found out."
Aiken was silent for a beat. "I was told this was an emergency."
"You never told me. You said Paul's DNA matched Steven's exactly. You said there was no difference. I still have your letter, you know. Were you hoping I'd forget?"
"Mr. Griffin, you're obviously upset about something. Perhaps you should calm down and --"
"Dyslexia is genetic, isn't it?"
"I beg your --"
"
Isn't it
?"
Another beat. "There's evidence to suggest that, yes. Dyslexia tends to run in families. But the specific gene has never been identified."
"And you told me that Steven and Paul were genetic duplicates."
"They are. Paul was cloned from Steven's --"
"Steven was not dyslexic!
But Paul is. Do you hear me, you son of a bitch? Do you understand what I'm saying?" The more he thought about it, the more enraged he became. "You botched the cloning. And then you tried to cover it up. But it wasn't just your ass on the line, you know. Three lives have been ruined by your negligence. If you had owned up to it --"
"Mr. Griffin." His voice became stern, authoritative. "You've just gotten some distressing news. You're not thinking clearly. Perhaps that's understandable. But you need to listen to me very carefully, before you say or do anything else."
John smiled, though he knew Aiken couldn't see it. "Go ahead. This ought to be good."
Dr. Aiken cleared his throat. "Even if it were proved that dyslexia is caused by a genetic defect -- and I stress the
if
-- even so, that's not proof Paul's DNA was somehow damaged or altered during the cloning process. For all we know, Steven was dyslexic, too."
"That's ridiculous."
"Not at all. What you need to understand is that the signs of developmental reading disability aren't always immediately apparent. Some dyslexic patients can learn early reading and spelling skills. And the clever ones can conceal the symptoms even longer."
"
Conceal
them? Steven was just a child."
"Did you never help him with his reading? Did you never complete a word for him when he hesitated on it?"
John opened his mouth to retort, then hesitated, frowning. Of
course
he had done that; every parent did.
"Children can sometimes manipulate teachers and parents into doing the work for them. There are other tricks, too. And don't underestimate the power of brute-force memorization, when all else fails. If my guess is right, Steven likely wouldn't have been able to conceal it much longer. But children can do amazing things when they're strongly motivated. Given that Steven had a writer for a father --"
"That's enough."
"Mr. Griffin, I should never have allowed you to talk me into doing that DNA comparison. I had hoped it would put your mind at rest. Clearly, the opposite has happened. I'll say this to you one last time: the results of the comparison will stand up to the highest scrutiny. Steven and Paul are genetically identical. You'll be much better off if you accept that fact, rather than making unsupported accusations of negligence."
"I may do more than make accusations. I may do a great deal more than that. You can expect a call from my attorney."
"You --"
John disconnected. He resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the parking lot.
September 30, 2039
Too agitated to think straight, so I've pulled out my handheld and tried to make some sense of all this. I've passed the last several hours looking through old entries in this diary. God, the signs of Paul's disorder were apparent long ago. His screaming fit in the car when he was four years old stands out in my memory, as clearly as the day it happened.
All this time, all these years. Finally, the façade begins to crack. Finally, some glimmer of hope that I will be vindicated.
I've set up a meeting next week with my attorney. Between now and then, I'll have to assemble as much supporting documentation as I can. I'm sure all those DNA comparisons I've had done will work against me. But Paul's dyslexia can't be refuted, and neither can his history of antisocial
Aiken was silent for a beat. "I was told this was an emergency."
"You never told me. You said Paul's DNA matched Steven's exactly. You said there was no difference. I still have your letter, you know. Were you hoping I'd forget?"
"Mr. Griffin, you're obviously upset about something. Perhaps you should calm down and --"
"Dyslexia is genetic, isn't it?"
"I beg your --"
"
Isn't it
?"
Another beat. "There's evidence to suggest that, yes. Dyslexia tends to run in families. But the specific gene has never been identified."
"And you told me that Steven and Paul were genetic duplicates."
"They are. Paul was cloned from Steven's --"
"Steven was not dyslexic!
But Paul is. Do you hear me, you son of a bitch? Do you understand what I'm saying?" The more he thought about it, the more enraged he became. "You botched the cloning. And then you tried to cover it up. But it wasn't just your ass on the line, you know. Three lives have been ruined by your negligence. If you had owned up to it --"
"Mr. Griffin." His voice became stern, authoritative. "You've just gotten some distressing news. You're not thinking clearly. Perhaps that's understandable. But you need to listen to me very carefully, before you say or do anything else."
John smiled, though he knew Aiken couldn't see it. "Go ahead. This ought to be good."
Dr. Aiken cleared his throat. "Even if it were proved that dyslexia is caused by a genetic defect -- and I stress the
if
-- even so, that's not proof Paul's DNA was somehow damaged or altered during the cloning process. For all we know, Steven was dyslexic, too."
"That's ridiculous."
"Not at all. What you need to understand is that the signs of developmental reading disability aren't always immediately apparent. Some dyslexic patients can learn early reading and spelling skills. And the clever ones can conceal the symptoms even longer."
"
Conceal
them? Steven was just a child."
"Did you never help him with his reading? Did you never complete a word for him when he hesitated on it?"
John opened his mouth to retort, then hesitated, frowning. Of
course
he had done that; every parent did.
"Children can sometimes manipulate teachers and parents into doing the work for them. There are other tricks, too. And don't underestimate the power of brute-force memorization, when all else fails. If my guess is right, Steven likely wouldn't have been able to conceal it much longer. But children can do amazing things when they're strongly motivated. Given that Steven had a writer for a father --"
"That's enough."
"Mr. Griffin, I should never have allowed you to talk me into doing that DNA comparison. I had hoped it would put your mind at rest. Clearly, the opposite has happened. I'll say this to you one last time: the results of the comparison will stand up to the highest scrutiny. Steven and Paul are genetically identical. You'll be much better off if you accept that fact, rather than making unsupported accusations of negligence."
"I may do more than make accusations. I may do a great deal more than that. You can expect a call from my attorney."
"You --"
John disconnected. He resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the parking lot.
September 30, 2039
Too agitated to think straight, so I've pulled out my handheld and tried to make some sense of all this. I've passed the last several hours looking through old entries in this diary. God, the signs of Paul's disorder were apparent long ago. His screaming fit in the car when he was four years old stands out in my memory, as clearly as the day it happened.
All this time, all these years. Finally, the façade begins to crack. Finally, some glimmer of hope that I will be vindicated.
I've set up a meeting next week with my attorney. Between now and then, I'll have to assemble as much supporting documentation as I can. I'm sure all those DNA comparisons I've had done will work against me. But Paul's dyslexia can't be refuted, and neither can his history of antisocial
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