_Friday, April 10
8:45 P.M.
_
Ellen O'Hara had not left after the day shift ended at six P.M. Instead,
she had told Dr. Van de Vliet that she wanted to reorganize some of the
NIH paper files she kept in her office on the first floor. The truth
was, she had become convinced that the culmination of something deeply
evil was scheduled for later that night.
The evil had begun when Kristen Starr's mother arrived looking for her
and declaring that she'd been kidnapped. Then after Dr. Vee
categorically denied he knew anything about her (a blatant lie),
Kristen was brought back to the institute from wherever she'd been
moved to, and she was visibly changed. She was whisked down to the
subbasement the moment she arrived and immediately sealed off in
intensive care, but it was clear she had no idea who she was or where
she was. Something horrible had happened to her. And maybe it was
imagination, but she no longer even looked like a grown woman.
Then this morning, Bartlett and his Japanese bodyguard brought in the
young man who had accompanied Alexa
Hampton, but he wasn't put through the admissions formalities. Instead
he was taken directly downstairs.
May at the front desk said she thought he was a newspaper reporter
she'd met once when they were on a public-health panel together. That
was when Ellen realized he was Stone Aimes, that feisty medical
columnist for the New York Sentinel.
Now Stone Aimes might be able to save Alexa Hampton.
Dr. Van de Vliet and Debra had carried out a special stem- cell
procedure for her aortic stenosis, the first that they had attempted
for that particular condition. The results, as shown by her file, were
nothing short of astonishing. She'd begun responding in a matter of
hours.
She should be in a room upstairs, so why was she still down in the
subbasement?
Now Ellen O'Hara knew the reason.
She had seen in the file that they were going to perform the Beta
procedure on Alexa Hampton. When they'd performed it on Kristen Starr,
the result was a horrific side effect. And now they were going to do it
again. Tonight.
The criminality that started with Kristen Starr and Katherine Starr was
going to be compounded. She was about to become part of a criminal
conspiracy. She had to put a stop to it.
She was nervous about confronting Van de Vliet, but she didn't know
what she could say that wouldn't sound like an indictment. Still, she
was damned well determined to do it.
If nothing else, it would provide a diversion.
She put away the files and walked out into the dim hallway, then made
her way into the reception area.
"Everything all right, Grace?" she asked the nurse at the desk.
"My, you're working late," came the pleasant reply. "Quiet as a mouse
around here. I guess it'll be even quieter when the clinical trials are
finished. I mean, after the celebrating is over."
"Right." But they're not over, Ellen thought. And there may
_not _be a celebration. "I'm going down to sublevel one. Is Dr. Vee
down there now?"
"I think he's in his office. Everybody else went out for a bite,
probably that diner down the road. I think something's scheduled for
later on. I don't know. Everybody looks kind of worried."
"Well, nobody has said anything to me." They don't need to, she
thought. I saw the file.
She swiped her card through the security slot and got onto the
elevator.
When she stepped off, the laboratory was dark and a light was showing
under Dr. Van de Vliet's office door.
Good. She swiped her card in the reader next to the laboratory air lock
and went in. Another swipe and she was on the elevator down to the
subbasement, where she was not authorized to be.
She went to the second door and slipped her card through the slot,
wondering what she would see.
The room was dark and smelled of alcohol and disinfectant. She quickly
closed the door behind her before turning on the overhead fluorescents.
Alexa Hampton was secured to the bed with restraints, and she appeared
to be sedated, though she did slowly open her eyes as the light
flickered and then stabilized. There was a wheelchair in the corner.
"Ms. Hampton, can you hear me?" she whispered, hoping not to alarm her.
"Do you remember me? I was the one who helped you when you were first
admitted."
She watched as Alexa stared at her for a moment and then quietly
nodded.
"I . . . I want to get out of here." Her eyelids fluttered and then she
closed her eyes again. "But I'm too weak. I can't move."
"You're strapped down, love. Let me help you."
She reached for the Velcro straps and then paused. Was this a decision
she wanted to make?
If I do this, it's the end of my career here. Have I lost my mind? What
will I do after this?
But if I don't try to stop them, God knows what . . . we could all end
up convicted of criminal conspiracy and in prison.
"That reporter friend of yours is here." She pulled open the straps,
then helped Alexa sit up in the bed and swing her legs around. "I'm
going to take you to him."
"It's so horrible," Ally went on. She was settling into the wheelchair
as though she expected it. Then she looked up, her eyes dazed. "Where
are you taking me? 'Reporter'? Do you mean--"
"Like I said I'm moving you into your friend's room."
She rolled her to the door, then stopped and cracked it and peeked out.
"Don't say a word dear," she whispered as she began pushing Alexa down
the hall. There was a pale flickering light under the door at the end.
"Debra and David and the others have all gone out to the diner down the
road and Dr. Vee is in his office, probably running some last-minute
computer simulations. But we need to be quiet."
The fluorescent lights seemed to swirl overhead. This all feels so
familiar, Ally thought. This is where I saw Kristen. Does Ellen know
what happened to her?
"You two have to decide what you want to do."
"Stone? You're sure he's here?"
"Yes," she said "and he's in some kind of battle of wills with Mr.
Bartlett."
When they reached the door at the end she tried it and it was locked.
She pulled out her magnetic card and zipped it through the slot.
As they went through, Ally realized the room was lit only by the glow
of a laptop computer screen.
"Stay here," Ellen said turning to leave. "I'm going to try to talk to
Dr. Vee."
As the door closed Stone finally looked up. He was wearing a sweater
and jeans and had been typing furiously on a Gerex laptop.
"Hey, how're you feeling?" He paused to glance down and save what he'd
been writing, then clicked off the computer.
"I have no idea." Something about him didn't seem quite right. It was
like he was on happy pills or something. "How about you? The last time
I saw you, I was passing out."
"I don't actually remember all that much of what happened after that. I
think I went back to the city. But I feel great now. Like I went
through a dark tunnel and came out the other side. I feel very
different. I don't know what's next, but right now I'm just happy to be
in the middle of the biggest story in the history of medical science."
What's going on with him? she wondered. He's spacey. He has to be on
some kind of drug. What have they done to him?
He closed the laptop, then reached and clicked on a light by the bed.
"Come on. Want to see something incredible? It's a marvel of medical
science, never before happened."
"What--"
"Come with me. I guarantee you've never seen anything like it."
He tossed the laptop onto the bed, then swung his feet around and
settled them onto the floor. She noticed that the room was a pale blue,
with white linoleum. There was a pair of white slippers next to the
bed.
He slipped them on and then opened the door and grabbed her wheelchair.
The hallway felt colder now, yet it was also stifling, as though
someone had drawn the air out of it.
"There's nothing we can do," Stone said.
There was a hint of madness in his voice. It was as if he were trying
to convince himself that he was still sane, and it wasn't working. He
was just barely holding it together.
Then she realized he was about to go into intensive care, where Kristen
had been.
"So Kristen's still here?"
"Oh, you'd better believe it," he said. "She is most definitely still
here."
When they got to the door, he revolved back.
"Ally, you really don't have to see this, you know. Not if you'd rather
. . . Nothing remotely like this is going to happen to you. They
assured me."
What the hell is he talking about?
"On the other hand," he went on, "maybe you should see it. Maybe
everybody in the world should see it. It's so astonishing."
He pushed open the door and rolled her in. Then he reached down and
lifted her to her feet. Standing wasn't that hard, and somehow he had
known that.
The room seemed to be captured in mist, though surely that was her
imagination. Everything must be her imagination.
Kristen was in the corner of the room, in a wheelchair, but now her
body was shriveled. No, shriveled was not the right word. In fact,
there might not be a word to describe the change. Her skin was smooth
and flawless. She didn't look like this the last time Ally saw her and
now she wondered how long ago that actually was. How many hours, or
days?
The bones were the same as always; in her cheeks the underlying
structure was sharp and severe and elegant. But there wasn't enough
flesh on them. They were reminiscent of what happens at puberty, when
the body starts changing in ways that aren't well coordinated.
That was it. Kristen had become a child--it was in her innocent eyes--
except that her body was now the flesh of a child over the bone
structure of an adult.
It scarcely seemed like the same person from the last time. She had
crossed some mystical divide. She was holding a large rag doll--where
did she get that? Ally wondered--and humming the tune of the ditty that
ended with "_Now I know my ABC's. Tell me what you think of me_."
"She can't talk," Stone was saying. "I mean, actually communicate. Or
at least she doesn't seem to want to. I've already tried. But isn't
what's happened incredible? There's never been anything like this in
history. The replacement cells are making her body newer and newer, so
she's getting younger and younger."
Ally walked over, slowly, and tried to take her hand. She was grasping
the doll and she violently pulled back.
"Hey," she said, trying to muster a matter-of-fact air, "how's it
going? Do you remember me?"
"I don't think she recognizes you," Stone said in a stage whisper. "I
wish I knew more about the biology of the brain, but I think there's
some kind of aggressive replacement of memory synapses under way. I
think it's one of those LIFO things. Last in/first out. She's
regressing chronologically, but in reverse. Maybe she's lost use of
language, the way Alzheimer's patients do. I don't know."
Ally felt herself near to tears. "Van de Vliet was going to use
antibodies from me to try to . . . something."
"That was always a long shot," he said. "But now the preliminary tests
he's just done on you indicate that the level of enzyme in you can be
controlled very accurately. He's very excited."
She turned back to him. "How do you know all this?"
"I've become part of the story, Ally. That's not supposed to happen,
but this is the only way to get it all firsthand. I have to live it.
And guess what, I now know enough to write the book I've been waiting
all my life to write. I have the punch line."
"Which is?"
"Stem cell technology goes to the very origin of life, and it may turn
out that for once Mother Nature can be fooled. Dr. Vee's venturing into
areas now where even he doesn't know what's going on. Ally, what's
happening in this room is the biggest medical story since . . . Nothing
begins to compare."
Stone had lost it. There was true madness about him now.
She walked back over to Kristen and leaned over and
kissed her. Kristen stared at her in unfocused confusion, but then she
smiled.
"I'm alone in here. Will you take me outside? I want to find my
mother."
The voice was that of a five-year-old and it sent a chill through
Alexa. The "grown-up" memory cells in her brain had been replaced by
blanks. It was "last in/first out" and thirty-plus years of life
experience were being replaced with brand-new nothingness.
The Syndrome. Time had to move in one direction or the other. The body
either went forward or in reverse. There was no equilibrium.
Then she had a further thought. Winston Bartlett was not going to let
this Beta disaster run to its natural conclusion-- a horrifying exposure
to the world. He was going to intervene. Kristen was not about to leave
this room in her current condition. Either she left cured--which seemed
wholly implausible at this point--or she departed in a manner that left
no trace.
Then yet another thought crossed her befuddled mind. She and Stone knew
about Kristen. What does that mean for us?
"Stone, we can't leave her here."
"What are you proposing we do?" he queried. "Take her to an ER
somewhere? Frankly, I don't know how you would describe her problem to
an emergency room admissions staffer."
"I'll think of something."
"By the way, Ally, so you should know, she's wearing diapers. This is
the real deal."
"And how do you figure in all this?"
"I told you. I'm going to be the James Boswell of stem cell technology.
I'm going to report on this miracle from the inside. But now, Ally, if
the Beta procedure is going to succeed you have to be the one to make
it happen."
She looked at him, still stunned by the wildness in his eyes.
And she had a feeling like her heart was being wrenched out.
"You're working with them, aren't you?" She was fuming with anger. She
no longer knew who could be trusted. He'd taken leave of his senses. Or
had his senses been taken from him? Which was it?
"I'm thinking about you. And hopefully about us. You're being offered
something you'd be a fool to turn down. That's all I have to say." He
took her hand and helped her back into the wheelchair. Then he
whispered, "Let's get out of here."
He quickly opened the door and rolled her out into the empty hall. When
he closed the door behind them, he whispered again. "Didn't you see the
surveillance camera and microphone in there? There's one in the room
where they had me locked up. They just put them in."
"To watch Kristen?"
"And me. I heard Bartlett and Van de Vliet talking. If any of this Beta
screw-up with her gets out of this building, Bartlett's conglomerate is
toast." He bent over near to her and continued whispering. "Listen, we
don't have much time. They've got your procedure scheduled for later on
tonight. I'm still somewhat of a zombie from something they gave me,
but maybe I can help get you out of here. Let me tell you what I've
found out so far. Van de Vliet gave you a low-dosage version of the
Beta procedure, in hopes he could harvest telomerase antibodies and use
them on Bartlett. But there was only a trace. He did inject those into
Bartlett, but he doesn't think it's enough to have any effect. So now
Bartlett is demanding he give you a massive dose of telomerase. Van de
Vliet is freaked about the risks, but Bartlett thinks it's his only
chance to head off having what happened to Kristen happen to him too.
However, what Bartlett doesn't know is that Van de Vliet has just
finished a new computer simulation and he thinks he's finally figured
out how to do a successful Beta procedure. For him, that's the Holy
Grail."
"How do you know all this?"
"I heard him talking to his assistant Debra. I was supposed to be
sedated. The reason he wants to perform it on you is because he now has
so much data on you, as a result of the first procedure. He thinks he's
got a real shot at redemption. Ally, if he's calculated wrong, you
could end up like Kristen."
"What about you?" she asked. "You should get out too."
"I should, but . . . Look, I've been trying to get in here for a long
time. Now I'm finally in. You could say I'm under duress, but I'm here
and this is where it's happening. If I get out alive, I have a hell of
a story."
Is he thinking clearly? she wondered. He seems to be drifting in and
out of a mental cloud. What is wrong with him?
"Stone, there's an emergency door on the first level of the basement.
If we can get up there, we might be able to escape. And while we're
doing it, you might want to seriously reconsider staying in this place.
We've both seen Kristen. What makes you think they're planning on
either of us ever living to tell that tale?"
"I'm having some trouble thinking just now." He was helping her out of
the wheelchair. "But I do know you've got to disappear. Whatever plans
they have for me remain to be seen, but I know exactly what's in store
for you. So come on and try to walk. We can't use the elevator, but
there's a fire door at the other end of the hall, which leads up to the
lab floor."
It's probably alarmed, she thought. Then what do we do?
Walking was easier than she'd expected. The strength was rapidly coming
back in her legs. But more than that, there was no sense of tightness
in her chest as she might have expected. She was always aware of traces
of stenosis, but now she felt nothing. Maybe there were miracles.
The hallway was dimly lit, and she wondered, Is a surveillance camera
tracking our every move?
"Shit," Stone announced when they reached the fire door, "it's
alarmed."
That's exactly what I was afraid of, she thought.
"Any chance they're bluffing?"
"Don't think so." He pointed. "That little red diode says it's hot."
God, she thought we've got to get out of here. "Maybe we could just
make a dash for it?"
He looked at her and shook his head. "Like you're in shape to dash? No,
what's called for is stealth."
He was pulling out his wallet. "The thing about these card readers,
some of them, like those that get you into bank ATMs, sometimes will
open for other cards. I've got four kinds of plastic. Might as well
give them a try."
"Well, just hurry." She leaned against the wall. "I'm starting to get
weak."
He slipped his Visa through and nothing happened. He immediately tried
MasterCard. Again nothing.
"Maybe I should try my all-purpose bankcard." He slipped a Chase
plastic through, but once more nothing happened.
"This isn't working, Stone." She sighed, feeling her legs weaken as she
clasped the wall. "I think we're going to have to chance the elevator."
"Don't give up yet." He took out his American Express, kissed it and
swiped it through. "One last shot."
The red diode blinked off.
"Never leave home without it," she whispered.
"We will now proceed very, very quietly." He carefully pushed open the
door, inches at a time.
The stair had metal steps and was lit by a single fluorescent bulb. As
he helped her up, Ally was wondering if there was any way to extract
her mother too. She couldn't imagine how she could do it and besides,
Nina might well refuse to go.
No, just get out and make Stone understand that no way was Winston
Bartlett going to let him go free to tell the story of Kristen. He
clearly wasn't thinking with all cylinders.
Stone Aimes was about to disappear, just like Kristen had.
The entry to the laboratory level was also alarmed, but American
Express once again saved the day. When they pushed open the door,
however, the lights were on in the office at the far end of the
hallway.
Where's that door that Grant was going to use to get me out? she
wondered. Then she saw a door marked EXIT next to Van de Vliet's office.
Shit, it's all the way at the opposite end of the hall.
"Stone, we have to get to that door before anybody sees us. I don't
know if it's alarmed or not, but that's the ball game." She reached for
his hand. "If we can get there and get out, please come with me. We can
make it to the highway. You can't stay here."
"Let's get you out. Then we'll talk."
"I'll drag you if I have to."
As they moved quietly along the wall, they could hear an argument under
way. She recognized the voices as Ellen 'Hara's and Karl Van de
Vliet's.
"I won't allow my staff to be part of this," Ellen was declaring. "I've
seen Kristen. Any form of the Beta is dangerous. If you do anything
involving that procedure again, you'll put everybody here at risk."
"Don't you think I've thought about that, agonized about it? We have
one chance to turn all this around. This is it."
"I don't want to be involved and I don't want any of my people involved
do you hear me?"
"Then keep them upstairs." He was striding out of his office, flipping
on the lights in the hallway.
"Oh shit," Ally whispered. She opened a door and pulled Stone into the
examining room, where her mother had first been admitted. Just as she
did she heard the ding of the elevator and caught a glimpse of Debra
and David Van de Vliet's senior researchers, getting off.
When she closed the door, the room should have been pitch black. But it
wasn't. A candle was burning on a counter and there was a figure at the
far end of the room.
He was sitting on the examining table, in the lotus position, his eyes
closed.
"Are you ready?" Kenji Noda asked. "I think just about everyone is here
now."
Oh my God, Ally thought. What are we going to do?
She watched helplessly as he reached over and touched a button on the
desk. A red light popped on above the door. A moment later, it opened.
"What are you doing here?" Debra asked, staring at them.
"Getting some exercise," Stone said.
Then Winston Bartlett appeared in the doorway behind her.
"How did they get up here?"
"Ally, I'm not going to let them do this to you," Stone declared,
seizing her hand. "We're going to--"
"Ken, please get him out of here," Bartlett said. 'Take him back
downstairs, anywhere."
"You shouldn't be out of your wheelchair," Debra was saying. She turned
to Ellen. "Would you get--"
"I'm not getting you anything," Ellen O'Hara declared. "I've just
submitted my resignation. Effective three minutes ago. I don't know a
thing about what's going on here and, from now on, I don't want to
know."
She got on the elevator and the door closed.
"Ken," Bartlett said, "first things first. Go after that woman. Don't
let her leave the building."
Now Debra was rolling in a wheelchair. David had appeared also, deep
disquiet in his eyes, and he helped her in.
"There's very little risk to this," he said. "Believe me."
She felt him giving her an injection in her left arm.
No, don't . . .
As the room started to spin, she reached out and grabbed Stone's arm
and pulled him down to her.
"Downstairs," she whispered. "Look around. There's--"
She didn't get to finish because Debra was whisking her out the door
and toward the laboratory. Stone had just grinned confusedly, seemingly
not paying any attention to what she was saying. Instead he ambled
toward the open stair door and disappeared.
At this point, however, no one appeared to notice or to care. They were
rolling her through the steel air lock. On the other side, Winston
Bartlett was already waiting, standing next to a gurney with straps.
No!