Gavin’s desk was empty except for an inset keypad and a rack of data pebbles. The wall behind was covered with photos: Gavin in a hardhat, Gavin with presidents, Gavin winning awards, Gavin anchoring a relay team, Gavin peering into a microscope. The self-proclaimed Renaissance man.
He motioned for me to sit. He himself sank into something befitting an emperor and folded his hands across his chest. He stared at me, waiting for me to start. Do not waste my time , the placid gaze said.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.
“Morris Crandall is a good friend, and an important employee.” He opened his palms. “Anything I can do.” He had the eyes of a hawk, dark and glassy.
“Ms. Struldbrug said he was working on a project related to the Shift,” I started.
A nod. “Analyzing reborn and normal DNA.”
“So you believe the cause of the Shift is genetic? I’m hearing a lot of talk about how time has reversed itself. The Enders think this is Armageddon.”
Gavin repressed a pained look. “I know the world prefers to believe in fairy tales, to buy clocks that run backwards and dress in antique clothing. But when we finally unravel this, it will turn out to be perfectly rational, and perfectly scientific.”
“Okay. So what has happened?”
Gavin drummed his fingers on the table. “We don’t have all the components, of course…”
“So give me what you do have.”
“It’s quite technical. And I’m not sure it’s germane.” His smile was laced with contempt. This guy had you instantly pegged, based on your alma mater and the height of your IQ. Which put me around the level of an amoeba.
“Why don’t you let me decide what’s germane? Unless you have some reason to distrust me. Perhaps you’d like to speak to one of my friends on the force to establish my credentials?”
Gavin looked like I was an impertinent fly he wanted to swat. “You have no friends on the force, Mr. Donner. Except perhaps your old partner. And he is terrified of you. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
He’d taken my bait and revealed that someone—Nicole, her brother Adam, or Gavin himself—had had me investigated. These people either had a lot to protect or a lot to hide—or both. I looked at Gavin hard enough for his smugness to falter. “I guess my report to Ms. Struldbrug will be that you were uncooperative.”
He shifted hotly in his throne. “It appears I’m going to give a science lesson this morning.”
“I was good in science.”
“Obviously,” sighed Gavin, “the Shift is tied to the biology of aging.”
I shrugged. “Obviously.”
“For centuries, scientists have been trying to fashion theories of aging that explained the process. In the 19th century, it was the ‘things fall apart’ theory.”
“We’re just machines. Which eventually break down.”
“Very good. The 20th century brought new theories of aging. The biological clock theory, which asserts that the body has a built-in, pre-set lifespan limit. Then, for a while, it was popular to view aging as a disease, something that could eventually be cured. As most solutions are, it was too simplistic. Some aging processes do resemble that of a disease, but we think the body also has built-in regulators that enforce a lifespan limit.”
“Which is?”
“The maximum lifespan for homo sapiens , we think, is around 122 years, give or take.”
“So the ‘things fall apart’ theory is wrong, then?”
Gavin shook his head. “None of them are wrong, per se, just incomplete. The body does fall apart. Not surprising, considering it’s under constant attack.”
“Attack?”
“You’ve heard of free radicals?”
“Yeah. They’re bad.”
“Most people don’t realize the delicious irony that oxygen, the thing that sustains us, is also slowly killing us.”
“Huh?”
“The most dangerous free radicals are oxygen-centered.”
“So while oxygen keeps our lungs pumping, it’s also slowly killing us? ”
He nodded. “Oxidized free
He motioned for me to sit. He himself sank into something befitting an emperor and folded his hands across his chest. He stared at me, waiting for me to start. Do not waste my time , the placid gaze said.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.
“Morris Crandall is a good friend, and an important employee.” He opened his palms. “Anything I can do.” He had the eyes of a hawk, dark and glassy.
“Ms. Struldbrug said he was working on a project related to the Shift,” I started.
A nod. “Analyzing reborn and normal DNA.”
“So you believe the cause of the Shift is genetic? I’m hearing a lot of talk about how time has reversed itself. The Enders think this is Armageddon.”
Gavin repressed a pained look. “I know the world prefers to believe in fairy tales, to buy clocks that run backwards and dress in antique clothing. But when we finally unravel this, it will turn out to be perfectly rational, and perfectly scientific.”
“Okay. So what has happened?”
Gavin drummed his fingers on the table. “We don’t have all the components, of course…”
“So give me what you do have.”
“It’s quite technical. And I’m not sure it’s germane.” His smile was laced with contempt. This guy had you instantly pegged, based on your alma mater and the height of your IQ. Which put me around the level of an amoeba.
“Why don’t you let me decide what’s germane? Unless you have some reason to distrust me. Perhaps you’d like to speak to one of my friends on the force to establish my credentials?”
Gavin looked like I was an impertinent fly he wanted to swat. “You have no friends on the force, Mr. Donner. Except perhaps your old partner. And he is terrified of you. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
He’d taken my bait and revealed that someone—Nicole, her brother Adam, or Gavin himself—had had me investigated. These people either had a lot to protect or a lot to hide—or both. I looked at Gavin hard enough for his smugness to falter. “I guess my report to Ms. Struldbrug will be that you were uncooperative.”
He shifted hotly in his throne. “It appears I’m going to give a science lesson this morning.”
“I was good in science.”
“Obviously,” sighed Gavin, “the Shift is tied to the biology of aging.”
I shrugged. “Obviously.”
“For centuries, scientists have been trying to fashion theories of aging that explained the process. In the 19th century, it was the ‘things fall apart’ theory.”
“We’re just machines. Which eventually break down.”
“Very good. The 20th century brought new theories of aging. The biological clock theory, which asserts that the body has a built-in, pre-set lifespan limit. Then, for a while, it was popular to view aging as a disease, something that could eventually be cured. As most solutions are, it was too simplistic. Some aging processes do resemble that of a disease, but we think the body also has built-in regulators that enforce a lifespan limit.”
“Which is?”
“The maximum lifespan for homo sapiens , we think, is around 122 years, give or take.”
“So the ‘things fall apart’ theory is wrong, then?”
Gavin shook his head. “None of them are wrong, per se, just incomplete. The body does fall apart. Not surprising, considering it’s under constant attack.”
“Attack?”
“You’ve heard of free radicals?”
“Yeah. They’re bad.”
“Most people don’t realize the delicious irony that oxygen, the thing that sustains us, is also slowly killing us.”
“Huh?”
“The most dangerous free radicals are oxygen-centered.”
“So while oxygen keeps our lungs pumping, it’s also slowly killing us? ”
He nodded. “Oxidized free
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