Kevin’s feelings had nothing to do with seeing more smoke. He hadn’t, but as dawn broke, he’d also consciously avoided looking out the window, much less in the direction of the island.
Kevin realized he couldn’t go on like this. He decided that the most rational course of action would be to find out if his fears were justified. The best way to do it, he surmised, was to approach someone close to the situation who might be able to shed some light on Kevin’s area of concern. But Kevin didn’t feel comfortable talking with many people in the Zone. He’d never been very social, especially in Cogo, where he was the sole academician. But there was one working in the Zone with whom he felt slightly more comfortable, mainly because he admired his work: Bertram Edwards, the chief veterinarian.
Impulsively Kevin removed his lab coat, draped it over his chair, and headed out of his office. Descending to the first floor, he exited into the steamy heat of the parking area north of the hospital. The morning weather was clear, with white, puffy cumuli clouds overhead. There were some dark rain clouds looming, but they were out over the ocean in a clump along the western horizon; if they brought rain, it wouldn’t be before the afternoon.
Kevin climbed into his Toyota four-wheel drive and turned right out of the hospital parking lot. Traversing the north side of the town square, he passed the old Catholic church. GenSys had renovated the building to function as the recreational center. On Friday and Saturday nights they showed movies. Monday nights they had bingo. In the basement was a commissary serving American hamburgers.
Bertram Edwards’s office was at the veterinary center that was part of the far larger animal unit. The entire complex was bigger than Cogo itself. It was situated north of the town in a dense equatorial rain forest and separated from the town by a stretch of virgin jungle.
Kevin’s route took him east as far as the motor-pool facility, where he turned north. The traffic, which was considerable for such a remote spot, reflected the difficult logistics of running an operation the size of the Zone. Everything from toilet paper to centrifuge tubes had to be imported, which necessitated moving a lot of goods. Most supplies came by truck from Bata, where there was a crude deepwater port and an airport capable of handling large jet aircraft. The Estuario del Muni with access to Libreville, Gabon, was only served by motorized canoes.
At the edge of town the granite cobblestone street gave way to newly laid asphalt. Kevin let out a sigh of relief. The sound and the vibration that came up the steering column from the cobblestones was intense.
After fifteen minutes of driving through a canyon of dark green vegetation, Kevin could see the first buildings of the state-of-the-art animal complex. They were constructed of prestressed concrete and cinder block that was stuccoed and painted white. The design had a Spanish flare to complement the Colonial architecture of the town.
The enormous main building looked more like an airport terminal than a primate housing facility. Its front facade was three stories tall and perhaps five hundred feet long. From the back of the structure projected multiple wings that literally disappeared into the canopy of vegetation. Several smaller buildings faced the main one. Kevin wasn’t sure of their purpose except for two buildings in the center. One housed the complex’s contingent of Equatoguinean soldiers. Just like their comrades in the town square, these soldiers were aimlessly sprawled about with their rifles, cigarettes, and Cameroonean beer. The other building was the headquarters of a group that Kevin found even more disturbing than the teenage soldiers. These were Moroccan mercenaries who were part of the Equatoguinean presidential guard. The local president didn’t trust his own army.
These foreign special-forces commandos dressed in inappropriate and ill-fitting dark suits and ties, with obvious bulges from their shoulder holsters. Every one of them had dark skin, piercing eyes, and a heavy mustache. Unlike the soldiers they were rarely seen, but their presence was felt like a sinister evil force.
The sheer size of the GenSys animal center was a tribute to its success. Recognizing the difficulties attached to primate biomedical research, GenSys had sited their facility in Equatorial Africa where the animals were indigenous. This move cleverly sidestepped the industrialized West’s inconvenient web of import/export restrictions associated with primates, as well as the disruptive influence of animal-rights zealots. As an added incentive, the foreign exchange–starved local government and its venal leaders were inordinately receptive to all a company like GenSys had to offer. Obstructive laws were conveniently overlooked or abolished. The legislature was so accommodating that it even passed a law making interference with GenSys a capital offense.
The operation proved to be extraordinarily successful so quickly that GenSys expanded it to serve as a convenient spot for other biotechnology companies, especially pharmaceutical giants, to out-source their primate testing. The growth shocked the GenSys economic forecasters. From every point of view, the Zone was an impressive financial success.
Kevin parked next to another four-wheel-drive vehicle. He knew it was Dr. Edwards’s from the bumper sticker that said: Man is an Ape. He pushed through the double doors with “Veterinary Center” stenciled on the glass. Dr. Edwards’s office and examining rooms were just inside the door.
Martha Blummer greeted him. “Dr. Edwards is in the chimpanzee wing,” she said. Martha was the veterinary secretary. Her husband was one of the supervisors at the motor pool.
Kevin set off for the chimpanzee wing. It was one of the few areas in the building he was at all acquainted with. He went through a second pair of double doors and walked the length of the central corridor of the veterinary hospital. The facility looked like a regular hospital, down to its employees who were all dressed in surgical scrubs, many with stethoscopes draped over their necks.
A few people nodded, others smiled, and some said hello to Kevin. He returned the greetings self-consciously. He didn’t know any of these people by name.
Another pair of double doors brought him into the main part of the building that housed the primates. The air had a slightly feral odor. Intermittent shrieks and howls reverberated in the corridor. Through doors with windows of wire-embedded glass, Kevin caught glimpses of large cages where monkeys were incarcerated. Outside the cages were men in coveralls and rubber boots, pulling hoses.
The chimpanzee wing was one of the ells that extended from the back of the building into the forest. It, too, was three stories tall. Kevin entered on the first floor. Immediately the sounds changed. Now there was as much hooting as shrieking.
Cracking a door off the central corridor, Kevin got the attention of one of the workers in the coveralls. He asked about Dr. Edwards and was told the vet was in the bonobo unit.
Kevin found a stairwell and climbed to the second floor. He thought it was a coincidence that Dr. Edwards happened to be in the bonobo unit just when Kevin was looking for him. It was through bonobos that Kevin and Dr. Edwards had met.
Six years ago Kevin had never heard of a bonobo. But that changed rapidly when bonobos were selected as the subjects for his GenSys project. He now knew they were exceptional creatures. They were cousins of chimpanzees but had lived in isolation in a twenty-five-thousand-square-mile patch of virginal jungle in central Zaire for one and a half million years. In contrast to chimps, bonobo society was matriarchal with less male aggression. Hence, the bonobos were able to live in larger groups. Some people called them pygmy chimpanzees but the name was a misnomer because some bonobos were actually larger than some chimpanzees, and they were a distinct species.
Kevin found Dr. Edwards in front of a relatively small acclimatization cage. He was reaching through the bars making tentative contact with an adult female bonobo.
Another female bonobo was sitting against the back wall of the cage. Her eyes were nervously darting around her new accommodations. Kevin could sense her terror.
Dr. Edwards was hooting softly in imitation of one of the many bonobo and chimpanzee sounds of communication. He was a relatively tall man, a go
od 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.”
“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.
“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 envio
us.”
“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.