Jamie waited apprehensively for the knowledge that the next hour would bring. He had only been married for three months when the symptoms began to affect him badly. He was glad that his wife hadn’t noticed how run down he was getting. He had led her to believe that his fatigue was caused by job pressures at the University.

His energy had diminished rapidly over the last month, however, and it was only a matter of time before she discovered he was ill. He couldn’t remember the name of the disease that the doctors had told him, but he remembered their description of it’s effects easily enough. His body was running down. His DNA was no longer able to replicate without multiple errors.

The mechanisms to clean up the RNA-DNA replication process were no longer functioning. Like a mantle clock without a key, his system was unwinding inexorably toward entropic chaos. He would be dead within a month. Chelation and anti-oxidants had been tried on other patients without success. He sat in the specialist’s reception room waiting for a reprieve. The doctor had run a newly developed DNA test in the hope that the diagnosis was wrong.

“Mr. Farr are you here for your Thursday appointment with the doctor?”, the receptionist asked.

He nodded and went back to his thoughts.

“Mr. Farr, the doctor will see you now,” said the receptionist brightly.

He walked into the doctor’s inner office slowly, unwilling to face the death sentence he knew awaited within. The doctor stood as he entered and shook his hand. “How are you feeling today, Mr. Farr?”

“About the same,” he replied.

“I received the lab results this morning,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry, it’s not good news. My diagnosis was correct. I’ve checked the results with several experts in this disease and they concur with my opinion.”

“How……How long do I have?,” stammered Jamie.

“Three months, perhaps six at the outside. I sorry, Mr. Farr, there’s nothing we can do. You, of course, are free to get a second opinion, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope. Have you told your wife yet?”

“No, I didn’t have the heart. Mary and I only been married for six months. I didn’t want to tell her if there was a possibility that it was something else.”

The doctor, who had becoming more uncomfortable as the conversation went on, rose to end it. He held out his hand for Jamie to shake.

“Mr. Farr, If there is anything I can do for you please give me a call. I’m going to refer you back to your regular physician for treatment. I’ll send him my notes on your case.”

“Treatment?,” asked Jamie hopefully.

The specialist shook his head and said, “Symptomatic treatment only, Mr. Farr. He’ll start you on medications for nausea and pain.”

Jamie said goodbye and left the office in a daze. He felt he had to talk to someone about the diagnosis. Perhaps his friend, Ben, the molecular chemist would be able to give him some advice about what to say to Mary.

Ben’s office was extremely busy. Ben was surrounded by a group of happy graduate students slapping each other’s backs and shaking Ben’s hand. Ben waved at Jamie over the heads of the graduate students when he noticed Jamie standing at the entrance to his office.

“Be with you in a minute Jamie,” he said in a happy shout.

Ben slapped his students on the back and shoed them out of his office. “Come in. Come in Jamie,” said Ben. An open bottle of champagne sat on his desk. Ben picked up a glass of champagne and pressed it into Jamie’s hand. “We’re celebrating. Stage Three of the Nanobot project is a success.”

“Stage Three?,” asked Jamie absently. “Here Jamie, let me show you.” He riffled through a stack of diagrams on his desk until he found a large folded chart which he spread out over the top of his desk.