Anthem's Fall

Chapter Thirty One

Three polite knocks.

“Come in,” Professor Vatruvia called, his tone eager. He was sitting comfortably behind multiple computer monitors and a sea of papers. Sunlight streamed across his spacious office through south-facing windows, a striking view of Midtown visible between the tall buildings across the street.

“Morning,” Kristen said, taking a seat in a chair across from him.

“I wanted to give you a brief heads-up before we start the meeting today. I’ve—well, we’ve—made another big step forward.”

“Really? How so?” Kristen feigned surprise, her expression utterly placid.

Professor Vatruvia’s face broke into a sly, triumphant smile, and he turned one of the high definition monitors to face her. Kristen was suddenly taken aback as though someone had leapt out from a hiding place.

“Oh . . . my . . . god.” She heard herself stammer.

On the monitor were a series of images taken by a microscopic camera. Depicted were the several stages of an animal cell replicating. Yet after a moment’s examination it was clear the combining cells were not animal cells at all. Kristen could tell by the slightly unusual arrangement of the cell structures.

It was a Vatruvian cell.

“The Vatruvian cell can replicate.” Kristen spoke the words slowly, her voice almost a groan.

“It can.”

Kristen could feel her insides sink like a heavy stone. This was exactly what she had feared. Unable to hide her emotions, she buried her face in her palms. Already, drastic possibilities were starting to form in her mind’s eye. If the Vatruvian cell could replicate, it could possess the capability to form a complex structure. Tissues, organs, full organ systems.

“What do you think?” Professor Vatruvia asked.

“I think there’s a lot you haven’t been telling me.” Kristen ventured. “And I don’t want to get ahead of myself here, but anyone who has even a layman’s understanding of biological systems will realize the implications of this. If the Vatruvian cell can replicate, it’s possible it can give rise to structures of substantially higher complexity.”

Professor Vatruvia regarded her thoughtfully. “I agree.”

“Professor,” Kristen tried to keep her mind from jumping to conclusions, to focus on what was at hand.

“Yes?”

“I thought we were only modeling the Vatruvian cells after unicellular microorganisms. Individual cells. Prokaryotes like bacteria, and so on.”

“We were.”

“Not only am I looking at a nucleus, I’m looking at an animal Vatruvian cell on that monitor. I wouldn’t call animals single-celled organisms.”

“Well, we were only working with simple microorganisms. I had to expand the research beyond those crude single cells at some point. We didn’t create this technology to have some functionless synthetic bacteria sitting on a test slide.”

“But we didn’t create the Vatruvian cell to be a type of mirrored cloning either. We, or I, had hoped to increase the efficiency of preexisting cells so they might benefit people. Our goal was to bestow efficiency, to improve efficacy, not to create. An animal Vatruvian cell means a biological animal cell must have been used as a template.”

Professor Vatruvia said nothing. He stared at the computer screen in silent wonder.

“What animal was used? What type of cell was copied?” Kristen found herself angry as she was forced to jar him from his thoughts.

“A mouse,” he said.

Kristen dragged her chair closer to the desk. She scrutinized the microscopic images for a long moment. The Vatruvian cells on the monitor were not entirely unlike the slides shown in any given high school biology class. Yet at the same time they were so very different, so crucially different.

“Professor.”

“Yes?”

“You honestly don’t see a distinction between using our technology to replicate unicellular organisms, and using it to replicate mammalian cells?”

He looked at her disapprovingly. “Not in the slightest. Kristen, you and I both know you saw this coming. Please don’t pretend you’re surprised. It was your work on the genetic structuring that acted as the foundation for this progress.”

Professor Vatruvia was right. They both knew it.

“Of course I thought this was a possibility, maybe even an inevitability. But I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it.” Kristen looked down at his desk in thought. She had to choose her words delicately. “It’s just that, well, doesn’t the Vatruvian cell seem like an inherently dangerous technology?”

“What do you possibly mean?” Professor Vatruvia looked suddenly startled.

“Maybe not dangerous per se, but . . .” Kristen took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes with the knuckles of her fingers. She could not tell if he was dissembling ignorance or genuinely naive to her fears. “Look. It’s just you and me in here. I’m going to speak freely, okay?”

“By all means.”

“We are creating something we really know nothing about.”

“Know nothing about? We know everything about Vatruvian cell technology, you and I, and what we haven’t already figured out, we will soon learn. Look at the screen. Progress!” He paused, taking effort to compose himself. “Let’s move one step at a time here, Kristen. I think you are getting much too far ahead of yourself, ahead of our research.”

Kristen cast him a severe look. “Am I?”

“Yes. You are.” Professor Vatruvia said. Kristen thought he was attempting to perceive her thoughts. After a protracted silence he reached out and turned his monitor back to face him. “How do you think the other members of the team will react?”

“I can’t say for certain. I would hope they feel like they’ve been left out of the loop, which is pretty much how I’m feeling at the moment.”

Professor Vatruvia nodded. Kristen could see he was disappointed by her reaction to the cellular replication, perhaps even unnerved by her objections. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the monitor in contemplative thought.

“You’re right, I suppose . . . one step at a time,” Kristen said in an attempt to soothe his alarm, though she felt the complete opposite. “I have to get back to my transcribing. I’ll see you at the meeting.”

Kristen stood and walked to the doorway. At the threshold she paused but could not think of anything to say. There were far too many questions to ask just one.

“You’re a very clever young woman, Kristen.” Professor Vatruvia rotated his chair away from her and looked out of the window at the passing cars and people on the street below. “I’ll give you that. Don’t think I’m not aware of what you’re thinking.”

Kristen held her ground. “If you know what I’m thinking, then I’ll ask it. Can the Vatruvian cell differentiate? Can it create complex systems?”