SELECT FR/BK MATTER & CH1
Copyright 2021 by Dan Gallagher. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or entities is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, except for brief excerpts for the purposes of review or analysis, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
For information, please contact:
StoriesAmazing
800 Third Avenue #1079
New York NY 10022
E-mail Pubs@StoriesAmazing.com
Rights inquiries (TV-series pilot, spin-off short stories (also cinematic items for $ecret$): Contact The William Pettit Agency.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication
Gallagher, Dan, 1959-
Ancient of Genes / Dan Gallagher
p. cm. First Edition
Preassigned LCCN (paperback): 2021915102
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-7376494-2-7
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7376494-1-0
eBook ISBN: 978-1-7376494-0-3
Audio Theater: 978-1-7376494-3-4
Categories
Primary: Science Fiction / Action Adventure
Secondary: Visionary / Metaphysical Thriller
Tertiary: War / Spy / Military Thriller
Dedication
To Laura, wife for life
and mother to our four.
Also…
to all who yearn to experience what or who was out there… and remains within.
Invitation
If high adventure and thought-provoking mysteries of the prehistoric, archaeological, and spiritual kind intrigue you, please reward yourself & others: Enjoy this novel & Dan’s other works, become an appreciated “Reader-friend” and please kindly enable your friends & acquaintances to experience his work.
Note from the Author
Thank you for considering Ancient of Genes (AOG). This provocative spiritual and scientific thriller is vastly improved in pace and prose over its 1998 predecessor, The Pleistocene Redemption (TPR). Accolades reprinted herein for TPR are applicable to AOG. TPR sold 4,080 copies in fifteen months, earning twenty-six rave professional reviews and two slams. But AOG was tightened from 148,000 words to 75,000 and meticulously revised using reader & professional feedback.
Now at least as stimulating and controversial as TPR was, AOG can enliven any book discussion group. Sign up for AuthorDan visual, audio and reading treats plus the privilege to influence new works! Please enable others to enjoy AOG, its spin-off short stories and my award-winning nonfiction by creating links on your website and sharing on social media. I try hard and listen well so that my work, including useful nonfiction, makes great gifts that show you care.
Enjoy reviews, excerpts, video trailers & more at AuthorDan.com. Please note this descriptive and age-appropriateness information:
AOG is grounded in real genetics and the only prophecy in common (in one form or another) among all religions & myth traditions.
No evolutionism & creationism themes; no dinosaurs. Reviewers praised its plot as no rehash of any prehistoric-related fiction.
AOG is a two-decades-spanning adventure for fascination-driven readers; a spiritual thriller to intrigue thoughtful readers.
Ancient of Genes is a “clean” read, but it is only appropriate for teens & adults mature enough to grapple with life’s creation & meaning.
Thank you in advance for being my appreciated Reader-friend!
--DG
Accolades for Ancient of Genes (current version)
…Spellbinding, well-researched and has intriguing characters. …A page-turner as we get to learn about the growth and development of the characters over the span of 16 years. Feeling a deep, emotional connection with the protagonist and other characters is inevitable. The author... explain[s] complex scientific ideas in a comprehensible manner... real-world scientific research... intriguing storyline, superior storytelling craft, rich world-building.
-- The Book Commentary (David Reyes, author, reviewer)
--------------------------------
Ancient of Genes recently slammed on to the bestseller list, no doubt due to its inspired plot and oh so very intriguing characters that draw you deeper into the plot with each and every page. This brilliant author has delivered readers a read that hits all the sweet spots and beyond, making this an epic read....
-- USAReformer (Tracey Williams, Ph.D., author, reviewer, professor)
--------------------------------
A phenomenal book... the setting, descriptiveness and raw energy captivate, all coming together to have the reader turning pages effortlessly.
-- Digital Journal (Markos Papadatos "Best Long Island Personality" in Arts & Entertainment)
--------------------------------
9 stars out of 10, but we'll round up! Gallagher lays out the underlying science in Chapter One, priming the engines. Then the plot takes off like a rocket. There are plenty of evolving characters, with powerful motivations and inspirations. Even human sub-species stand on their own. Gallagher excels, too, in his action scenes and creature encounters. The plot and intrigue are multilayered. Read Ancient of Genes now!
-- SubCreated-Worlds (Josh Griffing, author of Pyre & Ice and The Wayward Sun Universe)
25 Prior version Accolades for The Pleistocene Redemption
– still applicable to Ancient of Genes
by category: Literary, Scientific, Spiritual
Literary:
“Intense… harrowing… will grip the reader from the first page to the last.… Another of those science fiction masterpieces… so hard to put down.”
– Midwest Book Reviews (Cox)
“Gallagher goes into intense detail of every aspect of this world…. So much so that not only does the reader feel like a nightmare that won't stop has been created... so vivid that reading becomes a scary, yet thrilling adventure in exploring our own roots.... Profound… a wonderful job of connecting philosophy and the humanities with science… surprising… intense… sobering….”
– Bookwatch (Glodowski)
“A fast-paced new thriller and a great read.”
– Prehistoric Times (Fredericks)
“A fabulous, wild, fast-paced story that combines an extraordinary amount of research with a real narrative gift. The ending will leave you overwhelmed with its profound philosophical and spiritual implications. I highly recommend it.”
– Doug Preston, best-selling co-author: The Relic & Mount Dragon
“Fascinating... the Preserve... the Neanderthals... the perils. More authentic than Jurassic Park.”
– James Gunn, author of The Joy Machine (Star Trek #80) and The Road to Science Fiction
“The whole family is fighting over it -- great stuff!”
– Anne Marie Duquette, author, In the Arms of the Law
“An important addition to science fiction…. Others have tried…. Now Gallagher… keeps the reader off balance with action: hungry Pleistocene megafauna, political tension and realistic military conflicts… a novel that is hard to put down.”
– Thomas J. Bassler, M.D. (T.J. Bass), author of Half Past Human
“I truly enjoyed it. … a mind-opener, challenging…. It may make you angry, but it will definitely make you think. A compelling read.”
– Richard La Plante, author of Tegné and Steroid Blues
“Extraordinary vision… well researched… intriguing….”
– William Sarabande, author of “The First Americans” sagas
“An engrossing confluence of cutting-edge science, thought-provoking ethics, and storytelling that moves at the pace of a Gatling gun.”
– Lincoln Child, best-selling co-author: The Relic & Mount Dragon
Scientific:
“Hard to put down…. Hauntingly close to real possibilities… terrifying. I truly enjoyed the action, excitement, politics, human drama, all mixed with enough science to make me think that perhaps this could really happen.”
– Scott R. Woodward, Ph.D., geneticist and microbiologist, Brigham Young University
“A giant leap beyond Jurassic Park! Its foundation in real technology & biology enables the reader to hurtle into this very enjoyable and intriguing fiction.”
– William W. Hauswirth, Ph.D. & Erin L. Hauswirth, Editorial Board, “Ancient Biomolecules”
“This is not a story to put down, but you may wish it to last forever. Thrilling, with a fine blend of adventure, politics, religion, and science. More scientifically plausible and better written than any other book I have read on regenerating extinct species.”
– Neil Clark, Ph.D., Curator, Hunterian Museum (Scotland) & author of books on dinosaurs
“This thrilling, wild adventure uses just-beyond-current science to plausibly, forcefully and vividly place readers among astounding animals. As your muscles tense and your heart pounds, wipe the sweat off your brow and try to tell yourself that it's only a story!”
– Larry G. Marshall, Ph.D., paleontologist, The Institute for Human Origins
“A gripping and highly entertaining yarn, matching Jurassic Park in accuracy & plausibility.”
– John M. Harris, Ph.D., Chief Curator of the G. C. Page Museum of La Brea Discoveries
“A high spirited, adventurous book worthy of the time and considerable thought readers will happily invest. Readers will definitely have things to think about as they turn the last pages.”
– Kelly Milner-Halls, author of Dino-Trekking
“A fast-paced and imaginative story, based on wide-ranging background research, that prompts one to wonder what it really means to be human.”
– Ian Tattersall, Ph.D., paleontologist, author: The Last Neanderthal
“Thoughtfully addressing critical issues confronting humanity, this science fiction/geopolitical thriller leaves Jurassic Park way behind. It's an intellectual adventure in… molecular biology, species regeneration, biomedical ethics, and spirituality. An assured classic and a ‘must’ read.”
– J. Richard Greenwell, Secretary of The International Society of Cryptozoology
“A crackerjack adventure chock full of derring-do, with a grand bonus for the paleontologist.... Vast... innovative... far more ambitious [than] the Jurassic Park novels... global in complexity... - and what a cast! … a work of great philosophic complexity... quite readable... first class science fiction... ingenious... compelling....”
– Paleontologia Electronica (Anderson)
Spiritual:
“With skill, wit and humor, Gallagher deftly propels readers. This pleasurable tale is hauntingly profound. Accelerating powerfully within natural and supernatural realms, it enthralls, consoles, and terrifies. This important thriller melds biotechnology, espionage, spiritual challenge, prehistoric adventure and more. A compelling and meaningful experience joining the ranks of Shelley's Frankenstein, Huxley's Brave New World, and Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz.”
– Russell E. Smith, STD, KHS, Past President, The Pope John Center for Bioethics
"Few science fiction writers also possess sufficient expertise in the religious and ethical fields to provide the balance necessary for a thoroughly compelling narrative. Dan Gallagher is an exception.... [The] climax, containing one of the finest action sequences in recent fiction, approaches apocalyptic dimensions.... While Michael Crichton’s Jurassic stories were interesting..., Gallagher ups the ante dramatically and intellectually. His spiritual and ethical probing of characters and situations is also relentless as the escalating peril... reaches catastrophic dimensions....An extraordinary work...."
– Richard J. Woods, O.P., author of Mysticism Prophecy, The Devil, and fiction works
“Intellectual… timely…, and a most entertaining story…. A gripping science fiction…. Research, plot & character development, and intrigue are extraordinary…. In refreshing opposition to the chaos-deterministic theme of Jurassic Park and the neopaganism of The Celestine Prophecy.… I had a difficult time setting this fine work down and heartily commend it to the thoughtful reader.”
– J. F. Bierlein, author of Parallel Myths
“Dan Gallagher has given us... this visionary... spine-chilling and compelling work [and has] also given it the ingredient that separates the good books from the great books. It gets you to think! If you've been looking for a book that is provocative and controversial, look no further.”
– Richard Fuller, Ph.D., Senior Editor, “Metaphysical Reviews”
“Science fiction with a soul.... Intriguing and insightful.... Controversial? Perhaps. Riveting? Definitely!”
– Book Reviews by Clancy Cross
“Science fiction, anthropology, religion & thriller for fans of Jurassic Park & the human spirit.”
– Lynne Bundesen, author of So the Woman Went Her Way
“Thrilling new insight…. Not only is the style of writing riveting, but the scientific and ethical infrastructure of this remarkable work is faultless. A brave new voice!
– Bernard N. Nathanson, M.D., author of The Hand of God
Wars & rumors of war, seen & unseen
Ancient Whispers:
God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones.
– Matthew 3:9
Children a year old shall speak with their voices, and pregnant women shall give birth to premature children at three and four months, and these shall live and leap about.
– 2 Esdras 6:21
Arrogant Answers:
The Bible and the Testament are impositions, forgeries.
– Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason
God is dead.... He whom they call Redeemer put them in fetters of false values and delusive words. Would that someone would redeem them from their Redeemer!
– F. Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra Second Part
Final Calls:
Roam the earth; see how God has brought the Creation into being. Then God will initiate the Latter Creation.
– Qur’an 29.20
When they have finished their testimony, the beast that comes up from the abyss will wage war against them...conquer...kill them.
– Revelation 11:7
Prologue
Humankind struggled for millennia to survive and understand this world. We hunted fantastic animals, even cousin-races. We sought insight into life’s inception and meaning through superstition, religion and science. Has science shown that only we control our destiny?
Some say that there is a voice that calls our names before birth and as we mature, then pines to call us home at our deaths. Is this an archaic superstition, destructive of individual freedoms? Others believe that they have plenty of time before they will have to deal with the serious issues of life and death. Pontius Pilate, a man denigrated by history but esteemed by peers until refusal to worship Caesar cost his life, asked an enduring question: “What is truth?”
Why is “regeneration of Eden after destruction” the only prophecy that, in some form, is held in common among nearly all religions and myth traditions? Are socially erosive behaviors based in genetics and, hence, neither moral nor immoral? Were the Hebrews a people chosen by God or did they simply misinterpret natural phenomena? Who can discern meaning from the coincidences, personality changes and dreams that develop in the passing years of our lives?
Kevin Gamaliel Harrigan, driven by struggles deep within, pursued these questions. He sought the truth—or perhaps it sought him—about the human animal, destiny and himself. A brilliant leader with vision, he was well equipped to capture the answers. Many accompanied him on his journey; among these, Manfred Freund who sought insight from both the seen and unseen. In a quest spanning two decades, the two men ultimately did find the answers.
Who could possibly have foreseen that such work would lead to the most ominous implications ever to confront humanity?
Science Journal
19 September 1991
Researchers at the South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology, Bolzano, South Tyrol, Italy, have announced the finding of a naturally mummified man. The Iceman, or Otzi, as he has been nicknamed, is dated as having lived between 3400 and 3100 BCE. The body was found in the Alps, between Austria and Italy.
His body and belongings are on display at the South Tyrol Museum in Bolzano, South Tryol, Italy, with one oddity: his genitals are missing.
Chapter One
Harvard University, Boston, Massachusetts
1238 hours, 24 May 2020
Kevin Harrigan picked the yellowing newspaper clipping up off the floor, along with a dozen others on non-mineralized human bodies found ranging in age from a few millennia to tens of thousands. He filed all of it in the bottom drawer of Dr. Wentz’s desk. Retrieving the pen he’d come for, he returned to the lab, pondering what it meant. Did someone purposely pull that file? Did they understand the magnitude of what it meant? Missing genitals. He often wondered how his professor got those missing genitals and other fossil meiotic material, but never asked. He need pay as an assistant to recoup the Army its scholarship, be released to civilian status and study genetics. Dr. Wentz had been initially skeptical of a short, redheaded Army medical student. But as studies progressed, he had recruited Harrigan into his secret work. After thirty years for Wentz—the last two assisted by Harrigan—they were finally close to seeing the results they sought.
Did Dr. Wentz leave the file out? He’s pretty absentminded. No matter. The lab assistant, nobody would see that clipping and suspect that Dr. Wentz had actually found—stolen?—the genitals. Just old articles stuffed in an old file.
He refocused his attention on the specimen under his scanning electron microscope, and then the color print-out of an RNA molecule, the mysterious translator of genetic instructions. He thought, with great pride, that everyone except he and Wentz believed RNA functioned only to maintain DNA after an organism is formed and to translate DNA’s instructions to the organism’s cells. Focus! No mysteries or cures uncovered without a doctorate.
Dr. Wentz’s clandestine genetics project consumed them both and demanded immense effort, in spite of Wentz’s advancing age.
Harrigan shivered. What if the unauthorized work were discovered, and the modern samples that donors hadn’t authorized for…? He focused again on the specimen. Nothing to worry about. This was Wentz’ life’s work, well hidden.
Three years before, in a thick Austrian accent, Wentz had pulled Harrigan in. “Shtudying dis specimen has to me given a renewed sense of purpose und deferred my retirement from…an unremarkable career. I haf confided in you because I cannot do all of this verk alone. Neider can I let it be lost if I should sterb-- uh, English -- die while the files und materials are intentionally mismarked. You are my brightest shtudent. Work with me.” Wenz paused, then continued excitedly.
“By comparing modern genes with the archaic ones, we can track disease resistance, longevity, changes in the human species, redeem atrophied traits daht are useful und hunt down genetic defects. What do you say, Kevin? Discovery is why you left the Army, yah? Explore human genetic evolution with me. Mankind will owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Harrigan had leapt at the chance to make his mark. We’ll pioneer a new field, he had mused. I’d do anything to study genetic changes over time, even speciation within genus Homo. Most importantly, we can eradicate genetic diseases—help Pete—improve humankind in myriad ways, transform medicine itself!
Eventually they used PCR to replicate some of the undestroyed segments of genetic material from the Ice Man sperm. PCR, the polymerase chain reaction, produced viable copies of fragile DNA segments. He had then inserted these copies into modern human eggs whose genetic strands were removed, manipulating a second set of male-contributed genes so as to produce a purely archaic clone of the Ice Man. The eggs were genetically coded so that they could not mature past nine or ten weeks. The resulting zygotic masses, embryos, helped Harrigan and Wentz isolate the effects of the archaic genes, and compare their nucleic composition and functions with modern genes. The embryos yielded clues to the production and chemistry of various kinds of RNA molecules. Harrigan found that the first of these to form existed only during the formation of new eggs in the female zygotes. It marked thousands of DNA sequences for dormancy. He called the molecule “primary” meiotic RNA. He suspected that this M1-RNA preserved as-yet unidentified traits, possibly inhibiting speciation.
Despite the danger to his career, Harrigan had become as addicted as Wentz, though for different reasons. For more than three years, he was consumed by the desire to unlock the secrets of what made humans human, and how the revealed secrets could cure genetic diseases.
Harrigan finally finished up the segment he was studying and headed home where he rapidly devoured two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then sat down to study for the tests he had to face the next day.
Two hours later, sleep began to seem more valuable than reading over material he already knew. Still nervous over the interrogatories, he finally fell asleep an hour later.
At midnight, the sudden ringing of his phone jerked him awake. He glared at the clock and then saw Dr. Wentz’s name on the phone. “Hello?”
The Austrian’s voice came fast, shaky, and thick with accent. “Kevin, it is I, Dr. Wentz. Someone has accessed the computer files. The files. Und alle the specimen flasks—They are gone. I’m almost out of meine mind, for Gott’s sake. Come down, can you?”
After a moment, Dr. Wentz’s words sank in. “I’ll be right there.”
____________
The following night, Harrigan sat nervous and angry in the white marble anteroom to the chancellor’s conference hall.
Too late and too rude of the chancellor, Harrigan thought, flexing his jaw in suppressed fury, but I’ll hold my tongue for now. They had damn well better treat Dr. Wentz with respect.
Harrigan’s mind shifted into confrontation-ready mode—even violent fantasy—though his personal discipline held. Vivid memories of Ranger School flooded him.
____________
Dog-tired and too close together for proper tactical intervals, the Ranger students hesitated in crossing an icy stream. Harrigan’s ruck held blasting caps, used to detonate the otherwise inert plastic C-4 explosives carried by another Ranger candidate. His close friend Manfred “Mannie” Freund, a German exchange officer, waited just ahead in the formation.
Bunching up again! Harrigan mused. We’re gonna give Jenkins another excuse to explode.
To infamous instructor Sergeant Jenkins, this bunching up was an intolerable lack of tactical discipline. Jenkins brought up the rear of the formation and carried no weapon or ruck. With massive hands and a stern brow, he reminded Harrigan of a cave man. He wore three black chevrons on his sweaty camouflaged lapel and the coveted Ranger tab on his left shoulder.
“Maintain your damn interval,” came Buck Sergeant Jenkins’ angered shout. “You scum-sucking officers...” He flung the last man in the formation, a second lieutenant being tested in the role of platoon sergeant, backward several feet. “...think you can just have a preppy damn frat party...” The next soldier became a blur hurtling to the ground. “...in my friggin' swamp and expect me to give you the tab.” The volume and pitch of his abusive tirade continued to grow. “I'm sick of you privileged, pansy dirt bags!”
Harrigan was about to turn with a retort to stop the abuse of his fellows when he felt a slap on his ruck. He landed hard on his butt and was abruptly energized by fear of the blasting caps as they bounced out of his rucksack. When they did not explode, his fear became outrage.
Harrigan yanked a quick-release to shed his ruck and sprang to his feet. He lunged at Jenkins and, with his right hand, grabbed the instructor around the waist from behind. He jammed his left forearm up into Jenkins’ crotch and, on pure adrenaline, lifted the buck sergeant off his feet and slammed him head-first into a jagged stump.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Harrigan screamed. “You think you can shove us around ’cause the rank is off our shirts?” With those words, the realization hit Harrigan: This guy is going to cream me!
Without a sound, the caveman-looking NCO ran his hand over his wound and slurped up a mitt-full of blood. He rose and spit it into Harrigan’s eyes. Momentarily advantaged, Jenkins snatched the rifle dangling from the ‘dummy cord’ that linked it to Harrigan and thrust it, muzzle first, at Harrigan’s teeth.
By trained reflex, Harrigan deflected the weapon just as it met his lips. He grabbed Jenkins’ shirt and slammed his forehead into the bridge of Jenkins’ nose. Harrigan dropped backwards to the ground, crunching his right boot in Jenkins’ solar plexus and the other in his crotch. He launched the windless instructor into the air behind him.
The fight was broken up by the Senior Ranger Instructor, Master Sergeant Gaines. “What you need to learn, Ranger Harrigan,” Gaines had said with almost evangelical fervor, “is that we are here to prepare for war. Better learn to distinguish friends from enemies.”
The admonition triggered a vision in Harrigan of himself diving into a cold river full of giant reptilian jaws. Distinguish friends from enemies, came the echo. He blinked hard, dismissed it, and continued this last patrol telling himself it was a stress-induced hallucination. But when Harrigan later pulled a coral snake from Freund’s arm, sucking away venom and spitting it into Jenkins’ face, Gaines had Harrigan and Jenkins disciplined by the Camp Commander...and Jenkins swore revenge.
The commander ordered Harrigan to assume the front-leaning rest, a stationary push-up. After the tongue-lashing with grudging praise for saving Freund and standing up for his platoon, the Captain admitted that Harrigan would receive the Ranger tab. Then he spit tobacco juice in a cup and scowled. He handed Harrigan newly faxed orders and growled, “You must be special, just like you think you are. Hey, don’t medical programs start in the fall? You’re in for a major ass-kicking, starting in the middle like that. You may speak, you sawed-off little whelp.”
Harrigan smiled broadly and strained to turn his head and shout his triumphantly sarcastic answer, “Yes, Camp Commander. Just like West Point, two academic majors, Officer Basic, Ranger School, and Jenkins all kicked my ass.”
“Dismissed, Harrigan. One of these days somebody’s gonna kill you.”
____________
Now, refocusing on his crisis at Harvard, Harrigan assured himself that courage and moxie would aid in facing it. He’d recover from penalty.
He watched Wentz exit the conference room and sit, tearful and silent, next to him. Harrigan felt like hitting someone for this humbling of Dr. Wentz but told himself to cool. The massive oak door opened and the chancellor’s assistant’s face jutted out. It struck Harrigan as a pin-head and a pencil-neck.
“You may come in now, Dr. Harrigan.”
The assistant ducked from Harrigan’s glare and yielded the passage.
Harrigan stood rigid before the Board. Ethical-immaculates, he silently branded them.
The chancellor, visibly tired, addressed the accused. “It’s been a long thirty-some days, Dr. Harrigan, and it’s late, so I’ll come right to the point. The Board has determined that your unauthorized and unethical research was independent of that conducted to fulfill your doctoral requirements. As such, it has declined the Disciplinary Committee’s recommendation that your degree be rescinded. I concur. So, you will retain your degree.
“But it is a fact that you participated in the creation and destruction of fetuses, using University resources and donor eggs not authorized by the donors for such a purpose. The University will, tomorrow, release a press statement to that effect, announcing that all findings, data, and specimens involved have been destroyed. Those items will be destroyed after this meeting.
“You and Dr. Wentz might be relieved to know that we will not disclose the origin of the specimen, since it could not be verified. But you are permanently barred from this institution and a summary of the case will be released. I doubt you’ll be able to make anything of yourself in genetics.”
“Your opinion, Chancellor, of my career prospects is as wrong as your ethics. You’re just trying to avoid lawsuits from me, the donors, and the Italian government. Dr. Wentz gave you years of loyal service and important discoveries, but now you kick him when he’s down. You’ve got a lot of nerve. This institution teaches abortion techniques, and its medical plan pays for RU-586. I suppose that’s appropriate. But you are hypocrites if you think my research on fetal material is any different. Hypocrites!”
Harrigan fought the impulse to violence and left the room. In the anteroom, he grasped Dr. Wentz’s hand firmly.
“Should have taken my advice und gotten a lawyer. Vill you keep your Ph.D., Kevin?”
“Yes. They decided to avoid a suit, but they’d better be careful how they publicize this. What will you do with your retirement, Dr. Wentz?”
“Weis nicht—I just don’t know. But I want to stay away from the public for a very long time. Did you read the Science Journal article? They are saying we made hybrid fetuses und killed them. Lies. How can they view it that way? We discovered gene repair during the formation of eggs.”
Wentz held Harrigan’s shoulder and resumed. “You discovered how to redeem archaic genetic material. This could be of monumental importance. Und they are destroying all the research. Imbeciles! Man was meant to study man.” Wentz’s voice clogged in his throat. “Now it’s all lost. Your brilliant research career ist vorbei before it’s begun.” His voice turned melancholy and quiet. Wentz looked at the floor. “Und mine is ended in disgrace. I can never face friends und colleagues again. We’re beaten, finished.”
“You’ve long needed a rest. Take a cruise. Maybe put your notes back together to defy these sanctimonious jerks. And don’t be so sure they’ve beaten me. As for the gene redemption process and ‘primary’ meiotic RNA discovery, they can’t take those out of my brain.”
“Vat vill you do now, Kevin?”
“I haven’t decided. My folks have been great through the controversy. I’ll visit with them for a few days. Then maybe go on vacation to plan my next moves, career-wise; duck the press. If those bastards think they can wave a pen and stop me, they’re wrong.”
“Goot luck, Kevin. I hope you can build a life after this.”
“Thank you, Dr. Wentz, for everything. Don’t get despondent. It’s like Mannie Freund, my old college buddy used to say: ‘It’s how you view life.’ You do have at least one friend; I respect you and appreciate you. So, chin up, okay?”
“Ja. ‘Chin up.’ That ist the way.”
Harrigan smiled warmly, shook Wentz’ hand, and left.
____________
That evening Harrigan drove, stone-faced and steaming over the chancellor’s prediction, past the Cathedral of the Holy Cross toward his apartment on Union Park Street. He parked, eyeing the cathedral’s huge circular window above the arched entrance. He knew the red-stained glass depicted the figure of an English king, but it looked distinctly like a blooming rose to him now. He concluded that he was hallucinating due to stress and that it might also have been prompted by the scent of roses surrounding the Madonna statue on the cathedral lawn.
That’s odd, he mused, my windows are rolled up; no AC. Harrigan saw only dark mist. Infants weeping reverberated from a one-story, flat-roofed building below a cliff. His breath became shallow, halting. Then a glistening woman in a white gown and blue shawl appeared against a pitch-black sky. Ashes flew from a gash in the earth as dividing bubbles streamed from a jagged hole in the building’s roof. These soared behind her as a red-sashed rider on a white horse appeared in the distance. A dozen stars shone around her head, only to burst into countless suns, filling the firmament with light.
“Much is at stake, son of Ephraim,” she whispered in a comforting yet challenging voice, “for you eternally, for all humanity. You who must choose between your prideful will and the source of redemption. Choose humbly.”
He blinked, now gazing at the cross atop the cathedral. His eyes filled with tears as he considered going to confession and Mass. He let out an awkward, pitiful moan that surprised him, embarrassed momentarily for having yielded to what he thought of as superstition. He put the car in gear and proceeded to his apartment. He wrote a few to-do notes and slept. The next morning, he left for a four-day visit to his parents’ home in Hartford.
____________
On his last morning at his parent’s home, just before light, Harrigan sat sipping coffee in the small but cozy kitchen. His father was not yet up. This morning he felt guilty that he had anticipated an “I told you so” attitude but encountered only moving support from both parents despite all the media criticism and debate of the last four weeks.
His mother stared at him from across the kitchen. “The newspapers say all the work you were doing has been destroyed. Why?”
“The university said they destroyed everything because findings may only be added to the genetics body of knowledge if obtained ethically—by their self-serving definition of ethics. They didn’t want anyone to have any possible incentive for doing unauthorized research—any possibility that their work would be kept. The real reason is that they didn’t want an investigation that could enable the anonymous egg donors to sue them.”
“The Time article said you were able to rejuvenate destroyed sperm. A Fossil Gene Redemption process, they called it. How could that be done?”
“It can’t, exactly. I wanted to study how sperm and eggs are produced; how the genes are assembled when they’re first created. That production process is called meiosis. For boys, meiosis occurs when they’re several years old and practically impossible to study. The sperm would have to be observed forming in living testicular filaments. But for girls, meiosis occurs while they’re still in the womb. We can study fetuses in a genetically modified pig uterus. So, fetuses are vastly easier to obtain and work with.
“For years, Wentz couldn’t get permission for an unrestricted study of meiosis. Finally, he and I just went ahead and did it, and we discovered an RNA molecule that occurs only during meiosis. We thought it may inhibit certain types of human mutation. It might also...”
“Also what, dear?”
“Don’t talk about this, okay? I suspect it makes some traits dormant for generations. This could explain how saber teeth appear in one species of cat, skip another species that arose from the first, and then reappear in another that evolved directly from the second. Re-emergence is called atavism. It could be a key to reviving prehistoric traits of extinct animals, even human ancestors. We could only find traces of it in animals, but lots in the Ice Man. We suspect it’s even more prevalent in modern humans.”
“Gawd between us and harm, Kevin!”
“The Ice Man specimen offered us the chance to go further. When I discovered this new RNA, I wanted to find out whether it occurred only in humans and how far back in the development of sapiens this trait arose. I couldn’t implant any of the genes from the specimen into a modern egg, but I found a way to stretch out the convoluted genetic material without destroying it and enhance the way computer-controlled scanners could follow and read its segments. That enabled that PCR machine I showed you last year to reconstruct most of the genetic coding in the archaic sperm. It’s like this, Mom:”
Harrigan grabbed a thin booklet that his father had left lying on the table. It was the instruction manual for assembling a cabinet.
“Imagine you have instructions, say four pages typed, for making a cabinet. These printed pages represent the genetic blueprint of a possible baby the Ice Man might have fathered, less the egg’s half of course. Now imagine I tore each page into five or six pieces.”
He ripped the booklet as his mother gasped but held her tongue.
“That tearing represents the damage done to the sperm’s genetic instructions over ten thousand years. Got it so far?”
“I think so. You could put them back together if you could read the language. You could tell which words and sentences would make sense as you put the puzzle together. Right?”
“Exactly. And we have a mental model of what these pages ought to look like. The words and sentences are like gene segments. The computer can read and make sense of them. That’s because it has a database, like the language that the cabinet instructions are written in, from the recently completed human genome project. Remember I told you about that project to decipher and map human genes?”
“Yes, but there must be many different children any given man could father. How can the genes be put back together with all of that complication?”
“First, siblings aren’t as different as you might think. I’ve begun to suspect that far more extensive ‘personality sequences’ exist in genes than were discovered in the last decade—that these produce the really significant differences. Even if so, personality genes are a tiny portion of all sequences. Second, I discovered that all the instructions for marginally distinct potential children can be estimated by the computer. The genetic coding in each sperm is only slightly different. For any given man—and the ‘Ice Man’ was no exception—most segments in the genes of each sperm are identical.
“All of the segments were damaged, but that damage was never in exactly the same place for every fossil sperm. The computer read the instructions—the genetic sequences—in hundreds of sperm. It could infer what the destroyed segments were by reading the corresponding intact segment from a different sperm in the same sample.
“I had the computer build a model of what the most common configuration of genetic sequences were, then compared its readings of each sperm scanned to the model. That way it kept updating and perfecting the model of the most common configuration. It eventually built a model of the coding of the typical sperm in the sample. It’s like reassembling these printed pages—by being able to read and know which words and sentence fragments would make sense if you put them together.
“Then, we just waited a few days while the enhanced-speed PCR machine manufactured an actual set of gene sequences from that perfected model—the reassembled instructions. I added instructions that mass-produce a sort of editing tool—my own version of the CRISPR molecule that gene therapy clinics have used for years to splice and insert genes. CRISPR’s a long acronym I won’t bother you with, and mine’s different anyway. It multiplies and moves along gene strands to accelerate the whole process. Then we put the new genes into a donor egg—a kind of artificial mating.
“The reconstruction was very good but imperfect, so to avoid creating a freak, I inserted genes that coded all the embryos to be female and to terminate just after meiosis would occur. The RNA molecule only appears during meiosis. It falls apart once the female embryo’s own eggs form. I think it’s the same for sperm production. Evidence from doing this with donor eggs of several races suggests that it’s present in every modern population. The Ice Man showed us that ‘primary’ meiotic RNA was less prevalent long ago. The significance, Mom, is that a biological process might be occurring that keeps humans from evolving further! This isn’t published and I’m not about to give the press any interviews. These Harvard fools won’t even study it. This research could lead to genetic cures! Did I explain this clearly?”
Harrigan saw horror, possibly a deeper understanding, in her eyes.
“Kevin, you created human beings using living women’s eggs and a dead man’s sperm—and prearranged for the little-girl fetuses to be unable to grow to experience a mother’s love—while you studied what went on in the doomed fetuses’ ovaries.”
“I started it all for Peter! I wanted to be able to fix genes for individuals—even humanity’s genome—so no one has to suffer from Down Syndrome… or other genetic flaws.”
“Your brother doesn’t suffer. He’s just different, and he’s the way God intended him to be. We don’t love him less because he’s not a brilliant scientist like you.”
“He’s not normal. Someday anyone will be able to be made normal by correcting genes.”
“Who are you to determine what is normal?”
Kevin stared at her, not comprehending how she could be so dense.
“Don’t you tell your father,” she continued. “It would kill him. And God help you, son of mine. I’m not your judge. But I am a mother, and I know what a human being is. Caring about human suffering hasn’t kept you from wrong judgment.”
Harrigan’s face turned ashen. He realized his parents must not have completely read or understood the many articles that taunted him when they offered their warmth. Then his face reddened and hardened in an indignant frown. “Then you are judging me. Stop it, Mom. It’s not against the law. Look: It’s man’s destiny and purpose to study every aspect of himself and his world. So, don’t lecture me. I’m doing this for the good of mankind.”
“All right, Kevin.” Her voice sounded sad and quiet, almost defeated. “I won’t lecture you. I’ll just pray for you.”
Harrigan noticed his father standing in the kitchen. The man’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I understand now, Kevin.” And he walked, head low, silently from the room.
Harrigan stared after him, equally vindicated and ashamed. I can’t teach them anything.
After gathering his belongings, he drove to back to Boston to pack for a Florida vacation.
Just after noon, a man arrived with an ornate envelope. Inside was a note from a diplomat from Iraq’s newly reformed government. It hinted at joint scientific projects with the Israelis to promote peace, and it involved the newly famous African-British explorer Dr. Bart Lloyd, captor of a yeti—abominable snowman of the Himalayas—alive.
The envelope also had tickets for a London flight that very evening.
Why not? Harrigan thought, grinning for the first time in weeks. What could go wrong?
END OF EXCERPT.
Acknowledgments
AuthorDan is indebted to scientists, theologians and others who assisted this project. The following is a list of those who provided assistance through conversation and/or correspondence.
John J. Collins, Ph.D.: assistance with biblical questions
Margery C. Coombs, Ph.D.: help with Ancylotherium
Eugene Gafney, Ph.D.: help with the Meiolania
Nick Graham, Ph.D.: fascinating info on theoretical meteorology
Jerry L. Hall, Ph.D.: guidance on genetics: the possible & impossible
John M. Harris, Ph.D.: excellent advice on Pleistocene fauna
William W. Hauswirth, Ph.D.: enlightening help on genetics
Larry G. Marshall, Ph.D.: valuable advice on Pleistocene fauna
Paul S. Martin, Ph.D.: help with geology and fauna
Greg McDonald, Ph.D.: extensive help with fauna
Jim I. Meade, Ph.D.: examples of soft tissue preserved for millennia
Geoffrey Pope, Ph.D.: help with our ancestor-races
Merritt Ruhlen, Ph.D.: linguistics facts & his Nostratic Dictionary
Tom Torgersen, Ph.D.: extremely useful help with geological issues
Thanks are due to several NASA engineers for help with environmental and aeronautical issues. Friends at Camp Peary, Williamsburg assisted with description of intelligence protocols. Many scholars’ works were of great help: Francesco Cavalli-Sforza, Ph.D., L. Luca Cavalli-Sforza, Ph.D., Dougal Dixon, Stephen Jay Gould, Ph.D., Svante Pääbo, Ph.D., Steven Pinker, Ph.D.; R. J. G. Savage, Ph.D., Rev. Donald Senior, CP, and Robert Tjian, Ph.D.. An especially great resource was the International Society of Cryptozoology, Tucson, AZ. Thanks also to these natural history museums: The Smithsonian Institution (Washington, D.C.), the American Museum (New York); The Natural History Museum of L.A. County.
