Leland Stottlemeyer set down his cellphone and with a sigh of relief returned to bed.

"Was that her?" Leland's wife T.K. asked as he pulled back the covers and sat down.

He nodded once. "He made it home, safe and sound."

T.K. exhaled. "Well, that's good. Now you can stop worrying. Did she say where he went?"

"Nope." Leland replied. "Just a simple text that he was home and that he'd probably be out tomorrow."

"That's a little strange. Don't you think it's strange?"

"The whole thing is strange, – and with Monk, that's saying a lot. Trudy, I try not to worry. I mean, it's like you said, he's a grown man. But I've watched that man go through hell and back multiple times. I just wish there was something I could do."

T.K. took hold of his hand.

"I'm sure he'll open up at some point. He always does. And, if you're right and there is something wrong with the baby, there isn't much we can do other than what we're already doing. Be there when they need our help and support them."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"I've been known to be a time or two." she said, wryly.

The corner of Leland's mouth turned up a bit as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to his side. He kissed her on the forehead. "You're pretty amazing. Gorgeous. Patient. Great cook. Caring wife. A writer and a relationship counsellor to boot. How'd I get so lucky?"

"Well, I try." she replied as she tilted her head back and kissed him goodnight.

The morning light came a bit too early for Natalie Monk but she forced herself to get out of bed when she saw that her husband's side of the bed was empty and the sheets were cool. Throwing on her robe, she drowsily walked out into the hallway, ducked her head in the children's room and found them both still sound asleep. Making her way further down the hall, she found Adrian sitting at a chair with his head on the desk and eyes closed - a lukewarm cup of coffee by his side and his computer turned on. The fact that he hated dealing with the internet and only did so when the situation required it told her that he had been on a very important quest.

Walking up behind him, she peered over his shoulder and saw he was reading medical journals.

Oh Adrian.

The way he was acting shouldn't have been a surprise to her and truthfully, it wasn't. He had always had a tendency to feel overly responsible when he felt like he had done something wrong, like the time that he believed his testimony had wrongfully sent a man to prison. Only this time, he was wrong about what he felt guilty over. How to get him to see that though would be easier said than done. It made her worry.

She reached out her hand to touch him, trying not to startle him. Nevertheless, he jerked up from his seat and spun around. His features softened the moment he saw it was her and he touched her hand. "Mmmm- Good morning, sweetheart." He said before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Good morning, handsome." She said, caressing the side of his neck. "You know, the bedroom is in the opposite direction."

He yawned and stretched out his back and neck. "Wish I could, but too much to do. I got up at four so I could at least be somewhat educated on the subject. It's all so new. Really groundbreaking stuff."

She dropped her hand and began to move towards the kitchen. "Conference starts at nine?"

"Yeah. But I figured I'd leave at seven."

"But it's only forty minutes away."

"I know, but yesterday there were some protestors that were blocking the lot. Need to mortgage a bit more time."

"Protestors? What were they protesting?" she said as she filled a kettle with water.

Monk shrugged. "I don't really know. Organic food or something."

"Organic food?" she asked. "Why would they be at the hospital protesting organic food?"

"Who knows? They were chanting something about no GMOs. Oh, and something like nothing about us, without us. I think they want to be in on the discussion."

Natalie immediately understood. "Well, if the scientists are doing things that affect them, I think that's fair. Don't you?"

"Yeah. I guess so. But that doesn't give them the right to be violent."

"Violent?!" She said, furrowing her brow. "Adrian, you never said anything about violence. Are you getting yourself into a dangerous situation?"

"No danger. A woman in a wheelchair threw water in my face." He replied.

She looked at him with a dubious expression. "Threw water in your face? What did you do to her?"

"Natalie!"

"What?!"

"I'm your husband! You're supposed to sympathize with me at all times." He said, seriously.

"I don't remember that being in our vows." She smirked. "Seriously, why did she throw water at you?"

Monk ran his hand through his hair as he got up and joined her in the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool at the island. "I honestly don't know. She asked if I was going to attend the conference and next thing I know, I'm borrowing a dry set of clothing from Dr. I. He gave me some surgical scrubs and a lab coat to wear."

Natalie tilted her head a little to the side. "Oh? Did he let you take it home?"

"No." he grumbled, as he reached for a bill laying on the counter. "What would I want with a hospital u– ?" He stopped. Raising one eyebrow, he looked at her. "This has to do with your thing with uniforms doesn't it?"

She smiled broadly and shrugged. "Well, you know you drive me crazy when you wear one."

He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the bill but she walked up to him, and wrapped her arms around him from behind and blew lightly in his ear. "You know you're sexy."

Monk rolled his shoulder. "Awe sweetheart, not now."

Natalie chuckled, biting the corner of her lip and moved to the front of him. Lookng at him through the tops of her eyes, she tickled his chin and licked her lips. "And with that sexy beard growing back in..."

Despite himself, He ducked his chin down and the dimples in his cheek made an appearance. "Mrs. Monk, I think your tea kettle is hot."

"You're the one that's hot." She teased. "Put on that nice shiny lab coat and pull out your stethoscope…" she said, leaning in close to him. Surprising her, he pulled back a bit and looked at her with a curious stare.

"I asked Dr. I about a stethoscope. He suggested that I get one for you and me. Now here you are suggesting it. What do you mean?"

Natalie pursed her lips and the corner of her mouth curled into a grin. She leaned forward and he thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she began to whisper something into his ear. At first, he listened, then his eyes grew wide and he felt a bead of sweat on his forehead.

He cleared his throat. "Oh. Uh, okay. I didn't, um…I never would have thought..."

"Got it?" she asked in a sultry voice.

"Mmhmm." He swallowed, looking for his coffee cup, or a bottle of water or maybe even the cup of ice water that had been thrown in his face the day before. Anything would do.

"Are you sure you want to go to the conference?" she purred.

Monk turned his eyes towards her, sticking one finger in his collar and twisting his neck then looked at her longingly and then pathetically "I – I really have to…go. Can we regroup tonight?"

Suddenly Natalie's demeanor shifted entirely. "You're coming back before tonight, aren't you?"

Monk looked puzzled. "Am I?"

"We are supposed to see Sharon Hope at the children's center at six-thirty, remember? I signed my parents up to watch Lee and Abby."

"I completely forgot about that!" he exclaimed.

"Adrian!" Natalie put her hand on her hip. "You never forget anything."

"Well, I did this." Monk frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to delay this a week or so? I mean, just until we have an idea what the doctors have to say about potential treatments."

"Honey, she already adjusted her schedule to fit us in. Besides, the parents' program is afterward and I'd like to see it. We said we'd go."

Monk lowered his head in hesitation.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

He didn't look up. "Well…it's just. It's…"

"It's what?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Well…Natalie…I've been thinking about it and I'm not so sure it's a good idea – seeing this Sharon woman."

"And just, why not?"

"Well, because…visiting an institution – it's kind of like admitting defeat before we've even started, don't you think?"

Natalie furrowed her brow in confusion. "Well…first of all, it's not an institution. It's a school for children who are disabled."

"Institution…school…whatever they want to call it. We're not sending him away. I'm firm on that."

Natalie blinked her eyes. "Who said anything about sending him away?"

Monk looked away, solemnly.

"Awe, Sweetie. Is that what…? Adrian. Look at me!" she said, touching his face. Monk raised his eyes toward her and she shook her head. "You have got more ideas swirling around in that head of yours!" She stroked his face. "Honey, it's not even a consideration that we would send him away. Is that what you think happens to special needs kids these days?"

"Sometimes." He said quietly.

"Maybe in worst case scenarios. But no. Centers like Sharon's exist to focus on specific issues that kids may have like reading and speech therapy. It's not an institution that parents leave their children at. It's like any other school – with just a little more attention. And, I'm not even saying he will have to go there. We won't know until he's born. But, if he does, she actually starts with newborns. And, if nothing else, she can help us with tips on what to do. I was reading up a little about it on the internet and I think you'll be impressed."

"The internet lies, you know." He grumbled.

"Which is why you stayed up all night looking up information on it?" she asked.

He was silent.

"You can't have it both ways, Mister. Shut off your excuse maker because we're going. You're pursuing your science thing and maybe there will be some help there; but, if not – and truthfully, there may not be – we're preparing for either scenario. You always like to be prepared for every scenario, don't you?"

Monk shook his head affirmatively.

"Then think of it like that." She said. "We're just getting prepared."

"Okay." he mumbled.

"You'll go?" she asked.

He turned his eyes toward her. "Yes. But only because you want to go."

She nodded. "Fine. I'll take it. What time is the conference over?"

"Five-thirty." He replied.

Natalie shook her head. "That won't work."

"What do you mean?"

"There's not enough time to leave the hospital in rush hour traffic, come pick me up and then get down to Cohasset. Can you leave early?"

"Can't. Was going to talk with Dr. Ianovsky and Dr. Neal for a few minutes after the meeting."

She raised a finger to her mouth and thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. I'll drop the kids off and meet you down there. You get there as soon as you can. Deal?"

Monk relented. He would meet her right after he left his consult with his two doctors.

Adrian arrived back at the hospital well in advance of the scheduled start time for the Thursday session. This time, however, the protestors were moved to the street corner and his main assailant was nowhere to be seen. Walking into the building a full forty minutes before the event, he looked for Drs. Ianovsky and Neal in the lobby but they weren't there. And so, he picked up his ticket and went directly to the auditorium where he thought he'd read a bit more of a notebook they had passed out the day before. He had only been sitting there for a short time when the man of African descent walked up and sat right next to him. Monk glanced slightly to his side and then again looked for his doctors. He was all alone.

"I'm s-sorry." He stammered. "But I'm – um, waiting for some friends. These are their seats"

"Drs. Ianovsky and Neal?" he asked.

Monk looked at him surprised. "How did you…?"

"I saw you with them yesterday." He replied. "Allow me to introduce myself. Dr. Joseph Keita from the University of Johannesburg in South Africa, class of 2001. I studied nanotechnology."

"Oh, you're a scientist." Monk replied.

"Medical Engineer. I came to America in 1996 as a part of an effort by a major medical supply company. What about you? Do you work with Drs. Ianovsky and Neal?"

Monk paused a moment. "In a… manner of speaking."

"I see. What type of medicine do you specialize in?" Keita asked.

Monk shifted in his seat, again, looking around "Well, I'm…"

"In my seat." Dr. Neal laughed as he arrived and squeezed into their aisle "Please, don't rise, Adrian. I was just joking about the seat."

"Oh, okay." Monk replied. "Is Dr. Ianovsky coming?"

"Yes, Zola is on his way." Neal replied, looking towards the man. "I'm sorry. We haven't met."

The man stuck out his hand in front of Monk and shook Neal's hand. "Dr. Joseph Keita from South Africa."

"Pleased to meet you." Neal replied. "So, what brings you all the way to Massachusetts General?"

Joseph chuckled. "It's only thirty minutes away from my home."

"Really? But I thought you said…"

"I moved to America twenty-four years ago. I live with my wife and our beautiful daughter just outside of Quincy. My wife is American."

"Got it. How do you know Adrian?" he asked, but before he could answer, Ianovsky arrived.

"Good morning, Mr. Monk!" he said, appearing at the end of the aisle.

"Good morning, Dr. I." Monk replied.

Ianovsky looked at the stranger. "Care to introduce me to your friend?"

The man immediately stood and moved out of his seat, nodding at the doctor. "Joseph Keita. I just saw you all sitting here yesterday and thought I would introduce myself. I'm sorry if I was in your seat."

Ianovsky looked amused and confused. "No. You were fine. Don't let me run you off."

"Actually, I was just leaving. I need to make a couple of calls before the conference starts. It was good to meet you. Now, if you would pardon me."

"Of course." Ianovsky said. Keita walked away.

Once he was gone, the three men looked between each other with bewilderment.

"Well that was different." Neal said, finally.

"Very." Monk relied. "Do either of you know him?"

"No." Neal replied.

"I may have seen him in passing yesterday, but no." Zola said. "You don't know him either?"

"No. I mean, I'm like you. I remember him sitting across the aisle yesterday, but I'd never spoken with him until today. Very strange." Monk replied.

The conference went similarly to the way it had gone the day before with speaker after speaker detailing the modern miracles of CRISPR. Most were still at the stages of experimenting in petri dishes or with small animals with an aim at human applications. A few had been approved for human trials and were there to report their results. Almost every word spoken about the technology was positive and optimistic and Monk listened with keen interest to every syllable. But as the morning wore on he kept hearkening back to the difficult struggles that modern inventors and medical pioneers always went through at the beginning of their discoveries and he felt a check in his spirit about the whole thing. Soon, he was thinking, What's the catch?

The group broke for lunch at noon and Monk went outside to check his messages. He had left the phone on mute and carried an extra pager just in case Natalie were to have some emergency. Looking at his phone, he noticed in his list of missed calls that Leland had tried to call three times. Checking his watch, he decided to go out to his car to get his packed lunch out of the cooler and return the call.

Leland was on the other line when Monk called, but seeing his number he excused himself and immediately picked up the call.

"Monk! Hey, buddy – can you hang on a second? I'm on another call."

Monk looked at his watch again. "I've got about fifteen minutes, but I can hold."

A minute later, Leland came back on the line. Monk had already unwrapped his perfectly prepared turkey club and was feasting on it as he sat with the sun roof open in Natalie's SUV in the warm April sun.

"I'm back." Stottlemeyer said, but then he turned to answer Heather who had just come in his office. "No. Hold all calls. He's on the line now. Take a message."

Monk heard her mumble something and then Leland returned for good. "Sorry about that. Things are rather busy here this morning."

"That's good. I guess." Monk replied, taking a sip of Summit Creek.

"Yeah, it makes the day go by quickly. Um…how are you doing? We were kind of worried about you yesterday."

Monk took another bite of his sandwich and a drink of water. "You said you'd talk to me today if we didn't meet up."

"I know. It's just when Natalie called…"

"That was a mistake. I had texted her to tell her where I was and something with the signal here at the hospital. It didn't go through. I guess I should have called."

"You're at the hospital?" Leland asked. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'm at a science conference. It runs through Friday." Monk replied, taking another bite.

Leland was surprised to hear that Monk was ditching work to attend an unannounced conference but given the overall character of his behavior over the past week decided not to fight it. "Science conference. That sounds interesting."

"It is." Monk replied, finishing his sandwich then opening up a bag of potato chips. "Is that all you called about? To check on me?"

Leland leaned back in his chair. "Actually, no. I thought you would be interested in our conversation with Mike Strazak yesterday."

"Oh, yeah. How'd that go?" he asked, taking a chip out of the bag with a paper towel 'glove' so as to avoid getting grease on his fingers.

"It was interesting, to say the least. Turns out you were right – as usual." He replied. Monk shrugged at the comment knowing that he usually was and continued to eat while Leland gave him the details.

"Strazak admitted to filing a false report when he said he saw Cass fall off the bridge. Turns out, someone stopped by the bar he works at and asked if he wanted to make some extra money. Cass said he was interested so the man told him that he needed him to dispose of a body."

"Really? He just came out and said that? Why would Strazak do it?" Monk replied.

"In his words, 'Ten grand is a lot of money. Can get a guy to do a lot of things he wouldn't normally do.'" Leland responded.

Monk considered this development. "So, someone killed Cass and that someone had a lot of money to help cover up the crime. I wonder why?"

"Dunno. But I thought you would find it interesting." Leland said.

"I do." Monk replied. "What about Barry Pointer? Have we heard any more from him."

Leland nodded. "Yes. He found Cass's name in the system as a patient about two years ago. HIPAA restrictions make it difficult for him to find out exactly why, but I've asked Rock to see if he can get a court order to get us the records. The idea that Cass might have been sick may help explain his early release."

"Maybe. It also might explain why he was at the CBD shop. People use that stuff for all sorts of pain management."

"Yes, they do." Leland replied. "I'll let you know if Rock turns over anything."

Monk chuckled. "Usually it's the other way around."

"What's that?"

"Rock. You said Rock turns over anything. Usually it is the rock that is being turned over." He responded.

"Oh, okay."

"You know. It's a pun."

"Yeah, I get it."

"Or is it an irony?" Monk wondered. "No, I think it's a pun since usually rocks are what gets turned over."

"That's fine."

"Maybe it's both." Monk thought. "I think it might be both."

After lunch, Monk returned to the auditorium and listened to a few more presentations, including one by his doctors who discussed their efforts at attempting to 'turn off' genetic markers which increase susceptibility to Myeloma. Dr. Ianovsky indicated that they had treated three patients with a combined bone marrow transplant and CRISPR therapy and to date they had shown no adverse effects. Their cancers had also not returned. A fourth patient died from unrelated causes and was not included in the study as the patient's response to the treatment could not be fully studied. Dr. Neal explained that the full details of their experimental treatment as well as the results to date would be published in the American Genomic Journal the following month. Monk absorbed most of what was being said, however at a certain point while they were speaking began to tune them out as he sensed he was being watched. Looking towards Dr. Keita he saw that he was right. The two men's eyes met, and just as quickly as they did, Keita turned his head and continued to watch the presentation. He left a short while after that and did not return to the conference.

The three o'clock session was touted to be the highlight of the day. It was a round-table discussion between some of the most respected figures in the field and the topic was CRISPR-CAS9 Germline Editing. Adrian knew that the germline was the part of a human being that could be inherited from one generation to the next, which immediately raised a disturbing thought in his mind as to whether or not the scientists were attempting to change humans as a species. Adrian's doctors expected it to be a rather lively and indeed it was. It was also the point where the tide began to turn.

The moderator of the discussion was a woman named Dr. Lana Silver who came before the panelists with a prewritten set of questions but who informed them that it was to be an open discussion and that they should be prepared to veer away from the pre-selected topics as needed. Everyone was in agreement and the first question came as a surprise to no one on stage, as it was something which had rocked the world of science to its core less than two years earlier. So fruitful was the discussion that it wound up being one of the only questions asked during the roundtable.

Silver stepped to the podium and read from an index card which was also flashed on the screen.

In 2018, Chinese professor, He Jiankui, shocked the world when he announced the birth of a set of gene-edited humans, Luna and Nana, who he had CRISPRed to be immune from HIV, a condition that afflicted their father. Jiankui was subsequently arrested and convicted by a Chinese court for forging ethical review documents and sentenced to three years in prison. The actions of Jiankui and his team were publicly condemned around the world, including by the Chinese, but they highlighted the advanced state of genetic research in non-Western nations and touched off a debate concerning regulation. What are your views concerning this incident as well as whether or not regulations should be increased on CRISPR-CAS9 research?

Calling upon the first man in the circle the scientists each took their turns giving their opinions on the matter and offering solutions as to what they believed should happen in terms of regulation. All easily condemned Jiankui, as they would have been expected to; however, several indicated an uneasiness with the stigma of doing germline editing at all – after all, while there were certain dangers inherent in the technology, disease was very real and if one killer could be wiped out through their efforts, it seemed to them that the risk was worth it.

One woman raised concerns about where the science would head once Pandora's box was opened.

"We would start with wiping out deadly or debilitating genetic disorders such as Progeria (the syndrome which prematurely ages children) or hereditary blindness and before we know it we'll find ourselves part of a commercial venture in which we are paid to create designer babies." She said.

"That, of course, has always been a concern." a scientist from Georgetown University stated "Not to mention that there would soon be an inequity in it all. Only the very rich would be able to afford such therapies and the poor, as usual, would suffer. We will soon find ourselves in a world where the ruling elite have genetically engineered their children into being the prettiest, smartest, healthiest people on the planet with, perhaps, even superhuman capabilities and the poor unfortunate genetically inferior serfs would just be there to serve them – through labor or as cannon fodder as the elites take over the world."

"Mark, if you will…" another man said. "I think that is where regulation could come in handy. When we get to the state of creating designer humans we will have to legislate that it be made available to all."

"The free market will always prevail." The Georgetown scientist replied. "It may become available to all but money talks and the uber rich will happily jump to the front of the line to ensure their progeny wind up on top."

While the group spoke, Monk noticed an elderly man on stage who had basically said nothing since the discussion began. He caught Adrian's attention because the look on his face was not one of keen interest but of boredom and at times, contempt. Silver apparently noticed him as well because after nearly forty-five minutes of non-stop discussion, she singled him out.

"Sir Nicholas Cecil, you have been rather quite today. As one of the U.K.'s premier scientists, surely you have something to say."

Cecil remained in a somewhat slouched position, resting his weight on one arm and motioning with that hand. "Not particularly. I just assumed that the omniscient league of gods and goddesses had it all under control."

An immediate murmur rumbled across the audience and more than one eyebrow was raised on the stage. Silver appeared amused, but she kept to her role as an impartial moderator.

"Would you care to explain what you mean by that?"

At this, the man sat up in his seat and shrugged. "What I mean is simply this. When I agreed to step out of retirement to join this roundtable, I expected that I would be around some of the most brilliant individuals on the planet today. I did not realize I would be among some of the most stupid as well."

"Sir Cecil!" a biologist named Douglas said, leaning towards him. "It is fine to disagree with us but resorting to insults is simply inappropriate."

"Dr. Douglas, I did not fly five thousand kilometers to pamper your feelings. I've come to express my utter dismay at where I see this science heading – and to urge restraint.

Gentlemen. Ladies. I have lived a long life – long enough to have witnessed some of the greatest achievements that mankind has ever known as well as some of the worst atrocities. In my opinion, CRISPR-CAS9 has the potential to be either – or both. Throughout this week we have heard all that this technology has accomplished in your hands and you have spelled out your most optimistic hopes for what it can accomplish in the future; and yet, I've heard very little about the dangers.

Dandridge, in your lecture, you told us of how with great precision you modified the gene which causes a form of deafness in human embryos but you seemed to downplay the so-called 'unwanted changes' that occurred elsewhere in the genome as unimportant."

"That's because the modifications occurred in an area that we know of as 'junk DNA'." Dandridge responded.

"Do we?" Cecil responded. "The hypothesis that 'junk DNA' even exists is a subject of great debate, but setting that aside, I guess my next question would be 'Are you a gambling man?'; because, it sure seems like you are."

Dandridge remained quiet.

"My colleagues, I do not mean to single Mr. Dandridge and his experiment out because each of you know, even though we've heard precious little about it during this event, that the CRISPR scissors are not as 'precise' as advertised and unintended consequences of our tinkering with the genome can and do happen. Edit a gene and accidently delete a chromosome. It would appear our gods and goddesses are flying blind.

Now I can already hear some of you saying that this is all a part of the scientific process and that we are simply learning what not to do. But setting aside the ethics of your use of human embryos to engage in this learning – which is only different from Mr. Jiankui in the fact that you did not have the audacity to implant them anywhere – at least that we know of… There is a mindset that I'm seeing here that is most disturbing. The idea that we can take a technology that is less than a decade old and think we can apply it to a genome that we are barely even scratching the surface at understanding seems to me to be a level of hubris beyond comprehension – and yet we can comprehend it because we've walked through these doors before.

Oh, our motivations are mostly good – to cure disease – to ease suffering – all of these things are noble. It's the mindset that 'the ends always justifies the means' which should terrify us all.

We hold in our hands a technology that could literally remake humanity as we know it – or break it apart and send it into extinction. That should make us tremble. And yet, what are we doing? We forge ahead with our experiments, using what little bit we know to try to affect our intended target – not knowing – or perhaps caring – what destruction we leave in our wake.

One only need look at history to see where this will take us – Saul Krugman's contributions towards vaccines for Hepatitis, Rubella and Measles – done at the expense of residents of the Willowbrook State School – an institution for the intellectually disabled. Loretta Bender's attempts to cure Schizophrenia through the use of shock therapy and autism using LSD – Kligman's invention of Retin-A accomplished through human experimentation on prison inmates at Holmesburg prison – including exposing them to the chemical warfare agent dioxin; and even our revered Dr. Sulk whose Polio vaccine obliterated the disease, did part of his research by first injecting children at the D.T. Watson Home for Handicapped Children and the Polk State School for the Feebleminded before he injected his own children. Incidentally, when we talk about regulation – poor regulatory standards could be considered partially to blame for live polio vaccine being included in some of the injections – an error which resulted in nearly 200 people becoming paralyzed and 10 dead.

And these are just some of the examples here in America. In Asia, in Africa, in Europe -none of us is immune from the pull of our unrestrained imaginations and delusions of ridding the world of pain. Are we Mengele? You may shudder at the comparison with the Nazi's medical madman – but does what we are pursuing now, in the name of science, not often cross into the realm of eugenics? No imperfection will be tolerated. We will build a master race. Sound familiar?

My friends, the science we have come here to discuss is a marvelous wonder to behold and it has great potential in terms of therapeutic applications. But it holds within it the potential to be quite dreadful as well. We simply do not know enough to do some of the things we are doing without risking seriously adverse consequences – a fact that I believe all of us is quite conscious of. Knowing this, some of you will be quite responsible in how you deal with the tools you have been handed; but, if history is any indicator, some will not. I would just warn you all and my colleagues within the scientific community that in your quest to play Prometheus that you do not destroy the world instead."

When Cecil had finished, Lana Silver called an end to the session and announced that the conference would take a twenty-minute break. Neal began to turn to Monk to ask what he thought, but Adrian excused himself, exiting the building and moving as far away from the auditorium as he could while still being on hospital grounds. There, he doubled over, gasping for air and trying to dampen the sickening feeling in his stomach. He felt that he had been deceived and even worse that the deception had come from himself. Certainly, the technology was incredible but he knew now that it was not the cure-all that he had hoped it would be. And, even if it could provide some therapeutic relief for their son, the irreversible risks that such therapy might entail completely removed the option from consideration. Failure. Disappointment. Without Hope. He has seen enough. He needed to leave.

Walking as quickly as he could to his car, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys and pulled out small round object with a blinking light on it instead. He knew right away that it was a tracking device.

"What the heck?" he said in confusion as he held the object in front of his face. Then, the world went black.