The Last Day (20 page)

“I tried to get Mrs. Leveque to open up a bit, but she seemed very nervous, although I could tell she wanted to talk with someone. When I told her about us, who you were and all, she got extremely anxious and made me swear an oath that I wouldn't say anything to you. She made some excuse and hung up. I thought that was the end of it, but then today, she called to say she wanted to meet with you and me tomorrow morning and that it was very important. But only you and me and no cameras or tape recorders. She was calling from a pay phone because she was afraid her home was bugged.”

Feldman looked off in the distance at the disappearing ocean liner and sighed appreciatively. “You don't know how timely this is!” He gave her a vigorous hug. “When do we meet?”

“Seven o'clock, tomorrow morning.”

He feigned a frown of concern. “Then we'd better get to bed early tonight, wouldn't you say?”

43

Nordau Towers, Tel Aviv, Israel 7:00
A.M
., Saturday, January 22, 2000

A
nne Leveque arrived promptly and nervously at the appointed hour. Anke invited her in and introduced her to Feldman, whom she immediately recognized. “You're as handsome in person as you are on TV,” she complimented him in excellent English, and Feldman smiled graciously.

Mrs. Leveque was a sprightly, dignified-looking woman, in her early seventies, Feldman guessed. Nicely dressed, with thick silver hair swept back and secured by a gold clasp. Although she smiled with her lips, her gray eyes and brow were in perpetual worry. Feldman reassured her that she could place her trust in Anke and him.

As if she'd finally resolved her inner conflicts, she stared closely at them for a moment, reached over to take their hands in hers, and whispered softly, “You make such a wonderful couple. Jozef and I were much like you many years ago.”

Feldman glanced over at Anke, who was sitting close to him with large tears in her eyes.

Mrs. Leveque attempted another half smile. “Yes, I know I can trust you both and I will do what I have to do.” She grew serious again and stared intently at Feldman. “Jon, I want you to know that I love my country dearly and would never do anything to harm it. What I am about to tell you is not a betrayal of Israel. It concerns a secret IDF operation unknown even to the prime minister or the Knesset. And that makes my situation all the more serious because the operation is outside the law.”

She could no longer look Feldman in the eye. “I am ashamed to admit to you that I and my late husband played a major part in all of this.”

Feldman frowned and reclined slightly in his chair.

“As you know,” the woman proceeded, “the IDF functions under the control of Defense Minister Shaul Tamin, who is directly involved in this operation. Tamin is a ruthless man, and what I say here will place me at great risk. Nevertheless, for the safety—and possibly the life—of someone… very important to me, I must do this. I must expose something I fervently believe is against all the laws of God and nature.

“But I must have your solemn oath that certain aspects of this story, which I will designate to you, be held in the strictest confidence.”

They both solemnly agreed.

This seemed to satisfy Mrs. Leveque and she settled into the couch.

“It's an involved story and I should start from the beginning.”

“Do you object to my taking notes?” Feldman asked.

“Not so long as you don't record names or those details that I will indicate as sensitive.”

Mrs. Leveque opened her large saddle purse next to her chair and withdrew a worn, clothbound album. “Because you will not believe what I am about to tell you, when I am finished I will share with you my husband's diary, which will substantiate everything. You understand, however, I cannot let you borrow it. It is all I have left of these last strange years with Jozef.”

Feldman nodded. Mrs. Leveque held the diary in both hands, as if drawing strength from it.

“First,” she began, “let me explain to you that I met my husband Jozef at the University of Cologne in 1952 where we were both graduate students in biology. We fell in love, and after completing our degrees, Jozef received a professorship at the University of Tel Aviv. We married against my parents’ objections—I'm a devout Catholic and Jozef is Jewish—and we moved here in the summer of 1954.”

Feldman noted with interest that, unlike his parents, the Leveques seemed to have reconciled their disparate religious persuasions.

“Jozef quickly earned a research position at the university and I was also offered a biology professorship there. Because of our careers, we decided to forgo having children. Our daughter, Marie, who was born in 1968, was a wonderful accident. It wasn't until we had her that we realized how much we'd been missing in our lives. Marie was the most loving, intelligent and happy child a parent could ever wish for. She completed perfectly the love Jozef and I shared.

“But then, in the early spring of 1992, my only child, my beautiful, bright twenty-four-year-old Marie, was nearly killed in a senseless, brutal act of terrorism by the Hezbollah near the Western Wall in Jerusalem. My Marie was never a political person. She was kind, gentle, caring. Simply out on an innocent excursion in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“A car bomb exploded. A piece of shrapnel struck Marie in the back of the head—”

Feldman felt his stomach knot.

Mrs. Leveque's eyes were misting, but she kept her composure. “Today, my beautiful Marie lies as she has for eight years. In a coma, on artificial sustenance, in a special medical room at my home.”

She exhaled deeply before continuing. “Marie was Jozef's greatest joy. He lavished his love on her and this senseless tragedy was devastating to him. But rather than let it destroy him, and rather than accept it as the will of God, he considered it a challenge. He resolved to conquer it. That was his nature.

“At first, Jozef felt he could possibly restore Marie—and now I am entering a subject that must remain proprietary.”

Feldman dutifully put down his pen and pad.

“Jozef's field of research at the university was bio-electronic circuitry, a hybrid field of science pursuing ways to integrate nerve tissues with microchip circuitry. His research team had developed a type of microchip on which nerve tissue would grow and mesh, creating artificial nerve pathways.

“Jozef's objective was to design, for lack of a better term, nervous system patches. These patches would be used to help restore motor function in cases of paralysis, such as in severe spinal column trauma. The idea was to insert the patches into damaged pathways to reconnect severed or damaged nerves.

“By activating individual, microscopic areas of the chip, the theory was, you could turn on or turn off various, random nerve pathways through the chip. Through trial and error, you would finally locate all the correct connections to unite the proper brain impulses with the proper muscles to make the limbs function normally again. It was brilliant and very promising research.

“But, as advanced as Jozef's work was, Marie's injuries proved far too extensive to benefit. There was no hope of restoring her faculties, even if she could be awakened from the coma, which was unlikely.”

She now allowed Feldman to resume his note taking.

“Prior to Marie's accident,” she continued, “a colleague and great friend of many years, Dr. Giyam Karmi, had offered Jozef a department directorship at the Israeli Negev Research Institute to conduct advanced genetic studies on livestock. For reasons that only became clear to me later, Jozef felt this position would allow him access to specialized equipment and technologies that might be of some help to Marie. So, while maintaining his fellowship and research at the university, in the fall of 1994 Jozef took the position at the institute and began working closely with Dr. Karmi.

“In merging their different fields of expertise, along with that of other brilliant scientists at the institute, Jozef and Giyam developed a number of ingenious processes for accelerating bovine growth.”

“Super cattle?” Feldman suggested.

“No, not super cattle. Not larger or stronger, necessarily. Just faster growing. Much faster growing. Reaching optimum size and weight far more efficiently and cost-effectively than with conventional animal husbandry. Their work was stunning. Light-years ahead of anyone else. You see, the cattle weren't raised in any way similar to the standard methods. No pens. No food lots. They were gestated.”

“Gestated?” Feldman questioned. “Like incubating chicken eggs?”

“Well, no. They were maturated in artificial wombs.”

Feldman and Anke exchanged questioning glances.

“The process involved surgically removing the embryos from the host mother and transplanting them individually into special nurturing vessels, complete with artificial amniotic fluids and placental systems.

“The vessels were managed by a complex network of computers that would automatically monitor the developing fetuses and administer precise dosages of nutrients, vitamins, proteins and hormones, including specialized bovine and fetal growth hormones, stimulants to promote healthy, mature muscle development, and other compounds to force rapid growth. Unbelievably rapid growth.

“The maturing cattle embryos were kept tranquilized through the process and could be induced to develop to optimum adult size in less than five months.”

“Five months!” Feldman exclaimed. “You mean two months in the mother's womb and five months in the incubator?”

“No,” she replied, with some pride in her voice. “I mean a
total
of five months’ gestation, including both natural and artificial womb. Jozef and his associates’ process exploited the accelerated growth that all fetuses typically undergo during their final month of development. And magnified it sixfold.”

“Holy cow!” Feldman blurted out, despite himself.

For the first time, Anne Leveque showed a full and genuine smile. “Yes. A cow that could be raised entirely to adulthood in a virtually automated, efficient completely monitored and controlled environment Free of injury and infectious disease.

“With a little time and perfecting, Jozef and Giyam could have turned their process into a highly cost-effective operation. An ideal means for providing this country of limited pastureland with high-quality, whole-some, lean beef, at dramatically reduced production costs.”

“What happened?” Anke asked.

Mrs. Leveque's face faded back into the familiar, anguished mask. “I could never have imagined that Jozef had an ulterior motive for the relentless passion he poured into his work. To him, this great achievement was simply a means to restore our beloved Marie to us.”

“I don't understand,” Feldman interjected. “If Marie's condition was irreversible, I don't see how this artificial gestation system, as miraculous as it sounds, would be applicable.”

“And now we come to the damnation of it all,” Mrs. Leveque spoke this as if releasing a terrible burden. “Jozef's intent wasn't to cure Marie. It was to
re-create
her!”

Feldman and Anke looked flabbergasted.

Mrs. Leveque paused for a moment stared down at her tightly clasped hands, and then continued.

“You are familiar with some of the recent experiments that have resulted in the successful cloning of higher-level mammals and primates?”

The couple nodded their heads.

“Well”—she looked up, readily apparent pride showing in her eyes—”Jozef eclipsed all of these remarkable accomplishments—and by more than a full year, I might add. His methods, however, were quite different. He utilized a procedure he developed called polar body fertilization.”

Feldman wrinkled his forehead with puzzlement.

“Let me explain. If you've ever taken a biology course, you may recall that during the early stages of egg formation in the human female, the immature ovum cell undergoes a change known as diploidy. That is, it doubles from forty-six chromosomes to ninety-two. Next, the egg cell undergoes haploid division. That is, it splits into two cells of forty-six chromosomes each. Finally, in a process called meiosis, it divides for the last time into four cells of twenty-three chromosomes each, all contained within one common membrane.

‘Two of these four cells are larger, one of which will win out over the other cells and eventually become a mature egg. The two smaller cells are known as polar bodies. These smaller cells also contain twenty-three chromosomes but very little cytoplasm—the substance that surrounds the nucleus and makes up the bulk of a cell.

“Without the cytoplasm, these polar body cells are quite similar in composition to male sperm cells. Under the right conditions, it is possible to reunite the polar body with the matured egg cell, producing a complete, fertilized egg.

“It's a process known as polar body fertilization, and the resulting offspring, if the pregnancy goes to term, would be female, and always identical to its mother. That's to be expected, because obviously the baby will possess all the chromosomes, exactly the same chromosomes, as its mother. A carbon copy.

“Jozef's strategy was to perform a polar body fertilization procedure with Marie's ova, without my knowledge, because he knew I would never agree to such a thing. On certain days when I was teaching at the university, Jozef would dismiss Marie's nurse to conduct his operations. He extracted numerous ova from Marie, separated out the polar bodies at the lab, and performed in vitro polar body fertilizations. Subsequently, in December of 1995, Jozef implanted numerous fertilized ova back into Marie's womb, four of which ultimately developed into viable fetuses. Later, he removed all the embryos in a cesarean section and secretly installed them in special gestation vessels at the Negev Institute.

“Jozef attempted to explain away Marie's incision as an emergency appendectomy. But I saw through him and he finally opened up to me with the entire story. To my eternal shame, I must admit to you that, after my initial shock and disbelief, I, too, was lured into his madness.

“The thoughts of having my Marie back, of being able to look into her eyes, to hear her laugh, to hold her close to me, normal, healthy, happy again—my angel child—it was too much for me to resist! And I could not help but support Jozef in his plans. Although I must also admit to you that I lived in constant fear of God's retribution, which I feel is now coming to pass.”