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After years of dealing with bureaucrats, I’ve
learned how to baffle them. My records will be altered, and at a fair price.
And because they can’t work out precisely why I’m doing it, they’re at a loss
to take further advantage of the situation—beyond the bribes they’ve
extracted. They obviously think I’m just another rich eccentric. Perhaps
they’re right. Well, at least all this
will spare the authorities the expense of having to dig me up after I’m gone.
(from Chapter 15)
Blood tissue analysis successful. Inherited ABO antigens showing up as expected. Next step: some saliva samples that stand up to the most rigorous scrutiny. Read a fascinating piece in Nature today about the use of DNA profiling in UK courts. Seems it’s all the rage in paternity and criminal cases. Ah, but if they only knew what I’m certain I shall soon prove, courts worldwide will have to throw that evidentiary procedure out with yesterday’s newspaper. (from Chapter 15)
Blast heredity! Having ruled out adoption, it falls to me to divine the solution. Current published research is only mildly promising; I’ll not be getting most of what I need from outside sources. Oh, there is that famous Italian case with the alleged half-sister of one of my peers, but I plan to go much farther than merely having it all proved in court. Our records will even bear up under the most intense scrutiny of the genealogical societies. (from Chapter 15)
Of all the individuals I’ve considered, this one seems the most promising. Bright, affable, curious, self-confident, and with sufficient amounts of self-control and humility. Apparently not afraid of change, either. Besides, something beyond those obvious traits—intuition, perhaps?—tells me I’ve found who I’m looking for. Yes, I do believe I’ve decided. Now to the indelicate task of obtaining my heir’s medical records and samples, followed by the delicate task of announcing myself. (from Chapter 15)
A partial but puzzling success today after the electrophoresis—there was a match with the ‘new me’ all right, but it ‘proved’ I am the subject’s father or brother, not the uncle. Perhaps removing a few determiners might work a treat—lightening the recipe, so to speak. Hmmm, I wonder if some deceased family member can call out a solution from the grave. No matter what happens, their ancestor will inherit millions, so perhaps they have a vested interest. (from Chapter 18)
Will have to postpone further tests with the restriction enzymes until after the golf tournament. Kohlberg has issued his usual double-or-nothing challenge. Not as foolish a bet as it once was, considering my condition. Must play a practice round early on tomorrow. Must also consider deeply about where and when to take that final pill. Imagine—a sip, a swallow, and voila! a counterfeit person. (from Chapter 18)
After all these decades of despairing that the Hanover line would end with me because of this abominable affliction, salvation. At a high price, yes, but one I’m prepared to pay. Still, swapping my life for the chance to edit the genetic code means I’ll not see the results. Pity, that. (from Chapter 18)
The ethical implications of this genetic switch do give one pause. After all, if the criminal and terrorist elements recognize the chameleonlike potential of this technology, the world will be in a sorry state soon enough. Must think long and hard about this. After all’s said and done, it may be better to destroy my lab notes and apparatus. Can any possible good for humankind come of this? Perhaps not, but the world must know it can be done. (from Chapter 18)
Farnsworth seems even more cheerful and attentive than usual; I suspect he’s counting on being named in my will. I foresee a grievous split unless I make provisions to keep the household together. But unless I bequeath to a total stranger, one selected nearly at random and documented as such, the world will never grasp the point of my life’s work. (from Chapter 19)
Off to Switzerland on Friday. Special gear already packed and ready, and unobtrusive enough to escape notice. Damned hard to smile at everyone, knowing I’ll likely not be back. If my hour does come, however, I’m ready with the pill just beforehand—but will it work? Will I, at the very moment of my passing, become an uncle to an unknown person, a spontaneous new branch in a stranger’s family tree? (from Chapter 19)
