abruptly. In his mounting vexation, he'd been unaware of his speed. The wet cobblestones from the
recent downpour were as slick as ice, so Bertram's car skidded several yards before coming to a complete stop.
Bertram parked in the hospital parking lot. He climbed to the third floor of the lab and pounded on Kevin's door. There was no response. Bertram tried the door. It was locked. Returning to his car, Bertram drove around the town square and parked behind the town hall. He nodded to the lazy group of soldiers lounging in broken rattan chairs in the shade of the arcade. Taking the stairs by twos, Bertram presented himself to Aurielo and said he had to speak to Siegfried. "He's with the chief of security at the moment," Aurielo said. "Let him know I'm here," Bertram said, as he began to pace the outer office. His irritation was mounting. Five minutes later, Cameron McIvers emerged from the inner office. He said hello to Bertram, but Bertram ignored him in his haste to get in to see Siegfried. "We've got a problem," Bertram said. "Melanie Becket didn't show up for a scheduled injection this afternoon, and Kevin Marshall is not in his lab." "I'm not surprised," Siegfried said calmly. He sat back and stretched with his good arm. "They were both seen leaving early this morning with the nurse. The menage-a-trois seems to be blossoming. They even had a dinner party late into the night at Kevin's house, and then the women stayed over. "Truly?" Bertram questioned. That the nerdy researcher could be involved in such a liaison seemed impossible.
"I should know," Siegfried said. "I live across the green from Kevin. Besides, I met the women earlier at the Chickee Bar. They were already tipsy and told me they were on their way to Kevin's." "Where did they go this morning?" Bertram asked. "I assume to Acalayong," Siegfried said. "They were seen leaving in a pirogue before dawn by a member of the janitorial staff."
"Then they have gone to the island by water," Bertram snapped. "They were seen going west, not east," Siegfried said. "It could have been a ruse," Bertram said. "It could have," Siegfried agreed. "And I thought of the possibility. I even discussed it with Cameron. But both of us are of the opinion that the only way to visit the island by water is to land at the staging area. The rest of the island is surrounded by a virtual wall of mangroves and marsh." Bertram's eyes rose up to stare at the huge rhino heads on the wall behind Siegfried. Their brainless carcasses reminded him of the site manager, yet Bertram had to admit in this instance he had a point. In fact, when the island was initially considered for the bonobo project its inaccessibility by water had been one of its attractions.
"And they couldn't have landed at the staging area," Siegfried continued, "because the soldiers are still
out there itching to have an excuse to use their AK-47's." Siegfried laughed. "It tickles me every time I think of their shooting out Melanie's car windows." "Maybe you're right," Bertram said grudgingly. "Of course I'm right," Siegfried said.
"But I'm still concerned," Bertram said. "And suspicious. I want to get into Kevin's office." "For what reason?" Siegfried asked.
"I was stupid enough to show him how to tap into the software we'd developed for locating the bonobos," Bertram said. "Unfortunately, he's been taking advantage of it. I know because he's accessed it on several occasions for long periods of time. I'd like to see if I can find out what he'd been up to." "I'd say that sounds quite reasonable," Siegfried said. He called out to Aurielo to see to it that Bertram had an entrance card for the lab. Then he said to Bertram: "Let me know if you find anything interesting." "Don't worry," Bertram said.
Armed with the magnetic pass card, Bertram returned to the lab and entered Kevin's space. Locking the door behind him, he first went through Kevin's desk. Finding nothing, he made a quick tour of the room. The first sign of trouble was a stack of computer paper next to the printer that Bertram recognized as printouts of the island graphic.
Bertram examined each page. He could tell that they represented varying scales. What he couldn't figure out was the meaning of all the surcharged geometric shapes. Putting the pages aside, Bertram went to Kevin's computer and began to search through his directories. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for: the source of the information on the printouts. For the next half hour, Bertram was transfixed by what he found: Kevin had devised a way to follow individual animals in real time. After Bertram played with this capability for a while, he came across Kevin's stored information documenting the animals' movement over a period of several hours. From this information, Bertram was able to reproduce the geometric shapes. "You are too clever for your own good," Bertram said out loud as he allowed the computer to run sequentially through the movements of each animal. By the time the program had run its course, Bertram had seen the problem with bonobo numbers sixty and sixty-seven. With mounting anxiety, Bertram tried to get the indicators for the two animals to move. When he couldn't, he went back to real time and displayed the two animals' current position. They'd not changed one iota.
"Good lord!" Bertram moaned. All at once, the worry about Kevin vanished and was replaced with a more pressing problem. Turning off the computer, Bertram snapped up the printed island graphics, and ran out of the lab. Outside, he passed up his car to run directly across the square to the town hall. He knew it would take less time on foot.
He raced up the stairs. As he entered the outer office, Aurielo looked up. Bertram ignored him. He burst
into Siegfried's office unannounced.
"I've got to talk with you immediately," Bertram sputtered to Siegfried. He was out of breath. Siegfried was meeting with his food-service supervisor. Both appeared stunned by Bertram's arrival. "It's an emergency," Bertram added.
The food-service supervisor stood up. "I can return later," he said and left. "This better be important," Siegfried warned. Bertram waved the computer printouts. "It's very bad news," he said. He took the chair vacated by the supervisor. "Kevin Marshall figured out a way to follow the bonobos over time." "So what?" Siegfried said.
"At least two of the bonobos don't move," Bertram said. "Number sixty and number sixty-seven. And they haven't moved for more than twenty-four hours. There's only one explanation. They're dead!" Siegfried raised his eyebrows. "Well, they're animals," he said. "Animals die. We have to expect some attrition."
"You don't understand," Bertram said with a tinge of disdain. "You made light of my concern that the animals had split into two groups. I told you that it was significant. This, unfortunately, is proof. As sure as I'm standing here, those animals are killing each other!" "You think so?" Siegfried asked with alarm. "There's no doubt in my mind," Bertram said. "I've been agonizing over why they split up into two groups. I decided it had to have been because we forgot to maintain the balance between males and females. There's no other explanation, and it means the males are fighting over the females. I'm sure of it." "Oh my god!" Siegfried exclaimed, with a shake of his head. "That's terrible news." "It's more than terrible," Bertram said. "It's intolerable. It will be the ruin of the whole program provided we don't act."
"What can we do?" Siegfried asked.
"First, we tell no one!" Bertram said. "If there is ever an order to harvest either sixty or sixty-seven, we'll deal with that particular problem then. Second, and more important, we must bring the animals in like I've been advocating. The bonobos won't be killing each other if they're in separate cages." Siegfried had to accept the white-haired veterinarian's advice. Although he'd always favored the animals being off by themselves for logistical and security reasons, its time was past. The animals could not be allowed to kill each other. In a very real way, there was no choice. "When should we retrieve them?" Siegfried asked.
"As soon as possible," Bertram said. "I can have a team of security-cleared animal handlers ready by
dawn tomorrow. We'll begin by darting the splinter group. Once we have all the animals caged, which should take no more than two or three days, we'll move them at night to a section of the animal center that I will prepare."
"I suppose I'd better recall that contingent of soldiers out by the bridge," Siegfried said. "The last thing we need is for them to shoot the animal handlers." "I didn't like having them out there in the first place," Bertram said. "I was afraid they might have shot one of the animals for sport or soup."
"When should we inform our respective bosses at GenSys?" Siegfried asked. "Not until it is done," Bertram said. "Only then will we know how many animals have been killed. Maybe we'll also have a better idea of the best ultimate disposition. My guess is we'll have to build a separate, new facility."
"For that, we'd need authorization," Siegfried said. "Obviously," Bertram said. He stood up. "All I can say is that it is a damn good thing I had the foresight to move all those cages out there."
NEW YORK CITY
Raymond felt better than he had in days. Things seemed to have gone well from the moment he'd gotten up. Just after nine he'd called Dr. Waller Anderson, and not only was the doctor going to join, he already had two clients ready to plunk down their deposits and head out to the Bahamas for the bone marrow aspirations.
Then around noon Raymond had gotten a call from Dr. Alice Norwood, whose office was on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. She'd called to say that she'd recruited three physicians with large private practices who were eager to come on board. One was in Century City, another in Brentwood, and the last was in Bel-Air. She was convinced that these doctors would soon provide a flood of clients because the market on the West Coast for the service Raymond was offering was nothing short of phenomenal. But what had pleased Raymond the most during the day was whom he didn't hear from. There were no calls from either Vinnie Dominick or Dr. Daniel Levitz. Raymond took this silence to mean that the Franconi business had finally been put to bed. At three-thirty, the door buzzer went off. Darlene answered it and with a tearful voice told Raymond that his car was waiting.
Raymond took his girlfriend in his arms and patted her on the back. "Next time maybe you can go," Raymond said consolingly.
"Really?" she asked.
"I can't guarantee it," Raymond said. "But we'll try." Raymond had no control over the GenSys flights. Darlene had been able to go on only one of the trips to Cogo. On all the other occasions, the plane had been full on one of the segments. As standard procedure, the plane flew from the States to Europe and then on to Bata. On the return trip the same general itinerary was followed, although it was always a
different European city.
After promising to call as soon as he arrived in Cogo, Raymond carried his bag downstairs. He climbed into the waiting sedan and luxuriously leaned back. "Would you like the radio on, sir?" the driver asked. "Sure, why not," Raymond said. He was already beginning to enjoy himself. The drive across town was the most difficult part of the trip. Once they were on the West Side Highway, they were able to make good time. There was a lot of traffic, but since rush hour had not begun, the traffic moved fluidly. It was the same situation on the George Washington Bridge. In less than an hour Raymond was dropped off at Teterboro Airport. The GenSys plane had not yet arrived, but Raymond was not concerned. He positioned himself in the lounge, where he had a view of the runway and ordered himself a scotch. Just as he was being served, the sleek GenSys jet swooped in low out of the clouds and touched down. It taxied over to a position directly in front of Raymond.
It was a beautiful aircraft painted white with a red stripe along its side. Its only markings were its call sign, N69SU, and a tiny American flag. Both were on the fin of the tail assembly. As if in slow motion, a forward door opened and self-contained steps extended down toward the tarmac. An impeccably dressed steward in dark-blue livery appeared in the doorway, descended the stairs and entered the general aviation building. His name was Roger Perry. Raymond remembered him well. Along with another steward named Jasper Devereau, he'd been on the plane every trip Raymond had made.
Once inside the building, Roger scanned the lounge. The moment he spotted Raymond, he walked over and greeted him with a salute.
"Is this the extent of your luggage, sir?" Roger asked as he picked up Raymond's bag. "That's it," Raymond said. "Are we leaving already? Isn't the plane going to refuel?" That had been the procedure on previous flights.
"We're all set," Roger said.
Raymond got to his feet and followed the steward out into the gray, raw March afternoon. As he approached the luxurious private jet, Raymond hoped there were people watching him. At times like this, he felt as if he were living the life that was meant for him. He even told himself that he was lucky he'd lost his medical license.
"Tell me, Roger," Raymond called out just before they reached the stairs. "Are we full on the flight to Europe?" On every flight Raymond had been on, there'd been other GenSys executives. "Only one other passenger," Roger said. He stepped to the side at the base of the stairs and gestured for Raymond to precede him.
Raymond smiled as he climbed. With only one other passenger and two stewards, the flight was going to be even more enjoyable than he'd anticipated. The troubles that he'd had over the previous few days
seemed a small price to pay for such luxury.
Just inside the plane, he was met by Jasper. Jasper took his overcoat and jacket and asked if Raymond wanted a drink before takeoff.
"I'll wait," Raymond said gallantly.
Jasper pulled aside the drape that separated the galley from the cabin. Swelling with pride, Raymond passed into the main part of the plane. He was debating which of the deeply cushioned leather chairs to take when his eyes passed over the face of the other passenger. Raymond froze. At the same time, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Hello, Dr. Lyons. Welcome aboard."
"Taylor Cabot!" Raymond croaked. "I didn't expect to see you." "I suppose not," Taylor said. "I'm surprised to see myself." He smiled and gestured toward the seat next to him.
Raymond quickly sat down. He berated himself for not taking the drink Jasper had offered. His throat had gone bone-dry.
"I'd been informed of the plane's flight plan," Taylor explained, "and since there was a window of opportunity in my schedule, I thought it wise for me to personally check on our Cogo operation. It was a last-minute decision. Of course, we'll be making a stop in Zurich for me to have a short meeting with some bankers. I hope you won't find that inconvenient." Raymond shook his head. "No, not at all," he stammered. "And how are things going with the bonobo project?" Taylor asked. "Very well," Raymond managed. "We're expecting a number of new clients. In fact, we're having trouble keeping up with demand."
"And what about that regrettable episode with Carlo Franconi?" Taylor enquired. "I trust that has been successfully dealt with."
"Yes, of course," Raymond sputtered. He tried to smile. "Part of the reason I'm making this trip is to be reassured that project is worth supporting," Taylor said. "My chief financial officer assures me that it is now turning a small profit. But my operations officer has reservations about jeopardizing our primate research business. So, I have to make a decision. I hope you will be willing to help me."
"Certainly," Raymond squeaked, as he heard the characteristic whine of the jet engines starting. It was like a party at the bar in the international departure lounge at JFK airport. Even Lou was there having a beer and popping peanuts into his mouth. He was in a great mood and acted as if he were going on the trip.
Jack, Laurie, Warren, Natalie, and Esteban were sitting with Lou at a round table in the corner of the