Zack lifted his head, searching for his rifle, and saw it speared into the ground, barrel first, five feet away. He lunged for it, rib pain forgotten. His dive brought him to it and through it, and he clutched it to his chest as he came to his knees. The beast was where Marvin had been. Zack saw its head jerk as another shot sounded from Eagle Feather's tree. Zack fired, and the beast turned toward him, roaring in fury. Zack fired again, aiming at the open mouth, and saw it hit. The tormented creature's eyes found Zack and it launched itself toward him. Zack fired a third time, the sound of his shot coinciding with yet another from the tree, and the monster slowed and then slumped to its knees. It lingered there, head hanging as if in prayer, then plunged to the ground and lay still.

  Eagle Feather's voice came to him, a tinny sound from Zack's phone in the grass where he had dropped it. Zack reached for it, his trembling fingers slow and clumsy.

  "Are you okay, White Man?"

  Zack breathed out. "Thanks for the warning!"

  "I knew you could handle it."

  Zack tried to chuckle but groaned instead. "I'm going to go see if Marvin is alive. You should call the Jeep back."

  "Be sure that monster is dead first," Eagle Feather warned.

  Zack stumbled forward, his legs barely supporting him. He pointed his rifle barrel at the beast and placed a shot in its ear from three feet away. Its head jerked from the impact, but there was no other movement from it.

  Beyond the dead creature, Marvin lay sprawled on his stomach, arms and legs akimbo. Fearing the worst, Zack knelt to check for a pulse. As his fingers touched Marvin's neck, the victim's eyes opened and he looked up at Zack. The cloudiness of returning consciousness cleared, and Marvin asked, "Is it dead?"

  "Yes."

  Marvin tried to rise but groaned in pain, and slumped down again.

  "Where are you hurt?" Zack asked, his eyes searching.

  Through gritted teeth, Marvin said, "The same damn place. I feel like every rib is broken." He stared at Zack. "You were supposed to kill it before it got to me. What happened?"

  "You are alive. That's enough. In fact, that's pretty damned amazing."

  "I don't feel so alive."

  "At least it didn't puncture a lung," Zack said.

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because you are talking so much."

  Eagle Feather was there now. "The Jeep is on its way back," he said. "We'll get you straight to the hospital." He paused. "Again."

  They made Marvin as comfortable as they could, cushioning him on the sleeping bag and cautioning him not to move, an unnecessary warning. He couldn't.

  Then Zack and Eagle Feather went and stared down at the giant creature.

  "What an ugly bastard," Eagle Feather said.

  Zack tried to come to grips with the strange look of it, its massive build, Gorilla-like, yet longer and lither, like a giant, furry man. The hair on its head was bristly and dark, reddish-black, short like a butch cut at the very top but longer beyond the crown cascading down like a dark waterfall, blending into its mahogany body hair that grew everywhere but on its palms and the bottoms of its enormous feet.

  "Look at the face," Zack said. "It reminds me of someone."

  "Yes it does," Eagle Feather said.

  Their heads came up as headlights bounced across the dusky meadow and the Jeep came toward them. It had barely stopped when Newie tumbled out of it and rushed over to them. He stood in silence, staring down at the creature.

  "You killed it," he said.

  "That was the idea," Eagle Feather said.

  "But it's unique. There will never be another like it."

  "That is a good thing."

  "Don't you feel any concern for your friend and colleague?" Zack asked.

  Newie looked up, startled. His eyes searched and found the still form on the sleeping bag.

  "Oh, no! Marvin. Is he...is he dead?"

  Marvin tilted his head up. "No, but I might be if you don't stop yakking and get me to a hospital."

  "Right." Zack turned to Jack, who had joined them from the Jeep. "I'm going to turn the Jeep around and back it up to Marvin. We'll use the sleeping bag as a stretcher to ease him into the back of the Jeep."

  The task was quickly done. Once Marvin was aboard, Newie went to climb in.

  "Whoa, there," Zack said. "Jack will drive Marvin to the hospital, then return with the Jeep. There's not enough room for all of us with the rear seat down." He leveled his gaze on Newie. "We can spend that time with a little chat. Eagle Feather and I have some questions for you."

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  "Tell us again about that thatch of hair you used for the cell nucleus transplant," Zack said. The men were sitting near a small fire they had made to counter the cold that surged in with the darkness. The beast's body was fortuitous protection against a west wind, although its stench was omnipresent. "You said it came anonymously in the mail, supposedly from the scene of a bigfoot sighting."

  Newie's eyes appeared like twin saucers dancing with the reflected firelight behind his glasses. "Yes, that's right."

  "And that's what initiated your little experiment, the incidental arrival of the hair?"

  "Yes, uh-huh."

  Eagle Feather drew his hunting knife from its sheath. It gleamed and flashed in the firelight. He began working the blade back and forth against the leather of his pants.

  Newie's eyes were drawn that way as if by a magnet.

  Zack kicked at a burning stick in the fire with a sudden motion, causing a shower of sparks to rise into the darkness.

  Newie's gaze flicked back to him.

  "And you had never experimented like that before, other than cloning dairy cows?" Zack asked.

  Newie shook his head.

  In an abrupt motion, Eagle Feather's knife left his hand and glistened past Newie's ear, ending its flight in the side of the dead beast with a grotesque thunk.

  Newie's mouth gaped and his eyes grew even larger.

  Eagle Feather grunted. "I thought I saw it move." He stepped by Newie to retrieve the knife, wiped its blade on the beast, and returned to his seat. He continued the slow wiping motion of the knife on his pants.

  "Are you sure?" Zack asked Newie. He spoke as to a child. "I don't think that clump of hair just happened to arrive in the mail. Do you, Eagle Feather?"

  "No."

  "Why...why not?" Newie croaked the question as if it was physically stuck in his throat.

  "We met someone with hair exactly like that beast's hair." Zack gestured toward the beast.

  "He's almost as tall," Eagle Feather said.

  "And very strong," Zack said. "I wonder if you've met him, too?"

  "Gosh, I don't know," Newie said. "What's his name?"

  Eagle Feather's knife cleaning paused.

  "Isaac," Zack said.

  "Uh, gee, I don't––"

  "Enough! It may be that your actions will never result in criminal charges, or it may be they will. But your biggest worry is this interview with us right here, right now. Do not lie."

  Newie spluttered, began to speak, then went silent.

  They waited.

  "Okay, okay," he said, a moment later. "I'll tell you the whole story. Then you'll see that we did nothing wrong."

  =

  Wilford Newie was a brilliant young biochemist dreaming of changing the world when he first went to work for New Generations Laboratories forty years ago. In truth, a biology lab focused on improving the health of local dairy herds was not his first choice, but the pay was excellent and he was promised a relatively free hand in the lab, which was important to him. But he soon became frustrated in his dreams of making his mark in his chosen field by the mundane work assigned to him.

  Then, when in 1996 Wilmut and Campbell created the first cloned mammal by somatic cell nuclear transfer from an adult sheep’s udder cells into an enucleated egg, Newie saw his future. A picture of the resulting famous lamb, named Dolly (after Dolly Parton), adorned the wall over his desk in the lab.

  Newie's responsibilities and authority grew in proportion to his creativity and proficiency. His New Generations lab became the first in the valley to develop improved dairy stock by nuclear transfer. As client milk quality and quantity improved, so did New Generations' reputation.

  Newie's career arced upward, his pay raises were proportional, his reputation among veterinarians and zoologists flowered, and he was a happy man, but for one minor yet irritating issue: he never acquired the title of Lab Director, despite his value to the organization. That title was held by a man who had been with the company since its inception and would hold it until he retired or died. He had no intention of doing the former nor did he evidence any signs of the latter. Newie sometimes suspected the man had invented a secret method for increasing longevity.

  Newie decided he had to accomplish something beyond developing the perfect cow to establish his right to the title. But what? His environment limited his opportunities, while the competition in his field enjoyed massive, sparkling labs at state universities, with all the latest equipment, and liberty to pursue any goal they wished.

  Newie was pretty much stuck with cows.

  Then came Verma. Verma was a large woman with alcohol and stress wrinkles mapped all over her face like a plowed field. She rose up next to Newie's car window like a gaunt Banshee as he was exiting the grocery store parking lot, demanding loose change for food. These miserable people were often clustered at this particular location, insisting on washing his clean windshield or holding signs asking for money for coffee. In truth, Newie was a little afraid of them, keeping his window rolled up tight and his eyes straight ahead.

  This woman was larger and more intimidating than most, and her sudden appearance startled and frightened him. A car was stopped in front of him, and he was stuck for the moment. He slunk down in his seat, averted his face, and honked his horn. But then, out of nowhere, an amazing idea came to him, an idea so brash it stunned him, an idea that could boost his career and reputation beyond all others.

  Oh, and he could help this poor woman at the same time.

  Newie took a business card from his wallet, underlined his cell number, and rolling down his window an inch, slipped the card into the woman's enormous palm.

  "Call that number tomorrow morning. I can help you earn lots of money," he told her.

  Later, in the comfort and security of his home, Newie mentally kicked himself for his spontaneous action. The idea was crazy, in retrospect. The woman was desperate, maybe even violent, who knew? And now she had his number, his business address, and he'd invited her into his life.

  But then he thought, what was the likelihood she'd call? Could she even access a phone? Who would call a stranger with a vague offer such as he'd given?

  Sometimes spontaneous ideas, fueled by excess coffee or too much sugar, were best forgotten, and he determined to do exactly that.

  The incident was entirely gone from his mind when his cell phone rang at eleven the next morning. A husky voice, gender uncertain, spoke.

  "This is Verma," she said. "You said to call you. You better not be screwin' with me."

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Zack's eyes narrowed. "I suspect I'm not going to like where this story is going,"

  "Hear me out," Newie said, protesting. "I did the woman a service; you'll see."

  =

  Newie sent a cab to the parking lot entrance to transport Verma to a back entrance to the lab. Admittedly, he was nervous and unsure how to proceed, now that the opportunity was in hand. His wild idea had come together quickly, too quickly. He must be careful, and take it one step at a time.

  Newie let Verma in through the back door and ushered her unseen into his private lab. The strange surroundings frightened her, he saw. Her fears manifested themselves in aggressiveness.

  "What are yuh gonna do to me?" she demanded, drawing herself to her full, impressive height, her fists clenched.

  He made his voice sound soothing. "Nothing you don't want me to do. If you say no to anything I ask of you, I will call a cab and send you right back, no problem. Would you like some cake and a coffee?"

  She would. She inhaled the coffee and the small cakes that accompanied it. After eating, she was more amenable.

  Newie took blood and tissue samples, as painlessly as possible. He tried to learn her lineage, but she either knew little or remembered little. She'd been homeless and living on handouts for as long as she could remember, and she couldn't remember much, for poor nutrition and constant suffering had diminished her mental capacities.

  Her eyes lit up when Newie placed a twenty-dollar bill in her hand as he sent her on her way.

  "Do you still have my number?" he asked her, as she climbed into the cab.

  She dug into her copious bosom and extracted his card, waving it at him.

  "Call me next time you need cash," he said. "You could earn much more money than that."

  After she left, Newie felt some of his guilt and anxiety slide away. He had not demanded she return but rather had left it up to her. Meanwhile, he would analyze her blood, run her DNA, and see what he could learn.

  Her blood revealed all the expected effects of her poor nutrition, but no disease or health compromises that might exclude her from his plans. He'd have to nourish her and build up her strength, of course.

  But her DNA came back a puzzle. He studied it for several days. She appeared to come from rugged stock, geographically somewhere in the Balkans, it seemed, but he found a minute intrusion in her pattern, something he couldn't decode. He was still working on it when she called again. Her money had run out.

  She returned several times after that, more comfortable each time, and a bit more trusting. She eagerly accepted the increase in cash rewards he proffered. With a steadier diet available to her now, albeit probably sugar-heavy, a new bloom came to her features and she displayed greater vigor. The cash increases from each visit stimulated her greed. She was hooked. Newie decided it was time for the next step.

  "Have you ever thought about being a mother, having a family?" he asked at her next visit, keeping his tone casual.

  Her face registered surprise, her reaction was dismissive, oppositional, then suspicious, and finally curious.

  "Why?"

  He explained to her how she could have a baby, have a home, have a new life, all completely financed.

  She stared, dumbfounded. Then anger distorted her face. "I like my life, I don't want to have no kids getting in the way."

  Newie nodded and smiled. "As you wish," he said. This time he sent her off with double the money she'd received before.

  "Have a nice life," he said.

  She didn't call for a week. Newie was not surprised. He'd calculated how long it would take her to spend the money. But when she hadn't called by the middle of the following week, he became edgy.

  But then, a day later, she called.

  "Whose gonna be the father? You?"

  "Oh. no, no, no. The father will be unknown to both of us. Your child will be yours, and yours alone."

  She arrived at the lab the next morning.

  Newie walked Verma through the process. He would extract an egg from her ovaries, remove the nucleus, replace it with a guest nucleus, and insert it in her uterine lining. That was it.

  "And then I'll be pregnant?"

  "With luck."

  The process took several visits, during which time Newie made multiple arrangements. He knew he needed help, someone who would dedicate himself to the cause sufficiently to keep their secret. He found his man in Marvin, the all-purpose assistant at the labs, whose tasks encompassed everything from security to assisting with dead cow removal.

  =

  "He resisted, at first," Newie said. "But when I explained the significance to science of this experiment, he came aboard. One thing about Marvin: once he makes up his mind to something, he's all in."

  "What nucleus was in the egg you put in that woman?" Zack demanded.

  Newie was hesitant, and looked away before admitting, "Betty, the chimp."

  Zack was horrified. In truth, he hadn't wanted to hear the answer to that question, but there it was.

  "Why? Why a chimp?"

  "The chimpanzee is the closest living relative to human beings. Scientists have never discovered the missing evolutionary link between apes and humans. They keep hoping someone will dig it up one day. My way would be faster, more direct. I would create a fetus with the attributes of both, and by studying it, resolve the question."

  "But..." Zack was at a loss for words.

  Newie shrugged. "Shall I go on, or not?"

  Zack sighed. "Alright, go ahead. But I must warn you against self-incrimination."

  "I think we're way past that, don't you?" Newie said.

  =

  The transfer was a success, everything went according to plan. Once it was clear that Verma was pregnant, it was time to place her somewhere secure and away from curious eyes. Newie bought a patch of land in the San Rafael Mountains and had a cabin built, a well dug, and installed Verma there with everything a young mother could need. Marvin made frequent trips there with supplies and kept records of her progress and health data, which Newie kept in a journal.

  Verma visited the lab once a month for a Doppler ultrasound and NST. At each visit, Newie found healthy fetal development. He scrutinized the fetus for any striking, definitive physical characteristics. He was intensely absorbed. Would the offspring be more chimp or more human in appearance?

  Newie had no intention of letting the fetus come to term, planning to remove it once the nature of its development became clear and then study it at his leisure in the lab. He planned to tell Verma she'd miscarried, but he'd let her keep the cabin and all that went with it. He wasn't completely heartless, after all. And who knew when her services might be needed again?

  But in the end, he changed his plans. As the fetus grew, it appeared human in every respect. So much so that Newie began to wonder if Verma had somehow managed to fertilize another egg at the critical time, displacing the manipulated egg. Frustrated, he now realized he must allow the baby to be born. If it was completely human in appearance, he could still study it during its growth, and see how it developed, just in case.

 

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