Steve Martini - The Jury

He is seated in a chair across the library table from me with shelves of legal volumes behind him finishing off the backdrop so that I can imagine this painting come to life as he speaks.

I have hired him to lead us through the no-man’s-land of science, the maze of molecular electronics, genetics and nanorobotics that Crone and Tash will not discuss.

Harry asks him if he’s ever written about the specific fields we are dealing with.

“Not for publication,” says Tucci. “I’ve prepared some memoranda for internal use by R and D units inside corporations. But that’s another matter,” he says.

Tucci is one of the leading lights in the field of high tech, a writer and theorist who is reputed to have had a major hand in the development of the silicon chip. He’s been published in every major professional journal in the country and holds dual doctorates in physics and biology. Best of all, he has written a number of articles in the general press for the unwashed masses, in major national magazines and newspapers. He is possessed of that special gift for explaining things scientific to people like Harry and me, who are still grappling with the magic of fire.

“This memorandum you’ve written, research and development for the corporations,” says Harry. “Would any of it be helpful for our purposes here?”

“It might. But I couldn’t give it to you. It’s proprietary information.” What he means is another corporate stone wall, trade secrets. This seems to be an article of faith within the field, making me wonder if these guys sleep with computer disks between their knees at night protecting this stuff.

“Been there,” says Harry.

Harry has spent two weeks scoping out the Internet and ravaging university libraries for anything, scholarly articles or news pieces, that might offer a clue as to what Crone and his compatriots are working on. He has found nothing.

Tucci tells us that we’re not likely to. “The science is cutting edge. You won’t hear about it in the popular press until there’s a major breakthrough. By then, the company that controls the process will be throwing patent parties. They’ll have it locked up.”

“What exactly is the process?” I ask.

“A major scientific merger,” he says. “A kind of synergy.”

“Of what?” says Harry.

“On the scientific level you’ve got nanotechnology and molecular electronics, with genetics being the software used to program the whole thing.

“At the commercial level you’re talking ‘pick and shovel’ companies, the genetic start-ups that sell devices for generating genetic data. Software companies that specialize in peddling vast amounts of data involving genetic information to the drug companies. And finally you have the giant pharmaceutical companies trying to cash in on new modalities of treating diseases. It’s what some are calling the genetic gold rush. And there are, conservatively speaking,” says Tucci, “hundreds of billions of dollars at stake.”

This catches Harry’s attention; I can see his eyes light up. He’s wondering how he can invest.

“It all started with gene sequencing, mapping the human gene. The genome project?” He looks at us as if perhaps we haven’t heard of this.

“They’ve mapped it. They’re working out the fine wrinkles as we speak. The question now is how to use it. Which genes on which chromosomes cause breast cancer, or lupus.”

“Or Huntington’s chorea,” I say.

“Precisely,” says Tucci.

“The theory, and it’s more than that now,” says Tucci, “is that electronics can play a part in this. It has been proven that electronic circuitry can be taken down to the molecular level, submicroscopic electronic circuits that can be introduced into living organisms. A kind of cellular computer chip. It’s believed that this is one way to code and carry genetic information.”

“Molecular electronics,” says Harry.

Tucci points at him with a finger as if to say he’s got it.

“Nanorobotics is the other leg. Microscopic robots that can be constructed to carry the newly programmed circuitry inside the organism. This would be the delivery system,” says Tucci. “Instead of injecting a drug and waiting for it to course its way through the bloodstream or to be absorbed into the tissue, you can insert programmed robotics on a microscopic level that will deliver the pre-programmed genetic information to a precise location, perhaps an organ system or an isolated tumor in the body, and deal with it at a genetic level. You can turn chemical switches on and off, enzymes that will allow the human immune system to combat disease. To treat conditions that today are terminal, and to reverse them.”

“They think that’s possible?”

Tucci looks at him and nods soberly. “It’s only a theory, but the science to accomplish it exists.”

“A magic bullet,” I say.

“Right. It has all kinds of implications,” he says, “for good and evil. There are the usual ethical concerns that follow all genetic research. You’re dealing with the basic building blocks of life. There’s the concern that perhaps we’re tapping the fountain of youth.”

Harry looks at him quizzically.

“Issues of overpopulation,” says Tucci, “if in fact we cure major maladies and suddenly life expectancy doubles. What do we do with all the people? How do we feed them? Who gets the new treatments and who doesn’t? Who is given the keys to extended life and who dies? Those are major issues.

“But here there’s one more element of concern that may outweigh all of these. We are talking about the creation of an engineered life form, an organism unto itself. It could have the ability to propagate, to regenerate itself. A virus, for example, coded in a genetic string and carried by molecular electronics and nanotechnology, could reproduce itself inside the body. In fact, that would be part of the design, in order to enhance treatment. But what if its design were to be a weapon instead of a cure? It could be the ultimate doomsday device. Microscopic nanorobotics, engineered to carry a virus capable of replicating billions of times over a short span of time and invading life forms, or stripping the earth of vegetation to produce famine.

“They already have a name for it,” says Tucci. “The GNR threat: genetics, nanotechnology and robotics. According to theorists, it has the capacity to replace the NBCs of the last century-nuclear, biological and chemical. In its own way the potential is much more insidious.

“There’s always a downside,” he says. “The other side of the coin of progress. Some people don’t want to take the chance. You can see why. The question is, How do you stop it? How do you put the genie of knowledge back in the bottle?”

“And you think this is what Crone is working on?” I ask.

“It’s a distinct possibility. Conventional wisdom is that we are five or six years away from a breakthrough. But who knows?” Tucci looks at us with wary little eyes like two olives floating on egg whites.

“One thing is certain. Whoever is first is going to make a fortune. The corporation that controls the process is likely to propel its major shareholders to the top of the Forbes list, overnight. They will become the wealthiest people in the world.” He says this with no question or hint of doubt.

“People will be reciting their names, and the world will be wondering where they came from.”

“And the scientist who develops it?” I ask.

“Is a shoo-in for a Nobel prize,” says Tucci. “He or she will be able to write his or her own ticket. And the breakthrough’s likely to come from some shop like Crone’s.”

“Why’s that?” asks Harry.

“A small operation. Attached to a university for research and support, but sufficiently independent so that no one, except perhaps the director of operations, knows precisely how all the pieces fit. One day there will be a press release, and the floodgates will open-the ones controlling the fountain of youth.”