“I remember the curriculum vitae. But that’s not what’s important now. Talk to me about Phil’s take on the man’s personality!”
“I remember Phil guessed he was self-centered and cocky because of the way he’s so dismissive of his fellow scientists’ work. I mean, most people, even if they feel that way, keep it to themselves. He’s got to be brash.”
“What else?”
They reached the door to the side room and hesitated. Farther down the hallway at the main entrance to the hearing room, a small crowd was milling about, and the babble of their voices drifted toward them.
Carol shrugged. “I can’t remember much else, but I have the dossier with me that the staff put together, which certainly incorporates Phil’s impressions. Do you want to take the time to read it over again before we begin the hearing?”
“I was hoping you’d talk to me about the man’s fear of failure,” Ashley said. “Is that something you remember?”
“Now that you mention it, yes, I believe that was one of Phil’s points.”
“Good!” Ashley said, with his eyes staring off into the distance. “And combining that with an apparent ego the size of a racehorse’s paddock gives me an opportunity to exert some significant leverage, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I suppose, but I’m not sure I’m following you. I do remember Dan thought that he had a fear of failure out of proportion to his accomplishments and his obvious intelligence. After all, he could probably be successful at anything he wanted to do, provided he put his mind to it. How does his fear of failure give you leverage, and leverage for what?”
“He might be able to do anything he sets his mind to, but apparently at this moment in time he wants to become a celebrity entrepreneur, a fact which he apparently shamelessly admitted in one of his interviews. And to do this, he’s made a rather large gamble career-wise and financially. He wants his newly founded company based on his patented procedure to succeed for very personal, if not superficial, reasons.”
“So what is it you want to do?” Carol asked. “Phil wants you on record favoring a ban on his procedure. It’s that simple.”
“Circumstances have made it a little more complicated than that. I want to make the good doctor do something he most assuredly wouldn’t want to do.”
Concern spread across Carol’s broad face. “Does Phil know about this?”
Ashley shook his head. He made a motion for Carol to give him back the prepared opening statement and took it when she held it out.
“What is it you want the doctor to do?”
“You and he will know tonight,” Ashley said, as his eyes began scanning the opening statement. “It would take too long to explain at the moment.”
“This is scaring me,” Carol admitted out loud. She looked up and down the hallway as Ashley read his speech. She shifted her weight uneasily. Carol’s ultimate goal and the reason she’d sacrificed so much of her own life to her current position was that she wanted to run for Ashley’s office when he retired, a situation that promised to occur sooner rather than later because of the Parkinson’s disease diagnosis. She was more than qualified, having served as a state senator prior to coming to Washington to run Ashley’s show, and at this late date with her goal in sight, she didn’t want him pulling some sort of stunt to do what Bill Clinton did to Al Gore. Ever since that fateful evening visit to Dr. Whitman, Ashley had been preoccupied and unpredictable. She cleared her throat to get her boss’s attention. “Exactly how are you planning on getting Dr. Lowell to do something he doesn’t want to do?”
“By setting him up and then pulling the rug out from under him,” Ashley said, with his eyes rising to meet Carol’s. He grinned conspiratorially. “I’m in a battle here, and I want to win. To do that, I’m going to follow an age-old cue from The Art of War: Figure out the necessary points of engagement, then arrive there with overwhelming force! Let me see the financial report on his company!”
Carol juggled the file of papers she was carrying before producing the paper Ashley wanted. She handed it to him, and he rapidly scanned it. She watched his face for clues. She wondered if she should call Phil on her cell phone the second she had a chance and warn him to be ready for the unexpected.
“This is good,” Ashley mumbled. “This is very good. It’s a lucky thing I have those contacts over at the Bureau. We couldn’t have gotten much of this on our own.”
“Maybe you should go over with Phil whatever it is you are planning to do,” Carol suggested.
“No time,” Ashley responded. “In fact, what time is it now?”
Carol glanced at her watch. “It’s after ten.”
Ashley held out his left hand supported by his right in order to check for any tremor. There was a slight one, but it was hardly noticeable. “That’s as good as can be expected. Let’s go to work!”
Ashley entered the hearing room from the side door to the right of the horseshoe-shaped, raised dais. The room was filled with a meandering, jostling crowd of people from which emerged a buzz of incoherent conversation. Ashley had to worm his way between colleagues and staffers to reach his seat. The redheaded Rob appeared immediately with a second copy of Ashley’s prepared opening statement. Ashley waved him off by flapping the copy he already had in his hand. Ashley took his seat and adjusted the goosenecked microphone.
After Ashley’s eyes had made a rapid circuit around the comfortably familiar Greek revival décor of the hearing room, they came to rest on the two figures seated at the witness table below him. At first his attention was magnetically drawn to the attractive young woman with the shiny, minklike hair framing her face. Ashley had an affinity for beautiful women, and this female in front of him filled the bill. She was dressed in a demure, deep blue suit with a white collar that contrasted sharply with her tanned, olive complexion. Despite her modest attire, she exuded a healthy sensuality. Her dark eyes were riveted on Ashley, giving him the impression he was staring down two gun barrels. He had no idea who she was or why she was there, but he thought her presence promised to make the hearing a bit more enjoyable.
Reluctantly, Ashley switched his attention from the comely woman to Dr. Daniel Lowell. The doctor’s eyes were paler than his companion’s, yet they reflected an equal degree of brassiness with their unblinking stare. Ashley guessed the doctor was reasonably tall, despite the fact that he was slouching back in his chair. He was slight of build, with a thin, angular face capped by a shock of unruly salt-and-pepper hair. Even his dress suggested a degree of insolence comparable to that reflected in his eyes and posture. In contrast to his companion’s appropriate business apparel, he was sporting a casual tweed jacket with leather elbow patches, an open shirt without a tie, and, his legs visible beneath the table, a pair of jeans and sneakers.
Ashley smiled inwardly as he picked up his gavel. He guessed that Daniel’s apparent attitude and dressing down was a weak attempt to prove he wasn’t threatened by being called to testify before a Senate subcommittee. Perhaps Daniel thought he could bring his Ivy League, academic persona as a form of intimidation against Ashley’s small-town, Baptist college experience. But it wasn’t going to work. Ashley knew he had Daniel in his arena with the usual home-court advantage.
“The Subcommittee on Health Policy of the Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions Committee will now come to order,” Ashley announced with a pronounced Southern intonation as he banged his gavel. He waited for a few moments, as the previously disorderly group of attendees took their seats. Behind him, he could hear the various staffers do the same. He glanced down at Daniel Lowell, but the doctor had not moved. Ashley glanced to his right and left. Most of his subcommittee members were not present, although four were. Those present were either reading memoranda or talking in whispers with their aides. There wasn’t a quorum, but it didn’t matter. No vote had been scheduled, and Ashley was not going to call for one.
“This hearing will proceed on Senate Bill 1103,” Ashley continued, as he placed his opening statement notes on the
table in front of him, folded his arms, and cupped his elbows in his palms to forestall any potential tremor. He tilted his head back slightly to see the print better through his bifocals. “This bill is a companion bill to the bill already passed by the House to ban the cloning procedure called . . .”
Ashley hesitated and leaned forward, squinting at the sheet. “Bear with me for a moment,” he said, obviously departing from his prepared text. “This procedure is not only scary, but it’s a mouthful, and maybe the good doctor will help me if I stumble. It’s called Homologous Transgenic Segmental Recombination, or HTSR. Wow! Did I get that right, Doctor?”
Daniel sat up and leaned forward to his microphone. “Yes,” he said simply and leaned back. He too had his arms folded.
“Why don’t you doctors speak English?” Ashley questioned, while peering over the tops of his glasses at Daniel.
A few of the spectators tittered, to Ashley’s delight. He loved to play to the crowd.
Daniel leaned forward to answer, but Ashley held up his hand. “That question is off the record, and there’s no need to answer.”
The clerk made the adjustment on her machine.
Ashley then looked to his left. “This is off the record too, but I was curious if the distinguished senator from Montana agrees with me that doctors purposefully have developed their own language just so that half the time we mere mortals have no idea under the sun what the dickens they are talking about.”
There was more laughter from the spectators, as the senator from Montana looked up from his reading and nodded an enthusiastic yes.
“Now, where was I?” Ashley questioned, as he looked back at his prepared opening statement. “The need for this legislation lies in the problem that biotechnology in general and medical science in particular in this country have lost their moral and ethical underpinnings. We here on the Senate’s Health Policy Subcommittee feel it is our duty as concerned and moral Americans to reverse this trend by following the lead of our colleagues in the House. Ends do not justify means, particularly in the medical research arena, as was unequivocally stated as far back as the Nuremberg Trials. This HTSR is a case in point. This procedure once again threatens to create poor, defenseless embryos and then dismember them with the dubious justification that the cells derived from these nascent, tiny humans will be used to treat a wide variety of patients. But that’s not all. As we will hear in testimony from its discoverer, whom we are honored to have here as a witness, this is no ordinary therapeutic cloning procedure, and I, as the bill’s principal author, am shocked that this procedure is poised to become mainstream. Well, I say only over my dead body!”
A modest level of applause issued from a smattering of audience members. Ashley acknowledged it with a nod of his head and a short pause. Then he took a deep breath. “Now, I could go on about this new technique, but I’m not a doctor, and I respectfully defer to the expert, who has graciously come before this subcommittee. I would like to proceed with the witness, unless my eminent-ranking colleague from across the aisle would like to say a few words.”
Ashley regarded the senator seated to his immediate right, who shook his head, covered his microphone with his palm, and leaned toward the chairman. “Ashley,” he whispered. “I hope you are going to be expeditious about his. I’ve got to be out of here by ten-thirty.”
“Have no fear,” Ashley whispered back. “I’m going for the jugular here.”
Ashley took a drink from the glass of water in front of him and peered down at Daniel. “Our first witness is the brilliant Dr. Daniel Lowell, who, as I’ve already mentioned, is the discoverer of HTSR. Dr. Lowell has impressive credentials, including M.D. and Ph.D. degrees from some of our country’s most august institutions. Somehow he even found time to do a residency in internal medicine. He has received countless awards for his work and has held prestigious positions at Merck pharmaceuticals and Harvard University. Welcome, Dr. Lowell.”
“Thank you, Senator,” Daniel said. He moved forward in his chair. “I appreciate your kind remarks about my curriculum vitae, but, if I may, I’d like to take immediate issue with a particular point in your opening statement.”
“By all means,” Ashley responded.
“HTSR and therapeutic cloning do not, I repeat, do not involve the dismemberment of embryos.” Daniel spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. “The therapeutic cells are taken before any embryo has started to form. They are taken from a structure called a blastocyst.”
“Do you deny these blastocysts are incipient human life?”
“They are human life, but when disaggregated, their cells are similar to the cells you lose from your gums when you brush your teeth vigorously.”
“I don’t think I brush that vigorously,” Ashley said with a short laugh. A few spectators joined in.
“We all shed live epithelial cells.”
“Perhaps so, but these epithelial cells are not going to form embryos like a blastocyst.”
“They could,” Daniel said. “That is the point. If the epithelial cells are fused with an egg cell whose nucleus has been extracted, and then the combination is activated, they could form an embryo.”
“Which is what is done in cloning.”
“Precisely,” Daniel said. “Blastocysts have a potential to form a viable embryo, but only if implanted in a uterus. In therapeutic cloning, they are never allowed to form embryos.”
“I think we’re getting bogged down in semantics here,” Ashley said impatiently.
“It is semantics,” Daniel agreed. “But it is important semantics. People have to understand that embryos are not involved in therapeutic cloning or HTSR.”
“Your opinion regarding my opening statement has been duly recorded,” Ashley said. “I’d like to move on to the procedure itself. Would you describe it for us here at the hearing and for the official transcript?”
“I’d be happy to,” Daniel said. “Homologous Transgenic Segmental Recombination is the name we have given to a procedure that involves replacing the portion of an individual’s DNA responsible for a particular illness with homologous disease-free DNA. This is done in the nucleus of one of the patient’s cells, which is then used for therapeutic cloning.”
“Hold it right there,” Ashley interrupted. “I’m already confused, as I’m sure most of the audience is. Let me see if I have this straight. You’re talking about taking a cell from a sick person and changing its DNA before doing the therapeutic cloning.”
“That’s correct,” Daniel said. “Replacing the small portion of the cell’s genetic material that’s responsible for the individual’s illness.”
“And the therapeutic cloning is then done to make a bunch of these cells to cure the patient.”
“Correct again! The cells are encouraged with various growth hormones to become the type of cells the patient needs. And thanks to HTSR, these cells will not have the genetic predisposition to reform the illness being treated. When these cells are put into the patient, not only will the patient be cured, he or she will not have the genetic tendency to come down with the same illness.”
“Perhaps we could talk about a particular disease,” Ashley suggested. “It might make it easier for us nonscientists to understand. I gather from some of the articles you’ve published that Parkinson’s disease is one of the illnesses you believe will be amenable to this treatment.”
“That’s correct,” Daniel said. “As well as many other maladies, from Alzheimer’s and diabetes to certain forms of arthritis. It’s an impressive list of illnesses, many of which have not been amenable to treatment, much less a cure.”
“Let’s concentrate on Parkinson’s for a moment,” Ashley said. “Why do you think HSTR will work with this ailment?”
“Because with Parkinson’s, we are lucky enough to have a mouse model for testing,” Daniel said. “These mice have Parkinson’s disease, meaning their brains are missing nerve cells that produce a compound called dopamine that functions as a neurotransmitter, and their illness i
s a mirror image of the human form. We have taken these animals, carried out HTSR, and have cured them permanently.”
“That’s impressive,” Ashley commented.
“It’s even more impressive when you see it happen in front of your very eyes.”
“The cells are injected.”
“Yes.”
“And there are no problems with that?”
“No, not at all,” Daniel said. “There’s already been considerable experience using this technique on humans for other therapies. The injection must be done carefully, under controlled conditions, but there’s generally no problem whatsoever. In our experience, the mice have had no ill effects.”
“Are the mice cured soon after the injection?”
“In our experience, the Parkinson’s symptoms begin to subside immediately,” Daniel said. “And it continues rapidly. With the mice we’ve treated, it’s been truly remarkable. Within a week, the treated mice cannot be distinguished from the well controls.”
“I suppose you are eager to try this on humans,” Ashley suggested.
“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.”