"You're not old."
"Moo you," she said, and they made love while Garfield looked on with a sly grin.
Chris had anticipated Betsy Watkins's presentation, but he was not prepared for what he heard.
They met, as scheduled, at ten on Friday morning in the lab conference room. Gathered were Derek Wyman, Stan Chow, company chemist, Vartan Dolat, and Quentin. For the last several months, Betsy had taken over the cell studies.
Betsy was a compact woman with a sharp and pleasant face and wide intelligent eyes. She had dark loose curly hair that only emphasized the hard cool substance of her mind. Armed with notes and board chalk, she reviewed recent breakthroughs in the science then launched into a description of how Elixir worked at the cell level.
"Capping mammal chromosomes is a DNA sequence called 'telomeres,'" she explained. "Like the plastic tips on shoelaces, they function to protect chromosomal molecules from proteins that trigger the cell deterioration associated with aging."
She illustrated her point with diagrams on the board. "Each time a cell divides, telomeres of offspring cells become shorter and shorter. In healthy young cells, there is an enzyme called 'telomerase' containing the genetic code for restoring telomeres, allowing cells to divide by keeping the telomeres long. But as the cell gets old, the telomerase activity decreases and the telomeres get shorter until after a half a dozen replications in mice-fifty in humans-the sequence shortens until the cells die.
"But as we've discovered, cells treated with Elixir don't senesce. Instead, telomeres in treated animals held their length while cells continued to replicate. My guess is that tabulone activates the genes that produces telomerase, thereby maintaining a constant supply to keep the telomeres long and cells young."
"How does that jive with the literature?" Chris asked.
"Well, all aging studies hit the same brick walclass="underline" how to switch on telomerase production indefinitely." She held up an ampule of Elixir. "It's the magic bullet. It triggers an endless source of telomerase-the Fountain of Youth, if you will."
Betsy's reasoning was brilliant. But it also raised some fundamental questions. "Are you saying, then, that the cells of our bodies are genetically programmed to die?" Vartan asked.
Betsy hesitated to answer because of the enormity of the implications. "No, because that would mean that death is an evolutionary necessity. And, frankly, I don't believe that aging is the result of evolutionary forces," she answered. "And the reason is that Nature is a red-toothed demon that kills off most animals before they reach reproductive age, and those that make it almost never live long enough for aging to have become part of the natural selection process."
Chris felt a warm flow of satisfaction because it was the same conclusion he had reached years ago. More than that, he felt considerable admiration for Betsy and pride that a scientist with such fierce intelligence and authority was on his team.
Betsy continued, "There are so-called 'big-bang' exceptions like the Pacific salmon which seem genetically programmed to spawn and die within a few days. But on balance, death seems clearly to be the result of cell deterioration at the molecular level and not natural selection."
"Which means that aging could be stalled as long as the cells are protected," Chris added.
"Exactly, and tabulone appears to do just that. As long as the antioxidant binds to the DNA telomere sequence, cell death will not occur."
"What about the rejuvenating effect?" Chris asked.
Betsy nodded in anticipation of the query. "My guess is that it reverses the process. Say we started Jimbo on treatment on his twenty-seventh out of a max of thirty replications. As Elixir turns on the telomerase gene, instead of going twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, death!, the replications went twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five until he reached a steady state. Telomere lengths were restored with each division, and in the meantime he experiences moderate rejuvenation. That's still conjecture, but the important thing is that tabulone is a natural telomerase activator."
Chris was dumbfounded: What Betsy was describing was a breakthrough in cell biology. Under ordinary circumstances such findings would be winged to every major scientific journal. But they were sworn to secrecy.
The next step-Phase 2-was the rapid senescence problem. While the molecular work would be conducted by the others, Chris would concentrate on determining dosages-when exactly senescence began and how to reverse it.
"There's one more thing," Betsy said. Her expression had suddenly darkened. "While our successes don't guarantee prolongevity for humans, we're moving inexorably closer. I need not remind you how stupendous a discovery that is. But it's imperative we consider the higher implications before we blindly push onward."
There was a hushed moment.
"In fact, I suggest we stop right where we are."
"Stop? What are you saying?" It was Quentin from the rear of the room-the first words he had uttered in nearly two hours.
"I know how you feel, but there are some serious moral and social ramifications to what we're doing."
Quentin bolted upright in his chair. "Betsy, let me remind you that this project is guided by FDA protocol and good manufacturing principles as with all our work at Darby."
"I know that, Quentin, but Elixir is not like any other pharmaceutical in history. We're not talking about adding ten years to a person's life but doubling or tripling it."
"I fail to see the problem."
"The problem is we're no longer playing scientist, but God. And, frankly, I don't have the credentials! I'm asking, do we really want to open that door?"
"What door, for godsakes?" Quentin was losing his composure by the second.
"To all the nightmare potentials. If suddenly we introduce a compound that keeps the next generation from dying, the population in a hundred years would be twenty-six billion. Meanwhile, resources run out, the environment is devastated, and wars erupt between the Elixirs and the Elixir-nots-"
Quentin cut her off. "Betsy, your nightmare may be the only hope for patients suffering multiple sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig's Disease… or Alzheimer's."
That was intended to ingratiate Chris. But from Quentin it was a smarmy jab. He didn't give a damn about ethics or humanity. His sole interest was his billion-dollar dream.
"The potential impact is unimaginable," Betsy continued, "and we had better think about it while we still have time."
The others nodded in agreement. Sensing a conspiracy, Quentin shot Chris a look for help. But Chris remained silent. "You mean you want to pull the plug because it might be too successful?"
"Yes-because we should be working on improving the quality of the life, not trying to prolong it."
"Prolonging it is improving the quality, damn it!"
"Then we should get Public Citizen or some other watchdog agency to monitor its development."
"Jesus Christ! We don't need to have Ralph Nader and his people hanging over us again."
Four years ago, the medical arm of Nader's consumer group got the FDA to withdraw one of Darby's high-profit arthritis drugs because it caused heart failure in some patients. The very mention of the organization made Quentin apoplectic.
"Please," said Vartan holding up his hands. "Betsy's making an important point. There are too many big unknowns to grapple with. It's only ethical we reassess matters."
Derek and Stan agreed. It was clear that they had discussed matters among themselves already. Only Quentin and Chris were hearing the dissent for the first time.
Chris felt the battle lines divide them. He did not like being on the same side as Quentin. He also felt the rising expectation to say something. It was his project, after all. Suddenly his people were talking about halting a seven-year investment of his mind and soul-and at the very threshold of the kingdom. And they were expecting him to resolve what smacked of being the ultimate conflict between science and ethics.