hastily, were segments of DNA— [69] nu cleotides, to be exact—that appeared to contain no useful genetic information. There were various competing theories as to what purpose they actually served, including the notion that they were nothing more than microbiological filler. I can probably B.S. my way through this particular question, she thought, but I’ve got to find a way to turn this chat around, before the old guy catches me on something stupid.
“Wait a second,” she protested. “What’s with the third degree? To be honest, I’d like to know a little more about this project of yours before I submit to some sort of entrance exam.”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” an abashed Takagi insisted unconvincingly. “Please believe me, we thought we were just talking shop, not conducting some sort of interrogation. Good heavens, no.”
Takagi probably would have kept on burbling denials, but Lozinak held up his hand, silencing the younger man. “No, Dr. Neary is correct. This was indeed a—how you say it?—an interrogation.” He gave Roberta a penetrating stare. “Forgive an old man his suspicions, but there is much at stake, and it is important that we be certain that you are for real what you appear to be.”
“Look who’s talking ... Dr. Lozinak,” Roberta said, letting the elderly scientist’s true name out into the open. Takagi’s jaw nearly dropped into his salad, but Lozinak himself merely nodded and scratched his chin, examining Roberta with a new mixture of respect and wariness.
Blowing the old man’s cover was a calculated risk, but it was the best way she could think of to turn the tables and place Lozinak on the defensive instead. “Did you really think,” she continued, “that I wouldn’t recognize the celebrated Dr. Viktor Lozinak? Come on!”
He smiled ruefully and removed his glasses, placing them upon the tabletop. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid. The others, they said it was too dangerous for me to come to Rome in person, but I was certain I could keep a sunken silhouette.”
“Low profile,” Roberta corrected him. “So where have you been for the last several months?” she asked, going for broke. “Aren’t you supposed to be missing or something?”
Lozinak sighed and shrugged his shoulders; evidently, he felt that [70] matters had gone too far to hold back now. “You must understand, my American friend, that there are many people in this world, some of them highly placed in government, that are very afraid of where science has brought us. They hear ‘genetic engineering’ and they think eugenics and Hitler and Frankenstein. We who wish to lift mankind to a new level of advancement, by rewriting the genetic code that makes us what we are, must do our work in great secret.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Roberta pretended to commiserate. “Trust me, I’ve heard every single ‘mad doctor’ crack there is, sometimes from my own colleagues at the U.W.”
Lozinak shook his head mournfully. “It is no joking matter. If the people and their political leaders knew how far we have come, they would take drastic measures to halt our work. That is why my colleagues and I have been forced to go—what is the expression, beneath blankets?”
“Undercover,” Roberta supplied, being extremely familiar with the concept.
“Yes, undercover, thank you,” the venerable Ukrainian researcher continued. “We must go into hiding, conduct our work out of the world’s sight, and conceal our progress even from our fellow scientists, such as yourself.”
“What progress?” she pressed him, wishing she’d thought to carry a concealed recording device on her person. Seven would want to hear all about this. “How far have you gone?”
There was another long pause as Lozinak once again considered how much to divulge. Roberta held her breath, as did Takagi, and she wanted to scream in frustration when their waiter chose that minute to return bearing their entrees,
“Wait a second,” she protested. “What’s with the third degree? To be honest, I’d like to know a little more about this project of yours before I submit to some sort of entrance exam.”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” an abashed Takagi insisted unconvincingly. “Please believe me, we thought we were just talking shop, not conducting some sort of interrogation. Good heavens, no.”
Takagi probably would have kept on burbling denials, but Lozinak held up his hand, silencing the younger man. “No, Dr. Neary is correct. This was indeed a—how you say it?—an interrogation.” He gave Roberta a penetrating stare. “Forgive an old man his suspicions, but there is much at stake, and it is important that we be certain that you are for real what you appear to be.”
“Look who’s talking ... Dr. Lozinak,” Roberta said, letting the elderly scientist’s true name out into the open. Takagi’s jaw nearly dropped into his salad, but Lozinak himself merely nodded and scratched his chin, examining Roberta with a new mixture of respect and wariness.
Blowing the old man’s cover was a calculated risk, but it was the best way she could think of to turn the tables and place Lozinak on the defensive instead. “Did you really think,” she continued, “that I wouldn’t recognize the celebrated Dr. Viktor Lozinak? Come on!”
He smiled ruefully and removed his glasses, placing them upon the tabletop. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid. The others, they said it was too dangerous for me to come to Rome in person, but I was certain I could keep a sunken silhouette.”
“Low profile,” Roberta corrected him. “So where have you been for the last several months?” she asked, going for broke. “Aren’t you supposed to be missing or something?”
Lozinak sighed and shrugged his shoulders; evidently, he felt that [70] matters had gone too far to hold back now. “You must understand, my American friend, that there are many people in this world, some of them highly placed in government, that are very afraid of where science has brought us. They hear ‘genetic engineering’ and they think eugenics and Hitler and Frankenstein. We who wish to lift mankind to a new level of advancement, by rewriting the genetic code that makes us what we are, must do our work in great secret.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Roberta pretended to commiserate. “Trust me, I’ve heard every single ‘mad doctor’ crack there is, sometimes from my own colleagues at the U.W.”
Lozinak shook his head mournfully. “It is no joking matter. If the people and their political leaders knew how far we have come, they would take drastic measures to halt our work. That is why my colleagues and I have been forced to go—what is the expression, beneath blankets?”
“Undercover,” Roberta supplied, being extremely familiar with the concept.
“Yes, undercover, thank you,” the venerable Ukrainian researcher continued. “We must go into hiding, conduct our work out of the world’s sight, and conceal our progress even from our fellow scientists, such as yourself.”
“What progress?” she pressed him, wishing she’d thought to carry a concealed recording device on her person. Seven would want to hear all about this. “How far have you gone?”
There was another long pause as Lozinak once again considered how much to divulge. Roberta held her breath, as did Takagi, and she wanted to scream in frustration when their waiter chose that minute to return bearing their entrees,
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