“That’s very good of you,” Jack said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “I appreciate the gesture.” Actually, it sounded to him as if they thought they could buy him off with nothing more than an authorship of a study that might get published and might not. Worse yet, from Stephen’s body language, Jack sensed that the meeting was coming to an end despite his serious effort of being tactful and avoiding confronting them directly.
“Well,” Stephen said, slapping his thighs in preparation of getting to his feet. “Consider it a standing offer.”
Clearing his throat and deciding to go for the jugular, come what may, Jack leaned forward and said: “I think I should mention to you one test that was done in our lab whose results we already have in hand. We ran DNA analysis on both the patient and the heart to upload the profiles into CODIS in hopes of helping the identification process. A hit on either would have been helpful. To our shock both profiles were the same. Especially with twenty loci as the new standard, that is statistically impossible. Do you folks find that as surprising as we do?”
Both Stephen and Ted laughed, but it wasn’t entirely sincere to Jack’s ear. Stephen spoke up: “Of course we find that surprising, since we, too, know it is statistically impossible. Obviously, you should run the tests again. Surely there was a mix-up with the samples. I mean, we knew it was a great match, which we attributed to the possible kinship of the parties involved. I guess that’s why we were able to wean her off immunosuppressants so quickly.”
“We ran it twice,” Jack said. “And for the CODIS results to match, it would have had to have been identical twins. Obviously it wasn’t identical twins, since they were of different sexes, as Ted confirmed. There have been cases of identical twins being separated at birth, but that could not have been the case in this instance. In theory we’re facing a miracle here, but in reality it is more of an enigma that needs to be explained. The rapidity of Carol’s death reminded me of the influenza pandemic of 1918. To be entirely honest, I’m worried about a new pandemic.”
Jack sat back and watched the three people sitting at the table with him. Although Dr. Lin seemed unfazed, the other two were clearly discomfited, raising Jack’s curiosity and reminding him of the Shakespearean quote, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”
“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Stephen asked.
Jack shrugged. “Of course.”
Stephen and Ted both stood and left the room. It sounded as if they were arguing as the door closed behind them. Jack stared across the table at Dr. Lin, who smiled back at him. Jack tried to guess the man’s age but couldn’t. He looked particularly youthful, but Jack knew that couldn’t be the case, as the man was already a surgeon. His face was seemingly devoid of facial hair of any sort. Judging from the man’s accent, Jack assumed he was from China. To make conversation, Jack asked if that was the case.
“Yes, I am from China,” Dr. Lin said. He smiled broadly. “I’m from Jiao Tong University School of Medicine.”
“Are you in training?” Jack asked.
“Yes, I am training in cardiac surgery,” Dr. Lin said. “My institution sends someone here to Dover every year for transplant work.”
“Do you get good training here?”
“Oh, yes, the best,” Dr. Lin said.
Jack looked up as Stephen and Ted returned. Whatever their disagreement had been, it seemed to have totally passed. Although they had clearly been uptight when they left, there had been a definite transformation. They were literally laughing as they retook their seats.
“Well, you are in for a treat, my friend,” Stephen said, clapping his hands together with exuberance.
“That sounds encouraging,” Jack said. “I’ve been in need of a treat for years.”
“Ted and I both came to the conclusion simultaneously,” Stephen continued. “We thought that to properly show our collective appreciation of your efforts, you should meet the boss, the brains of the whole operation, Dr. Wei Zhao. Of course, it depends on your interest. What I mean to say is that there is no compulsion involved. How does the idea strike you?”
“My dance card has some leeway,” Jack said. Here was yet another surprise. Being offered the chance to meet the man of the hour was perhaps the last thing that Jack had expected on his visit.
“Perfect,” Stephen said. “And I’m happy to report that we have already called our Han emperor, and he is delighted to meet you.”
“I’m touched,” Jack said. “When might this happen?”
“In about an hour,” Stephen said. “Here’s what Ted and I propose. We’ll take you on a tour of our hospital or GeneRx. Your call. The meeting with Dr. Zhao will take place in our boss’s home office, which is a short fifteen-minute drive. Are you game?”
“Absolutely,” Jack said. “Sounds like a delightful afternoon.”
19
WEDNESDAY, 10:45 A.M.
The tour turned out to be far more interesting than Jack had imagined. Since he’d seen enough hospitals in his life, he chose to pass the time seeing GeneRx. As he had never visited a pharmaceutical company, much less one specializing in biopharmaceuticals, he didn’t have anything to compare it to. But there was one thing for certain: He’d never seen quite so many biotech engineers all in the same place, and it seemed as if they were mostly Asian and not just Chinese. There were many Indians as well. And all appeared remarkably young, just like Dr. Lin. The only surprising thing during the tour was going through the gatehouse, which required everyone but Jack to show their ID badges. The process made Jack wonder how many pharmaceutical companies had equivalent security.
But even more impressive than the drug company was the Farm Institute, which was physically attached to GeneRx and in the same architectural style. Since it was the inhabiting transgenic goats, sheep, pigs, cows, and chickens who would be manufacturing all the enormously profitable drugs, they were being treated in high style by an armyof caregivers and veterinarians. Some of the animals were in posh, completely sterile environments. Although Jack wasn’t shown it, he was told the institute even had its own slaughterhouse, despite it sitting empty ninety-nine percent of the time, and also a miniature rendering plant to recycle the protein. The whole operation was entirely self-contained.
When the tour was over, they returned to the hospital parking lot, where it was quickly decided that two cars should be taken for the trip to Zhao’s home. Stephen would drive his own, with the idea that Jack would be staying longer than the others. After a short discussion, it was determined that Ted would ride with Jack, and Han would go with Stephen.
With that decided, they were on their way, driving north on Lake Denmark Road. At first Jack tried to keep up with Stephen, but it quickly became obvious Stephen drove significantly faster on the curvy, rural road with his Porsche Panamera than Jack in Warren’s top-heavy Escalade. And with Ted in the car for directions if needed, Jack was content to fall behind. There was no reason to hurry. The scenery was a bit of autumnal splendor similar to what Jack recalled from his childhood in Indiana. Except for Central Park, New York City was not a place to appreciate fall colors.
“This area is a lot less developed than I would have imagined,” Jack said, looking out at the stretches of apparently virgin hardwood forest interspersed with rolling hills and small lakes that again recalled Warren’s laconic description of the area.
