The Rise and Fall of Khan Noonien Singh, Volume One by Greg Cox Read Free Book Online

could, Roberta scanned the audience as the hall rapidly filled up, looking for one or more of the missing geneticists, whose photos she had committed to memory. So far the only faces she recognized, though, were from the dust jackets of some of the scholarly tomes she’d perused the night before. Would I spot the others if they were in disguise? she wondered; the Beta 5 had tracked down the best photo reference available on all of the missing scientists, but in some [34] instances, the results had been decidedly sketchy, especially for most of the Eastern Bloc subjects. In those cases, all Roberta had to go on were some blurry, black-and-white photos, sometimes years out of date. I might not even spot some of those characters if they sat down right beside me.
    The conference was definitely drawing a real international crowd, she noted, munching on a biscotti as she waited for the lecture to start. Among the hubbub of voices surrounding her, she identified American, French, German, Dutch, even Haitian and Pakistani accents. Her automatic translator was getting a workout, even though she had deliberately picked a talk that was being delivered in English, just to make her mission simpler. It was as good a criterion as any, she thought. Besides, this one sounds more general than some of the others.
    At approximately five minutes to ten, not one of the absent geneticists had made the scene, and Roberta seriously considered skipping over to one of the other events to scope out the crowd there. That seemed a little too conspicuous, however, not to mention rude, so she settled back into her seat, posed with her pencil poised above an open notebook, and prayed that her eyes would not glaze over too obviously.
    To her relief, the lecture, delivered by a Nobel Prize nominee whose name Roberta recognized from a couple of her marked-up scientific journals, was more accessible and interesting than she had feared. The good thing about gene splicing and cloning and all, it occurred to her, was that, since nobody could actually do all that stuff just yet, it was a lot easier to discuss their implications in the abstract than to get bogged down in all the messy little details.
    “The promise of gene therapy holds the hope of preventing—and even eradicating—a wide variety of human diseases and frailties,” the Famous Professor said after a ninety-minute survey of hereditary disorders and their genetic causes. “Cystic fibrosis, muscular dystrophy, mental retardation, sickle-cell anemia, juvenile diabetes, hemophilia, ADA deficiency, also known as ‘bubble boy’ disease—these and many other grievous human ailments will be stricken from the annals of mortal suffering once we can use recombinant DNA techniques to correct the chromosomal defects that cause such conditions. By [35] splicing healthy genes into the germ cells of individual parents, whose families may have carried one of these harmful mutations for generations, we will be able to lift this curse from their children, their grandchildren, and all their descendants to come. Thank you.”
    Sounds good, Roberta admitted, joining in a round of polite applause. Her initial gut response to this whole gene-tampering business had been one of wary skepticism; messing around with people’s DNA sounded a little too close to Brave New World for comfort, and Gary Seven’s dubious attitude toward the endeavor (even if faintly hypocritical) had only heightened her suspicion that maybe genetic engineering was one of those things that mankind was meant to leave alone, like nuclear missiles and streaking.
    On the other hand, she had to concede that the F.P. had made a good case for the medical benefits of selective genetic repair work. Roberta had known a girl with muscular dystrophy back in junior high; poor Tina had already been forced into a wheelchair by seventh grade, and her condition had only deteriorated over the years they went to school together. In the end, she had died early in