The Hidden Genes of Professor K Read online

  THE HIDDEN GENES OF PROFESSOR K

  A gripping medical mystery thriller

  Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 3

  Gabriel Farago

  Amazon Kindle Edition

  This book is brought to you by Bear & King Publishing.

  Publishing & Marketing Consultant: Lama Jabr

  Website: http://xanapublishingandmarketing.com

  Sydney, Australia

  First published 2016 © Gabriel Farago

  The right of Gabriel Farago to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review) no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Signup for the author’s New Releases mailing list and get a free copy of ‘The Forgotten Painting’ Novella and find out where it all began ... Click Here to Download.

  ‘We look for medicine to be an orderly field of knowledge and procedure. But it is not. It is an imperfect science, an enterprise of constantly changing knowledge, uncertain information, fallible individuals, and at the same time lives on the line. There is science in what we do, yes, but also habit, intuition, and sometimes plain old guessing. The gap between what we know and what we aim for persists. And this gap complicates everything we do.’

  Atul Gawande, Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes and an Imperfect Science New York: Metropolitan Books of Henry Holt and Company, 2002.

  This book was inspired by, and is dedicated to, the many talented scientists who work at the Garvan Institute of Medical Research, in Sydney. In awe of nature, but not seduced by its beauty, or cowed by its terror, they are always on the lookout for inspired ideas to improve the journey of man.

  To learn more about Garvan, what it stands for and what it does, please visit;

  www.garvan.org.au

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Foreword

  Author’s Note

  Part I Memento Mori

  Part II De Medicina

  Part III The Greatest Disease in the West

  Part IV Detego

  Part V ‘Stars, Hide your Fires’

  Part VI Kalm 30 and Demexilyn

  A Future to Look Forward To...

  Secrets of Professor K: Garvan Mystery Challenge

  More Books by the Author

  The Empress Holds the Key

  The Disappearance of Anna Popov

  Professor K: The Final Quest (Coming soon)

  About the Author

  Connect with the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Writing The Hidden Genes of Professor K was an ambitious project. For a layman, exploring subjects touching on cutting-edge medical research and complex science is never easy. The learning curve was both challenging and steep, and would not have been possible without the guiding hand of leading experts. A special thank you must therefore go to Professor Susan Clark, Head of the Genomics and Epigenetics Division at the Garvan Institute of Medical Research in Sydney, and Dr Peter Molloy, Senior Principal Research Scientist in CSIRO’s Food and Nutrition Flagship, Sydney, for inducting me into the fascinating world of genomics and epigenetics. But this wasn’t all. They patiently reviewed the relevant text to make sure I got the science right, didn’t become lost in speculation, and kept at least one eye on what is realistic and achievable, based on what we know today.

  Preparing a book for publication requires many skills; it is a team effort. I’ve been very fortunate to have a group of talented and dedicated specialists help me deal with the many challenges of a rapidly changing literary landscape. Without their professional support and advice, this book would not have seen the light of day. There are too many to mention, but a few definitely stand out.

  First, Sally Asnicar, my editor. Her exceptional attention to detail and insights into the characters and the multi-layered storyline, have been invaluable in bringing this project to fruition.

  Who says we don’t judge a book by its cover? In a way we all do, especially when surfing the Net for inspiration of what to read. The talented Vivien Valk and Christopher Hammang have designed an imaginative cover that is true to the storyline, and captures the spirit of the book. Christopher is a scientific animation artist, creating visualisation of the microscopic inner space of life. He works as part of a multi-disciplinary research group, the Biological Data Visualisation team, led by Dr Sean O’Donoghue at CSIRO and the Garvan Institute.

  And finally, it would be remiss of me not to mention my wife, Joan, literary critic, researcher, patient sounding board and cheerful travel companion—we visit all of the places mentioned in my books.

  Thank you all for believing in me, and what I’m trying to achieve with my writing.

  Gabriel Farago

  Leura, Blue Mountains, Australia

  Foreword

  We all stare into the darkness. There are things, many things, that we do not know about the world, or about ourselves. What makes us different from other animals, and sets us apart from each other, is the genetic material we inherit from our ancestors. Amazingly, however, the number and repertoire of conventional protein coding genes is similar across the animal kingdom. The rest of our genome was once dismissed as junk – a graveyard of evolutionary debris for which scientists could not attribute any purpose. However, it now appears that this DNA is in fact alive, transmitting. It is the cryptic code that orchestrates human development, empowers our thoughts, and perhaps even holds memories of experiences from generations past.

  The Hidden Genes of Professor K combines imagination, history, and knowledge of the leading edge of medical science to weave an epic tale of greed and intrigue. It takes the reader into the recesses of the human psyche, the hidden corners of history, and the dark matter of the human genome. The secrets are all there.

  Professor John Mattick AO FAA,

  Director of the Garvan Institute of Medical Research,

  Sydney Australia.

  (http://www.garvan.org.au)

  The Hidden Genes of Professor K is a thrilling medical mystery that incorporates new advances in genetic and epigenetic research to decipher the secrets of the past extracted from human DNA. Readers who were spellbound by Gabriel Farago’s previous novels The Empress Holds the Key and The Disappearance of Anna Popov will be equally enthralled and captivated as they journey through the secrets of the past, and share the dreams of a visionary scientist with the power to change the future of medicine.

  Professor Susan Clark FAA,

  Head of the Genomics and Epigenetic Division,

  The Garvan Institute of Medical Research,

  Sydney, Australia.

  Dr Peter Molloy,

  Senior Principal Research Scientist,

  CSIRO Food and Nutrition,

  Sydney Australia.

  Author’s Note

  Edwin Smith, a colourful character, is remembered for something he did one hot afternoon in a bazaar in Luxor, Egypt in 1862. He bought a papyrus that turned out to be one of the oldest medical texts in the world.

  I first came across the Edwin Smith Papyrus some twenty years ago. I was
studying Egyptology at the time, learning to read the hieroglyphs at night, because during the day I was a practising barrister and spent most of my days in court. Archaeology was my passion and has remained so to this very day.

  Our professor used this unique text as an illustration of the extraordinary achievements of the Ancient Egyptians. The 4.6 metre long papyrus is written right to left in hieratic, a cursive form of hieroglyphs. Experts believe it was composed in about 1500 BC.

  However, what is particularly fascinating about the papyrus is that it is now believed to be a copy of a much older text dating back to the Old Kingdom. And it doesn’t stop there. Some scholars maintain that the true author of the text was none other than Imhotep, a remarkable renaissance man of the Old Kingdom who lived in around 2600 BC, and rose to high office under the pharaoh Djoser. Imhotep was a gifted architect, engineer, high priest and physician who, two thousand years after his death, was deified and became the god of medicine and healing. Centuries later, the ancient Greeks associated him with Asklepios, the god of medicine.

  What makes this text so unique is the fact it describes forty-eight case histories based on rational anatomical, physiological and pathological observations, without looking at them through the eyes of magic, which was the accepted way to deal with disease, injury and trauma at the time.

  Fascinated by the text, I immersed myself in the papyrus, which was translated by Breasted, an eminent Egyptologist, in 1930. That was how I came across case 46.

  Case 46 deals with ‘bulging tumours of the breast … large, spreading and hard …’ A more accurate description of breast cancer is difficult to imagine. For the first time in human history, the Emperor of Darkness – cancer – made its appearance in literature.

  Every case study in the papyrus is followed by a discussion of its treatment except in case 46 for which, according to Imhotep, there was none.

  Cancer is an ancient disease. Progress in medical research, especially in recent years, has been breathtaking. We have come a long way, yet have we come any closer to conquering this powerful, malevolent disease, or do we have to agree with Imhotep’s prognosis 4500 years ago – that in many cases, there is no cure?

  This question has been asked countless times through the ages and has plagued the medical profession for centuries. The search for an answer became the inspiration for this book.

  Gabriel Farago

  Leura, Blue Mountains, Australia

  Part I

  Memento Mori

  Gordon Institute, Sydney:

  September 2011

  Professor Kasper Kozakievicz – Professor K to colleagues because his name was almost impossible to pronounce – looked at the computer printout on his desk and smiled; the results were exactly as he had expected. A tremendous feeling of elation quickened his heartbeat, making his emaciated body tremble with excitement. Reaching for his chair to steady himself, he suddenly felt dizzy and weak. Stars began to dance in front of his eyes just before a bundle of sharp darts embedded in his brain. Moments later, his knees gave way and he collapsed to the floor.

  Professor K had known for months he was dying. The cancer – a particularly aggressive one – had spread rapidly with relentless predictability. To an eminent research scientist, the prognosis was obvious: death was only a matter of time. Rather than subjecting himself to unpleasant and debilitating treatment to buy a few more feeble days, he had thrown himself deeper into his research, much to the dismay of his exasperated family, friends and colleagues. Only those who knew him well understood what he was doing, and why.

  Ironically, the day he diagnosed his own cancer was the very day an unexpected breakthrough occurred in his research. From that day on, he knew he was getting close, very close. All he needed was a little more time – but time was running out.

  Professor K opened his eyes. Darkness. He tried to move his fingers, but they wouldn’t obey. Then slowly, a wave of excruciating pain reached his tortured brain as he regained consciousness and the darkness receded. Professor K knew exactly what was happening: death was standing at the door! Mustering the last of his remaining strength, he got unsteadily to his feet and fell into his chair. My notes, he thought, where are my notes? Trying not to panic, he searched his cluttered desktop for his research notes with shaking hands. Finding the little notebook under a pile of papers, he relaxed as a hint of a smile creased his wan face. Then, taking a deep breath, he reached for his pen and began to write like a man possessed.

  On the other side of the globe, Dr Alexandra Delacroix was fast asleep in her Marseilles apartment, located next to the Université De La Méditerranée School of Medicine where she worked, when her mobile rang. She wasn’t used to getting phone calls in the middle of the night, and sensed it must be something important. Instantly awake, she reached for the phone on her bedside table, peered at the incoming number and pressed answer. ‘Do you know what time it is, Kasper?’ she said sleepily.

  ‘I do, Lexi,’ replied the professor calmly. ‘Please listen carefully, there isn’t much time. I’m talking to you as a man who is about to die, but more importantly, I’m talking to you as a fellow scientist.’

  Silence. Dr Delacroix had known about her mentor’s illness for some time, but was unaware how far it had progressed. ‘How bad is it?’ she asked.

  ‘I won’t see tomorrow …’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I would like you to be my successor, so to speak.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think I’ve found a breakthrough in cancer diagnosis and treatment.’

  Again, silence. Then, ‘Across the board?’

  ‘Quite possibly. It’s groundbreaking.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘My God, Kasper, do you realise what you are saying?’

  ‘I do. There’s still a long way to go with all the trials and such, but the proof is right here in front of me. But only you will understand my crazy notes and abbreviations, and how it all works.’

  ‘What about Cavendish; isn’t he next in line?’

  ‘Cavendish is a plodder. Too much ambition, not enough talent. He’s not in your league. This is far too important. I want you—’

  ‘Because we’ve worked together before, you mean?’ interrupted Dr Delacroix.

  ‘Yes, and because of who you are,’ said the professor, sounding weak.

  ‘Speak up, Kasper, I can barely hear you,’ said Dr Delacroix, raising her voice. For a while, all she could hear was heavy breathing on the other end of the line.

  ‘I can’t see any more,’ said the professor, gasping for breath.

  ‘Stay with me, Kasper!’ shrieked Dr Delacroix. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘It’s all in my notes and the specimens. I’ve put everything into the safe here in the lab. This is the combination. Write it down: 12 … 48 … 62. Got that?’

  ‘12, 48, 62,’ repeated Dr Delacroix.

  ‘Good,’ sighed the professor, suddenly calmer. ‘Will you be my intellectual heir, so to speak?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Carry the torch; promise?’ whispered the professor.

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘As my friend?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you must hurry! A position is waiting for you here at the Gordon. It’s all arranged.’

  ‘And Cavendish?’ Dr Delacroix asked again.

  ‘Don’t worry about him!’

  Her mind racing, Dr Delacroix considered the implications. She would have to give up her position at the Institute for Structural Biology and Microbiology at the University and move to Sydney. The professor’s offer was the opportunity of a lifetime. Cavendish could be a problem, but there was really nothing to consider. ‘Can’t you get some help?’ she asked, concerned about her dying friend.

  ‘It’s Sunday morning; there’s no one here. And besides,’ whispered the professor, ‘it’s too late for that now. At least it hasn’t been in vain …’

 
‘What did you say?’ shouted Dr Delacroix, her eyes misting over. There was no reply; all she could hear was silence.

  Olympic Stadium, Moscow:

  September 2011

  The gigantic, semi-circular stage erected inside the Olympic Stadium had been transformed into a haunted cemetery, complete with cobwebbed tombstones flanked by crying angels, sad-looking willow trees, live crows in cages and a large, pale moon, suspended from a mobile crane. Set against a backdrop depicting frightening ghouls and hooded monks, clever props and light effects completed the illusion. In front of the stage, a hundred thousand eager fans waited excitedly to hear the band. They began to chant ‘Isis, Isis, Isis’ as their idols walked on stage. Whipping up the crowd, the drummer began the introduction to their signature number – ‘It’s Time; come with us’ – before the throbbing bass joined in and the guitars screamed into life. The Russian leg of Isis and The Time Machine’s Echoes from the Grave World Tour had begun.

  Transformed into an Egyptian goddess in her white silk robe and golden crown, Isis lay motionless in a glass coffin six feet below the stage. The hydraulics engineer adjusted the switches and waited for the signal from the stage manager. As the band was about to finish ‘It’s Time’, the stage manager gave the nod. Slowly, the coffin ascended.

  On the stage above, a large tombstone made of plywood and papier-mâché also began to rise, while green, smoke-like fog oozed out of the other tombs and covered the stage. As the glass coffin emerged from the open grave, the crowd became hysterical. The security guards in front of the stage barely managed to hold back the howling fans as Isis came into view. The guitars fell silent, and only the drummer continued with a mesmerising, blood-boiling solo.