Replica Read Online Free

indeed work, in the right hands. And therein lay the key; the right hands. Mucking up the works were the charlatans out to make a quick buck. Many had substances they claimed to be legitimate, but were usually acquired in the offal at the local butcher shop. Still others had the real thing but mishandled it, rendering it useless.
    Enter Dr. Gregory Carlson, a biologist with an obsession about the Tasmanian tiger. In 1954, long after the remaining Thylacine supply dried up, Carlson led an expedition to island of Tasmania, a thousand kilometers south of Melbourne, Australia. Carlson was convinced there were still Thylacine tigers living on the dense, lush island. He planned to capture one, bring it back to the United States, and resurrect the supposedly extinct animal. However, after two months of giant mosquitoes, poisonous snakes and spiders, Carlson returned home, having never sighted the legendary beast. Disgraced and called a fool by his colleagues, Carlson never let go of his dream. In his later years, he reluctantly relented that there were no more Thylacines in Tasmania or anywhere else. However, with the advent of genetic engineering, his impossible dream was theoretically now possible. There was a fetal Tasmanian tiger specimen in the Australian Museum of Natural History. It would be a simple matter of capturing some DNA from the intact organs and cloning it using a close marsupial relative, the Tasmanian devil.
    Peter could see, even if his peers couldn't, that Grandpa Carlson was way ahead of his time; genetic engineering was in its infancy at the time of his brainstorm. When he knew his days were numbered, he called his young grandson to his bedside and confided in him: "If you do one thing in your whole life, Peter, do this. Take my records and study them. This holds the answer that can save thousands of lives. Finish what I cannot."
    Now, as Peter Carlson pulled himself back from that long-forgotten time, he knew his grandfather was right. And so Peter had spent nearly his whole life researching mammal genetics with the hope of someday resurrecting a Thylacine, then extracting stem cells and synthesizing them to make a true cure-all formula.
    Eventually, he'd read about another scientist in Australia pursuing the same quest. The article in National Geographic was about Michael Whiting's work with the specimen at The Natural History Museum in Sydney. It didn't surprise Peter that someone else had pursued it. Naturally intrigued, he delved deeper into the story and soon learned more than he'd ever expected about recovering DNA from extinct species. Finally, there was a chance.
    Peter believed the key lie in his grandfather's research. He had written to the museum in Sydney, but the law firm representing it had put him in touch with a curator, who told him there was no such project at the museum. A year later, Peter discovered the true fate of the project, in a science journal. Dr. Whiting had indeed attempted to resurrect the Thylacine from a pup preserved in alcohol. However, midway through the project, they simply ran out of money.
    Peter was not surprised, for that had been his experience as well. Despite his faith in his grandfather's conclusions, it was just too expensive. The equipment alone would run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. All his applications for grants had been turned down, and he got no further with private donors.
    Throughout the ages, the debate has raged about whether there actually is such a thing as fate. Peter Carlson would argue strongly in favor. For just when Carlson was about scrap everything, someone stepped into the picture.
    Someone with all the money in the world, and one dying son.

Five
----
    T HE A USTRALIAN M USEUM OF N ATURAL History in Sydney, Australia is the largest museum on the continent. Within its walls are some of the most extraordinary exhibits in the world, rivaling even the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C. Even though Peter Carlson had been here on