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.