dk.solesurvivor-第60节

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scinate　Pollack…especially　molecular　biology。'
　　'Why　molecular　biology？'
　　'Because　the　more　we　understand　living　things　on　a　molecular　level；　the　clearer　it　bees　that　everything　is　intelligently　designed。　You；　me；　mammals；　fish；　insects；　plants；　everything。'
　　'Wait　a　second。　Are　you　tossing　away　evolution　here？'
　　'Not　entirely。　Wherever　molecular　biology　takes　us；　there　might　still　be　a　place　for　Darwin's　theory　of　evolution…in　some　form。'
　　'You're　not　one　of　those　strict　fundamentalists　who　believes　we　were　created　exactly　five　thousand　years　ago　in　the　Garden　of　Eden。'
　　'Hardly。　But　Darwin's　theory　was　put　forth　in　eighteen　fifty…nine；　before　we　had　any　knowledge　of　atomic　structure。　He　thought　the　smallest　unit　of　a　living　creature　was　the　cell…which　he　saw　as　just　a　lump　of　adaptable　albumen。'
　　Albumen？　You're　losing　me。'
　　'The　origin　of　this　basic　living　matter；　he　thought；　was　most　likely　an　accident　of　chemistry…and　the　origin　of　all　species　was　explained　through　evolution。　But　we　now　know　cells　are　enormously　plex　structures　of　such　clockwork　design　that　it's　impossible　to　believe　they　are　accidental　in　nature。'
　　'We　do？　I　guess　I've　been　out　of　school　a　long　time。'
　　'Even　in　the　matter　of　the　species　。　。　。　Well；　the　two　axioms　of　Darwinian　theory…the　continuity　of　nature　and　adaptable　design　…have　never　been　validated　by　a　single　empirical　discovery　in　nearly　a　hundred　and　fifty　years。'
　　'Now　you　have　lost　me。'
　　'Let　me　put　it　another　way。'　She　still　leaned　forward；　staring　out　at　the　dark　hills　and　the　steadily　rising　glow　of　the　sprawling　suburbs　beyond。　'Do　you　know　who　Francis　Crick　is？'
　　'No。'
　　'He's　a　molecular　biologist。　In　1962；　he　shared　the　Nobel　Prize　in　Medicine　with　Maurice　Wilkins　and　James　Watson　for　discovering　the　three…dimensional　molecular　structure　of　DNA…the　double　helix。　Every　advancement　in　genetics　since　then…and　the　countless　revolutionary　cures　for　diseases　we're　going　to　see　over　the　next　twenty　years…spring　directly　from　the　work　of　Francis　Crick　and　his　colleagues。　Crick　is　a　scientist's　scientist；　Joe；　to　no　degree　a　spiritualist　or　mystic。　But　do　you　know　what　he　suggested　a　few　years　ago？　That　life　on　earth　may　well　have　been　designed　by　an　extraterrestrial　intelligence。'
　　'Even　highbrows　read　the　National　Enquirer；　huh？'
　　'The　point　is…Crick　was　unable　to　square　what　we　now　know　of　molecular　biology's　plexity　with　the　theory　of　natural　selection；　but　he　was　unwilling　to　suggest　a　Creator　in　any　spiritual　sense。'
　　'So　。　。　。　enter　the　ever…popular　godlike　aliens。'
　　'But　it　totally　begs　the　issue；　you　see？　Even　if　every　form　of　life　on　this　planet　was　designed　by　extraterrestrials　。　。　。　who　designed　them？'
　　'It's　the　chicken　or　the　egg　all　over　again。'
　　She　laughed　softly；　but　the　laughter　mutated　into　a　cough　that　she　couldn't　easily　suppress。　She　eased　back；　leaning　against　the　door　once　more…and　glared　at　him　when　he　tried　to　suggest　that　she　needed　medical　attention。
　　When　she　regained　her　breath；　she　said；　'Loren　Pollack　believes　the　purpose　of　human　intellectual　striving…the　purpose　of　science…is　to　increase　our　understanding　of　the　universe　not　just　to　give　us　better　physical　control　of　our　environment　or　to　satisfy　curiosity；　but　to　solve　the　puzzle　of　existence　God　has　put　before　us。'
　　'And　by　solving　it　to　bee　like　gods　ourselves。'
　　She　smiled　through　her　pain。　'Now　you're　tuned　to　the　Pollack　frequency。　Pollack　thinks　we're　living　in　the　time　when　some　key　scientific　breakthrough　will　prove　there　is　a　Creator。　Something　that　is。。。　an　interface　with　the　infinite。　This　will　bring　the　soul　back　to　science…lifting　humanity　out　of　its　fear　and　doubt；　healing　our　divisions　and　hatreds；　finally　uniting　our　species　on　one　quest　that's　both　of　the　spirit　and　the　mind。'
　　'Like　Star　Trek。'
　　'Don't　make　me　laugh　again；　Joe。　It　hurts　too　much。'
　　Joe　thought　of　Gem　Fittich；　the　used…car　dealer。　Both　Pollack　and　Fittich　sensed　an　approaching　end　to　the　world　as　they　knew　it；　but　the　oning　tidal　wave　that　Fittich　perceived　was　dark　and　cold　and　obliterating；　while　Pollack　foresaw　a　wave　of　purest　light。
　　'So　Pollack；'　she　said；　'founded　Infinif　ace　to　facilitate　this　quest；　to　track　research　worldwide　with　an　eye　toward　projects　with　well；　with　metaphysical　aspects　that　the　scientists　themselves　might　not　recognize。　To　ensure　that　key　discoveries　were　shared　among　researchers。　To　encourage　specific　projects　that　seemed　to　be　leading　to　a　breakthrough　of　the　sort　Pollack　predicts。'
　　'Infiniface　isn't　a　religion　at　all。'
　　'No。　Pollack　thinks　all　religions　are　valid　to　the　extent　that　they　recognize　the　existence　of　a　created　universe　and　a　Creator　…but　that　then　they　bog　down　in　elaborate　interpretations　of　what　God　expects　of　us。　What's　wanted　of　us；　in　Pollack's　view；　is　to　work　together　to　learn；　to　understand；　to　peel　the　layers　of　the　universe；　to　find　God　。　。　。　and　in　the　process　to　bee　His　equals。'
　　By　now　they　were　out　of　the　dark　hills　and　into　suburbs　again。　Ahead　was　the　entrance　to　the　freeway　that　would　take　them　east　across　the　city。
　　As　he　drove　up　the　ramp；　heading　toward　Glendale　and　Pasadena；　Joe　said；　'I　don't　believe　in　anything。'
　　'I　know。'
　　'No　loving　god　would　allow　such　suffering。'
　　'Pollack　would　say　that　the　fallacy　of　your　thinking　lies　in　its　narrow　human　perspective。'
　　'Maybe　Pollack　is　full　of　shit。'
　　Whether　Rose　began　to　laugh　again　or　fell　directly　victim　to　the　cough；　Joe　couldn't　tell；　but　she　needed　even　longer　than　before　to　regain　control　of　herself。
　　'You　need　to　see　a　doctor；'　he　insisted。
　　She　was　adamantly　opposed。　Any　delay。　。　。　and　Nina's　dead。'
　　'Don't　make　me　choose　between…'
　　'There　is　no　choice。　That's　my　point。　If　it's　me　or　Nina。　。　。　then　she　es　first。　Because　she's　the　future。　She's　the　hope。'
　　
　　Orange…faced　on　first　appearance；　the　moon　had　lost　its　blush　and；　stage　fright　behind　it；　had　put　on　the　stark　white　face　of　a　smugly　amused　mime。
　　Sunday　night　traffic　on　the　moon…mocked　freeway　was　heavy　as　Angelenos　returned　from　Vegas　and　other　points　in　the　desert；　while　desert　dwellers　streamed　in　the　opposite　direction；　returning　from　the　city　and　its　beaches：　ceaselessly　restless；　these　multitudes；　always　seeking　a　greater　happiness…and　often　finding　it；　but　only　for　a　weekend　or　an　afternoon。
　　Joe　drove　as　fast　and　as　recklessly　as　he　dared；　weaving　from　lane　to　lane；　but　keeping　in　mind　that　they　could　not　risk　being　stopped　by　the　highway　patrol。　The　car　wasn't　registered　in　either　his　name　or　Rose's。　Even　if　they　could　prove　it　had　been　loaned　to　them；　they　would　lose　valuable　time　in　the　process。
　　'What　is　Project　Ninety…nine？'　he　asked　her。　'What　the　hell　are　they　doing　in　that　subterranean　facility　outside　Manassas？'
　　'You've　heard　about　the　Human　Genome　Project。'
　　'Yeah。　Cover　of　Newsweek。　As　I　understand　it；　they're　figuring　out　what　each　human　gene　controls。'
　　'The　greatest　scientific　undertaking　of　our　age；'　Rose　said。　'Mapping　all　one　hundred　thousand　human　genes　and　detailing　the　DNA　alphabet　of　each。　And　they're　making　incredibly　fast　progress。'
　　'Find　out　how　to　cure　muscular　dystrophy；　multiple　sclerosis…'
　　'Cancer；　everything…given　time。'
　　'You're　part　of　that？'
　　'No。　Not　directly。　At　Project　Ninety…nine　。　。　。　we　have　a　more　exotic　assignment。　We're　looking　for　those　genes　that　seem　to　be　associated　with　unusual　talents。'
　　'What…like　Mozart　or　Rembrandt　or　Michael　Jordan？'
　　'No。　Not　creative　or　athletic　talents。　Paranormal　talents。　Telepathy。　Telekinesis。　Pyrokinesis。　It's　a　long　strange　list。'
　　His　immediate　reaction　was　that　of　a　crime　reporter；　not　of　a　man　who　had　recently　seen　the　fantastic　in　action：　'But　there　aren't　such　talents。　That's　science　fiction。'
　　'There　are　people　who　score　far　higher　than　chance　on　a　variety　of　tests　designed　to　disclose　psychic　abilities。　Card　prediction。　Calling　coin　tosses。　Thought…image　transmission。'
　　'That　stuff　they　used　to　do　at　Duke　University。'
　　'That　and　more。　When　we　find　people　who　perform　exceptionally　well　in　these　tests；　we　take　blood　samples　from　them。　We　study　their　genetic　structure。　Or　children　in　poltergeist　situations。'
　　'Poltergeists？'
　　'Poltergeist　phenomena…weeding　out　the　hoaxes…aren't　really　ghosts。　There's　always　one　or　more　children　in　houses　where　this　happens。　We　think　the　objects　flying　around　the　room　and　the　ectoplasmic　apparitions　are　caused　by　these　children；　by　their　unconscious　exercise　of　powers　they　don't　even　know　they　have。　We　take　samples　from　these　kids　when　we　can　find　them。　We're　building　a　library　of　unusual　genetic　profiles；　looking　for　mon　patterns　among　people　who　have　had　all　manner　of　paranormal　experiences。'
　　'And　have　you　found　something？'
　　She　was　silent；　perhaps　waiting　for　another　spasm　of　pain　to　pass；　though　her　face　revealed　more　mental　anguish　than　physical　suffering。　At　last　she　said；　'Quite　a　lot；　yes。'
　　If　there　had　been　enough　light　for　Joe　to　see　his　reflection　in　the　rear…view　mirror；　he　knew　that　he　could　have　watched　as　his　tan　faded　and　his　face　turned　as　white　as　the　moon；　for　he　suddenly