Free The Crystal Child by Theodore Roszak

cascade of miseries flowed from a few failing genes. One of these — a discovery credited to Forrester — bore the nondescript name p21.  It did not glow like alchemical gold or burn like magic fire under the microscope, but it was a cellular mastermind.  P21 was a master gene that issued silent orders to scores of other genes, including many whose job it is to mix the proteins that still other genes needed if they were to grow.  But with the passage of years, p21 can become weary and begin to send out signals to stop growing.  At that point, the body lurches toward senility.  So then, the obvious question: could science drill down into the dark, organic depths of the body and switch these signals off and on as it might choose?  Would the result then be a body that did not age or aged so slowly that it mimicked immortality?  Was something like that happening inside Aaron’s genome?  In the thirteenth month of his treatment, his p21 master gene was toiling away with all its original infantile energy.  That was what Forrester had to report.  Aaron’s once crippled gene had become a powerhouse that showed no sign of flagging.  That changed everything.
    Before Aaron had recovered from his coma, monitoring his treatment had been a reluctant favor on Forrester’s part.  Now he was calling to announce a significant discovery.  “Your boy isn’t suffering from progeria. At least not any known form.  He may be experiencing accelerated aging, but his genes diverge from every known progeric pattern.  That could be hopeful.  It may mean you can arrest the disease.  That looks like what’s happening with p21.  The kid is going into remission.”
    “Can you recommend anything?”
    “The first thing I’d recommend is that you stick a name on whatever ails him.  Name it after yourself.  Stein’s Syndrome.  Your name will live in medical history.  Either you’ve discovered a significant variation on progeria or an entirely new disease.  Beyond that, we need to bear down on his DNA.  This is a remarkable effect, Julia.  How did you produce it?”
    “I’ve been doing so many things,” she said, fighting back the embarrassment she felt for a weak answer. “It’s hard to know which treatment might have … ”
    “Have you been using any radiation?”
    “No.”
    “You’re sure?  Because nothing you feed him or dose him with could yield a change like this.  Broccoli and brown rice don’t soak through to the genes, you know.”
    “I’ve been doing as much caloric restriction as he can tolerate.”
    “Ah, that might explain the abnormal amounts of SIR2 I’m finding, which is also a good sign.”  SIR2 was one of Forrester’s current passions, a gene that fights off oxidants and strengthens the immune response.  It seemed to increase under conditions of stress, such as cutting back on calories, a practice that mimicked starvation.  In the right amounts, SIR2 can extend the life span of yeast, fruit flies, and even mice.  “You should keep that going, maybe push it further.”
    Julia did not like that idea.  She felt guilty enough denying Aaron as much dessert as he wanted.   “The boy’s life is hard enough without starving him more.”
    “Okay, but I want you to send me more samples.  Maybe there’s an error somewhere.  I hope not, but changes of this importance should be checked several times over.”
    Julia agreed to send more samples, but she knew there was no error.  She was seeing other changes in Aaron’s lab work.  His EKG was showing numbers very near to normal. His liver function was improving and he was excreting a healthy level of hyaluronic acid.  Julia also began to notice physical improvements in his stamina, his breathing, his skin turgor. All of these would have impressed another physician as objective indications of recovery.  But none struck her so dramatically as the one big change that had set in since he awoke from his coma.  Nothing physical. A single