Read Online Next: A Novel by Michael Crichton - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Crichton
Tags: Fiction, General, Medical, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, Genetics, Technological, Mutation (Biology)
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feet and saw the silver cylinder. He leaned over, picked up the cylinder. It was light in his hand.
“Adam…”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Josh shook the cylinder. It was empty.
“I thought it was nitrous or something,” his brother said.
“You asshole.”
“Why? It didn’t do anything.”
“It’s for a rat, Adam. You just inhaled virus for a rat.”
Adam slumped back. “Is that bad?”
“It ain’t good.”
By the time Josh pulled up in front of his mother’s house in Beverly Hills, he had thought it through and concluded that there was no danger to Adam. The retrovirus was a mouse-infective strain, and while it might also infect human beings, the dose had been calculated for an animal weighing eight hundred grams. His brother weighed a hundred times as much. The genetic exposure was subclinical.
“So, I’m okay?” Adam said.
“Yeah.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about that,” Adam said, getting out of the car. “But thanks for picking me up. See you, bro.”
“I’ll wait until you get inside,” Josh said. He watched as his brother walked up the drive and knocked on the door. His mother opened it. Adam stepped inside, and she shut the door.
She never even looked at Josh.
He started the engine and drove away.
CH007
At noon, Alex Burnet left her office in her Century City law firm and went home. She didn’t have far to go; she lived in an apartment on Roxbury Park with her eight-year-old son, Jamie.
Jamie had a cold and had stayed home from school. Her father was looking after him for her.
She found her dad in the kitchen, making macaroni and cheese. It was the only thing Jamie would eat these days. “How is he?” she said.
“Fever’s down. Still got a runny nose and a cough.”
“Is he hungry?”
“He wasn’t earlier. But he asked for macaroni.”
“That’s a good sign,” she said. “Should I take over?”
Her father shook his head. “I’ve got it handled. You didn’t have to come home, you know.”
“I know.” She paused. “The judge issued his ruling, Dad.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“And?”
“We lost.”
Her father continued to stir. “We lost everything?”
“Yes,” she said. “We lost on every point. You have no rights to your own tissue. He ruled them
‘material waste’ that you allowed the university to dispose of for you. The court says you have no rights to any of your tissue once it has left your body. The university can do what it wants with it.”
“But they brought me back—”
“He said a reasonable person would have realized the tissues were being collected for commercial use. Therefore you tacitly accepted it.”
“But they told me I was sick.”
“He rejected all our arguments, Dad.”
“They lied to me.”
“I know, but according to the judge, good social policy promotes medical research. Granting you rights now would have a chilling effect on future research. That’s the thinking behind the ruling—the common good.”
“This wasn’t about the common good. It was about getting rich,” her father said. “Jesus, three billion dollars…”
“I know, Dad. Universities want money. And basically, this judge held what California judges have held for the last twenty-five years, ever since the Moore decision in 1980. Just like your case, the court found that Moore’s tissues were waste materials to which he had no right. And they haven’t revisited that question in more than two decades.”
“So what happens now?”
“We appeal,” she said. “I don’t think we have good grounds, but we have to do it before we can go to the California Supreme Court.”
“And when will that be?”
“A year from now.”
“Do we have a chance?” her father said.
“Absolutely not,”Albert Rodriguez said, turning in his chair toward her father. Rodriguez and the other UCLA attorneys had come to Alex’s law offices in the aftermath of the judge’s
“Adam…”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Josh shook the cylinder. It was empty.
“I thought it was nitrous or something,” his brother said.
“You asshole.”
“Why? It didn’t do anything.”
“It’s for a rat, Adam. You just inhaled virus for a rat.”
Adam slumped back. “Is that bad?”
“It ain’t good.”
By the time Josh pulled up in front of his mother’s house in Beverly Hills, he had thought it through and concluded that there was no danger to Adam. The retrovirus was a mouse-infective strain, and while it might also infect human beings, the dose had been calculated for an animal weighing eight hundred grams. His brother weighed a hundred times as much. The genetic exposure was subclinical.
“So, I’m okay?” Adam said.
“Yeah.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about that,” Adam said, getting out of the car. “But thanks for picking me up. See you, bro.”
“I’ll wait until you get inside,” Josh said. He watched as his brother walked up the drive and knocked on the door. His mother opened it. Adam stepped inside, and she shut the door.
She never even looked at Josh.
He started the engine and drove away.
CH007
At noon, Alex Burnet left her office in her Century City law firm and went home. She didn’t have far to go; she lived in an apartment on Roxbury Park with her eight-year-old son, Jamie.
Jamie had a cold and had stayed home from school. Her father was looking after him for her.
She found her dad in the kitchen, making macaroni and cheese. It was the only thing Jamie would eat these days. “How is he?” she said.
“Fever’s down. Still got a runny nose and a cough.”
“Is he hungry?”
“He wasn’t earlier. But he asked for macaroni.”
“That’s a good sign,” she said. “Should I take over?”
Her father shook his head. “I’ve got it handled. You didn’t have to come home, you know.”
“I know.” She paused. “The judge issued his ruling, Dad.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“And?”
“We lost.”
Her father continued to stir. “We lost everything?”
“Yes,” she said. “We lost on every point. You have no rights to your own tissue. He ruled them
‘material waste’ that you allowed the university to dispose of for you. The court says you have no rights to any of your tissue once it has left your body. The university can do what it wants with it.”
“But they brought me back—”
“He said a reasonable person would have realized the tissues were being collected for commercial use. Therefore you tacitly accepted it.”
“But they told me I was sick.”
“He rejected all our arguments, Dad.”
“They lied to me.”
“I know, but according to the judge, good social policy promotes medical research. Granting you rights now would have a chilling effect on future research. That’s the thinking behind the ruling—the common good.”
“This wasn’t about the common good. It was about getting rich,” her father said. “Jesus, three billion dollars…”
“I know, Dad. Universities want money. And basically, this judge held what California judges have held for the last twenty-five years, ever since the Moore decision in 1980. Just like your case, the court found that Moore’s tissues were waste materials to which he had no right. And they haven’t revisited that question in more than two decades.”
“So what happens now?”
“We appeal,” she said. “I don’t think we have good grounds, but we have to do it before we can go to the California Supreme Court.”
“And when will that be?”
“A year from now.”
“Do we have a chance?” her father said.
“Absolutely not,”Albert Rodriguez said, turning in his chair toward her father. Rodriguez and the other UCLA attorneys had come to Alex’s law offices in the aftermath of the judge’s
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