The Cicada Prophecy: A Medical Thriller - Science Fiction Technothriller Read online

“Yes, that would appear to be true, Eva, though the jury is still out on the ultimate longevity of juveniles. At least you get to enjoy the same level of pampering that a real queen bee does in your particular hive.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to take solace in that,” Eva sighed.

  “Which brings us to our current order of business,” Rick continued. “I’d like to make an appointment for you to see our new endocrinologist to prepare you for your next round of fertility treatment.”

  Eva sat up in surprise. She’d had the same endocrinologist for over five years and had grown accustomed to her professional, if somewhat impersonal, engagement style.

  “We have a new endocrinologist?”

  “Yes. Dr. Evans decided she’d had enough of this high-pressure capital-of-the-world lifestyle and wanted to retire to quieter climes. But I think you’ll like the new doctor very much. She’s intelligent, spirited, and beautiful—just like you. You two should get along famously. Her name is Dr. Jennifer Austin, and she recently transferred from Baltimore. She comes very highly recommended, and I think you’ll like her style.”

  “Beautiful, intelligent, and a great bedside manner—these sound like perfect qualities in a partner for you, Dr. Ross. Have we finally found someone who might meet your impossible standards?”

  Rick sighed in resignation.

  “I’ve got far too many commitments these days to introduce another distraction into my life. Plus, I feel like I’m being besieged by menacing forces from every side, and a pairing of such high-profile public figures would only create a more irresistible target for these zealots.

  “Besides, you’re changing the subject,” Rick said, hoping to get back to the previous topic. “Have you been thinking about the right timing for having a child? As you know, the official plan seeks to maintain at least one female of child-bearing age at all times, and we’re nearing the limits of that window for you and your prospective child.”

  “Yes, of course, I’m familiar with the plan,” said Eva, referring to the United Nations’ Global Longevity Initiative, establishing the official protocol for protecting and maintaining the population. “I just haven’t quite got myself worked up yet to the idea of producing yet another Queen progeny, whom someday I’ll have to ask to forego her own eternal youth.”

  Rick never much liked this part of his job, and he empathized with Eva’s situation. It was his duty to advise Eva as her doctor to consider what was best for her overall health and welfare, but it was also expected of him in his role as U.N. Surgeon-General to uphold the charter and encourage each Queen to carry on the tradition.

  “You know no one can force you, or your child, to choose one particular path,” Rick advised. “You can raise as many children as you wish—or none at all—in whatever manner you choose.”

  “I know, Dr. Ross, and I appreciate your understanding. But I’m mindful of my duty, and the broader implications for humanity. I have in fact been talking this over with my mother, and we’ve decided to carry on the family tradition.”

  Rick reached out to hold Eva’s hand. He knew this was a deeply personal decision, as it had been for her mother, and he didn’t want her to feel alone.

  “Have you thought about how you would like to proceed?”

  Eva knew she had many options for producing a baby. She could create a clone by inserting a cell from a chosen live subject, including herself, into one of her own eggs; she could implant an already fertilized egg as a viable embryo; or she could pre-select a sperm sample from the large sperm bank in frozen storage to fertilize her egg.

  Whichever of these methods she chose would require artificial implantation into her womb, after which she would carry the baby to term. The option of producing a baby the old fashioned way was no longer an option for Eva, since virtually all the mature men still living were nearing a hundred years in age, and to the extent any of them could still function sexually, she had no interest in a relationship with a centenarian.

  As if reading her mind, Rick interjected. “As you probably know, the cloning option would assure a known healthy female for you.”

  Eva frowned. “Yes, but it does seem more than a little egotistic to produce another copy of me—or someone familiar to me. And doesn’t this limit our genetic diversity moving forward?”

  Rick was impressed with Eva’s grasp of evolutionary biology as well as her continuing concern for issues beyond her and her child’s welfare.

  “Well at this point it shouldn’t matter too much, since we’re only talking about one individual in one generation, amongst a worldwide population of billions. It becomes more significant as this effect is multiplied across successive generations.”

  “Can we guarantee the sex of the child with in vitro fertilization?” asked Eva, wondering about the second option.

  “Yes, we can conduct genetic tests with the embryo, and only implant a female, if that is your choice,” Rick assured. “And we could also give you full historical profiles on potential sperm donors, which would give you some latitude in choosing the likely physical and intellectual traits of your child.”

  Eva had done her homework in preparation for this discussion with Dr. Ross.

  “Yes I know, but to some degree I’m still at the mercy of unknown genetic factors to discover what the effect will be of these recombinant forces in the final shape of my child, am I not?”

  Eva continued to surprise Rick with her depth of understanding of the technical aspects of reproductive biology.

  “It’s not as known an outcome as with cloning, but we can test for many defects in both the embryo and in the emerging fetus. Plus, you should know that cloning is not without its own risks. There is a higher chance of miscarriage, and there is the potential for shortened longevity in your child in comparison with artificial insemination.”

  “How so?” asked Eva.

  “As you may remember, our innate longevity is largely a function of the length of time it takes to reach sexual maturity. In general, the longer this takes, the longer any organism lives—there is a direct and consistent relationship in nature. If you were to reproduce a clone, even from one with a late puberty such as yourself, the DNA supplied would only come from that one source, and thus the inbred longevity of the offspring would remain essentially the same as that of the donor.

  “On the other hand,” Rick continued, “with artificial insemination contributing DNA from the presumably later sexual maturity of both contributing parents, this would increase the chance of the offspring having an even later puberty, thus extending his or her lifespan that much more. In this way, you not only have a chance to maximize the potential lifespan of your own child, but also carry forward the extended longevity genes into successive generations.”

  Eva was now deep in thought. There were many options, and many more implications to consider.

  “Can I take a little more time to think it over, Dr. Ross? This is a lot to contemplate.”

  Rick hoped he hadn’t overwhelmed Eva with too much information. But the consequences of this decision were simply too important for herself, and ultimately for the evolution of the human species, to be taken lightly.

  “Of course, Eva. And please call or see me whenever other concerns arise, or if you need more information. In the meantime, why don’t we arrange for you see Dr. Austin at your earliest convenience, so we’ll be ready when you are.”

  “Oh—I almost forgot about that,” replied Eva, snapping out of her internal deliberations. “I’m looking forward to meeting this new endocrinologist after everything you’ve told me about her.”

  “Well then, how about an appointment next week?” Rick suggested.

  Eva checked her schedule.

  “Can we do next Tuesday at ten a.m.?”

  “I’ll tell her to expect you,” confirmed Rick. “Would you like me to call a car for you? I could have my driver pick you up at the rear exit to the office so you won’t have to run the gauntlet of my waiting room again.”

  �
�It’s all right, Dr. Ross, I’d actually like to walk home and acclimate amongst my subjects,” Eva joked, standing to leave. “Thank you again for your time and patience, I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Always a pleasure, Eva. Bye for now.”

  As Rick escorted Eva from his office, his mind began to wander back to his earlier discussion with Dr. Jennifer Austin, and how he’d felt a flood of new emotions after meeting her—emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  4

  Tian Yin looked out the large picture window on the thirty-ninth floor of the United Nations Secretariat building. From her corner office on the south-west side, she could survey the magnificent skyline of lower Manhattan. It was a beautiful day, and the city was gleaming in the early autumn sunshine. To her right she could see the Chrysler Building, the Rockefeller Center, and the Hudson River shining like a silver ribbon in the mid-afternoon light. To her left, the city stretched languorously across the East River into the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens. Looking south, the dramatic spire of the Freedom Tower soared above the tall rooftops of its stately neighbors, echoing the raised arm of the Statue of Liberty standing proudly in the distance.

  For Tian, these icons seemed to reflect the purpose of the United Nations—to promote worldwide peace and security. In her role as U.N. Secretary-General, she frequently liked to peer out over them for comfort and inspiration. As her gaze stretched further beyond, she could see the Atlantic Ocean on the horizon, and she began to think of her homeland far away, on the other side of the world.

  Her father had been a Chinese ambassador to the U.N. who met her African-American mother while she was teaching at Columbia University in New York, and together they returned to China upon completion of his posting. Tian had led a privileged life growing up in the senior echelons of Beijing political society during the latter half of the twenty-first century, when globalization forces rapidly shifted the balance of power from west to east. Her distinctive biracial heritage and extensive study at the world’s finest educational institutions had brought her to the attention of many powerful leaders, and she quickly rose through the ranks of the diplomatic service.

  She seemed the ideal candidate for the position of Secretary-General during its latest vacancy, and after her nomination by the Security Council, she won the appointment with a large majority among the General Assembly. Tian loved the job, and with testosterone-deprived juveniles now holding the positions of power, an unprecedented level of peace and cooperation had swept the nations of the world. The role and stature of the United Nations had risen concomitantly with the rise in world travel and trade, as the final barriers to the free movement of people and goods across national boundaries melted away. The world truly was now a global village, and the United Nations was its primary administrative authority.

  The role of the international political body had accordingly shifted from maintaining peace and security to promoting health and prosperity among the world’s peoples. The unbridled success of the hypophysectomy program had changed everything. People were living peaceful utopian lives of unparalleled longevity and vigor, and the relative simplicity of the operation had made it possible to grant virtually everyone around the world an opportunity for unlimited youth.

  Her only regret was that the scientific breakthrough had been unable to save her beloved parents, or the millions of other mature adults who had passed through puberty before the procedure had gained widespread acceptance. Now it was apparently too late, and it was doubly sad to witness the inevitable aging and passing of everyone’s loved ones, when so many others were obviously being spared a similar fate.

  A loud buzz from Tian’s intercom speaker startled her from her thoughts.

  “Yes, Keisha?” she announced to her personal assistant.

  “Dr. Ross is here to see you for your two p.m. appointment, Madam Secretary.”

  “Thank you—please show him in.”

  Tian had been looking forward to seeing Rick again since they’d started working closely on the development of the worldwide protocols for pituitary and endocrine control, and she had some important new issues to discuss with him.

  There was a polite double tap on her door.

  “Come in, Rick,” Tian said as she swung open the ebony door to her office chamber. “You know you don’t need to knock—my door is always open for you.”

  “I would never deign to interrupt the important business of our esteemed Secretary-General,” Rick said with a wry smile. Tian and Rick had a long-standing friendship and loved nothing more than to dispense with the mutual trappings of decorum each of their positions normally demanded.

  “What makes you think any important business ever gets conducted in this ivory tower anyway?” laughed Tian. “You know as well as anyone how hard it can be to get two hundred member states to agree on any meaningful issues.”

  “Well yes, but with your good looks and charm, you never seem to have any difficulty.”

  This wasn’t false flattery—there was far more truth than jest to Rick’s compliment. Tian had an exotic beauty that transcended borders. Her skin was a flawless shade of golden brown, and she had shimmering jet-black hair cascading down exquisitely carved cheekbones. But she was far more than just a pretty face. Tian spoke seven languages fluently, and had a sharp, incisive intellect. On top of all this, she had an amazing ability to connect with just about anyone from any walk of life and make them want to follow her seemingly to the ends of the earth. Which came in handy every once in a while in her position as the planet’s most powerful administrator.

  Rick and Tian had a mutual admiration and respect for one another’s talents and achievements, and they sincerely enjoyed each other’s company. Tian sometimes wondered why they hadn’t gotten even closer, but to her dismay, Rick seemed to hold more of a professional than personal interest in her.

  “Speaking of charm, Dr. Ross, I see you haven’t lost your own flair for making your clients and colleagues feel like the most important person in the world—even me!”

  “Ok, let’s call a truce,” Rick said, finally surrendering the friendly banter. “What’s up—you sounded eager to talk about something?”

  “Yes, I’ve had a few troubling issues on my mind. Everything’s been going so well with the Global Longevity Initiative, and now that we’ve got just about every eligible individual signed on for, or having already completed a pituitary removal, it’s more important than ever to ensure we manage and control the supplemental hormone supply properly.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Rick concurred. “What concerns do you have about the present arrangements? They seem to be working like clockwork.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” replied Tian. “We’re placing the entire provisioning process for everybody’s hormone patches in the hands of just one company: Endogen.”

  “True, but as you recall, we had a good reason for doing this. We wanted to maintain strict control and oversight on the manufacturing and distribution of the patches, since we knew we couldn’t afford to have this disrupted at any time. And we felt that by carefully evaluating the most capable organization for doing this, then commissioning it as the exclusive provider, that we could maximize the consistency of supply and minimize the possibility of random error entering into the supply chain.”

  “Yes, Rick, I remember,” continued Tian. “However, the World Health Organization is concerned about being exposed in the event of an unforeseen problem and that we’re giving unfair economic advantage to one large pharmaceutical company headquartered here in the United States. They feel there are many other fully capable suppliers having the necessary controls and expertise to assist in this effort.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” agreed Rick. “What’s their proposal?”

  “If we were to divide the sourcing of the patches across more organizations, we could ensure a continuing supply while simultaneously spreading the economic advantage from a more diverse supply chain across more member nations,”
explained Tian. “I wanted to see if you had any reservations before we put the issue before the Assembly.”

  Rick paused for a moment to consider the proposal.

  “My only concern is that we’re able to ensure the consistency and reliability of the patch formula. As you know, this has been very carefully defined, and even a small variation or disruption could have catastrophic effects. Every hypophysectomized juvenile relies upon these patches to regulate their endocrine balance and maintain health. Right now, this is easy to monitor and control with one local source.”

  Tian nodded in agreement.

  “The WHO assures me that with their global resources and reach, they would be able to monitor each of these suppliers in precisely the same way we’re currently doing with Endogen. If that’s your only concern, may we have your approval as Surgeon-General to proceed?”

  “Yes,” answered Rick. “I trust your ability to manage the infrastructure and see that all parties are properly aligned.”

  “I’ll issue a statement as soon as we have the details worked out. I appreciate your input, as always.”

  “That wasn’t too difficult,” Rick kidded. “Were there any other weighty world issues you wanted to discuss?”

  Tian paused, as her mood suddenly turned more somber.

  “No…I suppose not,” she said, looking once again outside her window.

  It was obvious to Rick that the Secretary-General had something else on her mind.

  “What is it Tian? You know you can talk to me about anything.”

  “Well, it’s actually...my father,” she began slowly. “He’s very old and in failing health, and I’ve been wondering why we’ve never been able to help mature adults in the same way we’ve helped juveniles. You’d think there would be something we could do.”

  Rick nodded soberly.

  “I’m sorry Tian. If there were anything we could do, believe me, we would be trying. My own grandfather faced this realization when he first discovered the critical role of the pituitary in the aging process. The key is to halt the decline before we all reach puberty; after that, the post-adolescent hormone cascade automatically triggers the onset of cellular destruction that is pre-programmed into our genes.