“No, I’m afraid not,” Danchekker said in reply to a question from Rousson. “We have no idea at present what its purpose was. Certain functions in its reaction equations suggest that it could have contributed to the modification or breaking down of some kind of protein molecule, but precisely what molecule or for what purpose we don’t know.” Danchekker gazed around the room to invite further comment but nobody appeared to have anything to say. The room became quiet. A mild hum from a nearby generator became noticeable for the first time. At length Hunt stubbed his cigarette and sat back to rest his elbows on the arms of his chair. “Sounds as if there’s a problem there, all right,” he commented. “Enzymes aren’t my line. I’m going to have to leave this one completely to you people.”
“An, nice to see you’re still with us, Vic,” Danchekker said, raising his eyes to take in the far end of the table. “You haven’t said a word since we sat down.”
“Listening and learning.” Hunt grinned. “Didn’t have a lot to contribute.”
“That sounds like a philosophical approach to life,” Fichter said, shuffling the papers in front of him. “Do you have many philosophies of life. . . maybe a little red book full of them like that Chinese gentleman back in nineteen whatever it was?”
“Fraid not. Doesn’t do to have too many philosophies about anything. You always end up contradicting yourself. Blows your credibility.”
Fichter smiled. “You’ve nothing to say to throw any light on our problem with this wretched enzyme then,” he said.
Hunt did not reply immediately but pursed his lips and inclined his head to one side in the manner of somebody with doubts about the advisability of revealing something that he knew. “Well,” he finally said, “you’ve got enough to worry about with that enzyme as things are.” The tone was mildly playful, but irresistibly provocative. All heads in the room swung around abruptly to face in his direction.
“Vic, you’re holding out on us,” Sandy declared. “Give.”
Danchekker fixed Hunt with a silent, challenging stare. Hunt nodded and reached down with one hand to operate the keyboard recessed into the edge of the table opposite his chair. Above the far side of Ganymede, computers on board Jupiter Five responded to his request. The display on the conference room wall changed to reveal a densely packed columnar arrangement of numbers.
Hunt allowed some time for the others to study them. “These are the results of a series of quantitative analytical tests that were performed recently in the 15 labs. The tests involved the routine determination of the chemical constituents of cells from selected organs in the animals you’ve just been talking about-the ones from the ship.” He paused for a second, then continued matter-offactly. “These numbers show that certain combinations of elements turned up over and over again, always in the same fixed ratios. The ratios strongly suggest the decay products of familiar radioactive processes. It’s exactly as if radioisotopes were selected in the manufacture of the enzymes.”
After a few seconds, one or two puzzled frowns formed in response to his words. Danchekker was the first to reply. “Are you telling us that the enzyme incorporated radioisotopes into its structure. . . selectively?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
“That’s ridiculous,” the professor declared firmly. His tone left no room for dissent. Hunt shrugged.
“It appears to be fact. Look at the numbers.”
“But there is no way in which such a process could come about,” Danchekker insisted.
“I know, but it did.”
“Purely chemical processes cannot distinguish a radioisotope from a normal isotope,” Danchekker pointed out impatiently. “Enzymes are manufactured by chemical processes. Such processes are incapable of selecting radioisotopes to use for the
manufacture of enzymes.” Hunt had half expected that Danchekker’s immediate reaction would be one of uncompromising and total rejection of the suggestion he had just made. After working closely with Danchekker for over two years, Hunt had grown used to the professor’s tendency to sandbag himself instinctively behind orthodox pronouncements the moment anything alien to his beliefs reared its head. Once he’d been given time to reflect, Hunt knew, Danchekker could be as innovative as any of the younger generation of scientists seated around the room. For the moment, then, Hunt remained silent, whistling tunelessly and nonchalantly to himself as he drummed his fingers absently on the table.