use chimpanzee and Neanderthal DNA in people?”
“I’m not involved in the medical aspects of—”
“Isn’t that what we’re talking about? Splicing animal genes into human beings?”
“Yes,” Emily said as the lights flickered.
Everyone looked up. Several of the camera and sound crews frowned at their equipment. Emily already had a stomach full of butterflies. Now her thoughts turned paranoid.
What’s happening?
she thought, and yet she soldiered on.
“Microscopic amounts of clean, tailored genetic material can be used to provide people with healthier lives,” she said. “It’s sterile andpainless, like a flu shot. There’s no reason to be afraid. In any case, our gene therapies are somewhere in the future. It might be years. What we’ve accomplished so far is to establish a broad knowledge base of disease-prone and corrective sequences.”
“But your database could be used to screen for those disease-prone sequences right now, couldn’t it?” the reporter asked. “And, uh, selecting children based on how they score?”
Selecting
was code for
aborting,
Emily realized. Numbly, she hoped her dad hadn’t been able to find the right channel in her parents’ house in Santa Barbara. Otherwise her mom had probably fallen out of her chair.
“I’m sorry, who are you with?” she asked. She wanted the reporter to say FOX News or
Christian Family Digest,
anything to taint his accusations with the mark of the religious right. He ignored her, scribbling in his notebook as the media director signaled Emily and leaned toward the podium.
“Let’s focus on some of the incredible technology Doctor Flint has been using,” the media director said.
Emily stepped back with relief.
“Projects of this scope often begin with Illumina sequencing equipment and Fibonacci structural mass spectrometers,” the media director said. “Our first goal is to…”
Emily barely heard, looking at the back of the room.
Staring at the belligerent reporter, Laura’s spectacular blue eyes were drawn into angry slits. Emily thought she also saw disgust in the face of a female reporter. Did this woman know someone who was sick or handicapped? If she was a science writer, she probably dealt with goons all the time.
It must be aggravating to watch these events taken over by people with repressive agendas,
Emily thought.
Her mother was among those who called themselves pro-life. Despite having married Emily’s father, who was less devout, almostindifferent to organized religion, Jana Flint opposed abortion rights and also spoke out against contraception. Maybe her ardency on these topics had been fueled by her shame at falling in love with someone outside the Church.
Emily’s faith was a quieter thing. She didn’t believe what she was doing was wrong or evil. If every speck in the universe was God’s creation, studying His workmanship must be part of the mystery. Free will and intelligence weren’t traps to avoid. They were gifts. And yet…
What if other people used her data in ugly ways?
Finally, the press conference was over. Ray and the media director wanted to compare notes in a private office, but Emily asked for a minute in the kitchenette with her sister.
“You did the right thing, Em. You really did.” Laura hugged both Emily and P.J.
Inside, Emily felt as stiff as the boy.
I hope you’re right,
she thought, wondering how many women would give birth to autistic children while DNAllied suppressed her vaccine.
Breathing in Laura’s perfume, she remembered the prenatal visits to which she’d accompanied her sister. Neither of them doubted Laura’s baby would be perfect. The worst health concerns in their family were three aunts with high blood pressure. That hadn’t stopped the OB/GYN from encouraging Laura to undergo standard screening for conditions such as Down syndrome or spina bifida. Unprompted, the OB/GYN had also given them the hard sell with a story about her cousin whose son had
“I’m not involved in the medical aspects of—”
“Isn’t that what we’re talking about? Splicing animal genes into human beings?”
“Yes,” Emily said as the lights flickered.
Everyone looked up. Several of the camera and sound crews frowned at their equipment. Emily already had a stomach full of butterflies. Now her thoughts turned paranoid.
What’s happening?
she thought, and yet she soldiered on.
“Microscopic amounts of clean, tailored genetic material can be used to provide people with healthier lives,” she said. “It’s sterile andpainless, like a flu shot. There’s no reason to be afraid. In any case, our gene therapies are somewhere in the future. It might be years. What we’ve accomplished so far is to establish a broad knowledge base of disease-prone and corrective sequences.”
“But your database could be used to screen for those disease-prone sequences right now, couldn’t it?” the reporter asked. “And, uh, selecting children based on how they score?”
Selecting
was code for
aborting,
Emily realized. Numbly, she hoped her dad hadn’t been able to find the right channel in her parents’ house in Santa Barbara. Otherwise her mom had probably fallen out of her chair.
“I’m sorry, who are you with?” she asked. She wanted the reporter to say FOX News or
Christian Family Digest,
anything to taint his accusations with the mark of the religious right. He ignored her, scribbling in his notebook as the media director signaled Emily and leaned toward the podium.
“Let’s focus on some of the incredible technology Doctor Flint has been using,” the media director said.
Emily stepped back with relief.
“Projects of this scope often begin with Illumina sequencing equipment and Fibonacci structural mass spectrometers,” the media director said. “Our first goal is to…”
Emily barely heard, looking at the back of the room.
Staring at the belligerent reporter, Laura’s spectacular blue eyes were drawn into angry slits. Emily thought she also saw disgust in the face of a female reporter. Did this woman know someone who was sick or handicapped? If she was a science writer, she probably dealt with goons all the time.
It must be aggravating to watch these events taken over by people with repressive agendas,
Emily thought.
Her mother was among those who called themselves pro-life. Despite having married Emily’s father, who was less devout, almostindifferent to organized religion, Jana Flint opposed abortion rights and also spoke out against contraception. Maybe her ardency on these topics had been fueled by her shame at falling in love with someone outside the Church.
Emily’s faith was a quieter thing. She didn’t believe what she was doing was wrong or evil. If every speck in the universe was God’s creation, studying His workmanship must be part of the mystery. Free will and intelligence weren’t traps to avoid. They were gifts. And yet…
What if other people used her data in ugly ways?
Finally, the press conference was over. Ray and the media director wanted to compare notes in a private office, but Emily asked for a minute in the kitchenette with her sister.
“You did the right thing, Em. You really did.” Laura hugged both Emily and P.J.
Inside, Emily felt as stiff as the boy.
I hope you’re right,
she thought, wondering how many women would give birth to autistic children while DNAllied suppressed her vaccine.
Breathing in Laura’s perfume, she remembered the prenatal visits to which she’d accompanied her sister. Neither of them doubted Laura’s baby would be perfect. The worst health concerns in their family were three aunts with high blood pressure. That hadn’t stopped the OB/GYN from encouraging Laura to undergo standard screening for conditions such as Down syndrome or spina bifida. Unprompted, the OB/GYN had also given them the hard sell with a story about her cousin whose son had
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