it best to at least humor the doctor. “Of course,” he said casually, though his tone was clearly guarded.
“I didn’t just look at the girl’s DNA in preparation for this meeting,” the doctor said. “As you are no doubt aware, my security screening protocol included biometric identity verification for you, as well.”
Alexei could tell that Oliveira was observing him very closely—monitoring his reactions, looking for some kind of a tell. When Alexei simply nodded, the doctor continued.
“Genetic forgeries are getting better all the time, so I use methods much more sophisticated than your typical off-the-shelf drugstore DNA test. That means, among other things, looking at a broader range of the genome.”
“I see,” Alexei said.
“To be perfectly candid, Mr. Drovosek, I discovered something quite peculiar about you. Your seventeenth chromosome contains two p53 genes rather than one. And given that p53 is responsible for apoptosis, genomic stability, and tumor suppression, it’s quite possible that you are entirely immune to cancer.”
“In that case,” Alexei said, “I think I’ll have another cigar.”
The doctor smiled without showing his teeth. The blue glow of the fish tank was reflected in his flawless bronze complexion.
“Please do,” the doctor said, though he did not order that one be brought. “Of course, your phenotype goes beyond just anticancer characteristics, doesn’t it?”
Alexei gave the doctor a thin smile. “You’re the doctor.”
“Strictly speaking, I’m not a geneticist,” the surgeon said, “but I do know that p53 affects the expression of p21 and almost certainly several other genes associated with characteristics such as tissue and blood vessel regeneration, muscle hyperplasia, bone density, tendon strength, et cetera.”
“Well,” Alexei said with a subtle shrug, “what kind of Russian would I be if I wasn’t a little tougher than most other men.”
This time the doctor did not smile. “This goes way beyond generations of harsh winters and vodka for breakfast,” Oliveira said. He paused while he sharpened his gaze. “My initial theory was that you were genetically engineered—probably right around the time of the collapse of the Soviet Union—however you mentioned earlier that both your parents were engineers, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Nuclear, by chance?”
“One nuclear and one mechanical.”
“I see,” the doctor said. “And did they happen to work at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant in 1986?”
Alexei did not respond.
“Of
course
,” Oliveira said. He was obviously very pleased with himself. “That explains the over-expression of tumor suppression.”
“So I’ve been told,” Alexei said. His tone was markedly less cordial. “The reality is that it’s a miracle my parents were able to conceive. And an even bigger miracle that I was born alive and intact.”
“Not a miracle,” the doctor said. There was wonder and even reverence in his tone. “
Evolution
, Mr. Drovosek. In fact, it’s all perfectly natural. Mutation is how life has evolved for billions of years. The only difference is that, in your case, it was caused by radiation from a reactor core breach rather than cosmic rays from the deaths of distant stars. And instead of resulting in disease or disability or stillbirth as most mutations do, it actually created something
better
.”
“Respectfully, doctor, there was nothing natural about what happened in Chernobyl, and considering the fact that I’m sterile, I don’t think nature intends for me to create a new evolutionary branch of super humans.”
The doctor leaned back against the cushions. “I see,” he said.
“I trust that those DNA samples will be destroyed,” Alexei said. “And that you will be discreet with your findings. I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that there are some very powerful people—both in Russia and the US—who are interested in my whereabouts.”
“Mr. Drovosek, I
“I didn’t just look at the girl’s DNA in preparation for this meeting,” the doctor said. “As you are no doubt aware, my security screening protocol included biometric identity verification for you, as well.”
Alexei could tell that Oliveira was observing him very closely—monitoring his reactions, looking for some kind of a tell. When Alexei simply nodded, the doctor continued.
“Genetic forgeries are getting better all the time, so I use methods much more sophisticated than your typical off-the-shelf drugstore DNA test. That means, among other things, looking at a broader range of the genome.”
“I see,” Alexei said.
“To be perfectly candid, Mr. Drovosek, I discovered something quite peculiar about you. Your seventeenth chromosome contains two p53 genes rather than one. And given that p53 is responsible for apoptosis, genomic stability, and tumor suppression, it’s quite possible that you are entirely immune to cancer.”
“In that case,” Alexei said, “I think I’ll have another cigar.”
The doctor smiled without showing his teeth. The blue glow of the fish tank was reflected in his flawless bronze complexion.
“Please do,” the doctor said, though he did not order that one be brought. “Of course, your phenotype goes beyond just anticancer characteristics, doesn’t it?”
Alexei gave the doctor a thin smile. “You’re the doctor.”
“Strictly speaking, I’m not a geneticist,” the surgeon said, “but I do know that p53 affects the expression of p21 and almost certainly several other genes associated with characteristics such as tissue and blood vessel regeneration, muscle hyperplasia, bone density, tendon strength, et cetera.”
“Well,” Alexei said with a subtle shrug, “what kind of Russian would I be if I wasn’t a little tougher than most other men.”
This time the doctor did not smile. “This goes way beyond generations of harsh winters and vodka for breakfast,” Oliveira said. He paused while he sharpened his gaze. “My initial theory was that you were genetically engineered—probably right around the time of the collapse of the Soviet Union—however you mentioned earlier that both your parents were engineers, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Nuclear, by chance?”
“One nuclear and one mechanical.”
“I see,” the doctor said. “And did they happen to work at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant in 1986?”
Alexei did not respond.
“Of
course
,” Oliveira said. He was obviously very pleased with himself. “That explains the over-expression of tumor suppression.”
“So I’ve been told,” Alexei said. His tone was markedly less cordial. “The reality is that it’s a miracle my parents were able to conceive. And an even bigger miracle that I was born alive and intact.”
“Not a miracle,” the doctor said. There was wonder and even reverence in his tone. “
Evolution
, Mr. Drovosek. In fact, it’s all perfectly natural. Mutation is how life has evolved for billions of years. The only difference is that, in your case, it was caused by radiation from a reactor core breach rather than cosmic rays from the deaths of distant stars. And instead of resulting in disease or disability or stillbirth as most mutations do, it actually created something
better
.”
“Respectfully, doctor, there was nothing natural about what happened in Chernobyl, and considering the fact that I’m sterile, I don’t think nature intends for me to create a new evolutionary branch of super humans.”
The doctor leaned back against the cushions. “I see,” he said.
“I trust that those DNA samples will be destroyed,” Alexei said. “And that you will be discreet with your findings. I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that there are some very powerful people—both in Russia and the US—who are interested in my whereabouts.”
“Mr. Drovosek, I
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