Torch in the Dark

Dr. Posner Hilroy tapped send and made history. His brown skin looked like cedar. His eyes looked like glints of gun metal. He lifted himself up from his chair and walked out of the laboratory in his home in Newark, Delaware.

Awards on the wall next to death threats greeted him as he passed. A note from a Pentecostal church saying that he would burn in hell always made him chuckle. The Marie Maynard Daly Prize sparkled in his case next to the shotgun that almost blew off his head. He summoned some coffee through the home smart system and waited for the news channels and the websites to be set afire.

Still in his pajamas, he looked about his home and remembered that he would have to downsize. Sure he had a cool twenty billion dollars in the bank, but that would soon be gone in legal fees, paying out potential victims, and buying out companies that would use the material he had invented for nefarious means. A grin curled around his mouth as he sipped the coffee. Then, alerts sprung up on his phone, television, tablet, and home smart system like a puma attacking a deer.

“Today, we’ve just been informed that world-renowned and sometimes hated bioengineer Posner Hilroy is giving away all of his patents for free to ‘benefit mankind’ and himself he has noted. The billionaire just moments ago released every bit of research that his company Hilroy Scientific has produced over thirty years of research. At the age of fifty-four, Hilroy says that he is signaling a message to be as selfish as possible and give up things that no longer are a value to you but can definitely help someone else. We’re going to be live outside of the residence of Dr. Hilroy in a few moments. Standby.”

The knock came and Dr. Hilroy, now dressed in a green and gold tracksuit and sneakers addressed the person at the door. It was his wife Malila. Her face looked like it had been dipped in ink. She was so black. High cheekbones and a cropped haircut made her look like a warrior from some African tribe from the distant past.

“I heard on my earbuds. You did it,” Malila smiled. She had just finished her run and wore the same green and gold tracksuit fitted for her petite frame.

“That I did,” he kissed her neck and face in a pecking fashion. The slight rumble of a vehicle broke up their smooching session. It grew louder and then stopped.

“Gunther, open the gates,” the home smart system responded.

Vans with satellites, small cars and trucks paraded up to the front door of the Hilroy residence. Reporters with their audio and visual devices rolled up like a processional of journalistic, motorized question marks.

“Dr. Hilroy!” became a chant that prompted both Hilroys to look at each other.

“Why don’t you go in there and I’ll face the world,” Dr. Hilroy said to Malila.

“I’m right here with you. Nothing’s going to stop me from standing here,” she said.

Dr. Hilroy looked at her in a curious way. As if she were some dignitary or some sculpture come to life. He looked out at the crowd.

“Yes, I’ll take the first question.”

“Why did you do this?” Annette Hacklin asked.

“I said that American builders from the railroads to oil to internal combustion engines to microchips have been able to make their products available to the middle and lower classes. Why can’t I do the same with genetically modified people? So, I figured that in order to make the world and my life better, I would relinquish my patents to the public domain.”

“Will you still invest in bioengineering?” Leon Gaither asked.

“When I started my first projects in graduate school as a researcher and then became an adjunct professor, I knew that I would have to do something of great worth. In the meantime, I made a fortune for myself and my wife and children. I plan to keep that intact with further investments and what I already have.”

“What will this do?”

“You know how those women in Beverly Hills were healed of their Parkinson’s disease? Both of them, friends had the same illness and GMOs from my lab erased the traits in their DNA so that their offspring would not have it. Consider the tech couple in Silicon Alley in New York City, the woman had breast cancer and the man had brain cancer. Their children will never have to suffer from those ailments. ‘But what about the poor? What about the middle class?’ I don’t give a damn about the poor or the middle class or the rich. I’m invested in human flourishing. That’s it.”

A hush came over the bevy of journalists all lined up with their hands outstretched like smokers trying to gain light from a torch in the dark.

“Do you think some of this move is actually selfish on your part?”

“No. I know that it’s all selfish. I have agreed to allow the whole world no matter their bank account status to live healthier, longer, happier lives. Disease has plagued humans since our inception. Now, with GMOs, we have the chance to reverse those trends and become bastions for wellness. It takes a great deal of self-interest and greed to want to help someone who deserves it.”

Malila stood next to Dr. Hilroy and actually now looked like a sculpture. She canted her head back a bit and stood with her hands behind her back.

“Where is the funding going to go? Government or private?”

“I believe in the separation of the government from private affairs. The public domain means individuals can use it without paying. I made my money. I want no government officials to do anything but protect people who want to discover these genetically modified organisms. I will receive no royalties, publishing, or other residuals from these patents. Private medical services will be able to use my work to create new medicines. The beauty of how the healthcare system will be handled without the interference of government agencies like the federal government’s Nutrition and Narcotics Administration is what is critical. My fight now is with dismantling and eliminating that organization so that lives can be saved.”

“Doesn’t the NNA save us from harmful substances?”

“No. They do the opposite. I’ve been battling the NNA for years now. All they are is an agency that fiddles about and uses their bureaucratic tentacles to disrupt, demean, and destroy. More people have died because of the NNA than any war, drought, or other calamity in this country combined. With this new ability to allow GMOs to freely flow throughout the United States and the world, we may have an opportunity to see the NNA vanish.”

Then, a reporter stepped forward and cleared her throat. She represented Channel 30 in Wilmington, Delaware. Her blond hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her face looked like marble without the mottling. A cameraman accompanied her. She asked, “What is your greatest achievement, Dr. Hilroy?”

He never hesitated. “This woman standing beside me, marrying her was my best achievement.” Malila hugged and kissed her husband and they returned to the interior of their home, hand in hand.

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