El Oso turned onto his side lying on the gurney, so he could see El Hombre Delgado. The man reminded him of a bird, some kind of stork or crane—impossibly thin, his back rounded from years stooping to peer into microscopes. Mostly it was the hooked beak that protruded from his face just below coke-bottle glasses that had the affect of magnifying his eyes. Perhaps he should have been nicknamed El Hombre Pajaro, The Birdman.
"Why are you staring at me?" Delgado had his back to The Bear and he hadn't moved a muscle. He continued to peer into the microscope into a world only he understood.
"I wanted to ask you a question, but I didn't want to interrupt." El Oso was startled—the man truly seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
"What is your question?" Delgado's response came out in a sibilant lisp.
"What are you trying to achieve?" El Oso didn't understand why the doctor didn't declare success and publicize his accomplishments to the world. Deep down, he resented having to hide his power.
"Ultimately: immortality—in the near term, I would accept stability." Delgado's answer was matter of fact.
"What do you mean by 'stability'?" El Oso watched the doctor intently. The idea of crossing the room and grabbing his scrawny little neck and snapping it came unbidden to his mind for the umpteenth time. The fantasy lingered and he felt himself shift in anticipation before forcing himself to calm down. Killing the doctor would be his own death sentence, for without the treatments he would terminate.
The doctor was always careful to remind him of this when they met.
"Reproduction—and of course the need for repeated treatments must be overcome." Delgado loved his work and passion rang through in his voice.
"Why is reproduction so important if cloning works?"
"Reproduction is the line across which lies divinity—we can create many life forms but they are all short-lived. Man has been breeding horses and donkeys for centuries to make mules, but mules cannot reproduce. Neither can anything I have created in here. To genuinely create new life, it must have the power of reproduction unaided."
"Has anyone every done it?"
"As far as we know, that feat has only been accomplished once—a singularity—never to be recreated." Delgado snickered at his own pun. "The man who creates a life form that can reproduce itself can legitimately claim to be the God of that new species."
El Oso squinted at the narrow bony back. Does he consider himself my God? He had to admit that he needed El Hombre Delgado, in fact, he couldn't live without his treatments. Is there some way I can learn to treat myself? Then I could be my own God!
"How do you do it?" El Oso wasn't genetically inclined to wait on an impulse.
"What do you mean?" Delgado paused and pulled away from the microscope without turning.
"My treatments. What are you doing to make me feel better?" The man's perception was otherworldly. El Oso backtracked to focus on his own treatments, questions about the general process might cause the doctor to be suspicious of his intentions.
"It's really the same as the initial process. I use gold nanoparticles to deliver recombinant DNA and for RNA interference. The gold facilitates entry through the cell wall, but the truly fascinating thing is that it can be used to precisely target and bind fragments of genetic material to splice into genetic variants. Maybe it is difficult for you to understand?" Delgado thought: Perhaps he understands better than I ever could?
"Isn't there a less expensive delivery vehicle?" El Oso looked at the pan filled with gold dust sitting next to the doctor, and container after container lining the shelves. No matter how much he delivered, the doctor always required more of the fine gold powder, which was not easy to acquire given the state of Cuba's economy.
"Less expensive, yes. Also, less effective. Do you want me to use a less effective delivery vehicle for your treatments?" With that last, the doctor turned and leered at El Oso in an almost perverted way.
It made El Oso feel small. Nothing made El Oso feel small.