Fifty Degrees Below - Kim Stanley Robinson [84]
Marta frowned. She didn’t like Yann saying even this much.
Frank felt his stomach shrinking. He and Marta had been together for four very intense years, and their breakup had been so terrible . . . the dread and remorse from that time were like a vise inside him still, ready to clamp down any time he thought about it. A lot of what had happened between them had been his fault. He had known that for most of the last year, but now it was all falling on him again. Anger vibed across the table at him in waves, and he couldn’t meet her gaze.
Yann appeared oblivious to all this. It was kind of hard to believe. It was also hard to imagine these two together. Yann was describing some of the tweaking he had done to his algorithm, and Frank did his best to follow, and to ask the questions he had come down to ask. How did that work? How would that work? Would more research funds speed the work on it? It was important to concentrate. It was important to get a better fix on how Pierzinski’s work was progressing. Frank still had ideas about where it could go, and he wanted to talk about that.
But it became clear Yann had changed emphasis during his time at Small Delivery. At first Frank didn’t follow the significance of the changes. “So you’re engineering changes in lichen?” he asked, feeling that Marta’s glare was making him stupid.
Marta answered for Yann. “It’s not about human health anymore,” she said, sharply. “We’re interested in engineering a tree lichen that will incorporate carbon into the host trees much faster than they do naturally.”
Frank sat back. “So, a kind of carbon sink thing?”
“Yes. A kind of carbon sink thing.”
Frank thought it over. “Why?” he said finally.
Yann said, “The problems with gene uptake in humans were getting too complicated, we just couldn’t. . . .”
“We couldn’t make it work,” Marta said flatly. “No one can. It may be the showstopper for the whole idea of gene therapy. They can’t get altered genes into cells without infecting them with a virus, and a lot of times that’s a really bad idea. That’s what it comes down to.”
“Well, but these nanobits look promising,” Yann said enthusiastically. “We’re making little bits of metal? They hold DNA on one side, and then when the metal bits imbed in cell walls, the DNA leaves the nanobits and crosses inside and is taken up.”
“In vivo?”
“No, in vitro, but they’re about ready for phase ones.”
“We,” Marta corrected him.
“Yeah, but the other lab. And we’re working on some Venter viruses too, you can build some pretty harmless viruses that alter the bacteria they jump into. The algorithms there are about the same as the lichen augmenters.” Suddenly he looked at his watch. “Hey, I’m sorry Frank, but I have to go. I had a previous appointment I can’t let down.”
Abruptly he stood and extended a greasy hand to Frank, shook hands briefly, and with a quick wave to Marta was out the door.
Frank stared at the space Yann had vacated. What was Yann thinking, this was an appointment they had made, Frank had flown down for it! And now here he was alone with Marta. It was like the things that tended to happen in his nightmares, and quickly fear began to fill him.
“Well,” he said experimentally.
Marta continued to alternate between staring and glaring. Unbidden, and indeed squirting out with the sudden force characteristic of the return of the repressed, he recalled her on the beach at Cardiff Reef, shouting leave me alone.
“Look,” he said abruptly, as if cutting her off in the middle of a rant, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey. You don’t sound sorry.”
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Frank pursed his lips, tried to achieve a level tone. It was a fair enough question after all.
“I’m sorry I borrowed money on the house without telling you about it. I owe you some money because of that.”
“You owe me more than that.”
Frank shrugged. “Maybe so. But I figure I owe you about $18,400 on the house deal.” He was surprised how readily the figure came to mind. “I can at least pay