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