Genosimulation (A Teen & Young Adult Science Fiction): A Young Adult Science Fiction Thriller by L.L. Fine Page A

type this cancer!"
    "Why?"
    "Because it just will not work! There's no cure yet!
Maybe surgery will help!"
    "In the lungs?!"
    "I said maybe - this cancer has almost one hundred
percent mortality!"
     
    *
     
    The problem was, of course, they were partisans.
    None of the other team members knew about Zomy’s private
genosimulation, and certainly none of his superiors knew. It was a completely
private initiative, without assistance, without an orderly time frame.
Partisans in the corridors, in the laboratories, partisans in a so far unknown
research field.
    So far, only a few genosimulations had been made. Most of
them were flat worms, bacteria, mice. More on the list: three dogs, one
chimpanzee and one offical human genosimulation.
    No, not of Zomy. The official human genosimulation was of
someone else entirely, said to be an anonymous prisoner who later died. Zomy,
in turn, had another theory. It was hard not to recognize her once the
subject's adult face was revealed. It was hard not to smile.
    Officially, the study was not easy, and devoured huge
computing resources. They, as partisans, were able to utilize only a fraction
of those resources. While Lia was one brilliant genetic engineer, she was not
the most senior. Although Zomy was the all-capable computer man of the complex,
he was not the only one.
    Resources were allocated and stored carefully.
    "It's like hitting one specific pigeon out of hundreds
of pigeons, flying fast, just a few hundred yards above the head, with a
gun."
    "With or without a sight?"
    Zomy was the mathematician of the pair; he did not need her
to calculate his odds.
    And yet they loaded the gun with some bullets.
    It was not easy. Creating a completely new virus was not an
option, although its rules came from experience. No. Better by far was to base
it on an existing model. A prototype.
    "It was engineered a few years ago," she told him,
"as the basis for carrying DNA even under extremely high heat."
    "And to whom does it belong?" he could not resist
asking.
    "It’s a mutation of Anthrax that will withstand the
explosion of a missile."
    "Oh."
    "It has a very interesting mechanism of DNA housing.
Well, well… don’t underestimate it."
    "Underestimating? Am I?"
    "I know that look. In a nutshell, there’s a mechanism
that I have developed. It's in the form of protein that folds in the shape of a
hamantash biscuit. Why are you laughing?"
    Even encoding the amino acids themselves wasn't a special
problem. The real problem was to lead them to exactly the right place, the
necessary floor in the tower of the DNA, a billion storeys high. This
complicated the matter completely. Landing in the wrong place, they both knew,
might not only neutralize the effect of the new genetic encoding, but might
also interrupt the function of another genetic code, as yet unknown. What might
be the consequences?
    "Couldn’t be worse than has already happened," said
Zomy. And rightly so. He had nothing to lose. Even in the short term.
    By the end of the process, they could not encode an engine
sufficiently accurate. The compromise was to magnify the replaced part in
Zomy's DNA. The dangers? Enormous. The bigger the replaced part was, the more
his production would contain potential errors.
    "Rather than shoot with a pistol, we'll do so with a
cannon," Lia described the move with dry humor. "Cannon in a flock of
pigeons. Well, well. Let's run this computer."
    They didn't need to wait more than five hours to see a red
line on the screen. "Immunological respiratory failure," she
interpreted the data. And back to work. It took a very long time to achieve a
more satisfactory result.
     
    *
     
    "Good. But I’m not doing a simulation this time,"
he surprised her.
    "What?"
    She pursued him into his room, tube in hand. He entered –
and she, of course, had to stay outside. There was no space in the room for two
people.
    "I have no time for experimentation. I'm going to New
York next week. Come with me."
     
    *
     
    And she