Chapter 13

Later that afternoon, Radner, along with Bruce Drayton, found Harry and Dixie sipping their coffee in his conference room. Harry jumped up as they entered the room.

“Well,” Radner said, “neither Millie nor the creature is on the facility grounds.”

“We’ve made a thorough search,” Drayton said. “She’s not here.” He took a seat in one of the empty chairs.

“You search her room?” Harry said.

“Not there,” Drayton said. “And it looks like she took her clothes with her.”

“Plus, her car is missing,” Radner said. “Apparently, she’s driven off the mountain and taken that thing with her, Harry.”

Radner had stopped calling the chimera by the name Millie gave it, choosing, instead, to call it the thing or the creature.

“She couldn’t have traveled far,” Dixie said. “She hasn’t been gone that long.”

“Long enough,” Drayton said. “Dr. Radner, I suggest we notify the authorities right away.”

“Of course, Bruce. Why don’t you do that now? You can use the phone in my office.”

Drayton left, and Radner continued.

“Harry, we’ve got to find her before the authorities do. We need to destroy that creature before word of any of this leaks to the press. Any ideas where she could have gone?”

“As far as I know she doesn’t have many friends outside the facility here,” he said. “Dixie?”

“She didn’t confide in me.”

“So what if the authorities find Roku?” Dixie said. “They’ll just kill him.”

“I believe her parents are living back East,” Harry said. “I’ll see if my secretary can round up a number. If she can, I’ll call them.”

“Yes,” Dixie said. “She might try and contact them.”

“Use the phone when Bruce is through,” Radner said.

After Harry left Dixie chatted with Radner. Her face was contorted into a deeply furrowed frown.

“Miles, the board of trustees voted to reprimand Harry. Pauling will give him the letter to sign in the next few days.”

“Gosh, Dixie, I’m sorry. I heard some rumblings of such a possibility. It’s hard to believe.”

“We’re trying to decide what to do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we want to stay or leave.”

Radner raised his eyebrows, blinked, and adjusted his glasses. “Leave? But why?”

“I don’t think Harry should work for a place that puts more value in the almighty dollar than their employees’ good work. That is what it boils down to.”

“But we need him, Dixie. Listen, after the Yeti escaped, I offered my resignation. Your husband wouldn’t hear of it. He has my undying gratitude. And respect.”

“You know, Miles,” Dixie said, chuckling softly, “early on I thought you a dork. But during that crisis, you redeemed yourself in my eyes. Harry’s as well. I know Harry is glad you’re the facility director. I’m just sorry that Millie has done this thing.”

“You’re very kind. I’m so sorry for Harry. But, please--don’t leave. I think I can speak for the entire department when I say that. We need and want you both.”

“Thanks, Miles. That means a lot, believe me. I know Harry feels the same.”

Together, they waited until Harry and Drayton returned.

***

There was a fear in the multitudes, in society. It was one that was rarely talked about or discussed at the workplace water cooler or in churches across the land. It wasn’t argued in the hallowed halls of Congress. But the fear existed, nonetheless.

The fear was that, if one started putting very large numbers of human brain cells into the brains of primates, suddenly you might transform the primate into something that had some of the capacities that were regarded as distinctively human--like speech--or other ways of being able to manipulate or relate to humans. It was these possibilities that were, at the moment, largely explored in fiction or movies that society as a whole refuses to take seriously.

There were two different aspects of research that were relevant to the warning. A creation referred to as a chimera, where full DNA was used from two separate and individual species of animals to create a new one, and a hybrid, where genetic parents of the same animal species each contributed half of the genes.

The word chimera had its origins in Greek mythology, the name of a fire-breathing creature described by Homer in the Iliad as being lion-fronted and snake behind, a goat in the middle. In Medieval art, although the chimera of antiquity was forgotten, chimerical figures appear as embodiments of the deceptive, even satanic forces of raw nature.

However, science lauded the first modern chimera in 1984, when scientists from the Institute of Animal Physiology in England created one from a sheep and a goat. Then, Chinese scientists at the Shanghai Second Medical University in 2003 successfully fused human cells with rabbit eggs. The embryos were reportedly the first human-animal chimeras successfully created. They were allowed to develop for several days in a laboratory dish before the scientists destroyed the embryos to harvest their stem cells.

One didn’t have to be religious or into animal rights to think this didn’t make sense. It was the scientists who wanted to do this. They’d now gone over the edge into the pathological domain.

***

Millie woke and rubbed her eyes. Had she been dreaming? Where was she? Oh, yes, now she remembered. She was in a cheap motel on the outskirts of North Las Vegas off Interstate 15.

Driving away from the Primate Research Facility, she stopped at an ATM, got cash, fueled her car, and headed here. Around midnight, she pulled into the motel because she was too exhausted to drive farther. Besides, she didn’t know where she was going, didn’t have a plan. She decided she would stay here until she figured it out.

She shot a glance on the bed next to her. Roku was asleep in his travel cage. But soon he would be awake and hungry, so she was going to have to venture to a grocer for milk.

Had Radner discovered her missing? Surely, by now, he knew she was gone. Had they called the police? Probably. Once they discovered she had taken her car, they would be combing the country looking for her and Roku. She had managed to throw a few clothes into a bag before getting in her car and driving away from Cinder Mountain.

Millie showered and changed into clean clothes, jeans, and a faded blouse. Roku was awake and fumbling with his cage. She looked at him, touched one of his small fingers.

“I need to find you some milk, Roku,” she said, cooing at the creature. “I’m going to leave you here in the room, so don’t be bad.”

Roku looked at her with his large eyes as if he somehow understood. Millie marveled at his growth rate and how intelligent he seemed. She grabbed her purse, locked the motel room door, and left.

She located a neighborhood grocery store and bought some milk and some food for herself that she could eat in her room. Chips and sandwich stuff. Back in her motel room, she fixed Roku’s bottle and herself a sandwich that she ate during the evening local news on television. So far, there was nothing about her or Roku.

Then she remembered her father’s cabin in Arizona. Where it was, she couldn’t remember. He bought it while she was in graduate school, but she had never been there. The Superstition Mountains sounded familiar. Maybe she could stay there a while till things calmed down.

She picked up her cell phone and dialed her parent’s number in Toledo. Her mother answered.

“Mom,” she said. “It’s Millie. How are you and Dad?”

“We’re fine, honey. You okay?” Her mother sounded happy to hear from her.

“That’s great,” Millie said. “Oh, I’m fine. Listen, Mom, is Dad there? I need to ask him something.

“He is, honey. Let me fetch him to the phone.”

Millie waited a long moment until she heard her father’s voice.

“Millie,” he said, “good to hear from you. Working hard up there at the facility?”

“Yes, I’m still working, still doing my research. Listen, Dad, I wanted to ask you--do you still have that cabin in Arizona?”

“Of course, Millie. Why?”

Millie’s pulse quickened. “You do? Great. I want to know if I could stay there for a few days?”

“Need some time away from the old grind, honey?” Her father’s voice sounded silky smooth, a quality she always liked.

“Yes, a little vacation.”

“But, of course, you can use the place, Millie. I don’t think you’ve ever been there, however. Let me give you directions.

“I can? Oh fine. Just a minute, let me get a pen.”

Millie scribbled the directions on a motel pad as her father gave them to her. They were involved as the cabin was far from anything civilized.

“What, Dad? I should buy groceries before I get there? Yes, I will.”

Millie continued to write as her father talked.

“The key is where? Great, fine.”

She chatted for a few minutes, hanging up, even though her mother seemed to want to talk. Okay, I’ll need to get a map. It’s east of Phoenix, which is an easy day’s drive southeast of Vegas. So instead of staying here, she could try to make the cabin by morning. She would hide out at the cabin and figure out how to deal with the current situation. And sooner or later, she was going to need money.

She set the alarm on her phone for midnight and lay down to get some sleep.

***

Bernard Wickingham sat in the dark of his small apartment, downing a bottle of bourbon. He was about two-thirds finished. He had replayed the afternoon meeting with Ingersoll over in his mind a hundred times, and each time, it turned out the same. He had no job. And after this, no career. The thought of unloading fish for the rest of his life made him sick to his stomach. He looked at the bottle of sleeping pills in his hand and chuckled. What a waste, he thought. What a waste.

Once, he had a brilliant career with a future where only the sky was the limit. Now he had nothing. No job, no career, no prospects, and no one to hold close. All his life, he never was close to anyone. After leaving home, his life was working on his doctorate, followed by finding a job. Relationships were a luxury, especially ones with the opposite sex. He realized, of course, the fault was entirely his. There was something about his confident manner that rubbed people the wrong way, especially women. Dixie Olson and Millie for example. Neither seemed to ever warm to him, a fact that depressed him. The sad thing, he thought, was that there was no longer any hope for those warm, comforting relationships with members of the opposite sex. His life, as he knew it, was over. There was no longer any point in going on.

He downed the rest of the bourbon leaving a couple of swallows for the pills. He opened the bottle and looked at them--big red ones. He swallowed half of them with a gulp of the liquor then finished them off with the last of the bourbon.

He thought of his mother, the only woman in his life. When he was a young boy, she told him he could be whatever he wanted to become and encouraged his pursuits. She was his rock, his anchor, always being there when he was down or needed a kind word. When she died, part of him died with her. No one ever was able to take her place.

Wickingham lay on his bed, let the darkness of the room engulf him. His head swirled. He thought back on his life, his lost opportunities, his failures, his very few successes, trying to do a balance sheet, but his brain was fuzzy. However, it seemed to add up to a huge minus.

His breathing slowed, and he relaxed.

The room became darker.

Then faded to black.

***

Millie woke with the alarm and showered again. Roku was asleep. After dressing, she brewed a cup of coffee in the room’s small coffeepot. She carried the small cage containing Roku to the back seat of her car, poured the coffee into a Styrofoam cup, and left.

To the south, the lights of the Las Vegas Strip sparkled and flashed. Overhead, the sky was clear and inky, without a moon. The night desert air was cool and crisp.

Millie drove through the city and pulled her car onto Interstate 515, heading southeast toward Boulder City and Lake Mead. After midnight, the traffic was light, only a few eighteen-wheelers plowing up and down the highway. She stopped at a travel mart near Henderson and got gas and another cup of coffee. She felt refreshed, invigorated by the fact she was dealing with her situation. No longer powerless in the face of daunting circumstances. For the present, she managed to put the worries over what might happen in the future out of her mind and concentrate on the tasks at hand.

As the highway curved back to the northeast, she noticed the eastern horizon getting lighter, a dull gray instead of black. She glanced at her watch. Three thirty-five a.m.

Up ahead was a dark expanse of nothingness, like a black hole in space. She knew it to be Lake Mead. The countryside here was flat, and the road fell away in front of her headlights in a monotonous straightaway. Dark ridges on the horizon, Millie knew, were the distant mountains of the Lake Mead area.

Turning back southeast, the road became Highway 93 and was a straight shot into first Kingman, then Phoenix. She turned on the radio to see if she could pick up any music and found a station playing soft rock. Roku slept and the miles rolled by.

By the time she reached the outskirts of Phoenix, the sun was peeking over the eastern mountains. Millie turned onto Highway 60 and sped east out of town. The traffic was light, so she made good time. Once beyond the city limits, she stopped for gas and breakfast, and to feed and change Roku. She withdrew the rest of her money from an ATM.

Arriving at Apache Junction, she bought groceries and milk. It was the last of civilization before entering the Superstition Mountains. Continuing on, she turned onto a narrow asphalt road and headed northeast. There were no cars on the road, only a few roadrunners and rabbits off in the distance. The sun, now higher, beat down with a new ferocity not experienced at the primate facility. But the air was just as dry, so she rolled her window down and enjoyed the fresh air. The road paralleled Salt River but soon turned in a more easterly direction where eventually it ended. To her right was a narrow, grass-covered lane that wound up into the mountains.

Following the directions given her by her father, Millie drover her car deep into the Superstition Mountains. She was alone, not another car or human did she see. A pack of coyotes dashed in front of her car. She braked and watched them disappear into the brush. After an hour of bumping up and down and following numerous twists and turns, she arrived at a clearing in the piñon forest where a small cabin sat at its edge. It was a rustic affair, just the kind her dad would love. And it was far away from any civilization. In short, the location was perfect.

There was a small covered porch, and Millie parked her car at the front of it. The cabin was as rustic on the inside as it looked from the outside. A few wooden beds with dusty thin mattresses, a wood stove, and several worn chairs occupied the single large room.

Millie unloaded her car, set Roku’s cage on the small hand carved table, fed and changed him, and collapsed in one of the beds.

She was soon asleep.