Authors: Michael Bray
"Not about this," Kate said, holding his gaze.
"I'm not sure if the people at Homeland Security know this, but my reputation isn't exactly stellar in the science community these days. If it's a consultant you want, I suggest Sebastian Eller or Mary-Ann Palmer. I’m sure they would be more than happy to help you."
"I'm sure they’re good, but I also know they don't know anything about the Tiger monkey you discovered in the Congo."
Draven stared at her, two people alone surrounded by thriving jungle and a couple of thousand Bullet ants. "I'm done with that part of my life. It nearly ruined me." He grunted.
"I know what happened and I know what was said. It turns out, you might yet have a chance to vindicate yourself and prove you were right."
"It's accepted now that I was right, or at least, it is, for the most part, even so, the damage is already done. Either way, it's a dead end. Science isn't in a position to do anything with my research anyway. Not only was I made a fool out of by my colleagues, it was all for nothing to boot. I'm sorry, I can't help you."
He knelt again, trying to concentrate on the ant nest but finding himself staring at Goodall's shadow, which was still thrown across the dirt in front of him and showed no signs of moving.
"What if I told you not only was your research valid, it had also already been implemented into human subjects."
Draven turned to face her. "I'd tell you it's impossible."
"It's true," Kate said, staring at Draven.
"It's bull."
"You said so yourself, Mr. Draven. Why would they send me all the way out here for someone like you with your questionable reputation if your inclusion in this situation wasn’t absolutely vital?"
"That's a bit harsh, but okay. I'll admit, you have me curious. Tell me more." Draven said, again enduring the pain in his knees as he clambered back to his feet.
"I will, but not until we’re on a plane out of here and on our way back to Washington."
He stared at her and was definitely starting to change his perception of Goodall as just eye candy with security clearance. There seemed to be more layers to this particular onion than he first thought.
“What if I refuse?” he said, deciding to push her a little bit more.
“That’s up to you. I’ll report back to my superiors about your unwillingness to help and they will send out a team to arrest you. You can either do this of your own free will or via a prison cell Mr. Draven. It’s your choice.”
"When do we leave?" he muttered, taking a last look at the nest and thinking about all the research he was about to miss out on.
"Right now. There's a private plane waiting at the airport."
"Private plane huh?" Draven said with a sour grin "How can I refuse?" He was flirting, testing the waters, seeing if she would respond, which in a way, she did. However, stony silence wasn't the reaction he was hoping for. "Come, on lighten up. I said I'd come with you didn't I?" He added.
"If you knew what we could be up against here, you might not be quite so cheery."
"Well that just put me in a bad mood," Draven grumbled as he brushed dirt from his pants. He took a great gulp of water from the plastic bottle in his bag and then offered it to Goodall.
"No thanks," She said, slipping on a pair of stylish sunglasses. "Come on, we better go."
II
Five hours later, Draven had swapped the oppressive humidity of the Yucatan jungle for the air conditioned spaciousness of the private jet which had been sent for him. Feeling like a new man after a hot shower and a change of clothes, he looked out at the expanse of cloudless sky as they cruised at almost forty thousand feet. He and Goodall were the only passengers, and as she had disappeared up front some time ago, he was seriously considering trying to get some much-needed shut-eye. Taking advantage of the plush leather seats, he stretched out his legs and stifled a yawn. As if sensing his intentions, Goodall strode through the door from the cockpit area and dropped an overstuffed file on his lap.
"You better start reading. We don’t have much time." She said as she grabbed the remote control for the flat screen TV mounted at the front of the cabin.
"What’s all this?" Draven said, leafing through the reams of paper.
"That's why we brought you here. That folder is what became of your discovery."
She scowled and sat opposite, watching him intently.
"Have I done something to offend you?” He asked, unable to ignore the hostility aimed at him.
"No, why?" She asked in the way women always did when no meant yes.
"Well, you've been short with me ever since you found me. Remember, I didn’t come looking for you."
"It’s nothing personal."
"So what is it?"
"I don’t like having to come all the way out here to babysit you. It’s a waste of time."
"Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but it's not my fault. Take it up with your boss if you have a problem."
She straightened in her seat, perhaps not expecting such a response.
"Sorry," she said with a sigh, relaxing a little. "It’s been a rough few days. You have no idea how much is riding on you being able to provide us with some answers. It irks me when you joke around and make light of things."
"Don’t take it personally. It's a defensive thing. Some kind of coping mechanism or so my therapist told me. I make jokes out of serious situations. It’s how I get by. It doesn’t mean I’m not interested or paying attention. In fact, I’m more than a little curious. To be fair, you haven’t been very forthcoming in handing over information. I still don’t even know why I’m being dragged to the other side of the world."
She tucked her fringe behind her ear and folded her hands on her lap. "I’m supposed to wait until my boss briefs you."
"Based on the size of this file you just gave me, any head start will be appreciated."
"Give me a minute," She said, standing and taking her phone back through the door towards the cockpit.
Draven leafed through the first few pages of the file, which didn’t appear to be in any kind of order. He made a mental note to complain to Goodall about it, if only to see if he could push her buttons a little more for his own amusement, when she came back, shoving her phone into her pocket.
"Okay, you want answers, you’ll get them direct from my superiors," She said as she switched the channel on the TV. "It’s a live webcam link, so you might want to sit up straight," She said as she activated the camera. Draven ignored her, slumping further down in his seat just to be annoying. On the screen was a dreary looking office desk, behind which was an equally dreary looking man dressed in an ill-fitting grey suit. He had the look of a school teacher in everything apart from his eyes, which were a sharp and brilliant blue.
"Mr. Draven," the man on the screen said. "Pleased to meet you at last. My name is Marcus Atkinson, Homeland Security director. It’s me who gave the order to bring you in."
Draven was barely paying attention. Something in the files had caught his eye, and he was furiously leafing through the pages, a deep frown on his brow.
"Mr. Draven?" Marcus said again.
"Am I reading this right? You mixed the primate DNA with a human?" Draven said, staring at the television screen.
"It's not quite as simple as that, I’ll explain in full when we meet but-"
"This won’t wait. Did you or did you not merge the primate DNA with people?"
"Yes, we did," Marcus said. "That’s why we need to speak to you. It seems we are having certain issues with our test subjects."
"Let me guess," Draven said, sneering at the screen. "These people you modified are showing extreme increases in aggression. I’d bet my house I wouldn’t be a million miles away if I suggested they had also stopped following orders? Maybe gone into business for themselves?"
"How did you know that, Mr. Draven?" Marcus asked, shifting his gaze towards Goodall.
"I’m asking the questions,” Draven snapped. “Am I right or am I wrong?"
Marcus squirmed in his seat. "Yes. That’s exactly right. Are you suggesting you know why this has happened?"
"I know exactly why. Who was in charge of this? The genetics project, I mean."
"A scientist called Genaro, he's supposed to be the best," Marcus said.
"Robert Genaro?"
"Yes. Do you know him?" Marcus said, glancing towards Kate.
"I only met him once, but I know his work. He’s supposed to be brilliant, which is why I’m surprised he missed such a huge and obvious flaw."
"What are we dealing with here Mr. Draven?" Marcus said, straightening a little in his seat.
"Is Genaro there?" Draven said, ignoring the question as he started to separate some pages from the rest of the file.
"No, he isn't.
"Get him there. I need to talk to him."
"He's unavailable until at least tomorrow. Anything you need to say you can do so now. This conversation is being recorded so I can relay it back to him straight away."
“That’s not good enough. I need to speak to him. I have questions.”
“He seems to think you are the most knowledgeable on this subject, Mr. Draven,” Marcus said with more than a hint of irritability. “That’s why we came all this way to get you.”
“As far as research about the Tiger monkeys goes, yes I am. Most of this relates to Genaro’s work after my involvement ended. No disrespect, but I don’t have time to dumb it down for you. I need to speak to him directly.”
Marcus cleared his throat and straightened his tie. Draven could see he had pushed a little too far, and hoped it served to relay how urgent his request was. “Mr. Draven, please. I appreciate what you’re saying. However, we can’t reach Dr. Genaro right now. Could you please give it to me in simple terms so I can at least give the rest of the people working on this some kind of idea about what we’re dealing with?”
Draven sighed, tapping his fingers on the file. "Okay fine, I’ll give you the simple version. It seems to me that Genaro based his entire program on the single paper I published in nineteen-ninety-nine on the specific healing properties of the tiger monkey. What he wouldn’t know is that there was much more to my findings than made the article. Long story short, this species of monkey had all of these amazing regenerative properties and a killer immune system, but it all came at a price."
"Go on," Marcus said, his brow furrowed.
"I conducted experiments on these creatures and found that along with the increased resilience and seeming unlimited regeneration, the monkeys also had flaws. Something put into the creature’s genetic makeup by nature to counterbalance its amazing abilities. My experiment’s showed the male monkeys possessed incredibly inflated levels of testosterone, so much so that they would go into a frenzy and fight to the death with other members of the group for little to no reason, often with no provocation. Have you ever heard of the term roid rage?"
"Yes,” Marcus said, folding his hands on his desk. “That’s what they call increased aggression in long-term steroid users."
"Exactly. Now imagine that a thousand fold and you will see why I’m so concerned. In the wild, the Tiger monkey aggression was controlled in a sense because they had a definite hierarchy within the community with one male acting as the Alpha to which the rest of the species deferred. Also, due to the harshness of their environment in the Congo, they were forced to exist together in a form of uneasy alliance. What you, or should I say, Genaro has done, is take those traits and merge them with the volatile and complex human machine."
"What does that mean for us?" Marcus asked.
"Humans as a species are an incredibly selfish, violent and bloodthirsty race. We are ruled by greed, jealousy, anger, selfishness and every other flawed emotion you can imagine. Think about it from the point of view of those who have been changed for a second. What would you do if you had almost unlimited power, and a volatile no tolerance temper to boot? To put it a better way, what would you do if the restrictive rules of society, of right and wrong no longer applied to you? What if you were superior to your fellow man and knew nobody could do anything about it? Would you still take orders from those you deemed beneath you? Or would you decide for yourself what you wanted to do?"
"This is worse than we thought," Marcus muttered.
"Not to heap more misery on you, but I can see it getting worse before it gets better,” Draven said.
“In what way?”
“You said they've gone rogue, is that right?"
"Yes, we’ve lost all communication with them. Intelligence has picked up a possible sighting going into the Tremont tunnels in Boston. We have a team en route and about to engage. Other than that, we have no leads. Any idea why?"
"I think so, but I need to read these files first to check my info. In the meantime, please contact Genaro as a matter of urgency. This is important."
“Absolutely,” Marcus said. “Is there anything we can do in the meantime to help from this end?”
“All any of us can do now is pray it’s not too late,” Draven said.
“Alright,” Marcus replied. “Call me back on this line if you need anything else. I’ll have a car waiting for you when you land.”