Chapter 6

Millie was in the Animal Care Unit early the morning after the embryo transfer. She let herself into the airlock, donned sterile coveralls, and entered the cage area. The room was cold, the temperature still at the lower level before warming for the day. There were four large animal cages occupying the room, two on each side of a narrow walkway. All were occupied by young chimps who, upon her arrival, began excited chattering and moving around their cages. The one she was interested in sat on the floor and ate from a bowl of food. When Millie approached the front of her cage, the animal stopped eating, looked up, and sauntered over, as if to greet her.

The chimp’s large dark eyes sparkled as she continued to chew the last remnants of her food. Millie took a step closer. Siscom must have already made rounds for all the monitoring devices had been removed from her. The animal appeared to be without obvious serious sequelae from her procedure the day before. No blood or fluid on the floor of her cage that might indicate a miscarriage. The chimp grasped the bars of the cage and hopped up and down. Millie thought she seemed happy.

“I’ll name you Tika,” she said, half out loud. “And I ought to dream up a name for the baby you’re carrying.”

Millie left the cage area and walked to her small workroom, where her computer and research records were housed. She sat, switched on the computer, and waited for the Cal Pacific network login to appear on the screen. She typed in her username and password and soon navigated to the research facility scientist’s area. After locating her page, she began typing, entering her latest observations into her log which she renamed Project Tika.

0610 ~ Tika seems fine this AM. No worse for the procedure yesterday. Up and around in her cage. Eating. Eyes bright. Greeted me when I arrived in the unit. Will await Dr. Siscom’s assessment.

She typed an email to her father then left the unit and headed to the dormitory for breakfast. Leaving the main building, Millie noticed the sun rising over the eastern edge of the plains creating an orange glow on the horizon. Gerald was right, she thought. Sunrise was spectacular. Atop Cinder Mountain, the morning air was clean, crisp and invigorating.

Millie found Siscom eating his breakfast and joined him after going through the line and selecting eggs, bacon, grits, toast, and coffee. When she slid into her chair opposite the veterinarian, he raised his eyebrows and whistled.

“Hungry?” he said.

“I could eat a horse this morning,” Millie said, diving into her eggs.

“Must have had a good night’s sleep then.”

Millie nodded, her mouth full.

“I did,” she said after swallowing, “and I just checked on Tika. She seems to be doing fine.”

“Tika?” Siscom said, taking a gulp of coffee.

“That’s what I have named her, our chimp. I couldn’t very well go on without naming her. Couldn’t continue calling her the chimp.”

Siscom chuckled. “Don’t look now, but your feminine side is showing, Millie.”

“I’ve been worried I didn’t have a feminine side, Gerald. It’s good to know I do.”

Dr. Gerald Siscom was single, having been divorced from his wife for a number of years. Millie heard talk that the woman had taken him to the cleaners and that Siscom came to the facility to escape his previous life and his ex-wife. The other men at the facility, except for Radner, had wives and families who lived in the nearby town of Grant. They usually went home at night or on the weekends. She frequently saw the two single men, Radner and Siscom, in the game room playing chess in the evenings.

The veterinarian was tall, somewhat heavyset, wore wire-framed glasses, and sported a graying mustache. He was a good ten years older than Millie, but there was something in his easy manner that drew Millie to him. He was always calm, never rattled when things got hectic in the unit, and spoke a kind word to all the technicians. He possessed an unusual softness, something Millie rarely saw in most male scientists.

“Actually, Millie, you’re very attractive,” Siscom said. Saying that, he ducked his head as if embarrassed, finished his coffee, and stood. “I’ll see you in the unit shortly.”

Mille watched him replace his tray and leave the dining hall. Wow, she thought. He thinks I’m attractive.

All that morning they worked alongside each other, their conversation focused on the work at hand. The first thing Siscom wanted to do was draw a blood sample for progesterone analysis.

“The placenta becomes a significant source of progesterone by approximately week six of chimp pregnancy. Serum progesterone concentrations rise in a linear fashion with advancing gestation, ultimately attaining values more than twofold greater than prior to pregnancy. By the end of pregnancy, the placental production rate of progesterone is a value more than ten-fold greater than at any time in the animal’s estrus cycle. Progesterone levels are also predictive of pregnancy outcome. Abortion ultimately results in more than eighty percent of primates with very low levels of progesterone. Progesterone concentrations are also typically low in primates with ectopic pregnancies. So these first samples should reflect low progesterone levels and, as the pregnancy progresses the levels should rise.”

“And if they don’t?” Millie said.

“Then there’s no pregnancy. The embryo either didn’t implant or she aborted it.”

“There was no blood or fluid in her cage this morning,” she said.

“And that’s a hopeful sign,” Siscom said.

They moved to a small enclosure next to Tika’s cage into which a technician rolled an animal squeeze cage. He then left and returned, leading Tika by the hand and ushered her into the squeeze cage. She squawked a few times but settled into the routine she obviously knew well. The technician began rotating the lever that moved one wall of the cage against the other until Tika was immobilized.

“She doesn’t mind it?” Millie said. “Being treated that way?”

“Our animals have been trained, or rather conditioned, to accept the squeeze cage as part of their existence. Overcoming their fear is our big hurdle. Positive reinforcement training is based on giving pleasurable rewards for the desired behavioral response, so we give them plenty of treats. It’s like training your dog. We give the animal a choice: it chooses to cooperate or not, rather than being made to comply with a procedure. The training allows desensitization of the animal to frightening and even painful events, thereby reducing the stress associated with such events.”

“So your training uses a target or goal-defined behavior,” Millie said.

Siscom nodded. “Yes. And it must be selected and clearly defined. Once the overall aim is selected, then a series of small steps is used to progress to the behavioral goal. Correct responses or approximations toward the goal are reinforced, while incorrect responses are ignored.”

“They learn quickly?”

“These chimps are smart, so yes, they learn and adapt very quickly.”

Siscom moved the side of the squeeze cage and approached Tika who stared at him with large dark eyes.

“There now, girl,” he said softly, “you’ve done this many times before. We’ll be through in a moment, and you can have your treat.”

He reached into the cage, plunged the needle into Tika’s groin, and withdrew a sample of blood. The animal didn’t flinch or make a sound, she just watched Siscom work. Once she shot a glance toward Millie, whose heart skipped a beat. Soon, Siscom was finished. The technician released Tika, and the two ambled back to her main cage.

“She gets a treat now for being such a good patient,” Siscom said, smiling. He injected the blood into a blood specimen tube, labeled it, and placed it in the refrigerator in the small lab. “It goes to a laboratory in Las Vegas.”

Much later, Millie sat alone at her workstation, reflecting on the day’s activities. She was pleased with the work to date and hoped the progesterone level would indicate Tika was pregnant. When her thoughts drifted to Siscom, a smile formed on her face. He said I was attractive, she mused. She thought back to when they were on the desert searching for the escaped Yeti. Gerald listened to her, and she began to see him in a different light. No longer just a veterinarian. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he certainly wasn’t bad looking either.

She was beginning to really like Gerald Siscom.

***

Harry sat in Pauling’s office, having received a summons to an important meeting. He ensconced himself in a leather chair at a small round table next to Pauling’s desk. Also at the table were his president and a man Pauling introduced as chairman of Cal Pacific’s Board of Trustees, Alistair Forester. The look on each man’s face was somber, and Harry sensed that this meeting might not end well. The newspaper article weighed heavy on his mind, and he rubbed one temple with an index finger.

“Harry,” Pauling started, “Mr. Forester here requested a face-to-face meeting with you and me to discuss the latest developments outlined in the Chronicle. I want to assure you this is not a witch-hunt, nor are we looking for a scapegoat. Right, Mr. Forester?”

The silver-haired man nodded. Forester was immaculately groomed in a tailored blue wool suit and plain green silk tie. He didn’t smile.

“So, to begin, Harry, why don’t you give us the particulars of what happened years ago that led to the newspaper story.”

Harry shifted his weight in his chair and cleared his throat. With heart pounding in his temples and bile burning his stomach, he began. He didn’t relish rehashing his past mistakes.

“A number of years ago, right after I finished grad school, Professor Kesler hired me here at Cal Pacific, and I continued the research I did for my doctorate. That work led to a publication in which, in a naive and childish attempt to bolster my reputation, I used data that I knew weren’t correct, that I made up. Fortunately, and to my astonishment, the Professor discovered what I had done, but not before the article appeared in print. He was devastated by my actions and left me feeling as if I had betrayed my own father. That’s what he had become to me. I would have sooner cut off my right arm than see the look in his eyes when he confronted me with his suspicions.

“Of course I owned up to what I had done, and the Professor graciously used his influence to make it right. He wrote a letter that was printed in the journal, saying that he was responsible for the inadvertent mistake, and I subsequently corrected everything in a paper that followed six months later.

“In all the years I was the Professor’s assistant, he never mentioned the incident and, as embarrassed as I was, neither did I. That is until one evening in Mongolia when he visited our team after the Yeti discovery.” Harry’s voice trembled as he continued to talk. His eyes sought some evidence of understanding from Forester but saw none. “That evening I broke down, apologized. Dr. Kesler put a hand on my shoulder and forgave me. He told me that we would never speak of it again, that I had done my penance, and that he was as proud of me as if I was the son he never had.”

Harry paused, struggling to gain control of his emotions. Pauling and Forester sat still as statues, a pensive look on their faces.

“That’s it, gentlemen. I owe everything I am to Dr. Kesler’s kindness, and I can never repay him. I carry his memory with me every day. Dr. Pauling here was fully aware of the incident, and I never attempted to hide anything from him. However, no one but my wife knew of our reconciliation in Mongolia. The fault rests solely with me, no one else. I have no excuse, except that I was young and eager to make a name for myself. To my great relief and with my undying gratitude, Dr. Kesler forgave my mistake, and together we moved on. I believe everyone has moved on from the incident.”

Pauling cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair.

“And nothing was heard about this until the other day when the article in the Chronicle appeared. Personally, I think it is much ado about something that happened years ago. It was handled internally and resolved to my satisfaction.”

Forester adjusted his tie.

“Well,” he said in a baritone voice reminiscent of an opera singer, “unfortunately, I don’t think the trustees will see it quite that way. Dr. Olson’s actions, even though occurring years ago, reflect poorly on the university. It is my feeling that there ought to be a formal investigation into this affair and, if warranted, a reprimand placed in Dr. Olson’s personnel file.”

“Mr. Forester,” Pauling said, “I really don’t believe that is necessary. I handled the matter as part of my administrative responsibility. I stake my professional reputation on Dr. Olson’s integrity. He has brought academic acclaim to our university, which was much needed as we begged for donations.”

“If I remember correctly,” Forester said, “the escape of those Yetis and the subsequent slaughter of innocent people happened on Dr. Olson’s watch as well. We might need to include those items in our investigation.”

Oh brother, thought Harry. This man is after my hide.

Forester stood. “Dr. Pauling, I think I’ve heard enough for now.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Olson, you’ll be hearing from the board in the near future.”

Pauling escorted the man to the door and asked his secretary to accompany him to his car. Upon returning to the office, Pauling put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Gird your loins, Harry,” he said. “That’s all I can say. Gird your loins.”