Enigma (FBI Thriller #21)

Bolt said, “When you think about it, DNA is a big part of what makes each of us unique, right? Scary to think Kara Moody and Arthur Childers were victimized because of their DNA.”

Sherlock said, “It makes me worry for the rest of us. There might not be many lunatics like Lister Maddox out there, but what about all the businesses and governments that might want to make use of our DNA information? The abuses could be endless. We could be denied insurance, a good credit rating, certain jobs, for example. They could even use our DNA to predict how to advertise to us.”

Bolt took a sip of Savich’s sinfully rich coffee and sighed. “Savich, your coffee is as good as Sherlock’s pie. You’re right, Sherlock, and more and more people are getting their DNA tested, to evaluate their health risks or find out where their families are from. It’s getting cheaper and faster all the time. I was tempted myself, but when I picture Lister Maddox in my mind, I’m not so sure anymore.”

Ruth said, “I’m sure they have guidelines, some precautions in place, but we all know computers can be hacked.”

Jack sat forward in his chair, put down his coffee cup, and clasped his hands between his knees. “I find it amazing we might be able to extend life by slowing or reversing aging with some kind of medical procedures, or even a simple pill. To think of living, say, two hundred years, now that’s mind-blowing.”

Savich said, “Sherlock and I were talking about that earlier, about mortality, and what it means, and we find we disagree. I guess I come down on the side of things as they are. Most everything we human beings value, everything we call wisdom and experience, is a consequence of our being mortal and knowing it. We are granted a finite number of years and everything we strive for is shaped by the inevitable fact of death.

“Everyone whose words you’ve read who came before us, all those thoughts you’ve shared, all of them lived knowing their lives would end. I wonder what the world would be like where no one died except by accident?” He paused, smiled. “I wonder if after a while, we’d all get bored.”

“Accident or murder,” Ruth said. “We’ve got to keep our jobs.”

Cam said, “I don’t think that would be good news for the planet. We’d all have longer to keep destroying it, and there would be more and more of us to do just that.”

Jack said, “Living as long as, say, vampires. Now there’s a thought.”

Savich said, “Even most of the vampires you read about, they all say they see everything happen over and over, and people being people, or vampires, the same things would drive them, millennium after millennium: Greed, war, love, repeating itself into eternity.”

Jack said, “Yeah, sounds like term limits would be better. But seriously, what about the effects on society? Especially if only the rich could afford the magic pill? What would happen to everyone else? The possible consequences are inconceivable.”

Sherlock said, “Back up, guys. Forget forever, say if we could all live a couple of hundred years. Don’t forget we now live twice as long as people who lived two hundred years ago, and we seem to be managing. I think it would be incredibly exciting. Think of what we could make of ourselves, learn about ourselves and the world, the time we’d have to recognize and right our mistakes, travel new roads, goodness, we could travel the universe, all of this if only our own mortality didn’t hover over our shoulders. I hope, Cam, we’d gain enough wisdom, not to continue trashing the planet. Oh, and I think of the video games Sean could come up with if he had two hundred years.” She grinned. “I asked MAX to tell me about what he thought and he gave me geneticist Francis Collins’s quote that ‘one man’s longevity is another man’s immortality.’?”

Cam said, “If I were a vampire, I’d set Dr. Maddox the noble goal of working on changing my diet.”

Connie grinned, shook her head at Cam. “Whatever way you lean on the mortality versus the immortality issue, one thing makes me very happy. Kara has her baby back.”

Bolt said, “Amen to that.” He looked down at his watch, jumped up. “Speaking of time, I just ran out. I promised my wife I’d be home by ten. Now I’m in trouble. It’s possible I’d need all of Sherlock’s extra years to make it up to her.”

Connie rose with him. “I wonder, with two hundred years, how all our marriages would fare? Only one husband or wife for the duration, until death do us part at the end of the millennium? Bolt, I’ll check with your wife, see what she thinks about that.”

When Savich and Sherlock came back into the living room after showing out the CARD agents, Jack said, “Savich, I heard you saying you need to hit the gym, it’s been four days and your body’s yelling at you. I’ll go with you, do some lower body.”

Cam rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be an idiot. You can’t use that arm for at least a week, doctor’s orders. There’s no such thing as only lower body, all of you would be involved. It should be weeks before you work out.” She turned to Savich. “You say your bod is yelling at you after only four days? Mine is saying, ‘Leave me alone to nap and grow fat cells’ and contemplate a new vampire diet, say peanut butter being the primary food source.”

Ollie laughed, pointed his licked fork at Jack. “My recommendation is three months, Jack, and make sure your will is in order if you’re planning on going hand to hand with him. He shows no mercy. I learned my lesson a long time ago.”

“My will? Savich is that scary? Okay, then, if he is, I should make some changes. After evaluating Agent Wittier in close quarters for the past three days, I’ve decided to leave her my most valuable possession.”

She cocked her head at him, sending a thick hank of wavy blond hair listing over her left eye. “You’ve been evaluating me? Okay, Cabot. I’ll bite. What is your most valuable possession?”

“My dog Cropper. He’s hanging out right now with my brother in New York State—in White Plains. I’ll need your muscle to help me liberate him from my brother’s wife and three boys. You can drive the getaway car.”

She pictured it, smiled. “Do you know, I’d like to have a dog. I’ve traveled so much since I’ve been out of the academy, I never thought it would be fair to have a pet. But now I’m settled here in Washington, why not? Cropper, that’s a good name. What is he?”

“Purebred mongrel. Got him when he was a puppy at the pound.”

“How big is he?”

“You need a king-size bed and ear plugs. He snores.”

“Okay,” Cam said, “I’ll take him.”

“Since this is in my will, you might not get him until his golden years.”

Ruth said, “Now that Cropper’s taken care of, Sherlock, I don’t suppose there’s one tiny piece of apple pie left, maybe hidden in the kitchen?”

Jack said, “If you’re hiding some, Sherlock, I need it more than Ruth. To get my strength back. Here’s another idea—leave this goombah and come live with me. I’ll provide the apples and the oven and endless praise.”

Cam looked at Jack. “Nah, you can forget Sherlock. If we had two hundred years, she’d sign up for all of them with Dillon.”

“I might,” Sherlock said, and waggled her eyebrows. “I’ll give it a lot of thought, let you know.” She leaned over and patted Cam’s shoulder. “You know, Cam, I’m thinking you should be our guest tonight at Hotel Savich, or maybe Hotel Savich and Infirmary. You can have the guest room, and Jack can sleep in Sean’s room and talk sports until our boy conks out. Sorry, but there’ll be no stopping Astro from licking your face.”

Jack said, “Not a problem, Sean and I can talk basketball. Believe me, I’m used to Cropper’s big tongue.” He arched an eyebrow at Cam. “Maybe if Sean wakes me up with a snort or two, I could check in to see how well Wittier’s sleeping, maybe spoon her, make her feel all safe and warm.”

Sherlock watched Cam smiling as she punched Jack on his uninjured arm. If Sherlock had to guess, she’d say Cam thought spooning with Jack could be a fine idea.