Читать книгу ARN, The Forbidden Fruit - Frank Pedreno - Страница 5

The rattle of the clock began at 5:43 a.m. yet Dr. James Andersen, ‘Jimmy’ to his friends, knew the repugnant bottle of three-dollar Pinot Noir and the two milligrams of Clonazepam would prevent him from opening his eyes. That task was reserved for the squeaky wooden wagons of the old Boston subway system, known as ‘the T,’ and the first rays of dawn prying their way between the glass and the curtain to drill through his cranium and force his eyes open. What were you thinking when you rented this apartment? he asked himself as he wiped the puddle of saliva that had accumulated between his mouth and pillow with his fingers. “Okay, okay, I’m up!” he yelled while struggling to extricate himself from the knot the sheet had formed with his body. Just like every morning, when he finally managed to unlock one leg and part of his head he remained mesmerized staring at the ceiling of the room, thinking that he had committed an error from which he would never recover on the day he had signed the contract to rent that apartment. Returning to Lechmere, the neighborhood of his childhood, had never been a good idea; he had only left the exclusive neighborhood of Newton because his ex-wife had plundered him economically after their traumatic divorce. He was bankrupt, and although his salaries as Principal Investigator at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology – the famous MIT – and as professor at Boston University should have been more than sufficient to lead a comfortable life, there was no end to the bills. Somehow his ex-wife had made off with almost everything they had built over 13 years of matrimony, including the beautiful home in Newton and a hefty alimony payment to help support Xavier, the couple’s only child. In addition, each month he faced the ordeal of paying credit card debt, the rent for his awful apartment, the loan for his son’s Harvard tuition, and innumerable other bills. Jimmy could not help being naïve like that on the subject of money.

When at last he was able to free himself from the oppressive shroud after an intense struggle, he was plunged into a state of weakness that forced him to sit on the edge of the bed and rest a few moments. It was in those moments that he would clutch his head tightly with his hands, bend his neck towards his chest, look down at the floor, breathe deeply, and begin to review the endless list of problems in that ominous apartment. The unbearable screeching of the wooden wagons of the T was always first on the list. As if it were a kraken hidden in the abyss of the ocean, the old rail trolley emerged from the depths through the bowels of the TD Garden, home of the Boston Celtics, to reach the elevated station of Science Park a few blocks from his apartment.

In the mid-thirties of the past century, the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority – the MTBA – had built an elevated iron rail just 10 meters above the ground which ran over the water to Lechmere station, a tiny wooden depot. The old structure produced a cacophony of every sort of creak, click and metallic noise from the continuous friction the cars made when sliding on the worn rails, noises which could be heard throughout the duration of the journey. When at last the T entered the old Lechmere station, the noise of the brakes along with the sirens announcing the end of the journey made the whole experience insufferable. With an irritating punctuality the sirens signaled that a new convoy was leaving every eight minutes. The acoustic torture repeated itself in that manner throughout the day from 5:45 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.

In one of life’s paradoxes, however, whenever Jimmy found himself somewhat depressed – which was on a daily basis – riding the noisy, ramshackle T was all that calmed his resentment and bitterness. The journey offered him one of the most beautiful panoramas of the city, however fleetingly. He would sit in any vacant seat on the right side of the carriage and contemplate all the beauty of the Charles River for the brief ride between Lechmere and Science Park. On the south bank, Boston; on the north bank, Cambridge; far to the west, lofty Harvard. On sunny days in the winter months it was possible to see large parts of the completely frozen river from the old T, and in those instants the light of the sun reflected off the thin layers of ice in a manner so special as to allow Jimmy to feel deep inside himself that everything was going to be okay.

As always, however, he was fooling himself, as he did not factor in that scarcely 100 yards away in the direction of Charlestown the MBTA Commuter Rail Maintenance Facility had been built – the technical terminal station of the long-distance railways linking the large cities of the East Coast to Boston. The entire commuter rail system ended up there after each round trip to undergo mechanical and cleaning checks. Around 11 o’clock in the evenings when the noise festival of Lechmere station ended, the frantic wagon dance of the Commuter Rail Maintenance Facility began. Each movement was preceded by an intermittent alarm which announced the displacement of the wagons and which produced a metallic rattle that increased progressively until culminating in the squealing of the brakes of the entire convoy accompanied by bell sounds identical to those at railroad crossings. It would have been impossible to tolerate except that Jimmy had no other alternative; having made up his mind to return to his childhood neighborhood, he would never admit to anyone that he had erred.

He convinced himself he could endure the martyrdom, especially since he spent most of the day outside, yet although it scarcely seemed possible, everything became even more complicated. After many years of deliberation the MBTA approved an extension of the green line from Lechmere to Somerville. For an entire additional year he was tormented by construction work and the traffic of heavy trucks bringing every type of material for the extension of the line. The madness began every day at 3 a.m. and continued until 5 p.m., treating the fortunate Jimmy to a select repertoire of the best noises Cambridge had to offer such as sirens announcing every time a truck went in reverse. For 320 long nights in the year, since they only deigned to stop on Sundays, Jimmy enjoyed a front row seat for the acoustic spectacle. Twelve lengthy months passed before work on the green line concluded. Therefore, that morning in February 2004 he considered himself lucky; since construction had ended, from then on he would be left with just two companions – the screech of the train cars on the tracks, and the sirens and noises from the train fleets of the Maintenance Facility. What a luxury! Furthermore, his landlord unsurprisingly claimed that since the area was in high demand, he would have to impose a yearly 20 percent rent increase. Thus the $800-a-month bargain he had started with had risen to nearly $1,400 per month by just his third year.

Each morning after completing a mental review of the totality of his misfortunes, he repeated the same routine with scientific precision. After a quick shower of no more than five minutes he dressed in the first thing he found in the closet while listening to something from Tchaikovsky, his favorite classical composer, on his old CD player. The ritual proceeded with him watching the movement of the train wagons through the window of his small living room. While brewing a large pot of coffee in his ancient coffee maker without losing sight of the old railway he observed with a certain delight how some passengers, above all the more heavyset ones, strained to climb the three steps of the ramshackle wooden wagons. With its habitual stridency the siren warned the whole world that the statutory eight minutes had elapsed and that in a few seconds the doors would close. Whereas at first a few passengers suffered when trying to enter the T, next it was the T’s turn to suffer. The work required of the old kraken to prod itself into motion was enormous. With great anticipation Jimmy watched on more than one morning, always expecting to witness a magnificent spectacle – the failure of the T in its intent, and the disembarkation of its passengers, who would curse at having to change convoys and repeat the entire laborious ceremony.

While enjoying this little diversion Jimmy would pour fresh coffee into the thermos given to him by his friends at UMBe Green, the sustainability and biodiversity conservation program at the University of Massachusetts Boston. He required at least two complete eight-minute cycles to enjoy his coffee calmly and in an unhurried manner. After that he would wash his reusable mug and carefully dry it. Once clean it would be ready for a new use, which would be as soon as he arrived at his office at MIT. Next he would grab his small backpack and stuff his laptop, wireless mouse, mobile phone and reading glasses into the front pocket. In the larger pocket he would place a pack of menthol gum next to the UMBe Green thermos, not because he had halitosis that repelled everyone but because he knew he needed to chew something as he walked to his office in order to stay awake the whole way. Finally he would turn off the CD player and, as if imitating the old T, calmly descend the two floors of the old wooden house, exit onto Gore Street, and walk the 20 yards to Third Street. Jimmy’s morning commute to his laboratory was just over a mile long and barely lasted 20 minutes. Coupled with the 30 minutes he needed to fulfill his morning ritual, this afforded him sufficient time to recover from the sinister nightly combination of pills and an infamous bottle of cheap wine. The continuous chewing of a piece of menthol gum helped immensely.

…

The office clock read 9:25 a.m., signaling that the moment had come for his quarterly lecture in the MIT conference auditorium. Upon rising from the chair he felt a bit dazed; it was evident that he was still feeling the effects of the two milligrams of Clonazepam, and that neither the three huge coffees nor the two pieces of gum had helped him much. He approached the shelf with some difficulty walking, took down his trusty conference mug, and placed it in a paper bag. His grogginess did not help him in his attempt to discern the cause of his lightheadedness – was it that he had indulged in more wine than usual the night before, or was it the chronic sleep deficit that had undermined his few remaining defense mechanisms for the past three years running? As he opened the door to leave the office it occurred to him that the root source of each of his maladies was the same one as ever – his blasted apartment in Lechmere.

Holding tightly to the railing, he descended the two flights from his office to the lobby of the building. Upon reaching the auditorium door he paused for a moment, exhaled deeply, opened it, and entered with slow steps and a listless countenance. These bastards will all have come, he said to himself as he approached the lectern. They never miss one when it’s me speaking.

His face could not hide the detachment he felt at that moment. He would have liked to be doing anything other than giving that lecture. Like all professors and principal investigators at the Institute, however, he was obligated to present the results of his research to all parties on a quarterly basis. In Jimmy’s case, this only meant one thing – that he was going to suffer.

“Good morning. We’ll wait a few minutes before starting as a courtesy, if that is all right with you?” he asked the audience. As always he received the same answer, a deathly silence.

Over the past few years he had experienced so many frustrations in that hideous conference hall that for him it had gradually transformed into an authentic torture chamber. As had occurred with the Cathar heretics of the twelfth century who had denied the dogmas instituted by the Catholic Church, he too dared to question many scientific dogmas. Under normal conditions such a heresy would only have resulted in excommunication from a select, mainstream scientific society, but times were changing and nobody could prevent his being harshly judged by Official Science. He could barely recall the number of lectures he had given in that infamous auditorium, but by dint of failure and fierce contention Jimmy had learned that the objective of such summary trials was not to punish him with the death penalty, as medieval heretics had suffered; what they really wished was to torture him. For the pleasure of the audience to be complete, however, that torture would have to be slow, ruthless, and above all intensely cynical. In recent years Jimmy’s passionate audience had been able to develop certain extraordinary qualities for the exercise of dialectical torture, just like the Catholic kings of the Spanish monarchy who had sublimated the Spanish Inquisition, bringing it to incredible levels of sophistication. The virtuosity of the questions they asked him was surprising. The repertoire varied in each conference from the tricky to the ironic to the inane, but the questions he truly feared were the caustic ones, those that with a high degree of verbal abusiveness caused such excitement and hubbub in the audience that most of the time they resulted in loud laughter. Institutional violence was legitimized and accepted by all. Well, not by all; he himself was not willing to accept scorn as a legitimate manner of imposing scientific law, but it was evident that his opinion did not hold much weight at the Institute.

Although aware of the punishment that awaited him, Jimmy did not like to disappoint. Once again he would strive to rise to the occasion; once again he would try to smash a stupid dogma of Official Science into pieces. That day he had no doubt that he would outdo himself, thus he had asked his son Xavier to attend in his capacity as visiting student at MIT, promising him a display of strong emotions. The boy did not hesitate to go, and for good reason; although only 16 years of age, he knew full well the degree of genius and madness in his father, and was also perfectly capable of understanding the conference. Due to his exemplary grades he had already managed to pass the entrance exams to Harvard Medical School.

The conference auditorium of the Institute could hold 700 attendees, and just as in the amphitheaters of ancient Greece, its layout provided excellent acoustics. From deep and gloomy Hades, as Jimmy called the place where the unfortunate orator stood, to diaphanous and celestial Olympus, each row rose exactly eight inches. In the first row, aligned and in perfect hierarchical order, sat the Institute’s most important professors and principal investigators. In the center of the row the ‘Holy Trinity’ presided over the procession, consisting of the eminent Dr. Bacon, Director of MIT; to his right, the prestigious Dr. Damon; and to his left the celebrated Dr. Erans, known in scientific circles as ‘the Scourge of MIT.’ He himself boasted of the nickname, declaring that his specialty was hunting down false scientists, and never bothering to hide the fact that stalking Jimmy was one of his preferred activities.

It’s like the Joint Chiefs of Staff are all lined up here! But I promise they won’t go away empty-handed, Jimmy thought to himself with a wry smile while watching the clock devour the two courtesy minutes. He reached inside the bag, took out his conference mug, and delicately placed it next to the microphone so the entire audience could see the face and name of his idol and mentor, the great genius Anaximander, the first evolutionist in history, who more than 2,500 years ago was the first to postulate that human beings originated from other animals, specifically from fish, and who had been shunned by Darwin, who had never named him. That was Jimmy’s way of providing a fitting tribute to the philosophical scientists of ancient Greece, a group of extraordinary thinkers who had been unjustly cataloged and lumped together under the pejorative title of ‘Pre-Socratics.’ The mug was Jimmy’s particular way of protesting the forgetfulness and contempt made of them by Plato and his disciple Aristotle, the ‘dualists and idealists’ as he liked to call them.

“What do you know, once again that lucky little mug of that Greek from I don’t know how many thousands of years ago,” commented Dr. Erans to Dr. Bacon, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I hope this time he behaves decently and doesn’t attack biopharmaceutical companies as he did three months ago,” Dr. Bacon replied.

“I truly hope so too.”

The entire MIT world with the exception of Jimmy was aware that you should not bite the hand that feeds you, especially given the fact that over 40% of the annual budget was comprised of research studies and donations contributed by biotechnology and pharmaceutical companies. Although it had been madness to attack them in the way that Jimmy had done in his previous conference, the rules were clear; as long as Jimmy continued as a Principal Investigator at MIT, Dr. Bacon in his capacity as Director was obligated to invite him to present his results every three months.

As the stragglers settled in and the room became silent, Dr. Damon looked around with a distracted air, giving the impression that she was not listening to the conversation of her colleagues. The disinterest was feigned, however; what she was doing was pretending, a thing she knew how to do perfectly. Christina Damon was a prominent doctor in Epidemiology and Public Health, but what she really specialized in was the art of camouflage, an ability that had led her to a privileged position at MIT and in the biopharmaceutical industry. She had even achieved the unprecedented milestone of having fooled the brilliant but wayward Jimmy, the ‘Mad Viking’ as some of his colleagues contemptuously called him, into believing her to be his only friend. Everyone was aware that Dr. Damon and Dr. Andersen had known each other for a long time, specifically since the final years of medical school when they had met in various seminars and symposia. Even back then ‘Ina,’ as her friends called her, had realized whenever she saw Jimmy involved in an argument that her friend had a brilliant mind. Unlike him, she had serious difficulties formulating novel and original ideas, which is why she had had to dedicate herself to management and put research aside. She had never fully accepted having to remove herself from the world of the laboratory, a renunciation that gnawed at her deeply. Ina was aware that she had an unresolved issue with Jimmy but was not willing to accept that the issue was named envy. Throughout her professional life she had developed a marvelous strategic capacity that had brought her many benefits, and was not willing to change this strategy even for a lost cause like Jimmy. No one could deny that even that naïve and crazy dreamer might one day be capable of generating profits, a powerful incentive that justified spending time and resources on a supposed friendship, especially since the investment required of her regarding Jimmy was minimal in comparison to the high rewards it could bring. She comforted herself with the thought that since she already spent so much time, money and effort on her three adorable little dogs, she could invest a little bit in that wretched man.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Damon chimed in, “this time he won’t talk about biopharmaceutical companies.”

“Oh no? Then what awaits us on this occasion?” Erans rolled his eyes ironically.

“Look how carefully and gently he puts that cup down! He told me today’s talk is about the evolution of the species Homo sapiens.”

“Dear God! Let’s see what happens this time,” Dr. Bacon replied, clutching his head with his right hand.

Dr. Erans and Dr. Damon covered their mouths in unison so that Jimmy could not see the hurtful smiles emerging.

From the last row Xavier could see his father in the distance, calculating that at least 50 yards separated them. Everything seemed prepared for what Jimmy had told him would happen, when that morning he had said with a sardonic smile, “I have asked the Bacchantes to help me organize the biggest Bacchanalia you’ll ever see.” Xavier, who knew of his father’s passion for Greco-Roman mythology, got the message to be ready for anything.

Just before beginning his presentation Jimmy saw Alisha, his brand new and to that point only collaborator, enter through the last door on the left. Upon seeing Xavier she sat at his side. Only a few days had passed since Jimmy had asked his son to pick up Dr. Patel at the airport on her arrival from King’s College London, and Xavier was delighted by the addition his father had made. Like him, the young doctor had managed to enter the University of Oxford at age 16, and just three months ago had defended her brilliant doctoral thesis at age 22. The two young people had immediately connected, and began to forge a great friendship from the moment they met.

On entering, Alisha beheld the MIT conference hall for the first time, and such was her impression that she could not stop thinking of the stage fright she would suffer in the improbable event that she would have to give a lecture there. With some incredulity she noted that her boss did not show any sign of cowardice; on the contrary, despite the solemn expression on his face he seemed to be in the mood for a fight.

Jimmy ended the two courtesy minutes, gently touched the great Anaximander’s face, and began his presentation.

“Good morning. I thank you for your attendance and I hope that my presentation will be of use to you,” he began, implying that he did not want any type of conflict.

“I doubt it will be of use to us,” Dr. Erans murmured.

The first slide showed a recreation of the faces of five species of the genus Homo featuring our species H. sapiens in the center, surrounded by H. erectus, H. neanderthalensis, H. floresiensis and H. denisova. Using a totally inappropriate voice rhythm foregoing almost all emphasis, Jimmy began his presentation.

“One hundred fifty thousand years ago, five very similar species of the genus Homo inhabited our planet, and for more than eighty thousand years they coexisted peacefully, sharing natural resources. But what happened seventy thousand years ago in the Middle East to cause the extinction of the Neanderthals that were living there? And after that, only twenty-eight thousand years ago, what caused the demise of the last of the Neanderthals, whose fossil remains were found in Gorham’s Cave in Gibraltar? The answer, dear colleagues, seems obvious – that natural selection initiated a conflict amongst species for the ecological niche, that Homo sapiens won, and that consequently, all other species of the genus Homo disappeared. Well, this ‘ecological niche’ is the euphemistic explanation, but the truth, if you will allow me to say it plainly, is that we simply had no qualms about bumping them off.”

The Scourge of MIT pounced like a rabid Doberman, abruptly interrupting Jimmy’s presentation.

“To be precise, Dr. Andersen, we cannot affirm that we deserve the blame for the brazen act that you just postulated. As you know perfectly well, or rather as you should know, we do not have any evidence that confirms what you have just asserted. What’s more, we all know that various theories exist with respect to the extinction of the Neanderthals and the one that you mention, that of the war with Homo sapiens, is only one of them. Therefore I suggest you not be so categorical when formulating your statements; there are many students in the room whom we must protect and, above all, prevent from being contaminated with arguments of the type that you have just expounded so vehemently.”

“You’re right, Dr. Erans, absolutely right.” Jimmy repeated the phrase while exhibiting a wry smile and nodding his head. The intimation lingered in the air that he was laughing at the Scourge of MIT.

Not content to leave it at that, he dropped another of his pearls.

“Although we should bear in mind that, at this very moment, we Homo sapiens have already well advanced the sixth mass extinction of the planet and that we are also thoroughly employed in the extinction of several races of our own species, such as the aborigines of Australia or those of South America, to name just a few.”

Erans pounced again. “I’m sorry, but I must insist. I disagree once more; there is no scientific evidence for what you mention.”

Jimmy smiled ironically again and muttered undetectably, “Racist bastard, if it were up to you you’d immediately wipe out anyone different from you, you’d only spare the Aryan males – six feet tall, blonde, fair-complexioned Caucasians.” He made an effort to control himself and continue with the presentation.

“Well, regardless of whether or not Homo sapiens wiped out the rest of the Homo species, the interesting thing is that they found themselves alone, because something happened to them. That something made them evolve seventy thousand years ago, permitting them to acquire the longed-for and desired position of supremacy in the phylogenetic tree of all species on the planet. That something seems to have been the acquisition of an elevated degree of complexity in their language which allowed them to definitively achieve the verbal level of language and, most importantly, the symbolic level. This, coupled with the high capacity that all Homo species had for learning, obviously including our own species, allowed the sapiens to pass to the next stage of evolutionary complexity, the stage I call ‘the level of teaching that which is learned.’ From that something…” – for already the fourth time Jimmy drew quotation marks in the air with his fingers when referring to that something – “…they were able to learn, as the rest of their Homo progenitors had already done for thousands of years. But for the first time a Homo species was able to efficiently ‘teach’ what was learned, and that, my dear colleagues, made them extremely competitive and, why not say it, dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“What you postulate is interesting, Dr. Andersen,” Dr. Damon interrupted. “Does that suggest that the sequence ‘learn – teach what was learned’ was the engine that made us what we are?”

“In part yes, but the sequence was not only ‘learn – teach what was learned,’” he diligently answered his friend. “The other Homo species already had that sequence, and we completed what they had with what I call ‘refutation by third parties.’ It was only in this way that the sapiens of the time knew that what they had learned really worked or, on the contrary, that it was not useful. That was the first step towards innovation, which in my opinion was what really made us who we are. And naturally, only then – when the efficacy of this new knowledge was confirmed by others – was it incorporated into the group’s heritage as something new to be utilized by all members.”

“But if I’m not mistaken, that seems to be an archaic form of the scientific method, don’t you think Dr. Andersen?”

“I certainly do think so, Ina,” smiled Jimmy, beginning to feel comfortable and addressing her by the name he always used in private. “The acquisition of a more sophisticated language together with an elevated symbolism allowed them to develop an archaic scientific method based on a rudimentary process of observation and experimentation followed by learning and, later, the teaching of that which was learned to other members of the group, which allowed these other members to refute, or not, the new knowledge. But in this case the refutation by third parties was very precarious because it was limited only to that collective. Obviously this limitation led to the existence of notable technological differences between the different groups of sapiens. For this reason, the sapiens continually traveled in search of new tools and technologies, interacting peacefully or aggressively with other tribes and incorporating anything that represented a technological advance into their community. I have called that era ‘the search for innovation.’”

“Interesting idea, but do you have any scientific evidence with which to support this surprising hypothesis?” interjected Erans.

“At the moment, no, it’s only a working hypothesis, but Dr. Erans you know me, I won’t give up until the experimental allows me to demonstrate it.”

“Ah, it’s only a hypothesis,” said Erans dryly, settling the discussion.

The laughter from the audience began to emerge timidly, enough for Jimmy to be conscious that the battle had begun and that he was only in the beginning stages of the immense Bacchanalia he had prepared for his dear companions.

“Yes, Dr. Erans, it’s just a hypothesis.” He smiled again while remarking inwardly, You disgusting white supremacist, why can’t you stay out of things just one fucking time?

“Well,” Jimmy continued, “I think everyone will agree with me that regardless of whether or not it was a species extermination on the part of Homo sapiens, and whether that something was the cause or not of the appearance of a more sophisticated language – I repeat, where you will agree with me is that seventy thousand years ago Homo sapiens experienced one or several mutations in the DNA of their genes that permitted them to evolve and thus distance themselves from their closest relatives.

“Do you agree with this statement, Dr. Erans?” Jimmy asked with a degree of sarcasm, to which Erans and the other prestigious professors in the front row simultaneously nodded their heads slightly.

“We all know that mutations in the DNA of genes do not generate new species by themselves, but increase the diversity of a population, giving rise to a set of individuals with different genes on which natural selection can act. However, since Darwin formulated these theories we have learned that natural selection does not reward genetic changes as such, but tends to conserve genes that function well; therefore it is evident that that selection acted by conserving the mutation or mutations that Homo sapiens underwent seventy thousand years ago. Are we still in agreement?” Hardly giving them a moment’s pause, Jimmy prepared to continue with his attack.

“Except for one nuance,” interrupted young Dr. Milan, the right hand man of the Scourge of MIT.

Jimmy detected the danger; the intervention of Milan meant that the battle had begun in earnest. True connoisseur of how a pack operates, he knew that when the alpha male – in this case, the Scourge of MIT – allows a young alpha to make an attack, this signals the rest of the pack to pluck up the courage and step to the forefront, because the prey is ripe for the taking.

“I’m anxiously awaiting that nuance, Dr. Milan,” Jimmy replied.

“Your approach is correct, Dr. Andersen, but from my humble point of view there is one aspect that’s a bit suspect. I will explain. Could a mutation or mutations as relevant as the ones we are talking about take place in such a short time? Those that made us take the evolutionary leap, that allowed us to reach the top of the phylogenetic tree of evolution – did they only require a few tens of thousands of years? How do you explain that, Dr. Andersen? Something does not add up, as I say; could it be that your argument is wrong and that everything started much earlier? That is to say, if we assume that Homo sapiens appeared more than one hundred fifty thousand years ago, could it not be that the mutation or mutations that you speak of began to exert their effects from that instant onwards? Why focus so much on that exact point of seventy thousand years ago? I don’t think that a mutation of this enormous depth would suddenly appear and that we would become the dominant species on the planet overnight. I humbly believe that evolution always takes place in a continuous way, not as a one-off event as you are proposing.”

“Brilliant dissertation, Dr. Milan, brilliant!” replied Jimmy. “But not for an instant did I want to insinuate that this something happened in a measly tens of thousands of years. What I have said, and what I repeat, is that the evidence we have, based on fossil studies, shows us that exactly seventy thousand years ago Homo sapiens began a new evolutionary stage characterized by an innovative lithic industry, and that the extinction of the Neanderthals simultaneously took place in the Near East, followed forty thousand years later by that of all other species of the genus Homo on the rest of the planet. If that something began to set in one hundred thousand years earlier or even more than that, then perfect, but what I affirm is that the scientific evidence at our disposal takes us to the time points seventy thousand and thirty thousand. If new evidence were to appear demonstrating other time points, however, it would make us change the date of the appearance of that something but would not make us change that something. Do you agree?”

The young alpha male nodded and fell silent, tucking his tail between his legs. Jimmy stared fixedly at Dr. Erans and gave him another wry smile. From the back row Alisha was enjoying watching her boss fight like a true lion in the midst of a battle that was starting to get interesting.

“Well then, if you’ll allow it, I’ll return to the line of thought initiated a few moments ago. One or more genetic mutations appeared in our species and were favored by natural selection, causing us to evolve. If that is true, which appears likely, we’ll have to answer several serious questions.” He deliberately paused a few seconds.

From the podium Jimmy could see the typical snaking movements that an audience makes when their bodies move in their seats, a sign that they are beginning to feel uncomfortable. The blow was enormous; Jimmy knew he had hit bone and that the appropriate moment to start the attack was approaching. But like a good general seasoned in great battles, he had changed his classic strategy for this occasion. First he would use his heavy artillery to wear them down, then the air strikes of his air support would weaken their defenses. Finally, to finish them off, his heavy infantry would do the dirty work and destroy them completely. In this way he would suffer hardly any casualties in his ranks, a strategy he had learned through failure. Never again would he confront them head on; any time he had, the engagement with the enemy army had left his arguments in disarray. This time at last he had changed his strategy and seemed to be doing well.

“Before you formulate the first question, allow me to make a short introduction to the subject. This past year, in April of 2003, the first data on the sequencing of the entire human genome began to appear in initial comparison studies with other species. We now know that chimpanzees and bonobos share ninety-nine percent of our genes. With regard to the Neanderthals the results are even more spectacular; they tell us that we share no less than ninety-nine-point-seven percent with them. This very high homology tells us that the genetic code almost in its entirety has remained unchanged and unmutated for millions of years. It seems that all primates produce very similar proteins that perform nearly the same role as in our genes. It is evident that the great apes are our closest living relatives and that the Neanderthals were our first cousins. The first question is therefore obvious – if only point-three percent differentiates us from Neanderthals, the mutation or mutations that made us what we are should be in that small part of our genome, right?” He glanced around the auditorium; everyone remained silent.

“But if this small difference refers to the total number of genes, everything becomes more complicated. Why is that? As we well know, as Homo sapiens we have about twenty-one thousand genes. Based on these numbers, dear colleagues, a mere sixty genes should differ between the Neanderthals and us. Thus when I say, ‘Everything becomes more complicated,’ I’m not saying it at random, I’m saying it because if we take into account that many of the differences present in the genome are observed in the genes themselves, then we will understand that the difference is much smaller. Come on, from a genetic point of view we are very similar! Quite possibly we differ in only a few dozen genes. That’s why whether we like it or not, all members of the Homo family possess nearly the same genes. And yes, although we have differences at first glance, our mental faculties being much more developed than in the Neanderthals would not be explained by a difference of only a few dozen genes.

“In consequence, through the lens of these data it becomes very difficult for us to be able to conclude that small variations in the genomes produce profound effects on our mental capacity. It does not seem, therefore, that we are facing a problem whose solution is based on the number of genes or large differences in their sequence. The reality points in another direction.”

The audience seemed absolutely disoriented, for the first time facing scientific evidence showing that our genes did not appear to be as important as the scientific community believed.

“Therefore I pose this question to you, dear colleagues. In order to shed light on how our mind and that something emerged seventy thousand years ago, shouldn’t the differences be much more significant?” He had planted the seed of doubt deeply. “I can affirm that to date nobody has been able to identify the new mutation or its new genes.

“Of course, others try to explain this problem by saying that the mental faculties of human beings do not have a material origin; that they would have to have been bestowed by a supernatural force, which many call God. But if it’s all the same to you, we’ll leave that subject for informal chats over coffee. We’re here to talk about science, not about beliefs and religions.”

Groans and deep breathing could be heard throughout the room. At that moment the faces of all the professors present exhibited progressively furrowing brows, especially those of the Holy Trinity. Jimmy let his ballpoint pen drop to the floor behind the lectern, and could not suppress a smile. As he picked it up, some people could hear something resembling a cackle. The battle was proceeding just as planned. The heavy artillery was beginning to destroy the turrets and walls of the castle, and the appropriate moment had arrived for the air force to discharge the entirety of its heavy and deadly cargo.

Xavier and Alisha were enjoying themselves in the back row, seeing how thickly Jimmy was laying it on while no one dared ask a thing. Only Dr. Bacon could muster the courage, which meant that the counterattack would be desperate but intense.

“On this particular point, I’d like to make a comment,” Bacon said.

Jimmy swallowed the saliva that had been pleasantly flooding his mouth up to that moment. The Director of MIT’s attack would be devastating, of that he was completely sure.

“Dr. Andersen, I have to admit that the approach you have used has been ingenious and certainly insightful, but from my point of view it contains enormous scientific fallacies. In your previous appearance three months ago you presented us with … let’s call it your new idea, or hypothesis, or project –I’m having trouble defining it– which if I remember correctly you called Project Darwin-Lamarck. What I do clearly remember is that with this apparently revolutionary project –how could it be otherwise, coming from you…”– he enunciated each word while forcing a false face of astonishment – “…you would try to change the paradigm of how to discover new drugs from biodiversity. Your idea was not very different from that of alternative medicines and shamanism, for God’s sake! In your presentation you set out the laudable but in our opinion impracticable desire that the origin countries of these natural resources – according to you, all in the Southern Hemisphere – would be the exclusive owners of these future medicines. As a result, it was more than evident that what you wanted was to change the balance of power and achieve a typical redistribution of wealth in the world. Dr. Andersen, allow me to remind you that a few blocks from here is a university from which several Nobel Prize winning economists have come. In short, if I were you I would make sure to focus on biological sciences…” A young student from the center of the auditorium tried to suppress a laugh that ended up sounding like a snort, while the rest of the audience murmured a bit.

“Today you are trying to convince us that the DNA of our genes is unimportant and that the great Charles Darwin and all the evolutionists, not to mention every molecular biologist and biochemist of the twentieth century, were wrong. You dare to say that this DNA is of hardly any use since it does not differ significantly amongst the different species of the genus Homo. That, my friend, is another absurdity, like that of your Project Darwin-Lamarck. Do you truly realize what you are trying to say? I advise you to be more cautious and think about the consequences that such claims carry. And lastly, yes, I am not ashamed to say that many of us believe the mental faculties of human beings have no material basis, and it’s obvious they are not attached to any gene, just as you say; we believe they are the product of God’s work. To state this we don’t need any ‘chats over coffee.’ It is enough for us to simply believe it profoundly.”

The attack had hit Jimmy where it hurt. Bacon had accused him of practicing fake science; had characterized Project Darwin-Lamarck as the height of pseudoscience; had threatened dire consequences if Jimmy continued along the same line of thought; and had even dared claim the origin of the human mind as divine and not material in nature. It was evident that Bacon had tired of hearing Jimmy’s nonsense. Alisha began to feel afraid and to wonder with whom she had come to work, and why she had so happily left King’s College London. Xavier could not stop looking at his father’s face and was surprised to see that after stoically receiving such a public reprimand from his Director, his countenance had hardly changed; he was still smiling and relaxed. Xavier could not understand the reason. He began to worry.

Jimmy looked closely at Dr. Damon and Dr. Erans, then at every other professor and principal investigator in the front row. Their expressions revealed happiness, their eyes shone, and their faces no longer frowned – quite the opposite. What no one suspected, however, was that the time for light refreshments had concluded and that now the main course and the desserts would be served. Because the moment was so special to him, Jimmy would even foot the bill for champagne.

“Dr. Bacon, if you’ll allow it, before answering the question I’ll be so bold as to ask if you’ve had the opportunity to review the data published just a week ago regarding the human genome, specifically those that refer to the junk DNA of our chromosomes?”

Bacon started, noticeably annoyed by Jimmy’s tone. “No, I’m sorry, the junk DNA of our chromosomes, which as we all know was described in the mid-seventies of the last century, was never one of my research topics and I think it will remain thus for a long time. I am not accustomed to wasting my time reading trashy stuff.”

The loud laughter was no longer hidden. It bubbled and spread through the 35 rows containing spectators enjoying the battle.

“I understand, Dr. Bacon, but if you don’t mind I’d like to extend the same question to the entire audience. Has anyone looked at the junk DNA data released from the sequencing of the entire human genome present in our chromosomes?”

“Dr. Andersen, do you truly believe that if our Director Dr. Bacon doesn’t waste his time on junk, the rest of us should waste ours? Don’t you know we already have you for that?” It was the Scourge of MIT who, licking his chops, had taken the floor.

The clamor reached the level of a village festival. The members of the Holy Trinity no longer hid their wide smiles while Alisha, in the back row, wanted to die. Her mind was racing and all she could ask herself was, How could I have thrown away my entire experience at King’s College to cross the Atlantic and come work with the laughingstock of MIT? She wanted to win the Nobel Prize in Medicine and would never achieve it like this. She did not know how to sit in her chair nor even how to act. Xavier himself could not see Bacchus nor his Bacchae however much he tried, even though he knew his father so well. Jimmy bit his lower lip, muttering to himself, “Okay, now you deserve to be drowned in the sea of your pestilential ignorance just for being mediocre scientists, so go ahead Jimmy, launch all combat aircraft immediately and discharge all the weaponry they contain.”

For the next 20 minutes he expounded on the topic of his presentation in an orderly fashion, completely destroying the Holy Trinity and leaving the rest of the front row of professors and principal investigators showing next to no vital signs. In the background in row 35, furthest row of Olympus, a proud and now satisfied Xavier and an exuberant Alisha shone like the aurora borealis.

This time it was Dr. Damon who took center stage. Both Bacon and Erans showed a complete lack of strength to further discuss the issue; their defeat seemed absolute. Ina, who until now had shown reticence, radically changed the way she addressed he who at that moment had become her great friend again. Like a prized scent hound, her sense of smell was hypertrophied and she began to detect the existence of a lucrative opportunity. On this occasion all the neurons in her olfactory bulb fired in unison, sending large waves of information to her finely-tuned cerebral cortex.

“If we have understood correctly, my dear Jimmy, you are telling us that a week ago it was confirmed that the junk DNA of our chromosomes is made up of no less than two billion nine hundred forty million base pairs, or in other words fifty times more than the DNA of genes, the classic DNA we have all taught our students about for more than fifty years in every university. And you’re also saying that the differences in this junk DNA that exists between us and chimpanzees and Neanderthals are six percent and four percent, respectively. That is to say that our junk DNA contains no less than one hundred eighty and one hundred twenty million different base pairs than that of those other species. Is that right, Jimmy?” Without letting him answer, she proceeded. “But I have also understood that the DNA of our genes contains approximately sixty million base pairs, meaning that the differences in junk DNA would come to represent three and two times the entire DNA of our genes, respectively. Is that correct?”

“Well, my dear Ina, I had taken you to be younger, but if you say you’ve been teaching at the university for fifty years, who am I to contradict you!” The student part of the room burst into laughter, which made Ina smile too, condescendingly. Jimmy did not have the slightest touch for jokes and always made them at inappropriate times. “Yes, it’s exactly as you say. There is a universe of difference between species in terms of junk DNA, and that is where our tremendous genetic power lies. It is the junk DNA that makes us what we are, and I predict that within the next few years we will perfectly understand why we are the way we are, and that this will be thanks to the fact that we will discover all the secrets that junk DNA hides.”

“Okay, Jimmy,” proceeded Ina with her doubts. “But on the other hand, do you maintain the claim that junk DNA exists in the interior of our chromosomes, and that it is responsible for the expression of a certain profile of genes and that, on the contrary, others are switched off, that is, inhibited? Is that how it is?

“And finally, if you permit me, my great friend…” – Jimmy began to suspect something strange, but even so, he loved to be treated with gentleness in that room where so many times he had received the ridicule of the crowd – “…can I ask you to clarify what I think is most difficult for us to understand? Are you saying that it is possible that not all the cells in our body have the same amount of DNA and that in some there is more DNA than in others? You must understand that ever since I completed my medical studies I’ve been accompanied by the dogma that says that all the cells of an organism always have the same quantity and quality of DNA. Now are you telling us that this is not so?

“And one more thing,” added Ina, who appeared overwhelmed. “I’m sorry, I know I told you that that last one was my final question, but from the tone of your presentation I believe I have detected that you have results. Why don’t you tell us a bit about what you’ve discovered? Based on your enthusiasm one could interpret that they are in line with what you have explained to us, isn’t that right?” She said this last part almost breathlessly.

The room fell into a funeral silence. For all those present, various dogmas were on the point of falling in the battle. Absolutely nothing could be heard; not even the flies with their annoying buzzing dared desecrate that sacred moment, and for that Jimmy thanked them sincerely. Indeed, he was experiencing one of those marvelous and exclusive moments that a simple mortal can enjoy but sporadically throughout their ephemeral lives, one of those absolutely unrepeatable moments that demand respect from all, including the blasted flies.

With an emphatic voice he enunciated slowly this time, to add solemnity to the act. “Alright, I’ll try to answer the questions following the order in which Dr. Damon has proposed them.

“With respect to the first question, as Professor Bacon so clearly illustrated to us and as you all know, the term ‘junk DNA’ appeared in the seventh decade of the last century to refer to segments of the DNA present in our chromosomes that seemingly serve no purpose. At that time junk DNA was believed to be of little importance and was not at all thought to comprise the majority. We are now in a position to affirm that yes, junk DNA represents ninety-eight percent of the total amount of our DNA, and that the ‘classic’ DNA of our genes, as Dr. Damon referred to it, represents only a pyrrhic two percent. That is to say that in the interior of our chromosomes, ninety-eight percent is apparently junk.”

He paused to take a sip of water and allow them to think.

“You may understand that it was for these reasons that we began to ask ourselves about the meaning and the purpose of all of this ‘junk.’ Our first conclusion was obvious – that it is an absurdity and makes no sense that ninety-eight percent of the DNA present in our chromosomes has no function. I ask all of you to do a thought exercise with me. Imagine that our forty-six chromosomes with their six billion base pairs are a three-hundred-page book containing some seven hundred thousand letters. What we have believed up to now was that only six pages made any sense – the ones corresponding to our genes – and that the remaining two hundred ninety-four were simply junk. Would anyone in their right mind believe it makes sense to edit a book in which two hundred ninety-four pages serve no purpose? Of course not. Nowadays, my friends, we can affirm that the ‘junk DNA’ of our chromosomes is anything but junk. On the contrary, it is that which makes us what we are. That’s why, dear colleagues, I advise you to spend a little of your precious time learning something about ‘this trashy stuff.’ I sincerely believe it may be very helpful to you.” Jimmy stared fixedly at Dr. Bacon and glanced sideways at Dr. Erans, giving them a delicate and hurtful smile before proceeding with his dissertation.

“Regarding the second question, Dr. Damon, I can tell you that we are beginning to learn that the genetic information our chromosomes transport is used in a specific form for each cellular type. And it is junk DNA that shapes that cellular identity. But there’s something even more surprising! The cells do this work in teams, forming networks that control the expression of the distinct genes in order to get them to work at their maximum performance level. Furthermore, this part of the DNA doesn’t coordinate just one single gene but hundreds of genes simultaneously, activating some and inhibiting others. Do you comprehend the importance that this holds? Now we are beginning to learn that it is our species that has the most sophisticated junk DNA of any species on the planet; in this aspect we are privileged.” The audience looked deep in concentration and a little perplexed.

“As for the third question, I can confirm that the archaic idea that an organism always has the same DNA in all of its cells, both in quantity and in quality, has been shattered into a million pieces. Now, for example, we know that some neurons contain more DNA, but we don’t know why or for what reason. However, I’ll speak further on that fascinating topic at a later date if you don’t mind, and at that time I think I’ll be able to debate with Dr. Bacon and with anyone else who agrees with the postulates that our Director has so vehemently put forth, about the non-material origin of our mental faculties. It should be clear that it won’t be a ‘chat over coffee,’ and I will avoid any reference to beliefs or religions. I’ll stick to scientific facts.” Dr. Bacon’s face clearly showed the disgust provoked by Jimmy’s irreverent words but cautiously chose not to intervene. It was the wrong moment and would have been very damaging had he entered a discussion he knew he would not win.

“Regarding your last question about any possible results I may have, I can affirm that yes I have some, although to this point they are very preliminary. Nonetheless, if you will allow it, I’ve prepared a few slides that will shed some light on the topic.” He pressed a button on the remote control to bring up the first slide. “Here you can see the results obtained from the study of one hundred human brain samples, from post-mortem donations.”

The audience did not move a muscle. The slide showed that the total concentration of DNA in the brain was extremely elevated in 10 samples when compared to that of another organ such as the kidney, indicating that it was only the neurons that had more DNA. The same slide showed the complete sequencing of DNA, and it became clear to everyone that the Mad Viking had discovered a new mutation in junk DNA. This mutation consisted of a palindromic sequence made up of 500 nucleotide bases, present in all of the organs of the body, but it was only in the brain where the mutation appeared in the form of copies that were repeated up to 500 times. In the rest of the organs and tissues of the body it appeared only one time, without repeating itself. An icy chill began to descend in the conference hall; a mutation in junk DNA that repeated itself up to 500 times solely in the brain was truly a striking discovery.

Ina, ecstatic, interrupted him once again to put his ideas in order.

“Jimmy, are you saying that one hundred percent of individuals have one single copy of the junk DNA mutation in all organs, but that ten percent additionally have up to five hundred copies in their brains?”

“Yes, we can conclude that,” he answered, “but I’ve got more; may I continue?” He said this with the faintest outline of a smile. “Only brain samples that had elevated DNA levels had the mutation repeated up to five hundred times. In the rest of the brain samples that didn’t have augmented quantities in their DNA, the mutation only appeared one time, just as in the rest of the organs in the body.”

This time, Erans interrupted. “Do you mean to say that the increase in the DNA amount that you have detected in the brains is mainly because of the increase in number of the copies of the mutation?”

“Exactly right,” responded Jimmy. “But you will be able to observe on the next slide that I also have the demographic data of each subject, including their education level and their intelligence quotient or IQ, which, being a numerical value, can assist us in categorizing the samples according to their level of intelligence, as you well know. And it is here where it seems we have discovered something that may be especially fascinating!” By this point Jimmy, who was nearly shouting, gave a prolonged pause before moving to the next slide.

Erans, who could scarcely contain himself any longer, unconsciously let out a shrill “And…?”

Jimmy smiled at the state of his colleague and everyone else in the front row, including the members of the Holy Trinity. Although he knew they were mediocre scientifically, he was also aware that their level of intelligence would help them understand that the worst was yet to come.

“As can be observed in this table, a higher number of copies is associated with a higher IQ score. From this I can affirm that this new mutation in junk DNA is associated with a higher intelligence level in human beings. What I mean, dear colleagues, is the more junk DNA in the brain, the more intelligence,” he stated without flinching.

A sea of hands shot up with questions but Jimmy ignored them and proceeded.

“Before presenting the preliminary conclusions of my studies I would like to clarify a few statements and pose a few questions to the audience, questions I feel obligated to ask while being conscious that they may alter our delicate state of mind a touch more.” Jimmy had reserved his nuclear arsenal to deploy last.

“Get ready, Alisha! Hang on to your seat! Here comes the crescendo,” Xavier whispered with a laugh to his companion, who was quickly becoming his friend. It was now beyond doubt that the Bacchantes would begin to serve the elixir that both his father and his father’s favorite god, the great Bacchus, loved so much. Xavier relaxed to enjoy the last moments of the conference.

“As I mentioned before,” resumed Jimmy, “throughout these last seventy thousand years the transmission of the empirical or experiential knowledge of Homo sapiens has reached a higher level. This has allowed us as a rational species to achieve great milestones, among which the domestication of plants and animals, the creation of structured societies and the acquisition of a high level of technological development – especially architectural – stand out.

“However, if we analyze these seventy thousand years in greater depth we will observe that just four hundred or even fewer years ago, the technological development of Homo sapiens experienced a much greater growth to that of the previous sixty-nine thousand six hundred years. Until four hundred years ago human beings had hardly generated any relevant discoveries. Humans evidently lived at a much lower intellectual and mental level than the one we have enjoyed for the past four hundred years, and even more so in the last two centuries. This breach in human advancement is ever widening. Take a look at the list of discoveries and inventions outlined on the next slide. I know this list can be a bit overwhelming and that it seems endless, but I think that sometimes you have to underline the obvious, even if for many it does not seem obvious or even is not obvious. In the last four hundred years we have invented and/or discovered deterministic physics, the microscope, steam engines, the theory of evolution, electricity, the automobile, vaccines, the telephone, the radio, pasteurization, radioactivity, electromagnetism, atomic theory, cell division, anesthesia, X-rays, the laws of heredity, the laws of thermodynamics, antibiotics, semiconductors, the airplane, the personal computer, nuclear fission, rockets, televisions, lasers, electrons, protons, neutrons, CDs, DVDs, the internet, quarks, neurotransmitters, DNA, oncogenes, chromosomes, the genome, restriction enzymes, serial endosymbiosis, barcode scanners, neurosciences, mirror neurons, the theory of relativity, quantum physics, the expanding universe, insulin, the DNA of our ancestors, the detection of gravitational waves in black holes, exoplanets, the return of information from space probes, cell reprogramming, and junk DNA – this just recently – among a great many other things.

“I ask you to undertake the practical exercise of looking for discoveries and inventions relevant to human life prior to the seventeenth century. You will only be able to find a few such as the wheel, the printing press, gunpowder, and a handful of others. Nothing relevant when compared to the long list that I have shown you, which could have been much longer, but I didn’t want to draw it out since we all have to go home tonight.” The audience barely moved in their seats.

“Thus, if we believe that we already had the appropriate cerebral hardware and software at the time of our birth as an innovative and thinking species some seventy thousand years ago when we took the evolutionary leap that catapulted us to the top of the phylogenetic tree, how is it possible that we did not achieve everything much sooner?

“Is it perhaps that all of a sudden we started a rampant discovery craze a couple of hundred years ago?

“Are we to conclude that we pointlessly wasted time for sixty-nine thousand six hundred years?

“If we believe it took sixty-nine thousand six hundred years to become the technological species that we now are, in my humble opinion we are fooling ourselves, and as we all know, cheating at solitaire will never get you anywhere.

“But another explanation may exist which quite possibly has to do with another something that has been happening with Homo sapiens for only four hundred years.” Jimmy went back to making quotation marks in the air, the way he liked to do to highlight that other something.

“Is our species evolving again?

“Do we have another new mutation or mutations in the making?

“Does another species of Homo sapiens live among us, much more advanced?

“If so, will it treat us as we treated the other Homo species?”

Dr. Bacon straightened himself in his chair and decided to intervene.

“My dear James…” – for the hero of the day it was very strange to be called by his given name and not his surname or nickname, as had always been done – “…I must admit that your exhibition has fulfilled every expectation I had for it. You must agree with me that you are an incorrigible being; not content simply with destroying various dogmas of biology, you now threaten us with questions intended to cloud our understanding. Are you proposing the hypothesis that there is a new species of much more intelligent human beings amongst us? All that remains for you to say is that this new Homo species will follow the postulates of neo-Darwinism and that, in short, they will displace us as, according to you, we did with the previous species of our genus.” Visibly fatigued, Bacon ended his intervention for the moment.

“Dr. Bacon, as you may be able to imagine, I am unable to predict the future, although I have never intended to do so either. However, yes, in my humble opinion I sincerely believe that a new species of Homo has coexisted with us for at least the past four centuries at minimum. I would like to propose that they be called Homo scientificus. At any rate, what I don’t know is whether any of us belong to this new species, or if they will act in a belligerent manner towards Homo sapiens or not. And obviously, as you full well know, it is currently impossible to access human brains and perform blind biopsies in healthy individuals; nevertheless I would like to relay to you that I am working on an idea which may be able to help me identify who is a Homo sapiens and who a Homo scientificus.” He had punctuated his points plethorically.

“Homo scientificus? Doesn’t that name seem a bit pompous?” asked Erans, disoriented.

“You don’t like the name, Dr. Erans?” responded Jimmy, ironically.

“In my opinion we are scientificus, you and us, or any other professional working in this or another institute or university. But please, Dr. Andersen, an entire species cannot be called scientificus. I ask you, will all of the members of the species become scientists? Will they live and breathe and dedicate their entire lives to following the precepts of the scientific method?”

“Exactly, Dr. Erans! You have perfectly defined the new Homo species. I believe that it is a species comprised of human beings who ‘live and breathe and dedicate their entire lives to following the precepts of the scientific method,’ no more and no less.

“Staring us in the face is a mutation in junk DNA. This mutation is present in all human beings, but a small portion of no greater than ten percent has a variation in the number of copies in their brains in which a higher number of copies of the mutation corresponds to a higher IQ, indicating that the number of copies is correlated to the level of intelligence. All of this indicates to us that this new mutation may be responsible for the fact that in the past four hundred years the curve of technological discoveries and inventions has experienced exponential growth. This has undoubtedly occurred because the scientific method has been applied systematically and on a mass scale. It is more than evident that this new species is formed of individuals who apply the scientific method to everything; who base their form of life on continuous experimentation and refutation by third parties. But, my dear friends! It is evident that our current technological society already lives and is organized following the precepts of the scientific method. Everything is validated through experimentation, and nothing is based on words or on prior experience or on beliefs or on religious faith; none of that has anything to do with advancement, meaning that it serves no purpose. We can definitely say that the time of philosophy and of technology has met its demise, that the Aristotles and Platos, all of the idealists and dualists, and all of the great theological philosophers must be trembling in their graves; these are the days of science. Whether we like it or not, the days of Copernicus, Galileo, Newton, Bacon, and a long list of illustrious scientists have more or less finally arrived.” Jimmy took a deep breath and stood, calm and smiling, enjoying his own diatribe.

“As I was saying, in the global world in which we live, everything is subjected to experimentation and verification, and everything is published and made known nearly in real time, not only in the field of science but also in any other scope of human activity. The question of questions is, for what reason? Well, it’s so that it can be immediately refuted by thousands or even millions of human beings or, if it’s something that works, so that it can be incorporated into the heritage of the entire species – not just in one tribe or one nation, but the whole world. There is no doubt that we are living in a society based on the systematic implementation of the scientific method. It’s evident that these new human beings belong to a new species of Homo and that their name should be scientificus,” said Jimmy, punctuating his words with a deep breath. “At that I will say, have a great day and thank you to everyone for your attention!” Without allowing anyone the chance to pose questions he abruptly ended the presentation, gathered the mug with the face and name of Anaximander, gave it a kiss as he always did at the conclusion of his lectures, and delicately returned it to its paper bag.

The deep breathing from the entire hall made the air seem solid. There was no applause, as applause was not customary. Having finished the presentation Jimmy quickly got off the lectern, not willing to answer any questions and wanting to enjoy the moment down to its last second. As he was heading towards the exit he was approached by Ina Damon, who had sprung from her seat like a tigress and who, due to the extra weight she had accumulated over the years from continuous business meals, showed clear signs of labored breathing.

“Jimmy, my dear,” she said breathlessly, “you can’t do this to me, you have to show me what you’ve discovered! You cannot tease me like that, telling me your results are preliminary and showing me graphs and tables! You know that what you have in your hands could be very important and that you will surely need my help to keep working on the issue.”

“Give me some space, Ina – when I have more solid results you’ll be the first to see them. But don’t misunderstand me – I’m going to need a lot of time to confirm what I’ve discovered, and when I say a lot of time, I’m referring to years. I don’t know how many, but I know for sure it’ll be a lot. So please have a little patience, and trust me.” He ended the conversation by opening the door of the auditorium and exiting into the corridor.

Christina Damon did not trust anyone, least of all Jimmy, a fact which was indisputable. Thus whatever the price, she had to know what he had discovered.

Xavier and Alisha were waiting exultantly in the hallway, smiling from ear to ear. Alisha took the laptop Jimmy had used for the lecture and held her hand out for the paper bag with the mug to return it to his office. Xavier hugged him tightly to show how proud he was of him.

“Alisha, sorry, but the cup stays with me. Do you think you could find me something for this headache? I feel like my meninges are about to explode.” Jimmy looked exhausted.

“Yes of course, I’ve only been here two days but I’ll move heaven and earth until I find a pain reliever, don’t worry. Can I bring it to you in your office?” she asked affectionately.

“Yes please, and would it be too much to ask for an extra-large coffee? I know that isn’t included in your functions as a post-doctoral student, but we’re in an extreme emergency situation, and your boss may die in the next few moments if he doesn’t have a coffee and an analgesic, and then you’d be out of work and what’s worse, you’d have to abandon the junk DNA issue.”

“Not at all! How could I not go get you a coffee? It doesn’t bother me one little bit that it’s not in my contract, because for the sake of junk DNA I might even be capable of murder,” she replied, smiling.

“May your God reward you with an abundance of offspring! You already know that my God is not up to that task and, furthermore, doesn’t even exist. I’ll wait for you in my office. Don’t forget the pain reliever!”

“Okay, but be prepared, because you’re going to have to explain everything to me about the new Homo species and the mutation in the junk DNA you discovered in the brain, okay boss?” Alisha started walking back down the hall to the cafeteria, but first had time to regale him with another of her marvelous smiles.

The conference attendees leaving the auditorium were able to hear Alisha’s loud laughter, which identified the new collaborator of the most controversial researcher at MIT to everyone. Meanwhile, Jimmy put his right arm around Xavier’s shoulders and walked proudly down the hall.

The junk DNA regulating the expression of many of the genes codifying the mania of the Mad Viking very often played dirty tricks on him, but other times it helped him, allowing the hammer of Thor to appear in his hands to help him smash this or that archaic scientific dogma into a thousand pieces.

At the end of the conference, the members of the Holy Trinity remained alone in the auditorium.

“Gentlemen, I think we have a very serious problem,” said Ina. “It’s one thing to practice science and quite another to endanger the whole of society. If the rumor gets out that a researcher at MIT affirms that there’s a new species of human beings amongst us, and that on top of that it’s much more intelligent, I predict many problems, and not just for the Institute.”

“How about we call a Council meeting?” proposed Erans.

“Yes,” replied Bacon. “I’ll convene it as rapidly as possible, but it’ll take a while because Archbishop O’Brien is away and Dr. Bohr is in Oregon for the national meeting of Presidents and CEOs of the biopharmaceutical industry.”

“Wonderful,” said Erans sarcastically. “But the most difficult will be McNamara – we all know that the people in high political positions in our nation are always very busy.”

“Well, my dear friends, it has been a very hard day. Let’s rest, but let’s also stay on top of this serious problem,” said Ina. “This has to be meticulously organized. We can’t allow it to get out of hand; there’s a limit to everything.”

The last to leave was Dr. Bacon. If Jimmy had entered the MIT conference hall to give his lecture with little conviction, a slow step and a listless countenance, it was the Director who now brought up the rear with barely enough strength to turn off the lights and close the main door. Crestfallen and defeated, he got into the elevator that took him to the noblest floor of the A-120 building at MIT, the fifth. He found himself truly upset and kept going over the things Jimmy had explained; it had been a long time since he had felt a similar sensation. With little conviction, he let himself be taken away by one of the automatisms lodged in the deep layers of his reptilian brain, and pressed button number five. When the doors were about to close, a hand blocked them.

“Please, Donald, don’t forget to convene the Council,” Ina reminded him with extreme delicacy. He responded in turn with a hand gesture apparently meant to indicate that there was nothing to worry about and that he would have news for her shortly. When the elevator finally began to rise he took a deep breath, clutched his head with both hands while bending his neck to his chest, and looked down at the floor.