Robin Cook - Seizure

“Extremely so,” Daniel admitted with a series of nods for emphasis. “After we complete our animal studies, which are moving ahead rapidly, we’re hoping for a fast track with the FDA to begin human trials in a controlled setting.”

Ashley saw Daniel glance at his companion and even grip her hand for a moment. Ashley smiled inwardly, sensing Daniel was thinking the hearing was going well. It was time to rectify that misconception. “Tell me, Doctor Lowell,” Ashley began. “Have you ever heard the saying: If something sounds too good to be true, it probably isn’t ?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I think HTSR is a prime example. Putting aside for a moment the semantic argument about whether or not embryos are being dismembered, HTSR has another major ethical problem.”

Ashley paused for effect. The audience was completely still.

“Doctor,” Ashley said patronizingly. “Have you ever read that classic novel by Mary Shelley called Frankenstein ?”

“HTSR has nothing to do with the Frankenstein myth,” Daniel said indignantly, implying he knew full well where Ashley was headed. “To imply as much is an irresponsible attempt to take advantage of public fears and misconceptions.”

“I beg to disagree,” Ashley said. “In fact, I think Mary Shelley must have had an inkling that HTSR was coming down the pike, and that’s why she wrote her novel.”

The spectators again laughed. It was apparent they were hanging on to every word and enjoying themselves.

“Now I know I have not had the benefit of an Ivy League education, but I read Frankenstein, whose whole title includes The Modern Prometheus, and I think the parallels are remarkable. As I understand it, the word transgenic, which is part of the confusing name of your procedure, means taking bits and pieces of various people’s genomes and mixing them together like you’re making a cake. That sounds to this country boy pretty much the same thing Victor Frankenstein did when he made his monster, getting pieces from this corpse and parts from another and sewing them up together. He even used a bit of electricity, just like you people do with your cloning.”

“With HTSR, we are adding relatively short lengths of DNA, not whole organs,” Daniel retorted heatedly.

“Calm down, Doctor!” Ashley said. “This is a fact-finding hearing we’re having here, not a fight. What I’m driving at is that, with your procedure, you’re taking parts of one person and putting them in another. Isn’t that true?”

“On a molecular level.”

“I don’t care what level it is,” Ashley said. “I just want to establish the facts.”

“Medical science has been transplanting organs for some time,” Daniel snapped. “The general public does not see a moral problem with that, quite the contrary, and organ transplantation is certainly a better conceptual parallel with HTSR than Mary Shelley’s nineteenth-century novel.”

“In the example you gave concerning Parkinson’s disease, you admitted you are planning on injecting these little molecular Frankensteins you are planning on mixing up so they end up in people’s brains. I’m sorry, Doctor, but there haven’t been too many brains transplanted in our current organ-transplant programs, so I don’t think the parallel is any good at all. Injecting parts of another person and getting them into someone’s brain is a step beyond the pale in my book, and I believe in the Good Lord’s Book.”

“The therapeutic cells we create are not molecular Frankensteins,” Daniel said angrily.

“Your opinion has duly been recorded,” Ashley said. “Let’s move on.”

“This is a farce!” Daniel commented. He threw up his arms for emphasis.

“Doctor, I must remind you that this is a congressional subcommittee hearing, and you are expected to abide by appropriate decorum. We’re all reasonable people here, who are supposed to show respect for one another while trying to do our best to gather information.”

“It’s becoming progressively obvious this hearing has been set up under false pretenses. You didn’t come in here to gather information with an open mind about HTSR, as you so magnanimously suggest. You’re just using this hearing to grandstand with preprepared emotive rhetoric.”

“I’d like you to know,” Ashley said condescendingly, “making that kind of inflammatory statement and accusation is specifically frowned upon in Congress. This is not Crossfire or some other media circus. Yet I refuse to take offense. Instead, I will once again assure you that your opinion has been duly recorded, and, as I said, I’d like to move on. As the discoverer of HTSR, you can’t be expected to be entirely objective about the procedure’s moral merits, but I’d like to question you about this issue. But first I would like to say that it has been difficult not to notice the disarmingly attractive woman who is sitting next to you at the witness table. Is she here to help you testify? If so, perhaps you should introduce her for the record.”

“This is Dr. Stephanie D’Agostino,” Daniel snapped. “She is my scientific collaborator.”

“Another M.D., Ph.D.?” Ashley questioned.

“I am a Ph.D., not an M.D.,” Stephanie said into her microphone. “And Mr. Chairman, I would like to echo Dr. Lowell’s opinion about the biased way this hearing has been proceeding, but without his inflammatory words. I strongly believe that allusions to the Frankenstein myth in relation to HTSR are inappropriate, since they play to people’s fundamental fears.”

“I’m chagrined,” Ashley said. “I always thought you Ivy League folks were addicted to alluding to various and sundry literary masterpieces, but here, the one time I give it a whirl, I’m told it’s inappropriate. Now is that fair, especially since I distinctly remember being taught at my small, Baptist college that Frankenstein was, among other things, a warning about the moral consequences of unchecked scientific materialism? In my mind, that makes the book extremely apropos. But that’s enough on this particular issue! This is a hearing, not a literary debate.”

Before Ashley could continue, Rob came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Ashley placed his hand over his microphone to prevent it from picking up any of his aide’s comments.

“Senator,” Rob whispered in Ashley’s ear. “As soon as the request came through this morning for Dr. D’Agostino to join Dr. Lowell at the witness table, we did a quick background check on her. She’s a Harvard-trained townie. She was brought up in the North End of Boston.”

“Is that supposed to be significant?”

Rob shrugged. “It could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. The indicted investor in Dr. Lowell’s company whom the Bureau told us about is also a D’Agostino who grew up in the North End. They are probably related.”

“My, my,” Ashley commented. “That is curious.” He took the sheet of paper from Rob and put it next to the financial statement of Daniel’s company. He had trouble suppressing a smile after such a windfall.

“Dr. D’Agostino,” Ashley said into his microphone after removing his hand. “Are you by any chance related to Anthony D’Agostino residing at Fourteen Acorn Street in Medford, Massachusetts?”

“He is my brother.”

“And this is the same Anthony D’Agostino who has been indicted for racketeering?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Stephanie said. She glanced at Daniel, who was looking at her with an expression of disbelief.

“Dr. Lowell,” Ashley continued. “Were you aware that one of your initial and rather major investors had been so indicted?”

“No, I was not,” Daniel said. “But he is far from a major investor.”