Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Espionage, #Thriller, #Detective and mystery stories, #Espionage, #Onbekend, #Medical, #Medical novels, #New York (N.Y.), #Forensic pathologists, #Equatorial Guinea, #Forensic pathologists - Fiction, #Robin - Prose & Criticism, #Equatorial Guinea - Fiction, #Cook, #New York (N.Y.) - Fiction
Chromosome 6 (7 page)
communication. He was a relatively tall man, a good three or four inches over Kevin's five foot ten. His
hair was a shocking white which contrasted dramatically with his almost black eyebrows and eyelashes. The sharply demarcated eyebrows combined with a habit of wrinkling his forehead gave him a perpetually surprised look.
Kevin watched for a moment. Dr. Edwards's obvious rapport with the animals had been something Kevin had appreciated from their first meeting. Kevin sensed it was an intuitive talent and not something learned, and it always impressed him.
"Excuse me," Kevin said finally.
Dr. Edwards jumped as if he'd been frightened. Even the bonobo shrieked and fled to the back of the cage.
"I'm terribly sorry," Kevin said.
Dr. Edwards smiled and put a hand to his chest. "No need to be sorry. I was just so intent I didn't hear you approach."
"I certainly didn't mean to frighten you, Dr. Edwards," Kevin began, "but I..." "Kevin, please! If I've told you once, I've told you a dozen times: my name is Bertram. I mean, we've known each other for five years. Don't you think first names are more appropriate?" "Of course," Kevin said.
"It's serendipitous you should come," Bertram said. "Meet our two newest breeding females." Bertram gestured toward the two apes who'd inched away from the back wall. Kevin's arrival had frightened them, but they were now curious.
Kevin gazed in at the dramatically anthropomorphic faces of the two primates. Bonobo's faces were less prognathous than their cousins, the chimpanzees, and hence considerably more human. Kevin always found looking into bonobos' eyes disconcerting. "Healthy-appearing animals," Kevin commented, not knowing how else to respond. "They were just trucked in from Zaire this morning," Bertram said. "It's about a thousand miles as the crow flies. But by the circuitous route they had to take to get across the borders of the Congo and Gabon, they probably traveled three times that." "That's the equivalent of driving across the U.S.," Kevin said. "In terms of distance," Bertram agreed. "But here they probably didn't see more than short stretches of pavement. It's an arduous trip no matter how you look at it." "They look like they are in good shape," Kevin said. He wondered how he'd appear if he'd made the journey jammed into wooden boxes and hidden in the back of a truck. "By this time I've got the drivers pretty well trained," Bertram said. "They treat 'em better than they treat their own wives. They know if the apes die, they don't get paid. It's a pretty good incentive."
hair was a shocking white which contrasted dramatically with his almost black eyebrows and eyelashes. The sharply demarcated eyebrows combined with a habit of wrinkling his forehead gave him a perpetually surprised look.
Kevin watched for a moment. Dr. Edwards's obvious rapport with the animals had been something Kevin had appreciated from their first meeting. Kevin sensed it was an intuitive talent and not something learned, and it always impressed him.
"Excuse me," Kevin said finally.
Dr. Edwards jumped as if he'd been frightened. Even the bonobo shrieked and fled to the back of the cage.
"I'm terribly sorry," Kevin said.
Dr. Edwards smiled and put a hand to his chest. "No need to be sorry. I was just so intent I didn't hear you approach."
"I certainly didn't mean to frighten you, Dr. Edwards," Kevin began, "but I..." "Kevin, please! If I've told you once, I've told you a dozen times: my name is Bertram. I mean, we've known each other for five years. Don't you think first names are more appropriate?" "Of course," Kevin said.
"It's serendipitous you should come," Bertram said. "Meet our two newest breeding females." Bertram gestured toward the two apes who'd inched away from the back wall. Kevin's arrival had frightened them, but they were now curious.
Kevin gazed in at the dramatically anthropomorphic faces of the two primates. Bonobo's faces were less prognathous than their cousins, the chimpanzees, and hence considerably more human. Kevin always found looking into bonobos' eyes disconcerting. "Healthy-appearing animals," Kevin commented, not knowing how else to respond. "They were just trucked in from Zaire this morning," Bertram said. "It's about a thousand miles as the crow flies. But by the circuitous route they had to take to get across the borders of the Congo and Gabon, they probably traveled three times that." "That's the equivalent of driving across the U.S.," Kevin said. "In terms of distance," Bertram agreed. "But here they probably didn't see more than short stretches of pavement. It's an arduous trip no matter how you look at it." "They look like they are in good shape," Kevin said. He wondered how he'd appear if he'd made the journey jammed into wooden boxes and hidden in the back of a truck. "By this time I've got the drivers pretty well trained," Bertram said. "They treat 'em better than they treat their own wives. They know if the apes die, they don't get paid. It's a pretty good incentive."
"With our demand going up they'll be put to good use," Kevin said.
"You'd better believe it," Bertram said. "These two are already spoken for, as you know. If they pass all the tests, which I'm certain they will, we'll be over to your lab in the next couple of days. I want to watch again. I think you are a genius. And Melanie... Well, I've never seen such hand-eye coordination, even if you include an eye surgeon I used to know back in the States." Kevin blushed at the reference to himself. "Melanie is quite talented," he said to deflect the conversation. Melanie Becket was a reproductive technologist. GenSys had recruited her mainly for Kevin's project. "She's good," Bertram said. "But the few of us lucky enough to be associated with your project know that you are the hero."
Bertram looked up and down the space between the wall of the corridor and the cages to make sure that none of the coverall-clad workers were in earshot. "You know, when I signed on to come over here I thought my wife and I would do well," Bertram said. "Moneywise I thought it would be as lucrative as going to Saudi Arabia. But we're doing better than I'd ever dreamed. Through your project and the stock options that come along with it, we're going to get rich. Just yesterday I heard from Melanie that we have two more clients from New York City. That will put us over one hundred."
"I hadn't heard about the two additional clients," Kevin said. "No? Well it's true," Bertram said. "Melanie told me last night when I bumped into her at the rec center. She said she spoke with Raymond Lyons. I'm glad she informed me so I could send the drivers back to Zaire for another shipment. All I can say is that I hope our pygmy colleagues in Lomako can keep up their end of the bargain."
Kevin looked back into the cage at the two females. They returned his stare with pleading expressions that melted Kevin's heart. He wished he could tell them that they had nothing to fear. All that would happen to them was that they would become pregnant within the month. During their pregnancies they'd be kept indoors and would be treated to special, nutritious diets. After their babies were born, they'd be put in the enormous bonobo outdoor enclosure to rear the infants. When the youngsters reached age three the cycle would be repeated.
"They sure are human-looking," Bertram said, interrupting Kevin's musing. "Sometimes you can't help but wonder what they are thinking."
"Or worry what their offspring are capable of thinking," Kevin said. Bertram glanced at Kevin. His black eyebrows arched more than usual. "I don't follow," he said. "Listen, Bertram," Kevin said. "I came over here specifically to talk to you about the project." "How marvelously convenient," Bertram said. "I was going to call you today and have you come over to see the progress we've made. And here you are. Come on!" Bertram pulled open the nearest door to the corridor, motioned for Kevin to follow, and set out with long strides. Kevin had to hurry to catch up.
"You'd better believe it," Bertram said. "These two are already spoken for, as you know. If they pass all the tests, which I'm certain they will, we'll be over to your lab in the next couple of days. I want to watch again. I think you are a genius. And Melanie... Well, I've never seen such hand-eye coordination, even if you include an eye surgeon I used to know back in the States." Kevin blushed at the reference to himself. "Melanie is quite talented," he said to deflect the conversation. Melanie Becket was a reproductive technologist. GenSys had recruited her mainly for Kevin's project. "She's good," Bertram said. "But the few of us lucky enough to be associated with your project know that you are the hero."
Bertram looked up and down the space between the wall of the corridor and the cages to make sure that none of the coverall-clad workers were in earshot. "You know, when I signed on to come over here I thought my wife and I would do well," Bertram said. "Moneywise I thought it would be as lucrative as going to Saudi Arabia. But we're doing better than I'd ever dreamed. Through your project and the stock options that come along with it, we're going to get rich. Just yesterday I heard from Melanie that we have two more clients from New York City. That will put us over one hundred."
"I hadn't heard about the two additional clients," Kevin said. "No? Well it's true," Bertram said. "Melanie told me last night when I bumped into her at the rec center. She said she spoke with Raymond Lyons. I'm glad she informed me so I could send the drivers back to Zaire for another shipment. All I can say is that I hope our pygmy colleagues in Lomako can keep up their end of the bargain."
Kevin looked back into the cage at the two females. They returned his stare with pleading expressions that melted Kevin's heart. He wished he could tell them that they had nothing to fear. All that would happen to them was that they would become pregnant within the month. During their pregnancies they'd be kept indoors and would be treated to special, nutritious diets. After their babies were born, they'd be put in the enormous bonobo outdoor enclosure to rear the infants. When the youngsters reached age three the cycle would be repeated.
"They sure are human-looking," Bertram said, interrupting Kevin's musing. "Sometimes you can't help but wonder what they are thinking."
"Or worry what their offspring are capable of thinking," Kevin said. Bertram glanced at Kevin. His black eyebrows arched more than usual. "I don't follow," he said. "Listen, Bertram," Kevin said. "I came over here specifically to talk to you about the project." "How marvelously convenient," Bertram said. "I was going to call you today and have you come over to see the progress we've made. And here you are. Come on!" Bertram pulled open the nearest door to the corridor, motioned for Kevin to follow, and set out with long strides. Kevin had to hurry to catch up.
"Progress?" Kevin questioned. Although he admired Bertram, the man's tendency toward manic
behavior was disconcerting. Under the best of circumstances Kevin would have had trouble discussing what was on his mind. Just broaching the issue was difficult, and Bertram was not helping. In fact, he was making it impossible.
"You bet'cha progress!" Bertram said enthusiastically. "We solved the technical problems with the grid on the island. It's on line now as you'll see. We can locate any individual animal with the push of a button. It's just in time, I might add. With twelve square miles and almost a hundred individuals, it was fast becoming impossible with the handheld trackers. Part of the problem is that we didn't anticipate the creatures would split into two separate sociological groups. We were counting on their being one big happy family."
"Bertram," Kevin said between breaths, marshaling his courage. "I wanted to talk to you because I've been anxious..."
"It's no wonder," Bertram said as Kevin paused. "I'd be anxious, too, if I put in the hours that you put in without any form of relaxation or release. Hell, sometimes I see the light in your lab as late as midnight when the wife and I come out of the rec center after a movie. We've even commented on it. We've invited you to dinner at our house on several occasions to draw you out a little. How come you never come?"
Kevin groaned inwardly. This was not the conversation he wanted to get into. "All right, you don't have to answer," Bertram said. "I don't want to add to your anxiety. We'd enjoy having you over, so if you change your mind, give us a call. But what about the gym or the rec center or even the pool? I've never seen you in any of those places. Being stuck here in this hothouse part of Africa is bad enough, but making yourself a prisoner of your lab or house just makes it worse." "I'm sure you are right," Kevin said. "But..." "Of course I'm right," Bertram said. "But there is another side to this that I should warn you about. People are talking."
"What do you mean?" Kevin asked. "Talking about what?" "People are saying that you're aloof because you think you are superior," Bertram said. "You know, the academician with all his fancy degrees from Harvard and MIT. It's easy for people to misinterpret your behavior, especially if they are envious." "Why would anybody be envious of me?" Kevin asked. He was shocked. "Very easy," Bertram said. "You obviously get special treatment from the home office. You get a new car every two years, and your quarters are as good as Siegfried Spallek's, the manager for the entire operation. That's bound to raise some eyebrows, particularly from people like Cameron McIvers who was stupid enough to bring his whole damn family out here. Plus you got that NMR machine. The hospital administrator and I have been lobbying for an MRI since day one." "I tried to talk them out of giving me the house," Kevin said. "I said it was too big." "Hey, you don't have to defend your perks to me," Bertram said. "I understand because I'm privy to your project. But very few other people are, and some of them aren't happy. Even Spallek doesn't quite
behavior was disconcerting. Under the best of circumstances Kevin would have had trouble discussing what was on his mind. Just broaching the issue was difficult, and Bertram was not helping. In fact, he was making it impossible.
"You bet'cha progress!" Bertram said enthusiastically. "We solved the technical problems with the grid on the island. It's on line now as you'll see. We can locate any individual animal with the push of a button. It's just in time, I might add. With twelve square miles and almost a hundred individuals, it was fast becoming impossible with the handheld trackers. Part of the problem is that we didn't anticipate the creatures would split into two separate sociological groups. We were counting on their being one big happy family."
"Bertram," Kevin said between breaths, marshaling his courage. "I wanted to talk to you because I've been anxious..."
"It's no wonder," Bertram said as Kevin paused. "I'd be anxious, too, if I put in the hours that you put in without any form of relaxation or release. Hell, sometimes I see the light in your lab as late as midnight when the wife and I come out of the rec center after a movie. We've even commented on it. We've invited you to dinner at our house on several occasions to draw you out a little. How come you never come?"
Kevin groaned inwardly. This was not the conversation he wanted to get into. "All right, you don't have to answer," Bertram said. "I don't want to add to your anxiety. We'd enjoy having you over, so if you change your mind, give us a call. But what about the gym or the rec center or even the pool? I've never seen you in any of those places. Being stuck here in this hothouse part of Africa is bad enough, but making yourself a prisoner of your lab or house just makes it worse." "I'm sure you are right," Kevin said. "But..." "Of course I'm right," Bertram said. "But there is another side to this that I should warn you about. People are talking."
"What do you mean?" Kevin asked. "Talking about what?" "People are saying that you're aloof because you think you are superior," Bertram said. "You know, the academician with all his fancy degrees from Harvard and MIT. It's easy for people to misinterpret your behavior, especially if they are envious." "Why would anybody be envious of me?" Kevin asked. He was shocked. "Very easy," Bertram said. "You obviously get special treatment from the home office. You get a new car every two years, and your quarters are as good as Siegfried Spallek's, the manager for the entire operation. That's bound to raise some eyebrows, particularly from people like Cameron McIvers who was stupid enough to bring his whole damn family out here. Plus you got that NMR machine. The hospital administrator and I have been lobbying for an MRI since day one." "I tried to talk them out of giving me the house," Kevin said. "I said it was too big." "Hey, you don't have to defend your perks to me," Bertram said. "I understand because I'm privy to your project. But very few other people are, and some of them aren't happy. Even Spallek doesn't quite
understand although he definitely likes participating in the bonus your project has brought those of us who
are lucky enough to be associated."
Before Kevin could respond, Bertram was stopped for a series of corridor consultations. He and Bertram had been traversing the veterinary hospital. Kevin used the interruption to ponder Bertram's comments. Kevin had always thought of himself as being rather invisible. The idea that he'd engendered animosities was hard to comprehend.
"Sorry," Bertram offered after the final consult. He pushed through the last of the double doors. Kevin followed.
Passing his secretary, Martha, he picked up a small stack of phone messages. He leafed through them as he waved Kevin into his inner office. He closed his door. "You're going to love this," Bertram said, tossing the messages aside. He sat down in front of his computer and showed Kevin how to bring up a graphic of Isla Francesca. It was divided into a grid. "Now give me the number of whatever creature you want to locate." "Mine," Kevin said. "Number one."
"Coming up," Bertram said. He entered the information and clicked. Suddenly a red blinking light appeared on the map of the island. It was north of the limestone escarpment but south of the stream that had been humorously dubbed Rio Diviso. The stream bisected the six-by-two-mile island lengthwise, flowing east to west. In the center of the island was a pond they'd called Lago Hippo for obvious reasons.
"Pretty slick, huh?" Bertram said proudly. Kevin was captivated. It wasn't so much by the technology, although that interested him. It was more because the red light was blinking exactly where he would have imagined the smoke to have been coming from.
Bertram got up and pulled open a file drawer. It was filled with small handheld electronic devices that looked like miniature notepads with small LCD screens. An extendable antenna protruded from each. "These work in a similar fashion," Bertram said. He handed one to Kevin. "We call them locators. Of course, they are portable and can be taken into the field. It makes retrieval a snap compared to the struggles we had initially."
Kevin played with the keyboard. With Bertram's help, he soon had the island graphic with the red blinking light displayed. Bertram showed how to go from successive maps with smaller and smaller scales until the entire screen represented a square fifty feet by fifty feet. "Once you are that close, you use this," Bertram said. He handed Kevin an instrument that looked like a flashlight with a keypad. "On this you type in the same information. What it does is function as a directional beacon. It pings louder the closer it comes to pointing at the animal you're looking for. When there is a clear visual sighting, it emits a continuous sound. Then all you have to do is use the dart gun." "How does this tracking system operate?" Kevin asked. Having been immersed in the biomolecular aspects of the project, he'd not paid any attention to the logistics. He'd toured the island five years previously at the commencement of the venture, but that had been it. He'd never inquired about the nuts
are lucky enough to be associated."
Before Kevin could respond, Bertram was stopped for a series of corridor consultations. He and Bertram had been traversing the veterinary hospital. Kevin used the interruption to ponder Bertram's comments. Kevin had always thought of himself as being rather invisible. The idea that he'd engendered animosities was hard to comprehend.
"Sorry," Bertram offered after the final consult. He pushed through the last of the double doors. Kevin followed.
Passing his secretary, Martha, he picked up a small stack of phone messages. He leafed through them as he waved Kevin into his inner office. He closed his door. "You're going to love this," Bertram said, tossing the messages aside. He sat down in front of his computer and showed Kevin how to bring up a graphic of Isla Francesca. It was divided into a grid. "Now give me the number of whatever creature you want to locate." "Mine," Kevin said. "Number one."
"Coming up," Bertram said. He entered the information and clicked. Suddenly a red blinking light appeared on the map of the island. It was north of the limestone escarpment but south of the stream that had been humorously dubbed Rio Diviso. The stream bisected the six-by-two-mile island lengthwise, flowing east to west. In the center of the island was a pond they'd called Lago Hippo for obvious reasons.
"Pretty slick, huh?" Bertram said proudly. Kevin was captivated. It wasn't so much by the technology, although that interested him. It was more because the red light was blinking exactly where he would have imagined the smoke to have been coming from.
Bertram got up and pulled open a file drawer. It was filled with small handheld electronic devices that looked like miniature notepads with small LCD screens. An extendable antenna protruded from each. "These work in a similar fashion," Bertram said. He handed one to Kevin. "We call them locators. Of course, they are portable and can be taken into the field. It makes retrieval a snap compared to the struggles we had initially."
Kevin played with the keyboard. With Bertram's help, he soon had the island graphic with the red blinking light displayed. Bertram showed how to go from successive maps with smaller and smaller scales until the entire screen represented a square fifty feet by fifty feet. "Once you are that close, you use this," Bertram said. He handed Kevin an instrument that looked like a flashlight with a keypad. "On this you type in the same information. What it does is function as a directional beacon. It pings louder the closer it comes to pointing at the animal you're looking for. When there is a clear visual sighting, it emits a continuous sound. Then all you have to do is use the dart gun." "How does this tracking system operate?" Kevin asked. Having been immersed in the biomolecular aspects of the project, he'd not paid any attention to the logistics. He'd toured the island five years previously at the commencement of the venture, but that had been it. He'd never inquired about the nuts
and bolts of everyday operation.
"It's a satellite system," Bertram said. "I don't pretend to know the details. Of course each animal has a small microchip with a long-lasting nickel cadmium battery embedded just under the derma. The afferent signal from the microchip is minuscule, but it's picked up by the grid, magnified, and transmitted by microwave."
Kevin started to give the devices back to Bertram, but Bertram waved them away. "Keep them," he said. "We've got plenty of others."
"But I don't need them," Kevin protested. "Come on, Kevin," Bertram chided playfully while thumping Kevin on the back. The blow was hard enough to knock Kevin forward. "Loosen up! You're much too serious." Bertram sat at his desk, picked up his phone messages, and absently began to arrange them in order of importance. Kevin glanced at the electronic devices in his hands and wondered what he'd do with them. They were obviously costly instruments.
"What was it about your project that you wanted to discuss with me?" Bertram asked. He looked up from his phone messages. "People are always complaining I don't allow them to get a word in edgewise. What's on your mind?"
"I'm concerned," Kevin stammered.
"About what?" Bertram asked. "Things couldn't be going any better." "I've seen the smoke again," Kevin managed. "What? You mean like that wisp of smoke you mentioned to me last week?" Bertram asked. "Exactly," Kevin said. "And from the same spot on the island." "Ah, it's nothing," Bertram declared, with a wave of his hand. "We've been having electrical storms just about every other night. Lightning starts fires; everybody knows that." "As wet as everything is?" Kevin said. "I thought lightning starts fires in savannas during the dry season, not in dank, equatorial rain forests."
"Lightning can start a fire anyplace," Bertram said. "Think of the heat it generates. Remember, thunder is nothing but expansion of air from the heat. It's unbelievable." "Well, maybe," Kevin said. He was unconvinced. "But even if it were to start a fire, would it last?" "You're like a dog with a bone," Bertram commented. "Have you mentioned this crazy idea to anybody else?"
"Only to Raymond Lyons," Kevin said. "He called me yesterday about another problem." "And what was his response?" Bertram asked.
"It's a satellite system," Bertram said. "I don't pretend to know the details. Of course each animal has a small microchip with a long-lasting nickel cadmium battery embedded just under the derma. The afferent signal from the microchip is minuscule, but it's picked up by the grid, magnified, and transmitted by microwave."
Kevin started to give the devices back to Bertram, but Bertram waved them away. "Keep them," he said. "We've got plenty of others."
"But I don't need them," Kevin protested. "Come on, Kevin," Bertram chided playfully while thumping Kevin on the back. The blow was hard enough to knock Kevin forward. "Loosen up! You're much too serious." Bertram sat at his desk, picked up his phone messages, and absently began to arrange them in order of importance. Kevin glanced at the electronic devices in his hands and wondered what he'd do with them. They were obviously costly instruments.
"What was it about your project that you wanted to discuss with me?" Bertram asked. He looked up from his phone messages. "People are always complaining I don't allow them to get a word in edgewise. What's on your mind?"
"I'm concerned," Kevin stammered.
"About what?" Bertram asked. "Things couldn't be going any better." "I've seen the smoke again," Kevin managed. "What? You mean like that wisp of smoke you mentioned to me last week?" Bertram asked. "Exactly," Kevin said. "And from the same spot on the island." "Ah, it's nothing," Bertram declared, with a wave of his hand. "We've been having electrical storms just about every other night. Lightning starts fires; everybody knows that." "As wet as everything is?" Kevin said. "I thought lightning starts fires in savannas during the dry season, not in dank, equatorial rain forests."
"Lightning can start a fire anyplace," Bertram said. "Think of the heat it generates. Remember, thunder is nothing but expansion of air from the heat. It's unbelievable." "Well, maybe," Kevin said. He was unconvinced. "But even if it were to start a fire, would it last?" "You're like a dog with a bone," Bertram commented. "Have you mentioned this crazy idea to anybody else?"
"Only to Raymond Lyons," Kevin said. "He called me yesterday about another problem." "And what was his response?" Bertram asked.
"He told me not to let my imagination run wild," Kevin said.
"I'd say that was good advice," Bertram said. "I second the motion." "I don't know," Kevin said. "Maybe we should go out there and check." "No!" Bertram snapped. For a fleeting moment his mouth formed a hard line and his blue eyes blazed. Then his face relaxed. "I don't want to go to the island except for a retrieval. That was the original plan and by golly we're sticking with it. As well as everything is going, I don't want to take any chances. The animals are to remain isolated and undisturbed. The only person who goes there is the pygmy, Alphonse Kimba, and he goes only to pull supplementary food across to the island." "Maybe I could go by myself," Kevin suggested. "It wouldn't take me long, and then I can stop worrying."
"Absolutely not!" Bertram said emphatically. "I'm in charge of this part of the project, and I forbid you or anyone else to go on the island."
"I don't see that it would make that much difference," Kevin said. "I wouldn't bother the animals." "No!" Bertram said. "There are to be no exceptions. We want these to be wild animals. That means minimal contact. Besides, with as small as this enclave is, visits will provoke talk, and we don't want that. And on top of that it could be dangerous." "Dangerous?" Kevin questioned. "I'd stay away from the hippos and the crocs. The bonobos certainly aren't dangerous."
"One of the pygmy bearers was killed on the last retrieval," Bertram said. "We've kept that very quiet for obvious reasons."
"How was he killed?" Kevin asked.
"By a rock," Bertram said. "One of the bonobos threw a rock." "Isn't that unusual?" Kevin asked.
Bertram shrugged. "Chimps are known to throw sticks on occasion when they are stressed or scared. No, I don't think it's unusual. It was probably just a reflex gesture. The rock was there so he threw it." "But it's also aggressive," Kevin said. "That's unusual for a bonobo, especially one of ours." "All apes will defend their group when attacked," Bertram said. "But why should they have felt they were being attacked?" Kevin asked. "That was the fourth retrieval," Bertram said. He shrugged again. "Maybe they're learning what to expect. But whatever the reason, we don't want anyone going to the island. Spallek and I have discussed this, and he's in full agreement."
Bertram got up from the desk and draped an arm over Kevin's shoulders. Kevin tried to ease himself away, but Bertram held on. "Come on, Kevin! Relax! This kind of wild flight of imagination of yours is
"I'd say that was good advice," Bertram said. "I second the motion." "I don't know," Kevin said. "Maybe we should go out there and check." "No!" Bertram snapped. For a fleeting moment his mouth formed a hard line and his blue eyes blazed. Then his face relaxed. "I don't want to go to the island except for a retrieval. That was the original plan and by golly we're sticking with it. As well as everything is going, I don't want to take any chances. The animals are to remain isolated and undisturbed. The only person who goes there is the pygmy, Alphonse Kimba, and he goes only to pull supplementary food across to the island." "Maybe I could go by myself," Kevin suggested. "It wouldn't take me long, and then I can stop worrying."
"Absolutely not!" Bertram said emphatically. "I'm in charge of this part of the project, and I forbid you or anyone else to go on the island."
"I don't see that it would make that much difference," Kevin said. "I wouldn't bother the animals." "No!" Bertram said. "There are to be no exceptions. We want these to be wild animals. That means minimal contact. Besides, with as small as this enclave is, visits will provoke talk, and we don't want that. And on top of that it could be dangerous." "Dangerous?" Kevin questioned. "I'd stay away from the hippos and the crocs. The bonobos certainly aren't dangerous."
"One of the pygmy bearers was killed on the last retrieval," Bertram said. "We've kept that very quiet for obvious reasons."
"How was he killed?" Kevin asked.
"By a rock," Bertram said. "One of the bonobos threw a rock." "Isn't that unusual?" Kevin asked.
Bertram shrugged. "Chimps are known to throw sticks on occasion when they are stressed or scared. No, I don't think it's unusual. It was probably just a reflex gesture. The rock was there so he threw it." "But it's also aggressive," Kevin said. "That's unusual for a bonobo, especially one of ours." "All apes will defend their group when attacked," Bertram said. "But why should they have felt they were being attacked?" Kevin asked. "That was the fourth retrieval," Bertram said. He shrugged again. "Maybe they're learning what to expect. But whatever the reason, we don't want anyone going to the island. Spallek and I have discussed this, and he's in full agreement."
Bertram got up from the desk and draped an arm over Kevin's shoulders. Kevin tried to ease himself away, but Bertram held on. "Come on, Kevin! Relax! This kind of wild flight of imagination of yours is
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