“On occasion,” Clay repeated curiously.
“Yes, in a small percentage of cases.”
“I sense a surprise coming.”
Lawton nodded. “You’re right.” She reached down and picked up the same pink colored petri dish again. “This is the surprise!”
“Oh, wow,” Borger mumbled.
Clay wasn’t following. “Will?”
Borger looked at Lawton then back to Clay. “It’s a numbers game, John.”
“A numbers game?”
“I think what Commander Lawton is saying is that given the normal speed at which bacteria replicates, their numbers still aren’t enough to matter against our trillions of other cells.” Borger motioned at the pink petri dish still in her hand. “But with a much faster replication rate, it could be a problem.”
“Exactly,” Lawton said. “Over time, with a faster replication and the bacteria cells no longer dying a timely death, they could theoretically go on to grow indefinitely. Which means, given enough time, even a DNA jump that only occasionally happens could still eventually infect every single cell in our bodies. In fact, it wouldn’t even need to get to every cell. It would only need to change a large enough number for the body to physiologically react to it. Or to absorb it.”
Clay eyed her curiously. “And how long would that take?”
“I’m not sure,” she shrugged. “Without the cells dying and given the compounding effect of accelerated replication, probably less than a year. But the point is that getting that plant’s DNA into human cells may be a lot easier to do than we thought. Especially if you were to use a friendlier strain of bacteria, like Bacillus Coagulans.”
“Given enough time,” said Clay.
“Exactly.”
“Damn,” Caesare folded his arms. “A guy can miss a lot in twenty-four hours.”
Lawton winked at him and shrugged. “Just the biggest biological find in history.”
Clay looked at Krogstad. “This is huge.” He then remembered something and asked Lawton, “So this is the problem you were talking about?”
“Not entirely,” she said.
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that if we know what these ‘plants’ of theirs can really do, then the Chinese must know it too.”
Alison shook her head. “I’m confused. Are the Chinese the only ones who have this organism?”
“Yes.”
Krogstad looked grimly at Clay. “And I have a feeling they’re not in a sharing mood.”
47
DeeAnn stroked Dulce’s trembling hand through the cage bars. The small gorilla was beginning to whimper. Dexter was still cornered in his own cage, shaking. With fingers gripped around the thin metal bars, he was frantically looking back and forth between the helicopter’s windows out to the blue sky beyond.
Alves watched the primates with interest but little concern. Behind him, Blanco was watching them all.
“I hope this is worth it,” DeeAnn said, in a snide tone.
It took a moment for Alves to respond, as if deciding whether he felt like it. “I hope so too.”
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”
Alves grinned wryly. “And yet you did.”
“Because I was stupid.”
“Agreed.” Alves tilted his head. “By the way, I know about your romantic relationship with Luke Greenwood.” His tone was mocking. “A woman, still in love, coming to save her man. Very romantic.”
“Go to hell.”
He was still grinning but took a deep breath. “Hopefully not for a very long time.”
“So, I guess your plan is to just fly up into the jungle to find out what makes Dexter so old. Just like that.”
He stared at her. “Ms. Draper, do you know what the ultimate irony is?”
She didn’t respond.
“It’s being rich.”
She displayed a puzzled look but still didn’t reply.
“The greatest desire, as it turns out, is also the greatest irony of alclass="underline" to be rich. To have more money than you will ever need. The irony is that shortly after becoming rich, you realize that what you really need, what everyone needs, is time. You see, a rich person doesn’t want to die, but plenty of poor people do. Sure, there are exceptions, but there is much more suffering on the bottom than on the top. After all, when you have the means to be king, who would ever want it to end? The answer is no one.”
“So you want to live forever.”
Alves laughed. “Oh, please! Don’t be trite. It doesn’t become you. You are still a woman of considerable intelligence, mostly.” He glanced out one of the side windows. “Even pragmatists can dream, no? We just dream, realistically. No, Ms. Draper. I don’t harbor any silly fantasies about living forever, but I most certainly do pursue those things that may extend my health. And health is time. Would you believe me if I told you I was eight-three years old?”
The surprise on her face was obvious.
“I didn’t think so. You see, there are many things we can do to extend our health. Some easy, some hard. And some more than a little strange. I’ve done them all, and still do many of them today. Do you know why?”
He leaned forward when she didn’t answer. “Because one must be ready. Ready for even the briefest of opportunities. A real opportunity.”
“You mean like Dexter.”
“Yes. Like Dexter.” He looked down at the frightened monkey. “Just as in business, you must be prepared for any opportunity that presents itself, no matter how short or unorthodox. Because death can come at any moment, from a thousand different directions. A sudden heart attack, a fall,” he said, spreading his hands, “even a helicopter accident. Life is unpredictable, but opportunity favors the prepared.”
“And the rich.”
Alves smiled. “Being prepared with means, no doubt improves one’s odds.”
“Maybe you should just think about living a life that’s worth living?”
“Ah, the ethical choice,” he mused. “The golden rule, live as you want to be remembered, leave the world a better place.” He laughed again. “All sage advice, from the belly of mediocrity. No doubt you have many friends living by such a noble ethos, yes?”
She glared at him. “Luke was one.”
The humor dropped from Alves’ face. “Yes, I suppose he was. Then again, maybe he wasn’t.”
DeeAnn’s eyes narrowed, questioningly.
“Did it ever occur to you, Ms. Draper, that your precious Luke was driven by motivations that were more… human?”
“No.”
Alves sighed. “I marvel at how one-dimensional your mind is. Luke Greenwood spent his life rescuing poor, abused animals from nasty people. People like me, perhaps. He was a hero. A man of the earth!” Alves shook his head. “Tell me. What do you think he enjoyed more, rescuing those poor animals or hurting the evil abusers?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Ah, there’s the single dimension again. What is the difference, indeed? Revenge, regardless of whom you deliver it upon, is still a human trait, is it not?”
DeeAnn answered reluctantly. “I suppose.”
“Of course it is. So then I ask you; if your dear Luke were getting more pleasure from hurting those who are evil, how virtuous would his fundamental motivation truly be?”
DeeAnn quietly brushed a dangling strand of hair back over her ear.
“I have news for you, Ms. Draper. Human beings are motivated by their own interests and nothing more. Of course, we can all paint a different agenda or insist we act under a more noble value system, but in the end, all of our actions are self-motivated. No matter how small or how slight.” He gestured to Dulce. “And it’s the same with your animals.”