The papers Temperance managed to get for me helped my job search immeasurably. As an undocumented worker, I was always getting sub minimum wage jobs working for people willing to look the other way to save a few bucks. It was better than panhandling, but not much. I was grateful for whatever work I could get "under the table", but it was very hard and could get very discouraging. I was fortunate, knowing that the wheels were turning, and eventually I would have proper documentation. Months can feel like years, and without Connie's love and encouragement, despair may have beaten me. I tried to imagine the other folks I often worked with, who had no 'Golden Ticket' in their future.My heart ached and I prayed for them often. I smiled at the thought that 'patience' and 'perseverance' had become my new best friends.

It took much longer than I expected, but Temperance came through, and by the following summer, I was 'in the system' as Ali, and as requested with a birthday a couple years earlier than Levi. It wasn't as important as I once thought, since I was now old enough to get a drivers license even with my actual date of birth, but I was looking forward to reaching eighteen a few years ahead of schedule and no longer being an 'emancipated minor'.

With my 'documents' and upon my official eighteenth birthday I was able to quickly get a job at a temp agency which let me network with all sorts of various people and eventually led to a fulltime position at a Swiss Biotech subsidiary that had just set up a branch near the Champaign Urbana campus. My French was definitely an asset dealing with our home office and Canadian subsidiary, and I immersed myself in German language study in my spare time, knowing it could only help. Before too long my passably adequate and quickly improving German enabled me to handle more communications with other branches. In addition to reception and phones, I found myself being pressed into service when managers needed someone to bridge the language barrier between offices. I made it clear that I lacked the skills of a formal translator but I could facilitate idea exchange, if not provide officially sanctioned translation.

Most of my language work came after hours, when coworkers who were not as comfortable with their language skills would have me go over work to make sure there were no glaring errors before they sent it along to other divisions. I probably ended up seeing stuff I shouldn't have... in-progress research and lots of proprietary work that would be buried in patents and deliberate obfuscation to prevent reverse engineering once it got to market. But I was seeing the raw research in all its elegant purity. I'm sure the researchers never suspected that this simple secretary had any idea what they were up to, but you don't have to graduate Julliard to appreciate Bach, and over time I think I began to get the knack of what they were up to and it was staggering. These 5 guys in particular were junior researchers in various departments and submitting bold proposals to management for outrageously ambitious stuff. These two guys were trying to bioengineer a virus that ignored normal cells but targeted cancer cells causing them to self destruct. These other guys were working on reprogramming DNA by inducing mutations in specific protein pairs, it became clear quickly that they were talking about switching off the 'counter' that told a DNA strand how many times it had replicated and gave it a finite span. Of course all these radical ideas kept getting shot down by senior management. One day I suggested to Dr Chayapurna that he should call it something like the “Methusela Gene” to sell it to unimaginative managers who clearly couldn't grasp what he was hinting at. He seemed quite surprised by my suggestion. He had always been courteous but rather distant, just dropping off the work and thanking me for my discretion helping him author his proposals in respectable French or German. But when I made my suggestion, I sensed that for the first time, I attracted his conscious attention.

“Exactly how much of what you read do you understand?”

“Well, I'm no scientist, but it seems clear that you are talking about reprogramming a genome like flashing an eprom in a cellphone. Am I mistaken?”

“No. On the contrary, your eprom analogy is excellent. We've struggled with trying to explain what we are endeavoring to do over hundreds of pages and complex equations, but you just summed it up succinctly in a single sentence. Seriously, you don't mind if we use this analogy, miss....”

“Crowe. Alison Crowe. I would be flattered Dr Chayapurna.”

“Kal. Please. My friends and colleagues call me Kal. And I'd like to think that you just became both.”

“Well, thank you Dr.... Kal. Do you think now that senior management will pay more attention to your proposals?”

“They'd be fools not to. …..but then again, they have a long history of foolish decisions. If it doesn't have an immediate impact on the quarterly earnings statement, they don't want to hear about it. They consider anything more than 90 days from profitability to be charity work and they keep suggesting that we go back to academia if we want to rejoin the non-profit sector.”

“Well, how close is it?”

“Frankly, I don't know. We have figured out what pairs to manipulate and how to change the protein strings, but the problem is it's non discriminatory, if it encounters a cell that has already been flipped, it will simply flip it back, negating the original effect. It could take us years to find an effective solution to this problem.”

“What if I told you that I think someone else already has?” His eyes went wide.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“Only that you are not the only lab team using me to translate their reports, and yours is not the only research I read. I can't say any more, and I'm sure you will respect that, after all I have never talked with others about your research and never would.” He nodded.

“Then how do you suggest we proceed? This mystery party knows nothing of my research and I know nothing of theirs. Yet you are familiar with both and desire to play ….matchmaker.... if that's not a disrespectful term.”

I beamed. “Actually, it's an ideal word. Now it's your turn to cut right to the kernel of things. What if I try to set up a 'play date'? ….after hours socializing with colleagues from a different division of the same corporate parent. You can size each other up, sniff each others asses, whatever you scientists do, and if you think you have something, see if the sum of your relationship exceeds the total of its parts.”

“Ha ha my girl, I like the way you put it. If you're half as persuasive with them as you were with me, and you are as intuitive about the research as I'm beginning to believe you are, this could be the start of something very big. I'll persuade my colleague Dr Ortega, and you approach this other party. I look forward to hearing from you and being able to arrange our ...heh heh... “play date” as you say. Something tells me this is an auspicious turn of events.”

“I share your excitement Dr... sorry... Kal. I have a really good feeling about this.”

“As do I my dear.” he smiled and gathered his translated research. As he was leaving, he turned to me from the door and said. “Tell me my dear, ...do you believe in serendipity?”

I giggled and beamed at him “Why, I've already told others, that's what I plan to name my firstborn!”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of intrigue and skullduggery. The meeting with Dr Suhkarnov's team went well and it was quickly unanimous that they were like two strands of a helix, each destined for the other. Both acknowledged my contribution as catalyst and it soon became acutely embarrassing. Here were these world class scientists conceiving the unimaginable and paying tribute to this alleged high school graduate who recognized in both the match to the other. When I knew in truth that I barely completed what by outside standards would be considered grade 6. On the farm, you don't have much need for calculus, quantum physics or nanobiology. I was just naturally curious and would always hide from my tormentors in the last place they would ever think of going: the public library. I took pleasure in the most arcane things, I found beauty in abstract math and avant garde music, it all seemed to me like different dimensions of the same thing... the inherently beautiful fabric of reality as perceived through our extremely limited senses. I always saw patterns in things.... variations on variations, notes and harmonies inextricably linked. I didn't know much by the standards of the educational system, but I recognized truth when I encountered it, and that's why I had to bring these 5 diverse researchers together. It's also how I realized without a doubt, that Alison was who I was destined to be.

God works in mysterious ways. And if 'cosmic matchmaker' was to be my role, I would welcome it and commit to it 100%.

I was deeply flattered to be included in the conversation once the 'gang of five' believed they were meant to be a team and complimented each other perfectly. I tried to contribute, and always felt listened to and respected. So I was a bit surprised that I was credited with the most seditious idea agreed to by the group.

“Allison has an excellent point.” Dr Koetsu said. “None of this research is our primary department task. It was all detours suggested by anomalies in our proscribed duties. I posit that none of this research was directed by or approved from the company.” The others nodded. “We've been digressing from our mundane duties and chasing white rabbits into uncharted – and unsanctioned - territory.” More nods and some guilty looks. “So none of what we're discussing here falls under the non-disclosure or non-compete provisions of our employment contracts.

“Are you suggesting what I think?....” Dr Sukharnov said. Koetsu nodded. Glancing from one to the other.

“This will take a lot of capital” Dr Loessing mused.

“This could be as big as Crick & Watson... Pasteur... Lister.... Koeller”

“Koeller?” I asked blankly

“Just wait” he winked. “What I'm saying is, who wouldn't want a piece of this?”

“If we can get them to see it. It's pretty arcane stuff.” Said Dr Ortega.

“That's why we have our muse of accessibility” smiled Dr Chayapurna. “Have you ever seen anyone with her ability to distill esoteric concepts into executive summaries a 5th grader could grasp?”

Everyone nodded and looked at me. I turned crimson.

“How is everyone set? Can you wait out the 180 day quarantine period and be ready to start the incubator in April?” Sukharnov inquired,

“April first would be an ideal day to go public with our mission statement, Everyone will think it's yet another outrageous prank and we should be able to hide in plain sight until we have a viable product.” smiled Koetsu. Everyone else beamed like cheshire cats. The plan was set and the sedition begun. I was quite ambivalent at being perceived as the instigator of this plan. I just wanted to gather people who I thought would compliment each other wonderfully. I did not intend to instigate a brain-drain at my current employer, and spawn a revolutionary new start up. Not that my current employer would consider their loss a brain-drain. In the eyes of management they were mid-level research drones. From the correspondence I helped translate, it was clear no one valued the amazing individuals they had working for them in dead end jobs. I was happy for them, and was sure they were destined for greatness, but I confessed deep ambivalence at driving them away, and choked up a little when I told them how much I would miss them all.

“Miss us? Why would you miss us? You're coming with us!” Dr Chaya....Kal said.

“I'm sorry. I can't afford to take a half a year off. I have bills to pay and a landlord to feed.”

“Do you seriously think we would let you take a half a year off? Do you realize how much work there is to do? Scouting research facilities, negotiating leases, acquiring utilities services, ordering lab equipment....”

“Not to mention translating our prospectus into French and German and.... do you have any others?”

“Not yet.” I smiled. And the room erupted in laughter.

“No, my dear. We will not let you get away. Without you we'd still be toiling away after hours and jousting at corporate windmills. You are as responsible as anyone for what we will accomplish. You are the catalyst. If not for you none of this would have happened. Which is why I propose we name our startup “A+5 research” We are Alison's gang of 5, and she is the trunk from which all our research will cross pollinate and blossom.

Glasses were raised, the proposal was agreed upon unanimously. A toast was made and I searched for a new shade of crimson.

6 months pass extremely quickly when you're overwhelmed with intricate detail work. Fortunately, I've always been a quick study. Not having a life helped too. Since I got my fulltime job and moved into my own place, I'd see Connie about once a month, and catch up on her life. When the conversation turned to me, I was dismissive, saying something to the effect that I was too busy doing to talk about what I was doing, but promising her that when I eventually came up for air, she'd get the whole story. All I would say was that it was outrageous and unimaginable, and she would always smile and respond, “I expect nothing less from you.”

A5 Research got off the ground with surprisingly few bumps, considering none of the researchers had ever been part of a start-up before, and I had never really been part of anything before. It was my great fortune that I found an endless supply of mentors, and I was a good listener. I was also not a bad judge, While I found some inspiring role models, I found at least as many cautionary tales, and learned a lot more from the people who gave me sincere, but awful, advice. I seemed to have an ability to learn from their mistakes, even when the lessons seem to have eluded them completely.

So, after a minor courtroom drama when our former employer noticed a number of disparate researchers left at the same time and later surfaced as principals of a startup, prompting a non-compete lawsuit that was quickly dismissed when preliminary patent filings and investor prospectus showed no correlation to the mundane work each had done for the corporation, we were off and running, Trying to brainstorm where to start with this intriguing list of related projects. It was decided that the biggest splash would come in the 'cancer killer' virus. The first action the principals took was sequencing and patenting their personal genomes. While publishing their copyrighted genomes was principally a marketing stunt, they actually did plan to use the data in lab research. They also saw it as their version of the original Apple Macintosh team having their signatures molded into the inside of the cases of their creation. It was a gesture. A statement of pride of creation of the marvels they planned to bestow upon humanity. It could be called hubris, but it seemed to those of us close to it, as an affirmation of confidence in what we were about to undertake. The 5 researchers published their copyrighted genomes , and strongly encouraged me to do the same. When I balked, they took it as misguided modesty. I knew otherwise. I did not want my XY chromosome publicly displayed to the world.

Dr Ivan Sukharnov – Vanya, and I had become quite close during the formation of the labs. I considered myself privileged to be a valued associate of all five principals despite my profound lack of formal education and any degrees or certifications. But Vanya was special. We became like extended family. His own family was in Georgia. The republic, not the state. And except for Connie, I had no one in this world. He became like an older brother or younger uncle to me, and I don't know what I was to him, but I never got the impression that I was any kind of crush or romantic interest. If we joked or flirted it was an innocent playfulness and was completely devoid of any sexual overtones. Well, none that I could sense, and I consider myself pretty good at detecting those sorts of things. In fact Vanya was the only one I never got that vibe from, that in an idle moment they had a passing sexual thought about me. But then again, I sensed that a lot of guys got passing notions of a sexual nature about most people – and many inanimate objects – in the course of their average day. I wondered if Vanya might be gay, but I never got the sense that he was attracted to guys either. He was just an enigma with no apparent libido or the most amazing powers of sexual repression I'd ever met. So when Vanya came to me as a friend to try to persuade me to get sequenced and publish, I was more forthcoming than usual.

“What is it that you are afraid to find out?” He prodded.

“Nothing”. His bullshit detector was the best. He knew I wasn't lying, I wasn't afraid of finding out anything. Unfortunately, he also was equally skilled at parsing what I did not say.

“OK. So what are you afraid of others finding out.?” My blush was his jackpot detector. Still I was not going to volunteer anything. He was going to have to work for this. I was counting on wearing him down before he got to the truth.

“What can your genome tell us that will surprise us? It is just a blueprint of the house. It is not the essence of the home. No one knows that better than we five. Do you think your genome will show the world your insight? Your ability to take seemingly unrelated random elements and combine them into a braintrust that can change the world? Will it show us the purity of your heart? Your ability to draw out the best in people and to diffuse the worst before they can sabotage their own potential? DNA is the sheet music. It is not the symphony. The skill of the musician, the craftsmanship of the instrument, the vision and inspiration of the conductor or the appreciation of the audience.” He ragarded me for an uncomfortably long time, kneaded his chin, and resumed. “Tell you what. Let me run your sequence. Just between us. No publish. Only you see ….and I see – because I must run sequencer. I promise you I will not be surprised by anything. I mean it. Anything. We make bet. OK? If I am surprised, we destroy results and never speak of this again, OK?”

“And what's in this for you?” I was curious why he was so determined to run my sequence.

“Well, up to now we do everything unanimously. All six of us. Always all in. A+5. This is first rift. And over something as silly as a genome. It is like open source code. There is always sloppiness and ugly bits, but those are everywhere. No code is above that. No genome is above anomalies. The random abnormality is as normal as it gets. So you do this. We see results. You publish, and we are 6 together again. ….And if genome indicates you are not actually human but alien species sent here to jumpstart human evolution by convincing us to start this company, Dr Koetsu owes me lunch.”

I laughed. Vanya always did have a knack for engaging in the most bleak topics of conversation and somehow injecting levity into them.

“OK. OK. Enough” I laughed. “I'll do it. Just between us. Get me a swab before I change my mind. ...and if you blow my cover earthman, you're spacedust.”

Apparently he had expected to win me over, because without moving, he produced a swabkit and took my sample.

The next few days were tense. I was torn over my decision and what would become of it. But if anyone had to learn my secret, I can't imagine any group more understanding of the open ended nature of the universe than my five esteemed friends and colleagues.

Sukharnov rang me up three days later.

“When can we talk?”

“And a pleasant good day to you too Dr Sukharnov. How is your day?”

“So far.... unexpected.”

“Surprising?”

“Ahhhh...” I could hear his rueful smile in his tone of voice. “I gave you my word I would not be surprised. I am a man of my word.”

“I see. So you are not surprised?”

“Well.... I am not bored... let us say I am ….intrigued.”

“Intrigued?”

“Please. We need to talk. When are you free?”

“How much time do you need?”

“I would like at least an hour.”

“I don't have a whole hour free. I can do 15 minutes. Maybe a half hour.”

“No. I need at least the full hour. What are you doing after work?”

“No plans. But I don't know how late I'll be working.”

“No matter. I will wait.”

“You make this sound so dire.” Maybe it wasn't the Y chromosome. Maybe I had some horrible disease.

“Not dire. But important. Very important. May change the future of the company. Please. See me immediately after work.”

“Oh crap. You found my alien DNA. They said it would be invisible to sequencing” I kidded. He didn't laugh. I couldn't concentrate for the remainder of the day.

I wrapped up as early as I could and called Sukharnov to say I was on my way over. Part of me dreaded going, yet part of me just wanted it to be over.

When I arrived at his lab, he sat me down on a lab stool and offered me tea.

“So, I take it you already know. Which is why you resisted the sequencing.”

“Know what?” I wanted to be absolutely clear we were talking about the same thing before I accidentally gave something away.

“About your extra chromosome”

“Extra chromosome?”

“Yes. You are XXY. It seems you have bit of boy in your DNA.”

“Honestly. I didn't know about an extra chromosome. That explains so much.”

“You did not know? So why were you so reticent to be mapped?”

“I did not know I had an extra chromosome....” I was struggling with where to go with this. How much to reveal and how to doubletalk my way around the issue as I always did. Vanya was too perceptive. I would not be able to wiggle out of this. I needed to lay all my cards on the table.

“I honestly did not know I had an extra chromosome. I thought I was simply XY.”

“XY? XY is boy.” I nodded and hung my head. He laughed. “XY? You thought you were boy?”

My pained expression stifled his mirth. He reached over and lifted my chin till I was looking him in the eye. “What on earth made you think you were boy?”

“Everything. Everyone. I lived as a boy until I was 14.”

“I can not imagine that, and I have pretty good imagination. And how did you come to live as girl?”

“That's a long story that makes more sense if alcohol is involved in the telling. But once I started living as a girl, there was no going back.” I was tearing up. So ashamed that I had deceived everyone who trusted me.

“Of course there was no going back. I am not surprised that you live as girl. I am shocked that you lived for 14 years as boy. I simply can not see it. I promised you I would not be shocked. You win. I am shocked to learn you lived as boy for 14 years. And you actually thought you WERE boy?”

I nodded tearfully and forced a weak smile. “If it's any consolation, I was a terrible boy.”

“THIS is not surprise. I can't believe you were fooled for 14 years.”

“How was I to know? I knew nothing about DNA or chromosomes growing up.”

“Well, you know now. So we get to the point of our talk. What to do about it.”

“What is there to do about it?”

“Lose the Y of course. And tidy up the boy bits.”

“Boy bits? You mean like surgery?”

“I meant cleaning up genome. You mean there are boy bits big enough for surgery?”

“Why do you think I thought I was a boy for 14 years?”

“And these bits ….work?”

“Work? How? Plumbing? Of course.”

“No. I mean sex.”

“How would I know if they work for sex?”

“That you even have to ask is my answer.. OK. What's say we get full body scan and see what boy bits and girl bits your dueling chromosomes gave you.” We spent most of the evening in the lab, with Vanya testing me like a lab animal. EEG revealed a reasonably normal female brain, with atypicalities unrelated to gender that he thought explained a lot about my peculiar 'talents' at seeing complex synergies and interactions and being able to explain arcane concepts in simple metaphors. The physical scan was a bit ….unexpected. I seemed to have nascent female reproductive apparatus, but it was dormant, as was the rudimentary and undeveloped male bits. Vanya speculated that my endocrine system, was getting conflicting messages and had essentially forestalled any kind of puberty, since my body was capable of instigating either male or female puberty but had no inherent bias either way, and so failed to start either.

“Actually, it looks like you're capable of going either way. I did not think such a thing was possible, but thanks to the work we're doing in the lab, we can eliminate the conflicting chromosome, and break the stalemate, so you get to choose.”

“Choose?”

“Yes. Your decision. We wipe one chromosome from your genome and your body begins down the remaining path.”

“What about the ...residual bits?”

“I think Dr Loessing's cancer bomb can help. We can alter the tech to target undesired reproductive organs. Your own immune system will rid you of the wrong bits. So what do you think? Boy or girl?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Of course I must ask. It is your decision. Would you like some time to think it over?”

“No. There is no doubt in my mind. I wasted the first 14 years of my life as a sorry excuse for a boy. I'll be relieved to be rid of any reminder of those years.”

Sukharnov smiled. “I had a feeling you would say something like that so I prepared some strains of immunoinstigator.” he flourished his hands like a magician and produced a syringe and 3 vials.

“And if I had chosen 'boy'?”

“All right, I made that up too. But I would have to go to Dr Loessing's lab to get it.”

I held out my arm and let him jab me. The serum burned a little going in, and I felt as if I could feel it coursing through my veins. I had just rolled the snowball off the pinnacle and now there was nothing to do but wait.

“So, what should I expect?”

“I have no idea. This has never been done before. You are subject zero”

Of course I was. I should have realized that. This serum was just a computer model this morning. We had the capability to design a gene, hormone or enzyme in the computer and create it in the lab that afternoon. I was now about to become proof of concept of everything this company was built on.

It wasn't until the next Tuesday that the manure hit the fan. It was our weekly 'all hands' meeting where the entire company ….all 12 of us, got together and talked about what we were working on and how our individual processes might be useful to each other. Dr Loessing mentioned loaning out his lab gear to Dr Sukharnov for some 'black project' which raised a few eyebrows. Suddenly the meeting got derailed and it became all about Sukharnov's secret project. Vanya was cool and in command, he must have been anticipating something like this. He calmly stated that he was working on a blue sky project that was far too preliminary to discuss with the others. When questioned on his vague statement, he did imply that his “secret project” involved jumping over the standard virtual simulation and going straight to real world experimentation. That got everyone wound up. His 'blatant disregard for established protocol' turned the rest of the room into a bunch of angry villagers with pitchforks and torches. I wanted to deflect the animus, especially since I was secretly the cause.

“Can everyone please just calm down?” I never shouted, so that got everyone's attention.

“We've been working together for nearly a year now. We know each other far better than mere colleagues. Does anyone in this room think Dr Sukharnov would engage in reckless activity? Or that he would be so secretive without a good reason?”

“That's what has us so agitated!” Dr Chayapurna said. “Why can't you tell us?”

“Ah, there's the paradox.” Sukharnov smiled. “If I explain my reason for secrecy, I give you the key to my secret.”

I interjected. “May I propose that we close this meeting to principals only before this discussion goes any further?” The lab assistants looked really hurt when I suggested that they be asked to leave the room. I put on my best 'concerned mom' face and spoke directly to them. “I suggest this not to exclude you, but to protect you. Whatever happens next, you will be no part of. You will not be deposed and you can not face any prosecution.” This alarmed the entire room. Which was my intent. The assistants quickly left the room, leaving my 5 colleagues anxiously staring at me. I was aware that the 6 assistants were just on the other side of the glass, regarding us like specimens in an incubator. I didn't worry about anyone reading lips, but I was very conscious of sending misleading signals through my body language.

“Sorry to alarm you, but it was the quickest way to get the others out of the room” I wanted to smile reassuringly, but with the eyes outside the room on me, I instead furrowed my brow in concern. “Listen to my words, They are for you. My body language is for everyone outside the room still staring at us. Everyone turned around to stare at the assistants who suddenly got very self conscious and started shuffling nervously. When all heads turned back to me, I saw the smiles appear at the same time the group outside the glass resumed staring at me.

“Remind me to never invite you over for poker.” Dr Koetsu grinned.

I Furrowed my brow, crossed my arms and scowled at him. “I think that's a wise decision my friend.”

“Since we're speaking of poker, I think it's time to put all our cards on the table Vanya.”

“Are you certain you want to do this?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No. I'm not. So lets do it before I change my mind. Dr Sukharnov's secrecy was at the request of his co-conspirator on this endeavor.”

“And who would that be?” Dr Loessing glared at me.

Sukharnov started to rise.

“Vanya. Sit. Please keep your back to the glass. We don't want to double the chance that our audience will catch on.” I looked at him apologetically, and he nodded in agreement.

Looking straight ahead at me and not at Dr Loessing, Sukharnov said “Chet, let's just refer to my collaborator as 'Subject Zero'”

The room erupted. Any cool poker faces evaporated instantly. The 4 scientists crowded around Sukharnov's chair.

“You're experimenting on a live subject?” Chayapurna shouted.

“For the love of God, please at least tell me the subject is not human!” Dr Koetsu had grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Despite the side bet about my Alien DNA, my genome is completely human.” I said nearly under my breath. That stopped the room.

“YOU'RE subject zero?”

“When did you relent to sequencing?”

“Last week. Vanya can be very persuasive.”

“And for God's sake what did you find that prompted Sukharnov to begin a live experiment? Is that why you resisted?”

“There are WAY too many parts to that question. OK. I had a suspicion about what my genome would reveal. The actual results were unexpected, but supplied an alternate reason for my suspicion. Vanya thought that my intriguing anomaly would be an ideal first test for his active resequencing technique, so he used Dr Loessings lab to design and synthesize the virus to mutate the target and an immunoinstigator to clean up any residue from the issue.”

“A mutavirus AND an immunoinstigator? On a LIVE subject? We've never even tested this on a living organism! We're still running simulations. And you just whip up a batch and test it? On one of our CO-FOUNDERS???” Dr Loessing was so agitated I worried he might have an aneurism.

“We can dick around with computer simulations until our funding runs out and still never run enough what-ifs to know anything. I have faith in my technique.” Sukharnov replied with a chilling calm.

“As do I.” I added. The faces turned to me were confused and dismayed.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?”

“I like to believe I do.”

“You can't know what this will do to you!”

“I have a reasonably good idea.”

“But you can't KNOW! Infinite things could go wrong.”

“I trust the odds. Dr Sukharnov is a diligent man. I believe I take a much bigger health risk grabbing lunch at that food truck down the block. It has been a week, and I have yet to encounter anything unexpected.”

“May we ask what exactly is the nature of the mutation?”

“I guess you could consider it a de-mutation. An abberent chromosome set being reset to a more standard value and ancillary artifacts being cleaned up by triggering my own immune system.”

“Ancillary artifacts? Like what? Are you talking about something like a prehensile tail or something?”

“Something like that” I smiled. “Only far less cute and waggy. And not necessarily external”

“You mean like a third kidney?”

“Let's just spare the embarrassing details and say superfluous biology.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“Fine. Tired. Like I'm coming down with a cold that never develops. Nothing bad to speak of.”

“Well, it's done. I guess we'll have to live with it.”

“No. I will have to live with it.” I smiled. “And I'm looking forward to it. No regrets.” I walked over and squeezed Vanya's hand.

“Do you know how much trouble we could get into if word of this leaks out to the FDA or NIH?”

“I don't plan to tell anyone. Do any of you? I'll be Dr Sukharnov's lab rabbit, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be a research subject for a bunch of government regulators.” I took a moment and made eye contact with everyone in the room. “One last item. I think we should plan a surprise party with large bonuses for the lab assistants.”

“Where did THAT come from?”

“They're still staring at us through the glass. The quicker they think we tricked them into leaving the room so we could discuss the size of their bonuses and a surprise party, the quicker they stop speculating on what we were really discussing.”

At long last, all 6 of us found something we could agree on. It was like old times.

The genome patch was so gradual I have no idea when the process actually completed. As for the 'vanishing boy bits' it was a curious phenomenon. The already unimpressive organs just shriveled and shrunk, seeming to withdraw back inside me. At some point I became aware of a ….reconfiguration... that gradually came to resemble a labia bordering a seemingly actual vagina. I felt a little self conscious exploring the area. I think because the sensations were so strong, I got the guilty feeling that I was playing with myself, which seemed vaguely sinful, so I resisted. Vanya was nowhere near as shy.

“OK. From what you say, I think everything is complete. It has been 90 days and you seem completely rid of any remnant of boy. Still no puberty though. I think maybe we need to give things a little push.” And he jabbed me with a syringe of 'kickstarter' he explained should reboot my endocrine system and get the process of puberty started. He then scheduled an appointment with an old medschool colleague of his. An OB/GYN.

Dr Walken remembered Vanya fondly and we shared stories of his antics. She seemed delighted to learn he had lost none of his mischievous spark during the years since medschool. I mentioned that I was new in town and observed that our company healthplan neglected OB/GYN coverage, not surprisingly since I was the only female on staff and it hadn't occurred to any of the boys. I told her Vanya recommended I contact her since I had come to trust his judgement and he assured me she is the best. At this Dr Walken rolled her eyes and replied. “I'll bet he doesn't KNOW any other gynecologists. He's always hanging out with researchers and theoreticians. He had little use for the messiness of the flesh.”

She asked me how long it had been since my last period. I confessed I had yet to have one. She was quite surprised, so I shared that Dr Sukharnov was using me as a research subject since I had an arrested puberty and he was experimenting with jumpstarting the endocrine system to invoke puberty. I confessed that that was why he suggested I see his old colleague, I didn't mention anything about the boybits or the growing the right parts procedure. After an excruciatingly thorough exam, Dr Walken pronounced me seemingly fit and fertile. She wanted me to schedule a followup after my first period and expressed confidence that Dr Sukharnov's work had triggered a latent puberty. She said on the next visit we would discuss birth control options. Oh my, something else I never imagined I'd be considering.

Once my coworkers realized I wasn't going to die grotesquely, and even before the final results on my procedure were in, they decided that Dr Sukharnov's gamble had paid off and the technology was safe and viable. It was decided the first product would be a greatly dumbed-down version of the methuseleh gene designed to treat (cure actually) progeria. We never used the word cure, only treat, since the investors liked the open ended model of treatment over the one time profit of a cure. As it turned out, all our products treated their target conditions so well, that no further treatments were ever required. But we officially didn't sell “cures”.

We started modestly. Outrageously modestly actually. We targeted the most devastating, intractable conditions, the ones that always made the posters for charity fundraisers. The diseases of children, the diseases that were the cruellest on their victims. In other words the diseases where there would be little resistance to radical approaches and the most publicity for 'miracle cures'. We attacked diseases of the underdeveloped world like dengue fever and ebola. Not for the money, for there was none, but not entirely out of altruism. These projects relieved suffering on a massive scale, but they also provided massive data points on the safety and efficacy of our approach, which made it far easier to gain approval with health bureaucracies in more 'developed' nations. That was our approach. Get a wedge into the easy part and pry it all open. Want to cure aging? Start with progeria. Want to regrow entire limbs and repair spinal cord and nervous system damage? Start by marketing a product to regrow hair. Each of these modest products was extensible. We were thinking big, but we had to start the world small.

It didn't feel small, we quickly became the hottest biotech incubator in the field. Reporters for mainstream magazines poured over our patent filings trying to parse what new medical miracles we were cooking up. We became embroiled in high finance and corporate intrigue as struggling competitors tried to tangle us in frivolous lawsuits and steal our staff and secrets. It was becoming big business and it was no longer much fun. My 5 colleagues had gone from researchers to division vice presidents and they seemed as miserable as I was. My 11:30 meeting was the catalyst for change.

Martin Sachs had that kind of vintage Robert Redford vibe of casual gravitas. He knew his stuff and didn't feel the neurotic compulsion to flaunt it. He seemed equal part tweedy academic, silicon valley hipster entrepreneur and sightly disheveled ACLU attorney. I wasn't sure what he wanted to discuss, but I was advised by my colleagues that if he wanted a meeting, I wanted to take it.

“Welcome to our no longer so humble facility” I greeted him as he was ushered in. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water, please.”

I walked over to the wetbar, a surprisingly useful fixture of a decadent executive office and drew him a glass of ice water,

“You know most executives would have a minion do that.” He observed.

“My minions are busy doing more important things. Like plotting our world domination.” I smiled.

He held the glass up to the light. “And most people would hand me a sealed bottle of water.”

“I hate plastic containers, especially for something like water. They're a blight on the planet, they leech petrochemicals into the water, and the source of the water itself is often difficult to ascertain. I can personally attest to the quality of the liquid and the safety of that glass. But if you'd like, I can pry a minion away from her schemes to run to the quickee mart and buy you a bottle of waterlike substance.”

He smiled. “I've met my fair share of corporate executives. In my experience. you are unique.”

“I choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Good. Do you know why I'm here?”

“I'm counting on you to tell me. I only know that you're highly respected by people I highly respect.”

“Well, I will take THAT as a complement. Look, it's nearly noon. Can I treat you to lunch?”

“Actually my schedule's pretty packed, I really can't...”

He looked me straight in the eye and made a very serious face. “Clear it.”

I didn't hesitate. I buzzed my PA. “Tony. Reschedule the rest of today's appointments. Send my apologies. I'll sort it out with you when I return.” And with that we were off.

Dharma Diner was a vegan place in the artist district. Marty fit in somewhat, looking like a slumming professor, but I stuck out like a dowager at a rave. No one seemed to care.

“You know everyone is talking about your little rogue startup.” He said.

“I know. Why are we eating here?”

“Because this is the least likely place I could think of for anyone to have planted a surveillance device or spy”

“Spy! Are you joking?”

“There are some things you don't joke about. Look, I have no proof, but I know what I'd do if I were them.”

“Who is 'them'?”

“People who have finally realized just how disruptive your tech is. Corporations who stand to lose billions if you cure the diseases they lucratively treat, vested interests who use human suffering and inequality as a means of maintaining influence and leverage. Nations and agencies who have realized the ability to target and manipulate a specific genome is the ultimate perfectly targetable assassination tool, and on a broader scale an unprecedented bioweapon. Your little company is in any number of crosshairs. It's simply a matter of who squeezes the trigger first.”

I swallowed hard. This was extreme paranoia. But we were doing extreme things at A5. I knew we were every bit as disruptive as he said we were. I think Sachs glimpsed the true potential for our disruption. I was well aware of it.

“What you say seems outrageous, but I've become quite familiar with the outrageous at A5” I smiled. “If what you say is true, what do we do about it?”

“That's the tricky part. You have to be wilier than they are. They will try to steal your company and plunder the tech, either to bury the threat or to weaponize it. I'd like to offer to buy you out.”

“Pardon?”

“I represent a group of people who see the big picture. They know how the game is played, and that the revolution in biotech that A5 represents must remain viable if humanity is to lift itself out of its misery. Technically it's a non profit holding company, but what it really is is a conservator of tech too valuable to fall into irresponsible hands. I'm proposing that you donate 30% of your stock – for a sizable tax write off, and sell the other 70% to this list of industrialists, each of whom will then donate their portion of shares to the trust. The tax deduction should negate the capital gains from the sales. You will be a very, very rich woman. And you will be free of the soon to be drastically increasing burden of this corporate albatross. Assured in the knowledge that you've entrusted it to enlightened and responsible stewardship.

“I will have to discuss this with my colleagues.”

“By all means. It was they who suggested I approach you. I thought they would be the prime candidates, but they all recommended you. Especially since you own 51% of the company.”

“51%. That can't be possible. We were equal partners.”

“They diluted their shares at the IPO. But they insisted your stake be protected because they knew you would protect their creation... their... your... baby.”

“I had no idea.”

“I think that's how they wanted it. Never match wits with a group whose collective IQ tops four digits. They're not just bright, they've proven themselves wise... and that's much harder to quantify.”

“Well, I will have to talk with them, but from what you've already told me, it seems a bit perfunctory.”

“Then get on with the formalities and I'll await your call.” He handed me a card.

“It will be hard after all this time to just walk away and leave it all behind.”

“You may walk away, but you can never leave it all behind. Can you, subject zero?”

I went white. “How?...”

“Didn't your colleagues tell you I was good?”

“They swore...”

“They didn't. No one did. I'm good!”

“If you know, others must...”

“Not likely. They're not that good. Anyway they don't care about the company's history and origins, they only care about what they can plunder, and no offense, but you're not plunderable”

“Good to know.”

“That's why I told you. Now go talk to your colleagues and get back to me. Then think about how you plan to be a rich lady.” He smiled and picked up the check.