“Greedy bastard,” John replied, checking out the latest pictures of his grandson on Chavez’s desk. “Yeah, I read it. He spent half a million to buy the place from the estate of Foster Hunnicutt. I guess the bastard told him more than just what Brightling was planning, eh?”
“I suppose.” Chavez read on. In the business section he learned that Horizon Corporation stock was heading back up with the release of a new drug for heart disease, recovering from the loss in value that had resulted from the disappearance of its chairman, Dr. John Brightling, several months earlier, a mystery that remained to be solved, the business reporter added. The new drug, Kardiklear, had proven to reduce second heart attacks by fully 56 percent in FDA studies. Horizon was also working on human longevity and cancer medications, the article concluded.
“John, has anybody gone back to Brazil to-”
“Not that I know of. Satellite overheads show that nobody’s cutting the grass next to their airport.”
“So, you figure the jungle killed them?”
“Nature isn’t real sentimental, Domingo. She doesn’t distinguish between friends and enemies.”
“I suppose not, Mr. C.” Even terrorists could do that. Chavez thought, but not the jungle. So, who was the real enemy of mankind? Himself, mostly, Ding decided, setting the newspaper down and looking again at the photo of John Conor Chavez, who’d just learned to sit up and smile. His son would grow into the Brave New World, and his father would be one of those who tried to ensure that it would be a safe one-for him and all the other kids whose main tasks were learning to walk and talk.