Read Online Transhuman by Ben Bova - Free Book Online

“But even if we did, he’d still be connected to the university. He’s got tenure, and—”
    â€œI’ll talk to the university people. He can always be fired for cause.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œKeep your skirts clean. Just because Abramson’s turned rogue is no reason for the hospital or the university to be tarred with his brush.”
    Thinking of the donations Fisk had given to both institutions, Wexler agreed lamely, “I suppose you’re right.”
    â€œDamned right I am,” said Fisk.
    *   *   *
    A S HE HUNG up on Wexler, Quenton Fisk smiled to himself. The perfect opportunity, he thought. With the hospital and the university disowning him, my grant money will be all the support Abramson has. If his research really pays off, I’ll own the rights. If it doesn’t, he’ll go to jail.
    *   *   *
    M EANWHILE, LUKE ABRAMSON was toting a heavy black attaché case across the lobby of the Cherry Hill Inn and Suites motel. The middle-aged black man behind the registration desk frowned suspiciously, but Luke ignored him and went to the elevator.
    Angela was sitting up in bed, with Tamara beside her, watching television. Luke saw that her IV bag was nearly empty. Tamara popped to her feet as Luke came through the front door.
    â€œHi, Grandpa,” said Angela, with a smile.
    â€œHello, Angel,” he said. “How do you feel?”
    â€œOkay, I guess.”
    Luke put the case down on the desk by the room’s only window. Puffing from the exertion, he said, “That’s some shopping list you gave me. McAllister had half his staff running around the campus picking up what you ordered.”
    Keeping her voice low, Tamara said, “She’d be much better off in a hospital, Luke. Even a clinic—”
    â€œWhen we get to Texas,” he said, his eyes on Angela. The child was watching the TV, ignoring them.
    â€œTexas?”
    â€œSan Antonio. There’s a facility there that can take care of Angie for a few days.”
    Tamara shook her head. “This is foolishness. She ought to be under medical care.”
    Unclasping the attaché case, Luke said, “You’re a doctor. Here’s all the stuff you asked for. That ought to be good enough for now.”
    â€œIt isn’t.”
    â€œI’m not letting her go back to Boston, not until I’ve had a chance to cure her.”
    Tamara looked as if she wanted to argue. Instead she pressed her lips into a thin line and started rummaging through the vials and bottles in the bag.
    Pulling one vial out and holding it up to the light from the window, she squinted at the label. “What’s this?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s for me,” said Luke.
    â€œFor you?”
    â€œIt ought to help me, make me stronger, give me better endurance.”
    â€œSteroids?”
    â€œNot the kind athletes use. It’s a telomerase inducer.”
    â€œYou’re going to dope yourself?”
    He shook his head. “No. You’re going to inject the stuff into me. I hate needles. I don’t think I’d be able to stick myself without making a mess of it.”
    Tamara stared at him. “You expect me to help you experiment on yourself while you experiment on your granddaughter?”
    Luke nodded.
    â€œI ought to walk out of here right now,” Tamara said. “I ought to run out of here!”
    Looking toward Angela, Luke asked quietly, “And let her die?”
    Tamara stared at him for a long, silent moment. At last she said, “What I really ought to do is have my head examined.”
    He chuckled softly. “It’s a beautiful head. I think it’s perfectly fine.”
    â€œNow you’re sweet-talking me.” But she returned to pulling the medications out of the attaché case.
    â€œTomorrow,” Luke said, “we drive down to Washington. It’ll be an easy drive, only a couple