George Chesbro: Second Horseman Out of Eden

"So the soil would be used to degrade waste products?" I asked.

"Yes. But there's more to it. In theory, you would also need the rain forest itself, albeit on a very small scale, to produce both sufficient oxygen and rain."

"Rain?"

Zelaskowich nodded. "Yes; produced by condensing coils mounted in the top of the dome, over your rain forest. Naturally, this rain forest would produce a great deal of organic waste, and that particular type of soil, with its high microbial count, would be required to break down the waste."

"You're saying this company planned to build a jungle under glass?" Garth asked, making no effort to mask his skepticism.

"Or plastic. Yes, Garth. And not only a rain forest, but also a desert, an ocean, a freshwater lake, and saltwater marshes as well; all of these things would be needed if they hoped to maintain a proper ecological balance inside the biosphere."

"To what end? What would be the point?"

"One day-and that day could be far in the future-Nuvironment hopes to be the sole supplier of such biospheres to the world's space agencies. Such a biosphere would enable humans to live on and colonize not only, say, the moon, but other planets as well. If and when that day comes, Henry Blaisdel's long-term investment will, of course, be repaid many times over. But I don't really think he worries about what Nuvironment is costing him, or future profits; after all, he'll be dead for years, perhaps centuries, before biospheres could be in use throughout the solar system-if that day ever comes. Blaisdel is a philanthropist, with an apparently highly developed social consciousness. In my opinion, he sees Nuvironment, with its sole function of finding a way to build biospheres, as his bid for immortality. After all, there are lots of billionaires in the world, so that simply amassing great sums of money is not sufficient to guarantee that you will even be remembered, much less honored. For example, Howard Hughes is remembered by most people for his eccentricities, not his accomplishments. I suspect Henry Blaisdel doesn't want to make the same mistake-although that's only my opinion, as I say."

Garth and I exchanged glances, and then Garth stepped up to the botanist and shook his hand. "Thank you, Samuel. You've been very helpful, and I can't tell you how much Mongo and I appreciate your taking the time to share this information with us."

Zelaskowich looked back and forth between us, a puzzled expression on his face. "But I haven't been able to tell you where the soil sample could have come from."

"You've shown us where to look next," I said.

"Oh dear," the botanist said, and he flushed slightly. "Are you going to question the people at Nuvironment?"

"Is that a problem?"

Samuel Zelaskowich took off his glasses and began to fumble with them; he looked decidedly uncomfortable. "It's just that. . well, I'm afraid they tend to be very secretive about their research activities; they want outsiders to know as little as possible about what they're doing. In my enthusiasm to share my knowledge with you, I may have been indiscreet. Actually, I rather doubt that anyone there will even agree to talk to you, and the fact that I've leaked-that's the word they'll surely think of-information to you could reflect badly on the. . Botanical Garden." He paused, flushed again, put his glasses back on and pulled himself up straight. "What I really mean is that it could cause me some personal difficulties if you talk to the people at Nuvironment."

"Don't worry, Samuel. Neither Garth nor I will say where we got our information; your name won't be mentioned."

"But they will most definitely speak to us," Garth murmured in a low, flat voice that was almost inaudible.

"Thank you," Zelaskowich said, visibly relieved. "Uh, may I inquire as to just why it is that this information is so important to you?"

"We're trying to find a little girl who's in danger," Garth replied simply as he headed for the door. "Merry Christmas," he called over his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Samuel," I said, and headed after Garth.

Zelaskowich caught up with us just as we were leaving the building. He'd been running. "Excuse me," he said, red-faced and panting. "Can you wait just a minute? I may have something else for you."

"What is it, Samuel?" I asked.

The botanist took a deep breath, slowly let it out. "Garth, you said there's a little girl in danger?"

"A great deal of danger," my brother replied evenly. "And she's hurting very badly. Mongo and I have to find her in order to stop that hurting."

"Oh, my," the moon-faced man said as he made a birdlike motion with his hands that seemed surprisingly delicate for such a big man. "That's terrible."

"Yes," Garth said in the same flat tone. "That's terrible."

"And you think that soil sample is a key to finding her?"

I nodded. "We're certain of it, Samuel."

"In that case, you don't have to concern yourselves with keeping my name out of any discussions you may have. I wanted you to know that. And I'll be happy to do whatever else I can to help, if you need me."

"You've already helped, Samuel. Garth and I will have no need to mention your name. But thanks for the offer."

"I thank you, but what I'm most concerned about right now is the possibility that nobody at Nuvironment will agree to talk to you. Perhaps I should call them and try to do something to pave the way."

Garth shook his head. "The people at Nuvironment will be our concern, Samuel."

"Well, there is somebody else who might know something about that soil sample."

My brother glanced quickly at me, grunted slightly. "And who would that be, Samuel?"

"Craig Valley; Dr. Craig Valley."

"Does Valley work here?"

"Craig used to, but I'm afraid he was fired about three months ago. He was our curator of orchids. As I mentioned, many staff members here have done consulting work for Nuvironment at one time or another, but Craig was the primary liaison between the company and the Botanical Garden. Indeed, more than a few of us suspected that Craig considered his efforts on behalf of Nuvironment more important than his regular duties. All requests from Nuvironment came through him, and he doled out the consulting assignments-which could be quite lucrative. It was Craig who received the initial request from Nuvironment for the rain forest soil; indeed, he'd already made preliminary shipping arrangements when the Customs Service intervened and stopped him. He took it personally; he was quite upset. I'm thinking that it's possible Craig may have continued to work for Nuvironment after he left here, and that he may have finally persuaded the Customs Service to give him the required permits. In any case, he may have information that could prove useful to you." Zelaskowich paused, looked down at the floor, continued quietly, "Craig is a rather. . uh, strange man. He can be very difficult to talk to, but I don't see how he could refuse to cooperate with you on a matter of this importance, something that concerns the well-being of a child."

"We'll see," I said.

"The personnel department may have his address and phone number, and I'd be happy to check it out for you. I seem to recall that he lives in a town house on the East Side of Manhattan, somewhere in the sixties or seventies."

"We'll find him."

Garth asked, "Why did Valley get fired?"

Again, the botanist lowered his gaze. "I don't like to gossip, Garth. Do you really need to know that?"

"At the moment it's difficult for us to be certain just what it is we'll need to know in order to find the girl," I answered. "Knowing something about Craig Valley before we go to talk to him might be helpful to us in ways we can't anticipate now. You described him as a 'strange man.' Why? In what way is he 'strange'?"

Zelaskowich sighed, then shoved his large hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "Well, in my opinion it was his religious zealotry that got him fired-although that wasn't the official reason given; after all, the city and the Botanical Garden wouldn't want to be charged with religious discrimination."