39

The FBI was humming to get its hands on the compound. But the crowd was restless for Roger to come to the mike.

After Brett surrendered the guns and the police took away Antoine Ducharme and his men, Brown and his agents tried to corral the Glovers into the house to retrieve the last of the Elixir, wherever it was. But that was not the deal.

Roger had promised a news briefing, and they were going to get one. And live cameras guaranteed that.

Roger moved onto the porch with Brett and Laura by his side. Behind them stood several uniformed police, Brown, and his agents. Brown held a hand radio that kept him in moment-to-moment communication with unseen superiors.

That bothered Roger. He sensed conflicting lines of awareness. This was not protocol. It was sloppy. It had gone public. It set forth conditions the Feds were reluctant to address.

Shortly Brown moved to the top step and waved his hands to quiet down the crowd.

"I'm Eric Brown of the FBI, Madison, Wisconsin Field Office. Mr. Glover has agreed to make a few brief statements before we leave. When he's through, we ask that you please return to your vehicles and depart the premises."

"What about questions?"

"This is not a press conference."

There were shouts of disapproval. Roger turned to Brown. "I can take a few questions."

Brown cocked his head to hear whoever was in his earpiece. He muttered something into his phone. "Just a brief statement," he said flatly.

Roger moved to the mike. "I had originally intended to give a statement of our innocence of the charges, but fortunately that's been established.

"I don't know who those men were, but the fact that they intended to kill more people underscores the dangers inherent in the substance, including some misconceptions the media's latched onto.

"In spite of all the claims, I am not immortal. If you cut me I'll bleed. If you shoot me I'll die. There's no way of knowing how long I'll go on, but it's not indefinitely because eventually my internal organs will give out. Whenever is anybody's guess."

People tried to stop him with questions, but he held his hands up and continued.

"Second, for all its appeal, Elixir is fraught with terrible dangers-personally, medically, socially, and morally. I need not go into details, but I cannot stress enough that the substance presents more problems than it solves. And I speak from experience."

"What kinds of medical problems?"

Brown tried to cut in, but Roger took the questions. "You've seen videos of animals fast-forward aging. That's the consequence of withdrawal."

"Is that what would happen to you?" shouted a red-haired woman.

Brown who was back-and-forth on his radio phone cut in. "There will be no more questions. Otherwise we will terminate this briefing."

The crowd did not like that, but quieted down.

Roger continued. "A key term of our agreement is that the entire supply of Elixir be turned over to Public Citizen for research into its cancer-fighting properties exclusively. Second, that research protocol and data be closely monitored to prevent application to human prolongevity.

"For the record, the government understands and agreed to those conditions."

"Finally, contrary to reports, there are no hidden caches of the substance. The world's entire supply is at this site."

Another stir rippled through the crowd.

"Where?" somebody shouted.

Brown and his men closed around the Glovers.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"How much is left?"

Suddenly the crowd was restive and firing questions.

The police started to push back the reporters, until a tumult rose up and people began shoving. A line of uniforms pressed against the crowd.

Things were nearly out of hand. In a moment batons would start swinging and heads would be bloodied.

"I'll take questions," Roger said to Brown.

"No, you won't." Brown's men began corralling them inside.

Roger didn't like that. They were doing all they could to separate them from the media, to get their hands on the compound and haul them to headquarters in Manhattan. Another agenda had taken over.

Roger grabbed the microphone from a uniformed cop. "Hold it. I'll take your questions."

Brown made a move for the mic. But somebody squawked something in his ear. Whoever was calling the shots wanted this over with peacefully.

Brown pulled Roger aside. "Those aren't my orders."

"You've got a hundred million people in those lenses. They are your orders."

Brown's resolve cracked as he motioned the police captain to pull his men off the crowd.

When the place settled, Roger spoke: "I'll take your questions, but orderly and with a show of hands, please."

The crowd pressed to the porch again.

When they calmed down, Roger said, "Okay."

The place erupted, hands flapping like cornstalks in a wind. A wall of directional mics and camera lenses poised on him.

"Dr. Glover, you said you may not live indefinitely, but is it true you haven't experienced any effects of aging since you began taking Elixir?"

"True."

"How old are you?" another shouted.

"Fifty-six."

A stir of amazement passed through the crowd.

"What about Mrs. Glover?"

Roger took the question. Laura had wanted no part of this. "We're the same age, but only I've taken the serum."

"Mrs. Glover," another reporter shouted. "Can you tell us why you decided against it?"

Again Roger took the question. "Just that she did."

But the reporter persisted in his attempt to engage Laura. "Do you regret that decision?"

"No," Laura answered.

"Has it caused problems for you as a family?" shouted the woman with the red hair and a TV 4 cameraman.

"Yes," Roger said without explanation.

"Dr. Glover, I'm wondering about the long-range effects of Elixir," shouted another. "If it doubles or triples the lifespan, wouldn't that mean you've invented a higher order of the human species-a kind of superman?"

Before he could answer, two other reporters blurted out questions. When they calmed down to hear his answer, more questions followed. Brown flapped his hands to tell them one at a time.

Roger was beginning to regret this. "You're missing the point. The compound will not be researched for longevity. Even if the side effects can be eliminated, it's dangerous and wrong-like human cloning, which is also banned…"

But nobody was listening.

He looked at Laura. She looked frightened. Brett stood beside her, numbed by the spectacle.

"If someone were to have a transfusion of your blood, would they live forever too?"

"Is it true the Elixir will prevent diseases?"

"Would the substance make anybody younger?"

Roger suddenly understood what Jesus must have felt like after raising Lazarus. Probably everybody in the village came after him with a laundry list of dead relatives.

He tried to answer, but the questions were coming rapid-fire. And the answers weren't registering. It was impossible.

"How much do you have to take for it to work?"

"Does it work on children, too?"

"What about very old people?"

They weren't getting it. They didn't have a bloody clue. And the millions catching it all would hear only eternal youth.

And tomorrow Larry King would call, and Barbara and Oprah. And he would be hounded by publicists and agents. And movie and book offers would come flooding in. And pharmaceutical companies would be calling with fabulous contract offers. And telephone calls in the middle of the night: "Hey, Rog, it's Charlie from Swanson's Steak House. Whaddya say, just a little eternity juice for your favorite waiter?"

As he stood there before the foaming crowd, the future lay its lurid self out in front of him. Laura was right. They would hound them like jackals. No matter if he didn't have more than two cc's in his possession, they would be after him for samples.