Carl stared at the spreadsheet on the computer screen, down in the lab. A list of names ran down the left side, and traits were listed in columns across the top. “Dammit!” he cursed.
Jordan walked through the door put the bowl of stew and cup of coffee he’d brought down on the counter. “What is it?
“None of them have my blood type. Every other blood type is represented, except O-positive.”
Jordan walked behind him to peer at the screen. “So maybe it’s not a big enough sample.”
Carl thought for a moment, then shook his head. Jordan had done well in advanced science classes, so his ideas were worth considering. He should have gone to college. “Highly unlikely. It’s the most common blood type; 38 percent of the population has it. Out of nearly 100 names, to not see even one is statistically highly improbable.”
Jordan pulled a stool over from the steel counter in the center of the room and sat down. “Thirty-eight percent… Luke said one in three dies of this. That’s about the right ratio.”
Carl stood up and paced back and forth. “If the problem is that I don’t have the right blood type, none of this helps. It’s not like I can change my blood type.”
Jordan nodded slowly. “I would think we can rule that option out.”
Carl glanced at the screen and continued to pace. “Yeah. The only way to do that is with a bone marrow transplant.”
Jordan slowly stood up. “Excuse me?”
Carl stopped pacing and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Bone marrow transplants can change a recipient’s blood type to the donor’s type.”
Jordan’s eyes were staring into space. “So… what you need is a bone marrow transplant.”
Carl shook his head with frustration. “That’s for people with leukemia, and it’s complicated and sometimes fatal. It also comes with a great deal of testing, monitoring, poking and prodding, possibly a lifetime of anti-rejection drugs that impair the immune system. And there’s no guarantee it would even work. Not an option.”
Jordan turned slowly to look at Carl. “Or the lycanthropy could kill you. What if computer records show that you have leukemia?”
Carl shook his head, exasperated. “I don’t see how that could happen, since I don’t.”
Jordan stared at him. “Records can be hacked.”
The intensity of Jordan’s gaze seemed to take Carl’s breath away for a moment, while his thoughts whirred madly in his head. “No… God no… that’s an insane hack, Jordan! That’s like a foreign country hacking – no, it might be harder than a foreign country hacking a political party’s files. Beyond the basic HIPAA security, false records would have to show I have leukemia to begin with, then I’d have to get my HLA typed, and the HLA typing would have to be inserted while covering the absence of leukemia, and this kind of thing would have to keep happening over and over every time a test is run to maintain the subterfuge. It’s not a single hack, it’s multiple hacks, with removal and insertion of data everywhere, repeatedly, without making anyone suspicious of recurring anomalies that are inevitable when electronic files are hacked. I can’t even imagine knowing anyone who could do that.”
Jordan dropped back down onto the stool. “Neither can I.”
A look of dawning realization came over Carl’s expression. “Maybe I can.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Like who?”
Carl stared off into space as he answered, “Luke.”