Desh’s eyes narrowed in thought. Idiot savants did provide a unique perspective on the potential of the human brain.
“They can perform amazing feats in a specific area, but their emotional intelligence is very low, and their understanding and judgment is poor. Why? Because they’re wired differently than you and I,” she explained. “My goal was to understand the genetic basis for these differences in their neuronal patterns. To map the differences between autistic savants and normals. To ultimately find a way to cause a temporary rewiring in a normal brain; to achieve autistic-savant-like capabilities, but differently, more comprehensively, and without the notable deficiencies. Not just to optimize the brain for math and memory tricks, but for intelligence and creativity. Tap into the brain’s almost limitless raw power.”
“Using gene therapy?”
“Correct,” said Kira. “The structure of our brain is always changing. Every thought, memory, sensory input, and experience actually remodels the brain—very, very slightly. I learned that the differences between the brains of autistic savants and normals were surprisingly subtle. And almost like crystal formation, once you nucleate a tiny portion of the brain into a more efficient, optimized structure, you get a chain-reaction that re-orders the rest. There are a number of fetal genes instrumental in setting up neuronal patterns during initial brain development that are turned off after birth. Using gene therapy, I could reactivate whichever of these genes I wanted in a given sequence and at a given expression level.”
Kira paused for a few seconds to allow Desh to absorb what she was saying and see if he had any questions.
“Go on,” he said.
“I started by experimenting on rodents. I used NeuroCure’s facility late at night so I could keep the research secret.”
“Why secret? The approach makes intuitive sense—even to a dumb grunt like me.”
“I’ve studied you far too carefully to buy the dumb grunt routine, David.”
“I ask again,” persisted Desh, “why not pursue this avenue openly?”
“I only wish I could have,” said Kira. She held up a finger. “First off, fellow scientists would think it was a wild-goose-chase that couldn’t possibly succeed.” She held up another finger. “Secondly, the FDA lets you risk putting foreign biologics or chemicals in a person’s body, but only to help relieve them of a disease or adverse medical condition. Trying to improve someone who has nothing wrong with them is, ah . . . frowned upon.”
“Too much like playing God?” guessed Desh.
“That, and it’s also considered an unnecessary risk. The FDA would never sanction something like this. And without the agency’s approval, it’s illegal to test this approach on humans.”
“Even on yourself?”
She nodded. “Even on myself. I was risking my entire career and reputation. If someone found out, believe me, I wouldn’t be applauded. Especially in this case. Think about it, trying to alter the brain’s architecture, the very seat of the human soul. Playing God, as you said. There’s an ethical and moral dimension here that is quite complicated.”
“But you didn’t let that stop you,” said Desh accusingly.
She shook her head firmly but there was a note of regret in her expression. “No,” she replied with a sigh. “I was convinced I could succeed. I was only risking myself. And the potential rewards were staggering.”
“The ends justify the means?”
“What would you do?” she demanded defensively. “Assume for a moment you had reason to believe you could solve key problems facing humanity; invent technologies that could revolutionize society. But you had to skirt some of society’s rules. Do you do it?”
Desh refused to be drawn in. “What I would do isn’t important,” he replied. “It’s what you did that’s important.”
Kira was unable to fully hide her disappointment, but she picked up her narrative where she had left off. “NeuroCure’s lab was ideal for my needs. We were working on Alzheimer’s, so it was already set up for the study of intelligence and memory. I used everything I had learned about the brain and autistic savants and developed cocktails of viral vectors with novel gene constructs inserted. Mixtures I thought would achieve my goals. I tested them on lab rats.”
“I’d like to think that rat brains and human brains aren’t very similar,” said Desh.
“It would be fair to say there are . . . slight differences,” she said, amused. “But if you’re questioning if there are enough similarities to make the results meaningful, the answer is that there are.”
“So, were you able to create your Algernon?”
“Yes. Algernon was a mouse and I worked mostly on rats,” she pointed out, “but yes. Rat number ninety-four showed dramatic improvements in intelligence. I spent another year perfecting the cocktail.”
“And then you tried it on yourself.”
She nodded.