being killed.
The episode ended Siegfried’s career as a white hunter. It also left him
with his facial scar and a paralyzed right arm. The extremity hung limp
and useless from its shoulder connection.
Rage over the incident had made him a bitter and vindictive man. Still,
GenSys had recognized his bush-based organizational skills, his
knowledge of animal behavior, and his heavy-handed but effectual way of
dealing with the indigenous African personality. They thought he was the
perfect individual to run their multimillion-dollar African operation.
‘There’s another wrinkle with the bonobo operation,’ Bertram said.
‘Is this new concern in addition to the weird worry of yours that the
apes have divided into two groups?’ Siegfried asked superciliously.
‘Recognizing a change in social organization is a damn, legitimate
concern!’ Bertram said, his color rising.
‘So you said,’ Siegfried remarked. ‘But I’ve been thinking about it, and
I can’t imagine it matters. What do we care if they hang out in one
group or ten? All we want them to do is stay put and stay healthy.’
‘I disagree,’ Bertram said. ‘Splitting up suggests they are not getting
along. That would not be typical bonobo behavior, and it could spell
trouble down the road.’
‘I’ll let you, the professional, worry about it,’ Siegfried said. He
leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked. ‘I personally don’t care what
those apes do as long as nothing threatens this windfall money and stock
options. The project is turning into a gold mine.’
‘The new problem has to do with Kevin Marshall,’ Bertram said.
‘Now what in God’s name could that skinny simpleton do to get you to
worry?’ Siegfried asked. ‘With your paranoia, it’s a good thing you
don’t have to do my job.’
‘The nerd has worked himself up because he’s seen smoke coming from the
island,’ Bertram said. ‘He’s come to me twice. Once last week and then
again this morning.’
‘What’s the big deal about smoke?’ Siegfried asked. ‘Why does he care?
He sounds worse than you.’
‘He thinks the bonobos might be using fire,’ Bertram said. ‘He hasn’t
said so explicitly, but I’m sure that’s what is on his mind.’
‘What do you mean `using fire’?’ Siegfried asked. He leaned forward.
‘You mean like making a campfire for warmth or cooking?’ Siegfried
laughed without disturbing his omnipresent sneer. ‘I don’t know about
you urban Americans. Out here in the bush you’re scared of your own
shadow.’
‘I know it’s preposetrous,’ Bertram said. ‘Of course no one else has
seen it, or if they have, it’s probably from a lightning storm. The
problem is, he wants to go out there.’
‘No one goes near the island!’ Siegfried growled. ‘Only during a
harvest, and it’s only the harvest team! That’s a directive from the
home office. There are no exceptions save for Kimba, the pygmy,
delivering the supplementary food.’
‘I told him the same thing,’ Bertram said. ‘And I don’t think he’ll do
anything on his own. Still, I thought I should tell you about it just
the same.’
‘It’s good that you did,’ Siegfried said irritably. ‘The little prick.
He’s a goddamned thorn in my side.’
‘There is one other thing,’ Bertram said. ‘He told Raymond Lyons about
the smoke.’
Siegfried slapped the surface of his desk with his good hand loud enough
to cause Bertram to jump. He stood up and stepped to the shuttered
window overlooking the town square. He glared over at the hospital. He’d
never liked the epicene bookish researcher from their first meeting.
When he’d learned Kevin was to be coddled and accommodated in the second
best house in the town, Siegfried had boiled over. He’d wanted to assign
the house as a perk to one of his loyal underlings.
Siegfried balled his good hand into a fist and gritted his teeth. ‘What
a meddling pain in the ass,’ he said.
‘His research is almost done,’ Bertram said. ‘It would be a shame if he
was to muck things up just when everything is going so well.’
‘What did Lyons say?’ Siegfried asked.
‘Nothing,’ Bertram said. ‘He accused Kevin of letting his imagination
run wild.’
‘I might have to have someone watch Kevin,’ Siegfried said. ‘I will not