The Apotheosis. Darrell Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ Not this year. There were pregnant monkeys to keep an eye on. He loosened his tie, looked at his watch. I have enough time for a quick check.

      John passed a long row of tables covered with equipment. He passed his cloning device and the two freezers that kept their contents at eighty degrees below zero. At the far end of the lab, he swiped his card at another door and stepped into the primate area. Again, the overhead lights came on automatically.

      To his right was a separate room with a large, glass window. An operating table occupied the center of the room. Surgical equipment in unopened packaging lay organized on tray carts lined against the wall. In the main room, stacked against the wall, were a half-dozen empty cages, two feet high by two feet wide and three feet long, solid metal, except for the barred front door. At the other end of the room, through a Plexiglas wall, a large metal apparatus with numerous ropes for the rhesus monkeys to climb on stood in the center of the confined space. A skylight lit the area with sunshine during the day. Sitting about, calmly grooming themselves or one another, were five female rhesus monkeys. Each had been implanted with an embryo the week before.

      As John approached the glass wall, one of the monkeys, whom he had named Petri, came to a metal platform just inside the small glass door in the center of the wall. She had come to John’s laboratory from the lab at Harvard University when she was three years old. She had never known life outside of a laboratory and looked to humans as caregivers. She had developed an attachment to John. He enjoyed spoiling her with treats he kept in his pocket. He unlatched the thick Plexiglas door and opened it. Petri hopped through and climbed on John’s arm.

      “How are you this evening, Ms. Petri?” John reached into his pocket, removed an almond and gave it to her. She quickly devoured the morsel. It had taken John three years to get to this point. These five primates were about to prove that he could clone a perfectly healthy primate 100 percent of the time. In the beginning, it took over one hundred attempts to produce just one embryo suitable for implantation. By the end of the second year, he had refined the technique so that every embryo was a good candidate. When he tried the first ten implantations, one produced a clone: Petri’s clone. Now he believed his device was perfected; it was going to be 100 percent successful. John gave Petri his last almond and opened the Plexiglas door again.

      “I must be going; I don’t want to be late for the company holiday party.” John placed his hand on the bottom edge of the doorway and Petri ran down his arm, back onto the platform inside.

      From his lab, it was a short drive through the snow-plowed streets of Boston to the Four Seasons Hotel. When he got to the crowded conference room, the party was going strong. John looked around. Not a single familiar face. These people worked in the same building he did, but he knew only a dozen of them by face and a handful by name. Everyone else in the room was a stranger. John jostled through the crowd till he was at the bar. The bartender stood waiting.

      “Old Fashioned,” John said.

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Angostura Bitters, please.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      John looked back at the expanse of tables in the room. That was when he first noticed her. She was halfway across the room, walking through the crowd. A full-length black evening dress fit her form well. Not too tight. Bare shoulders of unblemished alabaster skin, like a satin sheet. The dress narrowed to her dainty waist and flowed over her hips to the floor. Ink-black hair fell to mid-back. She came closer. John faced the bar. The bartender came from the far end with his drink. As the bartender arrived, so did the woman, now standing beside him.

      “Water, please,” she said to the bartender. John looked at her. She noticed and smiled at him. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown and her smile very polite and sexy at the same time.

      “I don’t believe we’ve ever met. I’m John.”

      She reached out with her hand as John extended his. Hers seemed half the size of his.

      “Nice to meet you. I’m Amira.”

      “I’ve never seen you around the building. But I work in a lab on the third floor and don’t get out very much.”

      “I don’t work at the company. If you work in the lab, you probably know my husband, Ethan Shinwell?”

      “Yes. I know Dr. Shinwell. I don’t work in his lab, I work in one across the hall.”

      The bartender returned with her water. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. Her eyes widened a bit.

      “You work in the new lab near my husband?”

      “Yes. Right across the hall.”

      “You must be Dr. John Numen, the son of the man who started the company?”

      “Yes, I am,” John said.

      “Dr. Numen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She smiled wider.

      “Please, call me John.”

      “I read your bio in the company brochure. All the board members are in there; they handed them out at the front door this evening.”

      “I’m in the company brochure?”

      “Yes, but there wasn’t a picture with it like the other board members, which is why I didn’t know who you were. It’s very nice to meet you in person. My husband mentioned you to me when you first came to the company.”

      John looked over Amira’s shoulder and saw Ethan approaching.

      “Dr. Numen, good to see you. I see you’ve met my wife?” Dr. Shinwell placed his arm around her waist. Amira stood rigid.

      “We were just introducing ourselves. You’re a lucky man, Dr. Shinwell. She’s a beautiful woman.”

      Amira looked down at the floor.

      “Thank you, Doctor. Sorry to interrupt. We must be going. If you don’t mind, dear?” He nodded to Amira.

      “Nice to meet you, Dr. Numen,” she said, this time without a smile. In a moment, she had disappeared into the crowd with Ethan.

      JUNE 20, 2021

      During the summer, just a few months shy of my twenty-first birthday, Uncle Robert took me to Nassau to meet the tax attorney. I didn’t even know I had a tax attorney, much less in the Bahamas. But I knew the trust fund left to me by my father had been growing, untouched, with investments and deposits from the company for the past eleven years. I had no idea how important this trip was to be to me later.

      It was a small, brick, windowless building, standing alone on a block of a nondescript street in New Province. The only unusual things about it were the five satellite communication antennas on the roof and the thick, metal front door. We walked in and were immediately greeted by Lee Silkcox. Black as ink, almost two-dimensional. Salt-and-pepper hair and beard. His casual dress gave no hint of his wealth. To this day, he’s one of the smartest men I have ever met.

      He shook hands with Uncle Robert, and pleasantries were exchanged.

      “Perhaps you should find a local bar to kill some time, Robert. I’ll give you a ring when I am finished with Mr. Numen.” With that, Uncle Robert СКАЧАТЬ