Robin Cook - Chromosome 6

“Exactly,” Kevin said. “It wasn’t what I had in mind in the beginning. I was just a pure researcher. What I ended up doing was something I was lured into because of its economic potential.”

“Wow!” Jack commented. “Ingenious and impressive, but also a little scary.”

“It’s more than scary,” Kevin said. “It’s a tragedy of sorts. The problem is I transferred too many human genes. I’ve accidently created a race of protohumans.”

“You mean like Neanderthals?” Laurie asked.

“More primitive by millions of years,” Kevin said. “More like Lucy. But they’re intelligent enough to use fire, make tools, and even converse. I think they are the way we were four or five million years ago.”

“Where are these creatures?” Laurie asked with alarm.

“They’re on a nearby island,” Kevin said, “where they have been living in comparative freedom. Unfortunately, that’s all about to change.”

“Why is that?” Laurie asked. In her mind’s eye, she could see these protohumans. As a child she’d been fascinated by cavemen.

Kevin quickly told the story of the smoke eventually bringing him, Melanie, and Candace to the island. He related how they’d been captured and then rescued. He also told them about the creatures’ fate effacing lifelong internment in tiny concrete cells purely because they were too human.

“That’s awful,” Laurie commented.

“It’s a disaster!” Jack said with a shake of his head. “What a story!”

“This world isn’t ready for a new race,” Warren said. “We’ve got enough trouble with what we have already.”

“We’re coming up on the waterfront,” Kevin announced. “The square at the base of the pier is around the next bend.”

“Then stop here,” Jack said. “There was a soldier there when we arrived.”

Kevin pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the headlights. He kept the engine running for the air-conditioning. Jack and Warren got out the back and ran down to the corner. Carefully, they peeked around the bend.

“If our boat is not there, are there other boats around here?” Laurie asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Kevin said.

“Is there another way out of town besides the main gate?” Laurie asked.

“That’s it,” Kevin said.

“Heaven help us,” Laurie commented.

Jack and Warren came back quickly. Kevin lowered his window.

“There’s a soldier,” Jack said. “He’s none too attentive. In fact, he might even be asleep. But we’ll still have to deal with him. I think it best you all stay here.”

“Fine by me,” Kevin said. He was more than happy to leave such business up to others. If left to him, he wouldn’t have had any idea what to do.

Jack and Warren returned to the corner and disappeared.

Kevin raised his window.

Laurie looked at Natalie and shook her head. “I’m sorry about all this. I suppose I should have known. Jack seems to have a penchant for finding trouble.”

“No need to apologize,” Natalie said. “It’s certainly not your fault. Besides, things are looking a lot better than they did only fifteen or twenty minutes ago.”

Jack and Warren reappeared in a surprisingly short time. Jack was holding a handgun, while Warren was carrying an assault rifle. They got into the back of the Toyota.

“Any problem?” Kevin asked.

“Nope,” Jack said. “He was very accommodating. Of course, Warren can be very persuasive when he wants to be.”

“Does the Chickee Hut Bar have a parking area?” Warren asked.

“It does,” Kevin said.

“Drive there!” Warren said.

Kevin backed up, took a right and then the first left. At the end of the block he pulled into an expansive asphalt parking lot. The darkened Chickee Hut Bar was silhouetted ahead. Beyond the bar was the sparkling expanse of the broad estuary. Its surface shimmered in the moonlight.

Kevin drove directly up to the bar and stopped.

“You all wait here,” Warren said. “I’ll check on the boat.” He climbed out with the assault rifle and quickly disappeared around the bar.

“He moves quickly,” Melanie commented.

“You have no idea,” Jack said.

“Is that Gabon on the other side of the water?” Laurie asked.

“It sure is,” Melanie said.

“How far is it?” Jack asked.

“About four miles straight across,” Kevin said. “But we should try to get to Cocobeach. That’s about ten miles away. From there we can contact the American Embassy in Libreville who will certainly be able to help us.”

“How long will it take to get to Cocobeach?” Laurie asked.

“I’d estimate a little more than an hour,” Kevin said. “Of course, it depends on the speed of the boat.”

Warren reappeared and came to the car. Kevin lowered his window again.

“We’re cool,” Warren said. “The boat’s there. No problem.”

“Hooray,” everybody replied in unison. They piled out of the car. Kevin, Melanie, and Candace brought their canvas bags.

“Is that your luggage?” Laurie teased.

“This is it,” Candace said.

Warren led the group into the darkened bar and around to where there were steps to the beach.

“Let’s move quickly until we get behind the retaining wall,” Warren said. He motioned for the others to precede him.

It was dark beneath the pier, and everyone had to move slowly. Along with the sound of the small waves lapping against the shore was the noise of large crabs scampering into their sand burrows.

“We’ve got a couple of flashlights,” Kevin said. “Should we use them?”

“Let’s not take the chance,” Jack said as he literally bumped into the boat. He made sure it was reasonably stable before telling everyone to climb in and move to the stern. As soon as everyone had done so, Jack could feel the bow become lighter. Leaning against the boat, he began to push it out.

“Watch out for the crossbeams,” Jack said as he jumped aboard.

Everyone helped by reaching for the wood piles and pulling the boat silently along. It took them only a few minutes to travel to the end of the pier which was blocked by the floating dock. At that point they angled the boat out into moonlit open water.

There were only four paddles. Besides the men, Melanie insisted on paddling.

“I want to get about a hundred yards away from the shore before I start the motor,” Jack explained. “There’s no sense taking any chances.”

Everyone looked back at peaceful-appearing Cogo whose whitewashed buildings shrouded in mist glimmered in the silver moonlight. The surrounding jungle limned the town with midnight blue. The walls of vegetation were like tidal waves about to break.

The night sounds of the jungle fell astern. The only noise became the gurgle of the paddles passing through the water or their scraping along the side of the boat. For a time, no one spoke. Racing hearts slowed, and breathing tended toward normal. There was time to think and even look around. The newcomers in particular were captivated by the arresting beauty of the nocturnal African landscape. Its sheer size was overwhelming. Everything seemed bigger in Africa, even the night sky.

For Kevin it was different. His relief of having escaped Cogo and having helped others to do so as well, only made his anguish about the fate of his chimeric bonobos that much more poignant. It had been a mistake to have created them, but abandoning them to a lifetime of captivity in a tiny cage compounded his guilt.

After a time, Jack picked up his oar and dropped it into the bottom of the boat. “Time to start the engine,” he announced. He grasped the outboard and tilted it down into the water.

“Wait a second,” Kevin said suddenly. “I have a request. Something I have no right to ask of you people, but it is important.”