“Of course. You adapted Donahue’s use of family pedigrees to determine gene transmission between generations.” Chris nodded. “Good call. How far along are you with sequencing? Have you located the blood-rage gene?”
Matthew stared at him without replying.
“Well?” Chris demanded.
“I had a teacher like you once,” Matthew said coldly. “He drove me insane.”
“And I have students like you. They don’t last long in my lab.” Chris leaned across the table. “I take it that not every vampire on the planet has your condition. Have you determined exactly how blood rage is inherited, and why some contract it and some don’t?”
“Not entirely,” Matthew admitted. “It’s a bit more complicated with vampires, considering we have three parents.”
“You need to pick up the pace, my friend. Diana is pregnant. With twins.“ Chris looked at me pointedly. “I assume you’ve drawn up full genetic profiles for the two of you and made predictions for inheritance patterns among your offspring, including but not limited to blood rage?”
“I’ve been in the sixteenth century for the best part of a year.” Matthew really disliked being questioned. “I lacked the opportunity.”
“High time we started, then,” Chris remarked blandly.
“Matthew was working on something.” I looked to Matthew for confirmation. “Remember? I found that paper covered with X’s and O’s.”
“X’s and O’s? Lord God Almighty.” This seemed to confirm Chris’s worst fears. “You tell me you have three parents, but you remain married to a Mendelian inheritance model. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re as old as dirt and knew Darwin.”
“I met Mendel once, too,” Matthew said crisply, sounding like an irritated professor himself.
“Besides, blood rage may be a Mendelian trait. We can’t rule that out.”
“Highly unlikely,” Chris said. “And not just because of this three-parent problem—which I’ll have to consider in more detail. It must create havoc in the data.”
“Explain.” Matthew tented his fingers in front of his face.
“I have to give an overview of non-Mendelian inheritance to a fellow of All Souls?” Chris’s eyebrows rose. “Somebody needs to look at the appointment policies at Oxford University.”
“Do you understand a word they’re saying?” Sarah whispered.
“One in three,” I said apologetically.
“I mean gene conversion. Infectious heredity. Genomic imprinting. Mosaicism.” Chris ticked them off on his finger. “Ring any bells, Professor Clairmont, or would you like me to continue with the lecture I give to my undergraduates?”
“Isn’t mosaicism a form of chimerism?” It was the only word I’d recognized.
Chris nodded at me approvingly.
“I’m a chimera—if that helps.”
“Diana,” Matthew growled.
“Chris is my best friend, Matthew,” I said. “And if he’s going to help you determine how blood rage effects vampire-witch reproduction—not to mention find a cure for the disease—he needs to know everything. That includes my genetic test results, by the way.”
“That information can be deadly in the wrong hands,” Matthew said.
“Matthew is right,” Chris agreed.
“I’m so glad you think so.” Matthew’s words dripped acid.
“Don’t patronize me, Clairmont. I know the dangers of human-subject research. I’m a black man from Alabama and grew up in the shadow of Tuskegee.” Chris turned to me. “Don’t hand over your genetic information to anybody outside this room—even if they’re wearing a white coat. Especially if they’re wearing a white coat, come to think of it.”