THE EXTENDED LIFE BRIGADE

  Dr. Narb had been looking at all of us with incredible intensity while Captain Dupuis was talking. I wondered what he was thinking. I have to admit that I shuddered with excitement on hearing his name. I never knew what he looked like before then; I wanted to know why we never saw pictures of him, the real reason or at least the official reason why. Gee, who would ever take him for a 170- or 180-year-old? We must have seemed like children to him! He was just as exciting to listen to as I could have anticipated, and in all my years of acquaintance with him since then he's always seemed to be the same person.
  Stanley had a way of masking his enormous erudition and his record of extraordinary scientific experimentation in several fields (computer technology, genetics, even geology and astrophysics–he made great use of his extended life) behind words that even the non-technologically-oriented could easily  understand. Even with this group of young officers, whose training was in engineering and the sciences, he spoke in simple terms with a minimum of jargon. His talk was amply illustrated. A gentle, warm, and humble atmosphere seemed to emanate from him. He inspired confidence and empathy.
  He began his presentation virtually without an introduction.

  "I'd like to show you in the next few minutes exactly what the life-extending procedure consists of and why it works. It might be interesting for you to know that around the year 2000 people first found the genes that determine the death of cells. You can see them on this true-color hologram of some chromosomes of laboratory mice. Let me zero in on one of these and enlarge it a bit. There. By manipulating this and many other similar genes, it became possible within a century to extend the lives of laboratory mice and rats by about 100%, that is, to double their life span. Further experiments were carried on in the course of the next two centuries or so, using other species, from fish and reptiles to shrews and cats and dogs, and on to monkeys and apes. You see here holograms of some of these animals and their siblings. You'll notice that the animals not only look younger than their siblings, their behavior corresponds to that of animals the age they were at the time they underwent the procedure. (Wow! this is incredible! I thought, and probably everyone else in the room was thinking the same thing.) The immature animals remained immature, the elderly remained elderly, those in the middle stayed there. It appeared that the age these animals had at the time of the procedure is the age they would keep almost until death. We weren't sure this would apply to humans, but given the large number of species we had experimented with, it seemed like a reasonable assumption. If you look at Captain Dupuis, Commander Strozzi and me, you'll see that that's what happens with humans, too.
  "We had noticed several side effects, differing with the species involved and the number and type of cells whose genes were manipulated. The early experiments on mice, for instance, caused a change in the color of the fur; the rats shrank by about 10% of body mass; the caiman you see went blind. Bit by bit, such side effects were eliminated, but life was still extended by only 100%; that seemed to be the upper limit. Experiments in the last century changed that. Life extension in the order of 150% to 200% has become routine in the laboratory; we estimate that every member of the ELB can expect to live to the ripe old age of 325 to 350 years. Side effects were reduced to only two. But they are important, and seem to be impossible to avoid.
  "The first is that at the end of life all the experimental animals, without exception, have undergone a telescoped aging process. And, in every case, equating the average age of the experimental animal to that of a human being, we come up with the same result: the three of us, at the end of our lives, will almost certainly age and die within a year, becoming apparently two years older every week. This is still a great unknown for science, since of course no "longie" has as yet died of old age. At 175, I'm the oldest living member of the Brigade, and am most likely at the half point of my life span. You should also know that having one's life extended does not mean that everyone will live to the full extent of the extension: accidents, injuries, murder, disease–any of these can kill us just as thoroughly as it can kill you. You live longer, but you're not immortal. Still, the point I'd really want to make about this is that the psychological effects of rapid deteriorisation, especially after an exceptionally long life, is an unknown; it might well be devastating. We won't be able to begin gathering a significant amount of data on this phenomenon for another 200 years or so! It's obvious that if you don't want to take the risk of not being able to handle this change of life pattern, you should not consider entering the Brigade.
  "The second side effect is one that has had an impact on every current member of the ELB, and will have an impact on every new member. While the procedure does not in any way affect the libido–it neither enhances nor diminishes it, whether we look at animal studies or at our colleagues–it does render 100% of the subjects we have examined sterile, unable to have children. Yes, this includes all the humans who have undergone the procedure, about 1000 in total. Here too, and perhaps even more importantly than with the aging problem, you'll have to give serious thought to this matter before coming to a decision.
  "You'll also have to consider what it's like outliving all your non-ELB friends and acquaintances. And you'll have to put up with a much slower promotion time-scale. Nobody wants to have a Space Fleet composed of captains or admirals who have been in rank for 100 years or more!
  "Finally, I can assure you that in no case so far among the 1000 or so humans who have undergone this procedure has there been any other side effect. Except for those who have died of wounds or injuries or illnesses, all our Brigade members who were 30 years old when they underwent the procedure are still 30 years old. It is true that some of you, if you choose to join our ranks, are likely to be killed in combat or in some accident related to your duty, which is almost always hazardous."

  It was now Commander Strozzi's turn to speak. She was brief and to the point.

  "You might be wondering why you in this room were chosen to attend this presentation. In general, we try to look for recruits who have no close relatives and who are not themselves married. Unmarried, unattached orphans: that can describe everyone in this room, all fifteen of us. I see a lot of quizzical looks on your faces. The reason for this criterion is simple, when you get to think of it: if you choose to join the Brigade, your life will be extended by 200 years or so, to a total of 325 to 350 years overall, we think. Unattached orphans are most likely to be able to find happiness in the Brigade over the long haul. They won't see their siblings age and die while they themselves appear to be eternal 30-year-olds; they won't have regrets if their spouse and especially their children age and die before them. In a way, your family will become the ELB, an extended family at least.
  "You might also be wondering why you were brought in here under a veil of secrecy. I'll answer that as one of the security officers of the Brigade. Quite frankly, we try to keep the identity of most of our members a secret, at least at the beginning (after all, if you still seem to be 25 or 30 after 50 years of service, everyone will be in on your little secret!), because of the increasingly dangerous activity of the Militia."

  I felt a cold chill run up my spine at the very mention of the Militia, those religious vigilantes who had murdered my  family some years before, wiping out every trace of close relatives that I had. Every year about this time I recreated the events of that day, 21 years ago, in 2509, when I was a little girl of seven. (I still do this.)

  "The Militia seems to have unleashed its venom on the ELB in particular, and on Space Fleet, Future One, Ares and Aphrodite as well. It considers the very process of extending lives as anathema, and wants to eliminate everyone who has anything to do with it. This is why we have never permitted Dr. Narb to be photographed. We don't want to expose possible recruits to the Brigade to any more danger than they already face as officers in Space Fleet. And members of the ELB staff our space stations, and will be the principal members of our future planetary exploration missions, which are set to begin next year. Space stations, interplanetary exploration, that kind of thing also seems to be a target of the Militia: they want to take the term 'primitivist' literally, although it doesn't stop them from traveling, often illegally, to those very places they revile."
  "Now you know why you were selected to be brought here, and you know why your visit has been covered with a shroud of secrecy. You've learned first hand something about the ELB and the process that has made Dr. Narb, Captain Dupuis and me members of this organization. We'll now open the floor to discussion. You can direct your questions to one of us in particular, or to all of us in general."

  Wow! all of us were what's the term unattached orphans. I didn't know there were this many: not just a dozen potential recruits and the three speakers, but, over the years, 1000 people. I wonder if the others had to deal with a family destroyed by those bastards? The Militia! A bunch of cowards. A bomb at a family reunion. Randomly selected family, they claimed. But I bet they knew something about Uncle Gustavus and his connection with the development of the mission of Ares and Aphrodite. I only wish we had had an inkling of what was to happen, or that something had gone wrong. That's what I was thinking. I'm not sure what other people were thinking, but no one was speaking. Stanley broke the silence, repeating Commander Strozzi's invitation to us.

  "Captain Dupuis, Commander Strozzi and I will field any questions you might have."
  "Dr. Narb," asked a young man, "how do you do this procedure? I mean, we've seen holograms of chromosomes and genes that are blown up way over life-size, but you didn't say what your manipulation of them consists of, how many you have to work on, what the pain level is, how long the patient is out of commission."
  "There are several questions wrapped up in that one, and I'll answer as many of them as I'm allowed to. You see, the procedure is kept under far tighter security than what you have seen here today. What we do is this: we take tissue samples from various parts of the body, some blood samples, too, and work on all of these until we know for sure that they, that is, the affected genes, have all been altered in the same way. We run about fifty tests to make sure that everything is perfect and corresponds to a model. This causes in the subject no more discomfort than the collection of other tissue and blood samples that you're familiar with. We replace these altered genes in their chromosomes, and inject them, in a serum, into a nerve in the little toe of your less-dominant foot, which requires a local anesthetic. You're up and walking around with no problem, maybe in a few cases a little limp for a day or so. If all goes well, as it does in 97.5% of the cases, we know within a month if you're in the ELB. The cases that don't work the first time have always worked the second time around. All. 100% success rate."
  "Is this an irrevocable procedure? I know that Captain Dupuis seemed to indicate that it is, but suppose I undergo the procedure, and then decide after five years that I want to have kids, or that I don't want to live until 2850, what can I do?"
  "Ensign Plath, that's a question that calls for brutal frankness. Captain Dupuis has indeed indicated that the procedure seems to be irrevocable. We have been unable to reverse the genetic alterations in any of our animal or human subjects. It's the reason why we don't want you to rush into the Brigade. We give you up to five years to make up your mind. If we don't hear from you in that time, we assume you don't want to join. It's enough time for you to make a reasoned decision. And if you can't make up your mind in that time-frame, in a real sense you will have made up your mind not to join, because you won't be allowed in after that."
  "Suppose I've always wanted to be in the ELB and want to sign up right away. Can I do it?"
  "Lieutenant Vasa, you'll have to wait at least a month. But this will be a month in which you'll be living, working, playing with people like us. You can speak with people who have been ELBers since the inception in 2401, and with relative newcomers, who have been in the Brigade for only 10 years or so. Just as we don't want people to take too long to decide, we also don't want people to make rash decisions to join."
  "Captain, how can 1000 people do all these things? I mean, this is a huge mission!"
  "Well, that's true, it is a huge mission, and 1000 people can't handle it all, at least not by themselves. We'll be working with, alongside of, and in some cases under the control of, ordinary people on some or all these missions. At the same time, we hope to be able to grow at a more dynamic rate than we have up to now. One thing we have on our side is time. With patience we should be able to cross the galaxy eventually. And as Commander Strozzi will tell you if you ask her, we're determined to wipe out the Militia if it takes us a hundred years or more!"
  A somewhat timid man asked, "Commander, will you expand on that? Why should the main target of the Militia be the ones to seek them out?"
  "Lieutenant Ambab, the reason is twofold. First, we have a greater motivation than anyone else to carry out this mission. The problem is really that we have to work hard at removing the subjectivity from our task, we have to try to deal with an emotional subject--you're out to kill me--with all the calm of an entomologist studying an ant colony. Second, even if it takes us a millenium to finish the job, we have time on our side. Each one of us will live, on average, about two and a half times as long as any Militia person. We'll have to perfect our networks, improve our methods, discover new ways of dealing with this movement, create new structures to make our efforts as effective as possible. It will take courage, imagination, determination, energy, and time. We have all of those qualities."
  "How DO you deal with being perpetually 30 years old even though you're really over 100? And, this is addressed to Dr. Narb, how can you spend your life never being out in public?"
  "It's wonderful being 30 every day of your life!" answered Commander Strozzi, with exuberance. "The problem you see, and that we feel, is that our non-ELB friends grow old and a few of them that we've known have already died; that will only get worse in the future. And that's hard, just as hard as having a friend killed in action or dying because of an accident or of some disease. I think the hardest things to deal with are that you seem to others to be much younger and much less experienced than you are (the slow promotion track doesn't help there!) and that some people seem to look on us as freaks of some sort. That, and the need to keep up with the times, to move forward with the centuries, not to be stuck back in the century and the events of our childhood and adolescence. You do have lots of time to become conversant in many fields of knowledge; and while I don't think anyone has come close to matching Dr. Narb's versatility, many of our colleagues have studied art, music and literature, physics, philosophy and psychology, mathematics, politics and sociology, to name a few subjects. My own interest is history: I'm studying the effect of the rise in sea level on the coastal communities around my ancestors' home town, Genoa. This is a corps of pretty bright people, serious, action-oriented, studious. And like everyone else, fun-loving. If that's enough of an answer, I'll let Dr. Narb answer the question you addressed specifically to him."
  "I think that the first thing I'd say about my never going out in public is that you're operating under a false impression. Since almost nobody knows what Dr. Narb looks like, I'm free to go almost anywhere. It is true that I travel with one or more companions and have a false ID (government-approved, of course!). You've probably seen me a dozen times without ever noticing me. I've been everywhere any of you have been for the past ten years or more, and might even have been in your home towns. Anyone from Ulan Bator? Ah, yes! I was there 12 years ago, traveling then under the name of an old French poet, Stéphane Mallarmé. I gave a poetry reading!"
  "I can't believe it! That was you? I was there!"
  "What more can I say? There are pictures of Stéphane Mallarmé reading his poetry in Ulan Bator, but none of Stanley Narb, research surgeon of the Extended Life Brigade. And, by the way, this is a military secret. Really."