The Source - Michael Cordy [93]
'They found nothing?' said Hackett. 'No stem-cell promoters? Nothing that might explain how it repairs DNA?'
The nun shook her head.
'I suspect that what drives life in this place is a precursor to DNA,' said Ross.
Hackett thought for a moment. 'You mean this whole place could be working on something like RNA? Or something even more primitive?'
'Whatever's the most primitive form of life,' said Ross. 'As a geologist the only way I can explain this place is if it's a throwback to when life first began on Earth. It may even be the place where life began. If DNA is like the Microsoft Windows software of life, then whatever's behind this garden is DOS or whatever came before that. This is the base programming behind DNA. The stuff that makes DNA. It might not exist anywhere else in the world. That's why labs can't detect it. They've never seen it before. They've no idea what they're looking for.'
Hackett was nodding. 'It seems as if every organism here has evolved different phenotypes from those in the outside world. Part of that could be environmental, due to its isolation, but a greater part could be that it stems directly from a more primitive genotype.'
'What the hell's the difference between a phenotype and a genotype?' asked Zeb.
'A genotype is an organism's genetic makeup, its book of instructions,' said Hackett. 'A phenotype is its physical form, what it looks like, determined by genes and environment. For example, your hair, skin and eye colour are largely determined by your genotype but expressed in your phenotype. The point is most creatures have evolved separate genotypes and phenotypes. The human genotype, for example, uses its phenotype to survive – by making our bodies want to have sex so we pass on our genes. But many evolutionary biologists believe that the first living organisms were so basic they were just bundles of instructions. The genotype was the phenotype. The software was the hardware. There was no secondary body. If life here is as primitive as Ross believes, then the base genotype, the original instructions for life, might still exist in its primal form, whatever that is.'
'This place can't be explained by science,' said Mendoza, solemnly. 'It's sacred. It's too important to be left to scientists or businessmen. Only the Church can know what's best for a place like this.'
'Which church?' said Sister Chantal.
Mendoza frowned disapprovingly. 'You're a Roman Catholic nun. There's only one church that can decide what's best for this place.'
Sister Chantal shook her head. 'A great man, a priest, once said that this place was the Garden of God and I believe him. It is sacred. Too sacred for any church or religion to control.' She gave a weary sigh. 'Let me tell you how this place was discovered and why my friends, Ross and Zeb, accompanied me here.' For the next few minutes she talked about Orlando Falcon, the Voynich, Lauren Kelly and Father General Leonardo Torino. Hackett and Mendoza listened, rapt, until she was finished.
But Mendoza was unconvinced. 'Sister, you'd rather entrust the future of this garden to a woman lying unconscious in hospital than to your own church?'
'Once Lauren Kelly has been cured I can hand over my burden. I'm simply fulfilling my vow. No more, no less. All I ask is that you fulfil yours.'
Hackett turned to Ross. 'You think the Father General could have been behind your wife's injury?'
'I've no proof, but I wouldn't put it past him after what happened with the bandits on the river.'
'But he's a senior officer of the Roman Catholic Church!' said Hackett.
'Then I guess they must really want this place.'
'So when do we leave?' asked Zeb.
'Tomorrow. We'll return first to the lost city.' Sister Chantal turned to Hackett and Mendoza. 'For your gold. Then Ross, Zeb and I shall go back to America.'
Hackett laid a hand on Ross's shoulder. 'We may have lost Juarez,' he said sadly, 'but it appears our trip into the jungle wasn't