Chapter 845

Pretty much everything in the world was subject to judgment.

People cared about what others thought of them, or at least about the consequences of being judged. The difference was simply what kind of judgment mattered.

A restaurant owner wanted customers to say the food was delicious. A driver wanted people to praise his skill behind the wheel. A dancer wanted to be told she had a beautiful figure. A singer wanted people to compliment her voice.

Even comedians wanted their peers to admit they were funny.

Well... mostly.

Everyone wanted to be told they were good at what they did.

The pharmaceutical industry was no different.

For a drug company, however, there were really only two opinions that mattered.

First, that the medicine was genuine.

Second, that it actually worked.

Everything else was secondary.

"People are free to say whatever they want," Moira said, shaking her head with faint disdain. "If they want to boycott our company, that’s perfectly fine."

She shrugged.

"When they’re sick and dying, and discover that our medicine is the only thing that can save them, they can refuse to take it and die with their principles intact."

Her expression remained completely calm.

"Then their boycott will have succeeded."

In other words:

Your life is yours. The medicine is ours. Use it or don’t.

It really was that simple.

Healthy people didn’t buy life-saving medicine in the first place.

So let them protest.

Let them claim the drugs were stained with the blood of innocent people. Let them condemn Gospel Corporation as loudly as they wanted.

As long as they were healthy, none of it mattered.

They were spending someone else’s moral capital.

The real test came when they were lying in a hospital bed, their body consumed by disease, clinging to life one miserable breath at a time.

Place a bottle of medicine beside them.

Tell them that drinking it would save their life.

Then ask them what they smelled.

The stench of death?

Or the fragrance of life?

It sounded tyrannical because it was.

It was a monopoly.

If a restaurant served terrible food, you could eat somewhere else.

If you hated a song, you could listen to another.

But what happened when there was only one medicine capable of saving your life?

What exactly were you supposed to use instead?

When your life was completely dependent on something controlled by another person, that person naturally had the upper hand.

The only rebellion left to you was choosing a dignified way to die.

And even then, the person holding the medicine might not care.

It was unfair.

It was unreasonable.

It wasn’t even particularly compassionate.

Unfortunately, that was reality.

Which was why Moira had no fear of public opinion.

In fact, she barely cared about it at all.

Doctors were supposed to heal people.

Moira preferred to think of medicine as science.

And science demanded progress.

Progress demanded experimentation.

Experimentation demanded sacrifice.

Modern medicine had been built on countless dead bodies.

That was simply the truth.

What did the dead matter?

What did the grief of the people they left behind matter?

Moira had already found a word for it.

Unfortunately, that was just how things worked.

"Don’t rush to call me heartless."

She leaned back.

"Almost everyone in the world has benefited from penicillin. But how many people died from allergic reactions during its development and widespread use?"

"Who was the first person to die from a penicillin allergy?"

"Can any of you answer that without looking it up?"

Her gaze swept across the room.

"Most of you probably couldn’t even immediately tell me who discovered penicillin."

"And you expect me to believe you mourned the people who died along the way?"

It wasn’t difficult to understand.

When had humanity ever genuinely cared about the suffering of strangers?

When people heard that someone had died during medical experimentation, they immediately reacted with horror.

How tragic.

Does scientific progress justify killing people?

That doctor is a murderer.

Fine.

Perhaps some of those reactions were sincere.

But the moment the next report announced that medicine had made a major breakthrough and several previously incurable diseases could now be treated, those same people would cheer.

Wonderful!

Amazing!

What an incredible scientist!

Because now they could imagine themselves benefiting from that scientific achievement.

But how many people had died to make it possible?

How many of those victims would anyone remember?

How many would mourn the sacrifices of people who had died without families or anyone to remember them?

Probably only Moira.

Because she was the one who had personally sacrificed them.

"All right, everyone."

Moira looked around the room.

"I’ve shown you several of our company’s achievements."

"Now I’d like to discuss one of our future projects."

The investors exchanged glances.

This was the real reason they’d come.

Everything they’d seen so far was already finished.

Investing in those products simply meant helping Gospel Corporation expand production and distribution.

The costs were manageable.

The profits were potentially enormous.

Essentially, they were being offered a chance to collect money without doing much work.

But there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Gospel Corporation wasn’t offering them this enormous slice of the pie for charity.

They wanted these investors tied to the company before moving on to the truly expensive part:

research and development.

Elizabeth straightened in her chair.

"What exactly is this project?"

"Our company is called Gospel because our purpose is to bring good news to all of humanity."

Moira’s expression became solemn.

"And this project is called the Human Instrumentality Project."

"Instrumentality?"

Mordo DuPont looked puzzled.

"Humanity has spent most of its history believing that it is an exceptional species."

Moira slowly explained.

"We call ourselves the pinnacle of creation."

"But that’s only because the creatures around us are unintelligent animals."

"Even then, humans don’t possess the strength of a bear, the speed of a leopard, or the eyesight of an eagle."

"In other words, even compared with animals, we’re deficient in certain areas."

She paused.

"And now we’ve learned that humanity isn’t the only intelligent species in the universe."

"Aliens are no longer a theory. They’ve been demonstrated to us in the most brutal way imaginable."

"The Chitauri who invaded Earth were merely a puppet species, so let’s set them aside for the moment."

"But what about the Asgardians?"

"This is a civilization we once worshiped as gods."

"How do humans compare to them?"

She didn’t wait for anyone to answer.

"Asgardians possess bodies harder than steel. Their physical strength surpasses even the greatest machines humanity has created."

"And then there’s their lifespan."

"An average of five thousand years."

She shook her head.

"It’s enough to make anyone jealous."

"So..."

Moira folded her hands.

"The uncomfortable truth is that compared with the Asgardians, humanity is an inferior species."

"Lower life."

The atmosphere around the table immediately soured.

Nobody enjoyed being called an inferior species.

But after the initial irritation came an uncomfortable silence.

Their families might have immense influence on Earth.

They might be able to move markets, governments, and politicians with a phone call.

But compared with Asgard?

What did any of that mean?

"Humanity isn’t perfect."

Zoral Rockefeller, who had remained silent until now, managed a strained smile.

"Humanity has weaknesses. So your plan is to correct those weaknesses?"

"Precisely."

Moira nodded.

"Species evolve through competition."

"But for most of human history, we’ve only competed against ourselves."

"Our progress has therefore slowed."

"Now the Asgardians have appeared before us."

"So why not use them as our benchmark?"

"Why not reignite humanity’s evolutionary path and catch up?"

"Reignite our evolutionary path?"

Pepper narrowed her eyes.

"Are you—or rather, is your company—trying to play God?"

"That would be a misunderstanding."

Moira’s eyes gleamed with something approaching fanaticism.

"I’m a scientist."

"To me, a god can be a phenomenon."

"Or a species."

"If an actual god appeared in front of me, my first thought wouldn’t be worship."

"It would be to dissect the phenomenon."

"To understand its structure."

"To determine its principles."

Her voice became almost reverent.

"Translating the truths of existence into something humanity can understand is the scientist’s only true duty."

Pepper said nothing.

She was beginning to wonder whether the woman standing before her really was Maya Hansen.

There were similarities in their faces.

But their personalities were radically different.

The Maya Hansen Pepper remembered had been a brilliant scientist who had lost her way but still retained her humanity.

This Moira was different.

She seemed less like a person and more like the embodiment of an idea wearing the title of scientist.

If they really were the same person...

What had happened to her?

Could someone—or something—really twist a person’s personality this completely in such a short period of time?

"But the gap between humanity and the Asgardians is enormous," Rockefeller said.

"Can we really catch up?"

Ignoring the fanaticism behind Moira’s words, he had to admit that the underlying argument wasn’t unreasonable.

"From my analysis, the differences between species can primarily be divided into three categories."

Moira didn’t answer him directly.

"First, appearance."

"That is the easiest problem to solve."

"And fortunately, humans and Asgardians already look remarkably similar."

She paused.

"If you’re particularly fond of Thor’s rather rugged appearance, you can always visit a reputable plastic surgeon."

A few people around the table shifted awkwardly.

Moira continued without missing a beat.

"The most difficult difference is intelligence and cognition."

"But Asgardians aren’t necessarily more intelligent than humans."

"If Thor is our standard of comparison, we might even develop a small superiority complex."

A few investors exchanged amused glances.

"And the third difference is physical capability."

"That one is moderately difficult."

She raised three fingers.

"The most difficult problem doesn’t need to be solved."

"The easiest problem already has a solution."

"So all we need to overcome is the middle one."

"Moderately difficult?"

Mordo DuPont smiled.

"I don’t think I’d call it that."

"You’re talking about changing the human body on a fundamental level. That’s not something you accomplish by spending a few hours at the gym."

"So how exactly do you plan to solve it?"

The others were curious as well.

Still, most of them were approaching the discussion as an interesting theoretical exercise.

This was a long-term project.

An extraordinarily ambitious one.

Nobody expected Moira to have a practical solution ready today.

"Gene editing."

Moira said the words with absolute confidence.

"If humanity wants to surpass the Asgardians, we must change our genes."

"It is the only realistic method that can eventually be made available on a large scale."

"Gene editing?"

Pepper finally recognized something familiar in Moira’s argument.

Killian had once pitched her something similar.

Back then, his goal had been to use Extremis to create super-soldiers.

Now Moira was wrapping the same basic concept in the language of human evolution.

Was this really different?

Or was it simply the same poison in a prettier bottle?

"Gene editing would raise some serious ethical questions."

Pepper shook her head.

"For example, if we alter our genes, are we still human?"

"Questions like that."

"They don’t need to concern us."

Moira didn’t hesitate.

"If early hominids had stopped to worry about ethics because further evolution might mean they were no longer hominids, would humanity exist today?"

She leaned forward.

"And if gene editing creates ethical problems, what about organ transplantation?"

"Taking an organ from a living or dead human being and putting it into your own body to stay alive—is that some kind of ghoul?"

"Or a stitched-together monster?"

"What about blood transfusions?"

"Saving someone’s life by putting another person’s blood into their body. Is that vampirism?"

"And pacemakers?"

"If a person’s life depends entirely on a tiny machine inside their body, does that make them an alchemical construct?"

"Humanity has already crossed similar ethical boundaries countless times throughout the history of medicine."

"Ethics and morality change as reality changes."

"And eventually, ethics yield to reality."

"It’s really that simple."

"It’s not that simple."

Pepper’s expression hardened.

Moira was treating the issue far too casually.

And gene editing posed problems that went far beyond ethics.

"If genetically enhanced humans appear, ordinary humans may become unable to compete."

"They could gradually disappear."

"Or become socially irrelevant."

"Humanity could enter a competition to redesign itself."

"That could create enormous social problems."

"It could completely transform the structure of civilization."

Moira merely nodded.

"I imagine it could."

She didn’t sound particularly concerned.

Pepper frowned.

"Your company obviously intends to profit from human enhancement."

"And you’ve clearly considered the possibility that it could create an extremely unequal society."

She looked directly at Moira.

"Aren’t you worried?"

"No."

Moira shook her head.

"There is nothing to worry about."

"The strong consuming the weak is reality, no matter how many polite words we use to disguise it."

"And you speak as though humanity would live in perfect harmony if this particular competition didn’t exist."

She spread her hands.

"Competition for resources."

"Competition for living space."

"Even competition for romantic partners."

"Humanity has already spent thousands of years competing over countless things."

"What’s one more?"

She shrugged.

"Besides, I’m a scientist."

"I research."

"I create."

"The consequences beyond that aren’t my responsibility."

The Eredar twins knew that this was their cue.

Olesia stood.

"I’ll admit that our company intends to profit from this technology."

"And I’ll also admit that the research will take time and require enormous financial investment."

"But the project is so ambitious that we’re planning to develop it in stages."

"If the first stage succeeds, humanity will be able to eliminate congenital diseases and develop extremely strong resistance to many acquired illnesses."

"Memory and reaction speed will also improve dramatically."

"As for lifespan..."

She paused thoughtfully.

"Perhaps another ten years or so."

The investors’ eyes immediately brightened.

Only Pepper had been thinking about the deeper implications.

For people with their wealth and connections, if the technology worked, they—or their children—would obviously be able to afford it.

"And the first stage will also produce valuable by-products."

Olesia continued.

"More advanced targeted gene therapies."

"Treatments for congenital diseases."

"Other pharmaceutical breakthroughs."

"Those products can generate considerable revenue long before the larger project is complete."

"As for the deeper social problems..."

Saloras rose and placed both hands on the table.

She looked around the room.

"Tell me something."

"Throughout human history, what major invention wasn’t initially available primarily to the wealthy?"

She gestured toward the windows.

"Cars, for example."

"When automobiles were first invented, weren’t they toys for the rich?"

"Could ordinary people afford them?"

"Today, cars are everywhere."

"Almost every family has one."

"Was that because someone solved the problem of economic equality first?"

"No."

"It happened because the technology matured, productivity increased, manufacturing costs fell, and eventually manufacturers realized that there was more money to be made by selling cars to ordinary people than by selling only to the wealthy."

"So production expanded."

"Prices fell."

"Cars stopped being luxury curiosities."

"And eventually almost everyone could own one."

"As for people who aren’t enhanced being left behind..."

Olesia took over.

"That’s simply the natural process of competition."

"Look at the steam engine."

"How many craftsmen and small workshops were destroyed by industrialization?"

"How many people lost their livelihoods and eventually starved?"

"Or steamships."

"How many people who once made their living hauling boats along rivers suddenly found their entire profession obsolete?"

She looked at Pepper.

"And, Ms. Potts, I won’t even bring up Tony Stark."

"If he hadn’t been born into immense wealth, how exactly would he have become Iron Man?"

Instead, Saloras leaned forward.

"Let’s talk about you."

"Would you be willing to remove every CNC machine from Stark Industries?"

"Would you dismantle the equipment responsible for your company’s efficiency and replace it with inefficient manual labor simply to create more jobs?"

Pepper fell silent.

Saloras smiled.

"But you raised such a serious moral concern."

"It would be heartless of us to ignore it."

Olesia turned toward Elizabeth with an almost radiant smile.

"Your family is one of the great financial powers in the world."

"So when our first stage succeeds, I’d like to ask the Morgan family to help all those ordinary people."

Elizabeth’s mouth twitched.

She already knew exactly where this was going.

"How?"

"Simple."

Olesia smiled.

"I’d like the Morgan banks to launch a loan program at the same time we release the technology."

"Something similar to mortgages or auto loans."

"We can call it a Gene Enhancement Loan."

"That should significantly reduce the problem."

"And since your family would be doing such a wonderful public service, we shouldn’t fail to contribute."

"Our company can guarantee that anyone who finances their treatment through your banks will receive a twenty-percent discount."

"That shouldn’t be difficult."

Elizabeth finally allowed herself to smile.

"Charity is one of the Morgan family’s traditions."

"We’ve always been enthusiastic supporters of charitable causes."

"We’d be delighted to help."

"Absolutely not."

Mordo DuPont immediately objected.

"Why should the Morgan family have all the glory?"

"Where does that leave our conscience?"

He sat forward.

"The DuPont family may not have the Morgan family’s influence in finance, but we’re perfectly capable of establishing a dedicated foundation to provide these loans."

"We’re all here to do business together."

"You can’t show favoritism."

"Exactly."

Zoral Rockefeller nodded enthusiastically.

"If we’re going to do charity, we should all do it."

"Why should you two have all the fun?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then Elizabeth’s smile became slightly harder to suppress.

She was beginning to understand exactly what kind of business meeting this was.

And somehow, she suspected Gospel Corporation had just found a way to make everyone pay for the privilege of saving humanity.

...