Chapter 40

The setting sun cast deepening shadows and rays of orange and magenta over San Francisco Bay. The view from the patio of Harry and Dixie’s San Mateo home was breathtaking. Gerald Siscom, Miles Radner, and Chloe Rawlings were gathered, and, while Dixie mixed drinks, Harry stoked the barbecue grill. It was a somber occasion, not the usual lighthearted bantering that accompanied their get-togethers. Millie’s death cast a pall over the group.

“She was a tremendous asset to the university,” Dixie said. “A brilliant, hard-working graduate student and a promising faculty member. She will be sorely missed.”

“Here, here,” Harry seconded. He sipped his drink and noticed Siscom sitting quietly. “How about you, Gerald? You worked with her every day.”

Siscom shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. It was obvious he was having difficulty with Millie’s death.

“What is there to say?” he said. “I was in love with her. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“We all feel that way, Gerald,” Chloe said. “She was in a class of mine. No one worked harder.”

“Harry talked with her parents the other day,” Dixie said.

All eyes turned to him, expecting more. He nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “I spoke with her father, mainly. They are devastated, of course. There wasn’t much I could say. I believe Pauling called them as well.”

“We will all miss her,” Dixie said.

Radner brought news.

“Harry,” he said, as the group lounged on the patio, drinks in hand. “I bring tidings from Dr. Pauling.” He shot a glance at Dixie and winked. “He and the board of trustees have graciously reconsidered their decision and are offering you your old position back. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Chloe set her drink on a small table and smiled.

“That’s wonderful, Miles,” she said.

“About time,” Siscom chimed in.

Radner nodded.

“You talked with Pauling?” Harry said. He ambled to the barbecue and checked the steaks that were sizzling on the grill.

“Yes,” Radner said. “And he is as excited about this turn of events as well.”

Chloe Rawlings wore a white pantsuit and had pulled the jacket about her shoulders to ward off the evening chill.

“It’s what we have all wished for, Harry. To have you back. Business as usual.”

Radner frowned and shook his head.

“Well, not quite business as usual.”

“Okay, Miles,” Harry said. “What’s the catch? There is a catch, right?”

“Just a slight one,” Radner said, trying to sound upbeat. “You’ll need to be on probation for a year. But, Harry, it’s only a formality. No reflection on your character or reputation.”

There was a moment of silence while Harry thought this over.

“No reflection, eh? Then why?”

“Oh, Miles, How could the board...” Rawling’s irritated voice trailed off when Harry held up a hand.

“Listen, everyone,” he said. “I love each of you and have had a grand time working with you. But I cannot accept the position under those terms. Miles, I’m sorry. I know you must have had a hand in this, and I appreciate it. You all have been so supportive. But, please, let’s not let it spoil our evening.”

Harry dished up the steaks and poured the wine while Dixie passed the salad around. Gradually, the talk turned to idle chatter with Harry being as relaxed as he had ever been. Later, when Dixie poured coffee, the phone rang. It was Dr. Brock with the Institute of American Antiquities.

“We’ve finished the vetting process,” he said, “and I am pleased to offer you a position with the Institute. As we talked before, you can write your own ticket. I am so pleased.”

Harry hardly knew what to say, but he accepted. Returning to the patio, he sported a large smile that wasn’t wasted on Dixie.

“Who was that?” she said.

“The Institute,” he replied. “Offered me a position, which I accepted.”

Dixie jumped up and hugged him. “Oh, that’s just wonderful,” she said.

“What will you be doing?” Siscom said, sipping his coffee.

“I dunno. I haven’t thought about it much.”

Chloe Rawlings, who had been silent through most of dinner, rose and stretched her legs. “Harry,” she said. “Congratulations. I wish you all the best.”

“As do all of us,” Radner enjoined.

Chloe continued. “I have been struggling with what Millie did. On the one hand, what she accomplished was a giant scientific step forward and took a tremendous amount of courage. On the other hand, didn’t she just create a monster? A monster that, in the end, society had to deal with and that took her life?”

Harry shook his head. “Well, classically, a monster is any creature, usually found in legends or horror fiction, often hideous, that produces fear or physical harm by its appearance or its actions. The word derives from the Latin monstrum, which means an aberrant occurrence, usually biological, that was taken as a sign that something was wrong within the natural order. The word usually connotes something wrong or evil. A monster is generally morally objectionable, physically or psychologically hideous, or a freak of nature. It can also be applied figuratively to a person with similar characteristics like a greedy person or a person who does horrible things.”

Siscom laughed, patting Harry on a shoulder. “He sounds just like a college professor, doesn’t he?”

“You can laugh about it if you want, Gerald,” Chloe said. “But Roku was, in my opinion, a genetic monster.”

“Nature does this all the time, Chloe,” Harry said. “It’s called mutation. Most of the mutations do not survive very long and die off.”

“The chimera didn’t look like any of us, didn’t act like any of us, and, quite simply, wasn’t like any of us. So what good was Millie’s experiment? For what noble purpose was Roku created?”

“Are you suggesting, Chloe,” Radner said, “that the work of science should be solely for society’s benefit? How about knowledge for knowledge’s sake?”

“Isn’t that the story of the fall of man?” Dixie said. “Trying to be like God?”

Harry pursed his fingers together. It felt good to be among friends, debating serious issues.

“I think,” he said, “we have this intelligence, and we should use it. Whether it was given to us or it was developed over eons, matters little to me. We have it, and to not use it would be tantamount to wasting our unique gift.”

“It’s such a shame to not see how Roku turned out,” Dixie said. “We all might have been surprised.”

Later that evening after his guests left and Dixie was asleep, Harry sat in his study. The soft light from his desk lamp illuminated what he held in his hands. Now that he had a position with the Institute of American Antiquities, he could go anywhere, do anything his heart desired. But what was that?

He stared at the tube of blood he held. It was a tube of Roku’s blood he procured from the ME’s office during the autopsy. Cal Pacific declined the donation of Roku’s corpse, so the chimera’s body was dumped in the ME incinerator and destroyed.

But within Roku’s blood lay his genetic code, the secret of what made him different. Part Millie Harbaum and part Yeti.

He thought for a long while.

What could he do with Roku’s blood?

Then he smiled.