could not allow such an error, no matter how insignificant to the main topic, to pass uncorrected. 'That way it's not necessary to alter each individual cell of the body. We can accomplish nearly the same result by just altering the T-cells!'
'And that result is… ' Decker urged.
'Total immunity! Maybe even reversing the aging process! Life expectancies of two, three, four hundred years, maybe more!' Goodman's voice had grown as excited as he dared risk without sacrificing the appearance of appropriate scientific aloofness.
'So when can you begin to move beyond theory on this?'
'I already have,' Goodman answered. 'I began working on it two and a half years ago. For the first six months I focused my efforts on a cold virus. I felt that the dangers involved in using an AIDS virus were too great, and I must concede that the problems I encountered with my previous AIDS research soured me on having anymore to do with it.'
'Does the cold virus work like the AIDS virus?' Decker asked.
'Similarly, but the AIDS virus is actually a retro- or reverse-virus because of the existence of the reverse- transcriptase enzyme which converts the RNA strand into a DNA strand. There are a number of other differences as well, but for the early studies the differences didn't really matter. All I needed was a carrier, some means of bringing the desired genetic information to the individual T-cells of the immune system. I got as far as the creation of an extremely resilient second-generation test strain. Of course at that time I was still experimenting to isolate the specific DNA strands in the C-cells that were needed for transplant into the carrier virus.
'Then two years ago my lab was vandalized. They destroyed thousands of dollars' worth of equipment and ruined my research. Fortunately, a lot of the expensive equipment was locked up or on loan at the time.'
'So what happened to that test strain?' Decker asked with a hint of concern.
'That's what I'm saying. They smashed everything and threw it around the lab.'
'Wait a minute,' Decker interrupted, 'You mean they released the altered cold virus?'
'Yes, but… ' Goodman saw the look of concern on Decker's face. 'I assure you, no one was in any danger from the cold virus. You couldn't even have gotten a cold from it.'
'Are you certain?'
'Decker, it's been two years. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened by now. So, let me get back to my story. After the vandals destroyed my lab, I had to go back and reorganize all my notes. As I did, it became more and more clear to me that the AIDS virus was really the best medium to use as the carrier. Actually, those vandals probably saved me months of unproductive research.
'Think of it, Decker. Fifteen years ago it looked like AIDS could be on its way to being as bad as the Black Plague; and by some time in the next decade it may, combined with the C-cells, be the source of virtual immortality!'
By the time Decker and Goodman finished their conversation, Elizabeth, Mrs. Goodman, Hope and Louisa had returned from their walk and retreated to the patio for iced tea. They had talked long enough to find that they liked each other's company. After the Goodmans left, Elizabeth told Decker how much she enjoyed talking with Martha and that Martha had suggested that she come along with Decker next time he went to Los Angeles.
'Well,' said Decker, pleased that his wife was pleased, 'I'm glad you two hit it off. She really is a nice person. And as far as you coming along, I'd like that too. So what did you two talk about?' he asked.
'Well, mostly we talked about you and how wonderful it is to have you back. But, let's see… We talked about Professor Goodman. Did you know he's been notified that in December he's going to receive the Nobel Prize for medicine for his cancer research?'
'You're kidding!' Decker said. 'He didn't even mention it.'
'That's why they were here in Washington. He was invited to address the annual convention of the American Cancer Society.'
'I can see I've got a lot of catching up to do,' Decker said. 'So what else did you talk about?'
'Well, she told me all about her grandnephew, Christopher. She's very proud of him. He's apparently a very precocious child. Oh, and this is kind of interesting: Martha said that two weeks ago she and Professor Goodman were talking about you. He had this important story – I guess what he came over to tell you about today – and apparently he was reluctant to give it to another reporter even though, at the time, you were still being held hostage. But – and this is the strange part – as they were talking about it, her grandnephew, Christopher, came over and just sort of matter-of-factly said that Professor Goodman should wait because you'd be free soon. She said she asked him about it later and he said he wasn't sure how he knew; he just had a feeling.'
Chapter 10
Disaster
A light rain began to fall and Decker found himself running, awkwardly making his way through the tall grass and trying to avoid the thistles and wild blackberry bushes. Home and safety from the impending storm were just over the next hill. In his determination he was totally unaware of the strange feeling of being in a small body not yet eight years old.
The storm clouds had gathered quickly and for a while it seemed they might disappear the same way. But as the rain began to fall, the promise of a cloudburst of Noahic proportions seemed to declare itself with the first sudden clap of distant thunder.
As he ran, Decker's nerves twinged with the fear of the somehow inevitable turn of events which he knew was about to befall him. It seemed… it seemed he had done this all before. There was something in his path; something to fear. But what? Then suddenly the earth disappeared from beneath his feet.
Decker's hands flew up above his head as he grabbed at the moist thick air, trying desperately, instinctively, to slow his descent. Suddenly he felt the earth again as his stomach and chest slammed into a wall of dirt and slipped along a rough incline that threatened to swallow him. The blow had knocked the wind out of him, but before he could catch his breath, a sudden sharp pain surged through him as dozens of odd-shaped protrusions scraped against his body, tearing his shirt and pulling it up over his head as he slid down the incline. His hands, still grasping, caught a tangled mass of small fibers which quickly slipped away but were replaced by one more solid and firm. In shock he hung there, motionless.
Moments passed and Decker began to carefully pull himself upward, hoping that his hold would not fail under the strain. Raising himself a few inches, he worked his shirt back down over his head and shoulders. Now able to survey his condition, he found that he was holding onto a tree root about an inch in diameter. Near tears, he slowly turned his head and looked down. In horror he realized his imagination had not exaggerated the danger. Below him the hole continued for about thirty feet and then narrowed and veered off.
He closed his eyes and thought of the previous summer when he had first heard of such holes. He and his cousin Bobby had been riding two of his uncle's mules in the field north of the milk barn. Bobby brought him to a spot in the field where an old hay wagon had been left sitting long enough for the grass and the purple-flowered thistles to grow up around it. Bobby, who had been riding bareback, lifted his leg and slid off the side of the mule.
'C'mon,' he said as he tied the twine of the mule's homemade reins through a rusted iron eye on the wagon. There was a sense of adventure in his voice and Decker was quick to follow.
'Be careful, now,' Bobby cautioned as he began to inch his way slowly toward the edge of a hole in the
