The New Magic - The Revelation of Jonah McAllister - Landon Wark (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

lost in the work instead. There were times when the former reverend would take long walks out in the woods, trying to come to terms with exactly what they were trying to do.

At least, that's what Jonah thought of his constitutionals.

A shuffling in the hallway announced the return of Sandy Jenkins from wherever she had escaped to, still tying her dressing gown tightly around her ample waist, Jonah McAllister was standing in the middle of her room like a gaunt, pasty ghost. Startled, she felt the lightheadedness return and she had to put a hand on the doorframe to keep herself steady.

"The others are in the car outside," he said, placing his hand on a box that was seated on her bed.

"Jesus Christ," she breathed.

"Oh, uh, are you okay?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Jonah? I'm getting out of here in a couple of days."

"I think it's better if you stay here for a while longer. We can afford it."

"What else are they going to do for me, other than print off diet sheets and shove them at me? And either way I'm gonna get sidelined for a while—"

"I found what I was looking for, Sandy," he interrupted. "I brushed the dust off of the Rosetta Stone. I started assigning spots on the periodic table. Instead of fumbling around in the dark we can make systematic progress."

"That's great."

Jonah uncovered the cube that sat upon the bed. Inside the wire meshing was a lining of woodshavings, pushed into piles in places, a single layer in others. As Sany looked into its depths two of the piles moved and small patches of black fur appeared. Two mice burrowed around in the shavings. For what purpose, only their tiny mouse brains could say for certain. At first Sandy could see no difference between them, but as their bodies emerged into the dim light of the room the disparity in their body types became obvious. The closer mouse was large, with pudges of fat protruding from its sides, bulging out as it plodded along. The other slipped stealthily through the shavings, it's sleek body clawing rambunctiously on the wires of the cage.

"Are you sure you should have live mice in a hospital?" she asked.

"They started life virtually identical," Jonah said with the air of a science fair competitor seeking a judges approval. "The others and I, we converted some of the mitochondria in the white adipose—"

"So you're bringing in your science projects into the hospital to show me?"

"I think," he said, in a way that an observer would think was almost to himself, "that we can do something similar with a human subject."

"I-what are you saying?"

He tapped his thumb against the cage and the mice squeaked. "You know what I’m saying, Sandy. Don't make me say it out loud."

"You want to mess with my white aphid—"

"Adipose—Essentially it would be over hauling your metabolism. Weight loss in the mouse occurred over a couple of days."

"Okay, no. That's gonna be a hard pass from me. I'll just stick with the various badly photocopied diets that every person who comes in here wants to bring me. You know, the ones that never work."

Jonah kicked the bed leg. He wasn't a great judge of sarcasm in the first place, but he sensed none in her sentence. "Fair enough. But..."

"I appreciate the effort, but there's nothing you're going to say to me that's gonna make me want to be your crazy ass magical test subject."

"I just don't want you to be offended," he said. "This isn't about... I mean, what you said about us still losing even when we have this power. It's not just about medical stuff. I promised you that you could be the woman on the novel cover and—"

"That was never about the way I look, Jonah."

"I know. It's more about challenging fate. It's about not losing just because of the way you were born. I think... I think if anything came out of this whole thing, that would be what I'd want. That you can do, or be what you want. That anything is possible."

Sandy bit her tongue. "Fuck."

"You helped me out when I needed it. I just wanted to prove it to you first."

She bit down harder on her tongue, stopping only when it became painful.

"You're a real asshole sometimes. You know that?"

"I'm sorry. There's nothing cynical about it."

"Christ."

Sandy shuffled over to the chair at the side of the room, just across from the bed. What he was saying was a far cry from watching quarters divide or making little fires here and there. He wouldn't sugar coat the whole thing, would he? All that stuff about the Rosetta Stone? Was it a lie? An embellishment? Because, for a moment she felt the warm comfort of rationalization. She could trust him. But, the process? Could she trust the process? Crazy fucking magic gene therapy? She had to take a moment to remind herself that Carmen was shooting the stuff directly into her veins. But it was different when you could see behind the curtain, when you knew how the sausage was being made.

That was how they got you, according to Carmen. They promised you the world and then left you with the bill.

Sandy dared to try making eye contact with Jonah McAllister, making his hang dog expression.

Is this someone you can hang the world on? she asked herself.

"Christ," she exhaled. "You can't expect me to do this—" The powerful bite of temptation forced her to hedge. "Without seeing it work on the mice."

"Oh, yeah." His face seemed to light up. "There's another pair down in the car with the others."

Sandy shook her head as he stumbled around her legs on his way out of the room.

Don't do this, Sandy. You can live a long