ONE-WAY STREET
Feeling distinctly nervous, apprehensive, Grant followed Dr. Cardenas to the cafeteria. The place was crowded with diners, long lines at all the counters.
Cardenas loaded her tray with a bowl of soup, a plate of soyburger, a salad, and a steaming mug of tea. Grant took fish filets, creamed corn, and a cola. They both avoided the dessert counter.
She found a table for two in a corner of the bustling, clattering cafeteria.
“Hard to carry on a quiet conversation,” Grant said as they sat down, raising his voice over the noise of the crowd.
“Good,” said Cardenas. “Less chance of being overheard.”
Grant blinked at her. She’s acting as if we’re hatching some kind of a conspiracy, he thought.
Leaning slightly across the table, Grant asked, “So what about my nanos?”
Cardenas spooned up some soup and drank it before raising her cornflower blue eyes to meet Grant’s.
“Fixing your liver was one thing, Grant. Easy. A one-shot proposition.”
“And?” he prompted.
“Putting nanomachines into your body that will repair cellular damage from radiation or other causes is an entirely different thing.”
He waited for the other shoe to drop.
Her face utterly serious, Cardenas continued, “That kind of nanotherapy is continuous, ongoing. Once you put that type of nano into your body, you’ve started down a one-way street.”
“I don’t understand.”
Patiently, Cardenas explained, “Look, you’ll be ingesting nanomachines that will fill your body. They’ll invade your cells and repair any damage they find. You’ll be carrying billions of little repair kits inside you.”
“So that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes, certainly. But they’re so good at what they do that your body’s natural repair systems will begin to shut down. As far as your natural immune system is concerned, you’ll be in such good health that they can slack off.”
“Great,” said Grant.
Cardenas shook her head. “Your body’s production of leukocytes—white blood cells—T-cells, all your body’s defenses against infection and cellular damage will decline. Steeply.”
“But if I’ve got the nanos in me I won’t need them, will I?”
“That’s right,” she said, so faintly Grant could barely hear her. “You won’t.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You’ll be chained to those nanomachines, Grant. Like I said, you’ll be heading along a one-way street. Once you start taking nanotherapy you’ll have to stay with it for life.”
Grant thought it over for all of five seconds. “Okay by me,” he said.
Cardenas smiled sadly. “Easy enough for you to say, Grant. But the nanomachines have finite lifetimes. They break down, eventually. You’ll need to replenish them from time to time.”
“I see.”
“You’ll be hooked on them, just as you might become hooked on narcotics or alcohol.”
Grant saw that she was trying to give him the whole picture before he made a decision that he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.
“You’re living with them, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“And you seem to be doing okay. Fine, in fact.”
“But I can never go back to Earth. Never go home. I’m an exile, Grant.”
“I’m not going back to Earth, either,” he said. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”
She looked surprised. “I remember you told me that before. But are you certain? Absolutely certain? It’s a decision that you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life.”
“Which could be centuries long, from what I’ve heard.”
Cardenas almost smiled. “Yes, you could live for a long time, with nanos protecting you.”
Grant reached out and clutched her hand. “I’ll take the chance.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. And thanks for the warning. I appreciate how much you care.”
Cardenas seemed to brighten, as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders.
“All right, Grant,” she said. “Come down to my lab tomorrow evening and I’ll have the nanos waiting for you.”