“You’re not going to put him in that cage,” Amiko said.
“We need to create the right habitat for him.”
“Habitat,” Amiko repeated. “You mean, zoo?”
“He can’t be turned loose just anywhere to fend for himself. Certainly you can see that. We will find a suitably appropriate habitat for him to live out the rest of his days.”
“Amiko’s right,” said Gideon. “He’ll die in a cage.”
Glinn continued on, his voice infuriatingly calm. “Mr. Garza and I ran countless scenarios on this. We chose the route with the highest probability of success. That route requires us to go in fast and hard, get the lotus, and get out. To establish a Cyclops preserve, we’d have to enter into negotiations with the Nicaraguan and Honduran governments — for whom this island is disputed territory. That would mean going through our State Department and diplomatic channels — a sure route to failure. We’re here, we’ve taken possession, and by the time anyone finds out, we’ll be gone. The Cyclops is in the way. We will do all we can to save it. But the lotus comes first. We’ll be doing God’s work in bringing this miracle to the human race.”
“God’s work?” said Amiko. “You really are crazy.”
“Not at all. This medicine is not for the benefit of one corporation, one nation, or one socioeconomic class. The goal of our client is to use this discovery to benefit the world.”
“Your goal is right, but not like this! That Cyclops saved my life! And Gideon’s!” Amiko’s voice was on the verge of breaking.
“It’s the only way.”
“It’s not the only way. You can’t do this.” She swallowed. “Wait until you see him, you’ll understand. He’s a person, he’s almost a human being. But even more than that, he’s the last of his kind. You can’t take him away from his home. Please, Eli, let him live out his last days here, in peace, in the place he knows and loves, where all his memories are.”
“I am indeed sorry, but that can’t happen.”
“For the love of God, don’t put him in that cage!”
“The cage is only temporary—”
In one smooth, practiced motion, Amiko pulled the .45 from the drysack and pointed it at Glinn. The aide raised his M16, but Glinn made a sharp gesture for him to put up the rifle.
“I’ll kill you before you put him in that cage,” Amiko said. “I swear to God.”
Glinn contemplated the .45 with a steady gray eye. “I already know you won’t use that on me.”
“You son of a bitch, I will!”
“Then do it.”
Amiko raised the barrel and fired it into the air, the massive pistol giving off a deafening boom, then lowered the muzzle again. Glinn continued looking at her. A group of soldiers burst into the tent, but Glinn again held up his hand. “Let me handle this.” He glared at Amiko. “I’m still waiting to see if you’re a killer. You want to stop this? You can do it by pulling the trigger.”
Amiko stared at him, her chest heaving, the gun shaking in her hand. Suddenly she rushed at him, swinging the gun like a club. The aide launched himself forward to tackle her, grabbing for the gun, but she was too quick, spinning around and striking him in the head with her foot. The two soldiers threw themselves into the struggle, one punching her hard in the face. Seeing this, Gideon joined in without thought, tackling one soldier and sending him sprawling into the side of the tent, while kneeing the other solider in the diaphragm. The tent came down around them with a tearing of canvas and clattering of poles. Others joined the fray and in a moment it was over. Gideon found himself jammed facedown on the ground, knees pressed into his back. He could hear Amiko amid the wreckage of the tent, screaming like a wild woman.
“Clear this mess away,” came Glinn’s cool voice.
The tangle of torn tent fabric and bent poles was whisked off, leaving Glinn sitting, unscathed, in his wheelchair. Amiko was pinned by two men, her nose bloody, screaming at Glinn.
“Let Gideon up,” Glinn said.
They released him and Gideon stood up, spitting blood from a cut lip.
“You bastard,” Amiko screamed at the top of her lungs. “You won’t just kill him, you’ll be responsible for the extinction of his species!”
“You are a bastard,” said Gideon, staring at Glinn, and then at Garza. Garza hadn’t participated in the melee. His face was a hard, neutral mask.
“You won’t get away with this,” Amiko continued yelling. “The world will know! You cage that Cyclops, you’ll pay!”
Glinn shook his head. “You are thinking with your emotions.”
“Go to hell!”
“Please take her away until she’s rational.”
She was hauled away, cursing and spitting. Glinn turned his gray eye on Gideon. “You seem…confused.”
“I’m not confused about the way you’re treating her. It’s outrageous.”
“I want you to understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Give me credit for caring what you think.”
Gideon stared at him. He could still hear Amiko outside, yelling, screaming, and threatening. He didn’t quite know what to make of her outburst, pulling the gun. The intensity of her rage, its extreme suddenness, shocked him. Glinn, on the other hand, almost appeared to have expected it.
“As I was saying, this is the best — and the only — way to succeed. If we let the local governments become involved — even if they don’t destroy the island in their squabble over it — they will seek to monetize the discovery. They will cut an exclusive deal with a multinational pharmaceutical company to bring the drug to market. The end result is that the drug will be expensive and available only to the privileged. And they’ll put the Cyclops in a real zoo and monetize that as well. The way to stop this is to do what we are doing now. A preemptive strike. Our client, who is completely trustworthy and a man of goodwill, will found a nonprofit organization that will breed the plant and distribute it free to any qualified research group, government, and pharmaceutical company that wants it. In this way, the drug will come to market at the lowest possible cost.”
He paused again and eyed Gideon with peculiar intensity. “I’d think you, of all people, would want to see this drug developed.”
Gideon said nothing. Glinn had touched him where he was most vulnerable. But caging the Cyclops remained an ugly, ugly decision.
Glinn went on in his reasonable voice. “The logic is inescapable. We will do all we can to help the Cyclops, but it cannot remain on this island. According to our computer simulations, we have twenty-four hours before our presence here is discovered and investigated. If we don’t have the lotus by then, we will fail.”
Gideon winced slightly as Amiko, outside, let forth another shrill outburst. “As always,” he said, “you make everything sound so inevitable. But I want no part of it.”
“And you shall have none. Neither you nor Amiko. Tomorrow morning, Manuel will fly you both to Managua, and from there you will return to the States. Your work is done. And exceedingly well done, if I might say so, despite the contretemps at the end.” He gestured toward the sound of Amiko’s screaming. Glancing in her direction, Gideon could see that the two men holding her were having a hard time; she was amazingly strong for someone so small.
Suddenly a thunderous roar came from the wall of jungle. Gideon turned his head in time to see an extraordinary sight. The Cyclops came bursting from the foliage, his yellow eye fiery with rage, his mouth open, exposing long, yellow canines, his gigantic, muscled frame radiating ferocity, his silver hair streaming behind him. He carried a club in one massive hand and a spear in the other. He rushed straight at the men holding Amiko, who were so stunned they seemed momentarily paralyzed. He swung the club, which literally exploded the skull of one of the men, and grabbed Amiko.