COSMOS magazine

Tuesday, July 1

Jill drove a short distance and parked on the street to open the envelope Clothile had given her. It bore the return address of Keith Hindle's law firm. From where she sat, she could see the blue and white umbrellas that shaded the tables on the patio of Chez Bubba. A month ago, she might have stopped there to enjoy a salad or lemonade, but it was now far beyond her budget. She pulled the cover letter from the envelope.

Re: In the Matter of the Marriage of Keith M. Hindle and Jill P. Shannon and in the Interest of Alex Shannon, a Minor Child

Dear Ms. Shannon: Please find enclosed a copy of the Motion to Modify In Suit Affecting The Parent-Child Relationship in the above styled case, filed today in the District Court of Travis County. An emergency hearing has been set for Thursday, July 3

The envelope fell, unnoticed, as she read the document that Grady Bridges, representing Keith Hindle, had filed in the state district court. Among other outrageous claims, it stated that Jill was an unfit mother, that in the future Alex Shannon should live with his father.

Jill sat staring stupidly at the papers, as though by looking at them long enough, reading them over a sufficient number of times, she could understand why Keith would do something like this. With sudden cold clarity, she realized that Keith had sent the papers to the Allen Hoffman offices knowing she no longer worked there, certain that she would not receive them until after the hearing. He and April could say whatever they wanted in court without Jill cross-examining them, presenting her side of events.

In the two days since she'd last seen Alex, Jill had called Keith's house twice a day, asking to speak to her son. Each time, Keith or April had assured her Alex was fine; he was sleeping, or taking a bath, or eating. It'll be the same thing this time, she told herself, but still she picked up her cell phone and entered Keith's number.

"Hello?" Still the bright, friendly tone Jill remembered from the days when April was a secretary for Keith's law firm.

"Jill here, April. May I please speak to Alex?" Jill tried to keep her voice natural.

"He's playing with his sister. I don't want to interrupt their game."

"I'm sure Alex won't mind interrupting his game to talk to his mother."

"I have to go. I'll have Keith call you later."

"Listen, April—" A click on the line. The bitch had hung up. Sweating with rage, Jill was trying to decide what to do next when the phone rang.

"Hello!" Jill shouted.

"Mom?"

"Alex!"

"I heard April on the phone. Are you mad at me, Mom? I wanted to call you, and April told me you didn't want to talk to me..." His voice was trembling.

"Of course I'm not mad at you, Sweetie. I'm sorry I sounded so cross when I answered the phone just now."

"I want to come home, Mom. I don't like it here. Daddy and April yell at each other all the time."

"Honey, is April going to be upset with you for calling me?"

"She doesn't know, she went outside."

"What were April and Dad yelling at each other about?" Jill felt a stab of guilt for encouraging Alex to gossip, but it might give her a clue about the motive for filing the motion.

"She was mad at Dad for giving money to you. She said it wasn't his fault if you weren't able to hold down a job. I don't like her, Mom. When Dad's not around, she tells me to shut up and leave her alone. Will you come and get me?"

"Alex, I don't think I can right now, but I'll call your dad and ask him to bring you home." She could think of nothing else to say that wouldn't make things worse for Alex. She could hardly share with him her fears about the crazy gunman who was stalking her, or her anxiety about getting Alex back in time for the final regulator injection.

"Please, Mom. Please come and get me." Alex began to cry.

"Honey, listen to me. I promise you I'll talk to your dad. I want you to come home too, Sweetie. I've missed you so much." She was beginning to cry herself and had to work to keep her voice steady.

"Gotta go now. She's coming inside." Alex was still weeping when he hung up. Jill was too angry to cry for long. Like a mother wolf attacking a cougar that threatens her cubs, Jill would do whatever it took to get Alex safely home. The first step was to fight the motion Keith had filed. Jill pressed Carol's number.

Tuesday, July 1

Preston Bowie had drunk the better part of two bottles of Chateau Ausone Cabernet Franc during the afternoon, but he could not stop himself pacing anxiously from room to room, out to the deck, back into the house. Impending doom. Why the hell had he left those letters in the office?

On impulse, he picked up the phone and entered Tom Gebhardt's private number.

"Hey, Bowie. What's up?" Tom sounded distracted. Bowie could hear battle sounds in the background.

"Got a problem with that woman we were talking about last time. The one who's been seeing Paul Gibson."

"Uh huh."

"She, ah, I think she broke into my house and went through my drawers looking at my private papers." The story sounded absurd to Bowie even as the words fell like lead out of his mouth.

"Uh huh." Frantic screams in the background on Tom's end.

"I think she knows about Bruce's interest in Nature Forever and probably about that nut case Wayne Elliot too."

"Wha'd you say?" Tom suddenly seemed very interested.

Bowie repeated himself with some satisfaction; at least he'd diverted Tom's attention from his damned DVD.

"How the hell do you figure that, Bowie, unless you pointed it out to her?"

"I just told you, Tom. I think she broke into my house and went through my drawers. When I wasn't here."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Bowie. Can't you stop bullshitting even for two minutes? You left papers lying around the office?"

"I said it was at my house. My house!" Bowie's voice rose an octave into a whine. "Please don't accuse me of lying."

"Give me a break." Tom sighed. "What's important is how we deal with it now it's happened. Bruce is not going to be pleased. In fact, Bowie, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the last chance you ever get to fuck up."

"I couldn't help it, Tom. How was I supposed to know she'd go poking around into things that were none of her business? She'd been missing work, her stupid sick kid, I didn't even think she was coming in that day. The damned office boy. I can't help the kind of half-brained help they hire."

A pause, then silence. Tom had muted the DVD. "I gotta go, Bowie. If I were you, I'd move away and try to start a new life someplace else. Under a new name. Priscilla maybe."

"It wasn't my fault." But Tom had hung up on him. Bowie threw the phone across the room.

Tuesday, July 1

Paul's Personal Assistant icon popped up on the screen. "Excuse me, Your Excellency, there is news about the Prohibition Against Human Genetic Engineering Act." Despite his fatigue, Paul laughed out loud. He'd complained to his office mate Rachel that the computer showed him no respect; she must have done a bit of reprogramming to his PA when he wasn't looking.

"Show me." Paul had been so engrossed in combing his data for anything he might have missed that he'd lost track of the time.

"Gibson, you in there?" Rachel, knocking at the door.

"Yeah, hang on." He got up, slightly dizzy after sitting for so long. A new policy for the Pharmacy and Experimental Sciences building called for keeping doors locked at all times.

"Just thought I'd stop by and tell you the news, in case you hadn't heard."

"What news?" Paul glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was already past 7:00. Good grief. He'd been at his desk for eight full hours. He realized he was starving.

"The assholes in Congress have passed the anti-GE act. As of today, half the work I've done for my dissertation is worthless. I'm gonna have to practically start over."

"Christ! That's what the PA was trying to tell me." The small pop-up on his monitor displayed the headline: Anti-Frankenscience Bill to Become Law. "I knew they were blathering about it, but I couldn't believe they'd really do it." Beneath the pop-up, his DNA sequencing results kept rolling on the main screen. He remembered his last conversation with Roberta. Neither of them had credited Congress with the stupidity to pass a law banning basic research. Well, the unthinkable had happened.

"I feel like getting stinking drunk," Rachel said, leaning in the doorway. He could smell her faintly sour breath in the confines of the small room. Or maybe it was his own. "Care to join me?"

"Thanks, but I promised Jill I'd bring pizza tonight."

 

Angry voices as he opened his front door. The television set? A tense, frowning Jill greeted him. Her friend Carol, equally angry, was sitting on the couch. Were they having an argument? Paul stood in the doorway, uncertain.

"Hi, Paul." Jill was sullen. Was she angry with him?

"Hi, Jill. Carol. Something wrong?"

"Just as I'm beginning to think things are getting better, Keith files a Motion to Modify our divorce decree. It was served on me this afternoon. He wants an emergency hearing to give him temporary custody of Alex. He claims that I've provided unwholesome living conditions and inadequate medical care because low-dose chemotherapy was used rather than the standard dosage. He's refused to bring Alex back."

"Surely Keith can't do that! Can't you just go over and bring him home?" Paul still stood in the doorway, the cooling pizza forgotten.

"I advised her not to," said Carol. "They've got a hearing set for Thursday. Really, I know how angry you feel, Jilly, but it won't hurt Alex to stay there for another day, and it could be very hard on him to see his parents fighting over him. Plus," she told Paul, "Keith and April could conceivably accuse Jill of trespassing if she goes onto their land."

He felt his mouth gaping, and closed it. "Christ, Jill, I'm so sorry this is happening." He urgently wanted to hug her, but wasn't sure she'd welcome an embrace. Never before had he seen her so angry.

"Carol's been good enough to sign on as my lawyer."

"We're gonna make 'em sorry they screwed with Jill and Alex."

"Then you're fairly sure you can win?"

"Nothing's ever certain," Carol said. "Keith has the best family lawyer in the city."

"His firm contributes heavily to all the judges' campaign funds," added Jill.

"But two of Alex's teachers will testify what a good mother Jill is. I wish we could get Dr. Collins, but he's in Europe as guest of honour at a medical conference. There isn't time to get him back here."

Numb, Paul set the pizza on the coffee table. "But what if you do lose?"

"They're asking for custody."

"So Alex would be obliged to go and live with his dad?"

"Yeah." Jill looked wasted. "I'd only get to see him once every other week."

"But Alex still needs his second—" He broke off.

The attorney looked sharply from one to the other. "Needs what?"

Jill spread her hands, palms up.

"Nothing," Paul said.

"Uh huh." Carol turned to Paul. "Is there something you guys don't want to tell me?"

Paul got up and took three plates from the shelf next to the table. "Pizza's getting cold. Might as well eat while we talk. Hey, Jill, I'll bet you haven't eaten all day. Have some pizza. Something to drink? Coke? Beer?"

"I'm not hungry, thanks."

"I am." Carol reached to open the box. "C'mon, Jilly. You gotta keep up your strength. Now answer me. What haven't you told me? You know I don't like surprises in the court room."

Jill nibbled at a slice of pizza; Paul shot her a questioning glance. After he'd given up hope of her ever speaking again, she said, "There's something we didn't tell the police about the crazy guy that shot up Paul's lab."

Carol raised her eyebrows. "I'm waiting."

"This insane man forced Paul, at gunpoint, to inject all four of us with an experimental drug."

"Alex too?" she said in disbelief. Jill nodded, and Carol put a hand to her forehead, shaking her head slowly. "Oh God," she sighed.

"No, it's all right, it's helping Alex, Carol."

"How do you know it's helping him? He hasn't been living with you."

"We've seen scans. He was already much better before he left for Keith's house. And I've talked to him on the phone since then."

Carol looked as if Jill had just assured her that Paul had a method of bringing the dead back to life. "Don't you think it might have been advisable to... not to conceal evidence from the police?"

"It's our only hope for Alex," said Jill. "The police think the gunman was trying to steal narcotics. If we'd told them about the injections—" She looked pleadingly at Paul, then back to Carol. "I'm sorry," she muttered wretchedly. "I was wrong. I should've told the police about the auxosome injections."

"Uh huh." Carol turned to Paul. "You actually think this will cure Alex? Are you making plans to visit Stockholm, Paul?"

Before he had a chance to defend himself, Jill said fervently, "The change in Paul's mice was incredible, even after just one injection."

"Mice. Wonderful. You say it's experimental? Not approved by the FDA?"

"True." Paul forced himself to take another slice of pizza. Let's keep the temperature down. "Look, conventional medicine can't do anything for Alex. Why not let the kid have a fighting chance?"

"The court certainly wouldn't see it that way. Jilly, remember Brockman and Brockman?"

"The vet case last year. Yeah. Oh shit."

"Um hm. Paul, the Brockman child was terminally ill with a type of tumour that had responded in animal trials to experimental reovirus treatment."

"I've heard of that," he told her. "Surely it's still in Phase I clinical trials?"

"Yeah, but the treatment's been approved for veterinary use. Worked on mice and dogs. Killed 90 percent of all the tumours by infecting the sick cells and leaving the healthy ones alone, something like that. Or 100 percent cure in 90 percent of the animals, whatever. But as you say it wasn't yet available to be tested on humans. So the father made back-door arrangements with a veterinarian friend to treat the kid with the virus. Mrs. Brockman found out, raised hell. Nobody's gonna do Frankenscience experiments on her baby."

"It hurt the child?" Jill cried anxiously.

"No. The kid improved. Miraculously."

"But you're saying the father lost the case?" Paul was incredulous.

"Yep, and his veterinarian friend lost her license. They were lucky to avoid jail."

"That's insane!" Paul jumped to his feet, paced in agitation. " No, no," he waved his hand, "I know the arguments. But if people are terminally ill anyhow, why not let them try experimental treatments? Surely the court'll see reason if you present a strong enough case."

"Not a chance."

Paul was bitter. "Because Keith's lawyer contributed to the judge's campaign fund?"

Carol tightened her lips. "No need to be so cynical. It's just... it's not up to a family law judge to make the FDA's decisions for them."

"Expert witnesses—"

"Yes, they could testify for us. Jill had good reason to believe what you two planned is in Alex's best interest. Then she might keep custody of Alex, but only if she promises to stay the hell away from experimental drugs in the future. The judge is legally bound to uphold all federal and state laws. She can't say it's okay for someone who isn't a licensed physician to use treatments that haven't been approved by the FDA."

"It's worse than that, actually," Paul said slowly. "The new bill means that my auxosome work is now illegal, since it involves genetic engineering."

Carol squinted at Jill under raised eyebrows. "Jilly, we've been friends for... what?... almost ten years now. I know what you're thinking of doing. But don't, okay? Please don't do anything that would make the situation worse than it already is."

 

After Jill kissed Carol goodnight at the door, with thanks but a certain mutual chagrin, Paul said thoughtfully, "Illegal or not, I have to finish my work. It's too dangerous to stop now."

"You can bring a supply of the regulator protein thingees home here, can't you, for safekeeping? Or is that being too paranoid? They're not going to kick down your lab door, surely."

"Heaven knows. A lot of craziness is getting built up right now by the media. 'Frankenscience'!" He shuddered. "Imagine basing your national public health policies on bad horror movies from the 1930s. Movies that were based on a book written by a teenager in 1818! It's—it's—" He caught himself. "Still, I do have to make absolutely certain that what I've designed isn't some kind of hazardous plague."

Jill stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Paul! You assured me—"

"I know, I know. But what if the auxosome hooks itself up inside our bodies with an E. coli bacterium, or some rhinovirus? We could see people catching it every time we sneeze!"

She sat down with a thump. "Well, would that be such a bad thing? The world could use some more intelligence."

He looked at her, looked away. "Don't forget the need for regulator shots."

"Oh. Oh." Her voice was very faint. "If people caught an auxosome infection, they wouldn't be able to control—"

"Exactly. Neural growth runaway." He seized her hand, trying very hard not to think of lurid horror movies with people's heads exploding. "It's extremely unlikely, but that's why I need to finish my current project. But I'm more worried about populations exploding."

Jill blinked, nodded, following the logic. "Oh God. If mice or cats or heaven forbid people catch it and it really does make them deathless—"

"Yes. And their children, and their children..."

She shuddered.

"Right now I'm trialling three methods for inserting the regulator operons directly into the primary auxosome genome. The mouse models look good so far. I'm adding a version of what the Greens call a Terminator gene. It'll shut down the reproductive system in both males and females, just to be safe." He was bleak. "Let's just hope the lunatics in charge of the asylum don't nail my lab door shut before I've finished my trials."