The Eyes of Heisenberg Read Online Free PDF Page B

locus,” he said. “Stand by with sulfhydryl and prepare an intermediary tape for protein synthesis.”
    â€œReady for masking,” Svengaard said. He nodded to the computer nurse who racked the intermediary tape into position with a smooth sureness.
    â€œKrebs cycle?” Potter asked.
    â€œOne hundred and ten coming up,” Svengaard said.

    Silence.
    â€œMark,” Svengaard said.
    Again, Potter bent to the scope. “Begin the tape,” he said. “Two minims of sulfhydryl.”
    Slowly, Potter increased amplification, chose a cell for the masking. The momentary clouding of intrusion cleared away and he searched the surrounding cells for clues that mitosis would take off on his directed tangent. It was slow … slow. He’d just begun and his hands already felt sweaty in their gloves.
    â€œStand by with adenosine triphosphate,” he said.
    Svengaard presented the feeder tube in the micromanipulators, nodded to the vat nurse. ATP already. This was going to be a tough one.
    â€œBegin one minim ATP,” Potter said.
    Svengaard depressed the feeder key. The whirring of the computer tapes sounded overly loud.
    Potter lifted his head momentarily, shook it. “Wrong cell,” he said. “We’ll try another one. Same procedure.” Again, he leaned into the scope and the rests, moved the micromanipulators, pushing amplification up a notch at a time. Slowly, he traced his way down into the cellular mass. Gently … gently … The scope itself could cause irreversible damage in here.
    Ahhh , he thought, recognizing an active cell deep in the morula. Vat-stasis had produced only a relative slowing in here. The cell was the scene of intense chemical activity. He recognized doubled base pairs strung on a convoluted helix of sugar phosphate as they passed his field of vision.
    His beginning anxiety had passed and he felt the old sureness with the often repeated sensation that the morula was an ocean in which he swam, that the cellular interior was his natural habitat.
    â€œTwo minims of sulfhydryl,” Potter said.
    â€œSulfhydryl, two minims,” Svengaard said. “Standing by with ATP.”
    â€œATP,” Potter said, then, “I’m going to inhibit the exchange reaction in the mitochondrial systems. Start oligomycin and azide.”

    Svengaard proved his worth then by complying without hesitation. The only sign that he recognized the dangers in this procedure was a question, “Shall I have an uncoupling agent ready?”
    â€œStand by with arsenate in number one,” Potter said.
    â€œKrebs cycle going down,” the computer nurse said. “Eighty-nine point four.”
    â€œIntrusion effect,” Potter said. “Give me point six minim of azide.”
    Svengaard depressed the key.
    â€œPoint four minim oligomycin,” Potter said.
    â€œOligomycin, point four,” Svengaard said.
    Potter felt that he lived now only through his eyes on the microscope and his hands on the micromanipulators. His existence had moved into the morula, fused with it.
    His eyes told him that peripheral mitosis had stopped … as it should under these ministrations. “I think we have it,” he said. He planted a marker on the scope position, shifted focus and went down into the DNA spirals, seeking the hydroxyl deformity, the flaw that would produce a faulty heart valve. Now he was the artist, the master cutter—the pilot cell determined. Now he moved to reshape the delicate chemical factory of the inner structure.
    â€œPrepare for the cut,” he said.
    Svengaard armed the meson generator. “Armed,” he said.
    â€œKrebs cycle seventy-one,” the computer nurse said.
    â€œFirst cut,” Potter said. He let off the single, aimed burst, watched the tumbling chaos that followed. The hydroxyl appendage vanished. Nucleotides reformed.
    â€œHemoprotein P-450,” Potter said. “Stand by to reduce it with