“Morton figured that, eventually, it would prove profitable for him financially, as well, but Mandervan was more motivated by philosophy than money,” Hufnagel said.
As the project progressed, there was a need for a test group that wouldn’t speak about the effects and possible side effects of the chemicals. Bonobos were chosen because they were close relatives to humans, and female-dominated. It was after the bonobos were chosen that Hufnagel was approached because of his work in the area. For the first six months, the bonobos were studied, until their social interaction was known inside and out. By that time, the first version of the bonobo equivalent of Adam I had been developed and could be tested. Through continuous testing, refining, retesting, they developed a version of Adam I that worked on the bonobos. Through continuous pheromonal therapy, the bonobos’ roles changed. The males became chest thumpers, the females became timid and submissive.
Throughout this, Bondir and his team were developing the human version of the chemical. Now, they were ready to test the human version on people.
Bondir had long grown disenchanted with the project, and at Hufnagel’s urging, had approached an animal rights activist on the Internet and, wary of a trap, used anonymized E-mail and encoding. That animal rights activist was Dewey. Bondir, whom Morton trusted, arranged a meeting with Dewey and Hufnagel in the city. Hufnagel only went to the city when accompanied by Bondir, because Morton didn’t quite trust Hufnagel. The cover story was they were going in for a couple of days of much-needed R&R, shopping, hookers, movies, and so forth.
They took the formula with them after destroying the copy in the lab computer. Bondir was worried because Morton told him I’d been asking questions of him and Mandervan about the Man of the Future, and Dewey was supposed to look into it.
Before their meeting with Dewey, they had drinks with Benny Winter, at his insistence. Again, Bondir was asked if he knew anything about this reporter, Robin Hudson.
“Winter must have slipped something into our drinks, because when we left, we both felt woozy. We cabbed it to the meeting place, and as soon as we got there, we asked Dewey about you,” Hufnagel said. “He made a phone call to your office at ANN, but you had just left for a dinner meeting at Wingate’s.”
It turned out Winter had had Bondir and Hufnagel followed, and before they could exchange any further information, they were jumped by thugs. Bondir was grabbed, Hufnagel got away after being knocked in the head.
“Dewey was taking a beating,” Hufnagel said. “They probably would have killed him and grabbed me, but a passerby came along and started shouting. They caught up with me though, just after I found you.”
“You were pretty out of it.”
“I was drugged,” he said.
“And Bondir? How did he die?”
“They had him in the car when they grabbed me. We were on a boat, coming back to Tweak Island, and Luc Bondir got away, jumped over the side. The boat went back to look for him, but they didn’t find the body.”
“I’m glad you’re alive,” I said. “I was worried about you.”
“They’ve kept me alive just to reconstruct the formula and oversee the manufacturing. I’ve had no choice. They threatened to kill the chimps if I didn’t cooperate. During the day, I work in the lab under strict supervision. At night, they lock me up in here.”
“The bonobos are still alive?”
“Yes. Morton wanted to kill them. Mandervan wants to keep them alive and use them for further experiments. They make excellent test animals because they’re so close to humans genetically.”
“Why am I still alive?”
“They’re planning to test the Adam I on you. That’s not all. They are planning a secret field test Saturday, at the women’s conference.”
“That’s the last day. Oh jeez, my CEO is giving a speech that day. And tonight some people … What time is it?”
“I’m not sure. It’s nighttime, maybe ten P.M. I’m just guessing. They don’t let me wear a watch anymore.”
The door opened and two goons came in with plates of food. After unshackling us, they watched as we ate a dinner of lean beef, potatoes, and broccoli on a plastic plate with plastic tableware. My stomach felt queasy.
“Eat a little,” Hufnagel said. “Keep your strength up.”
A little was all I was able to eat.
When I asked the guards to let me use a bathroom, they escorted me to a small facility adjacent to the room where we were being held. The guy in the lab coat who had given me the truth serum earlier made me answer some questions about my menstrual cycle, then gave me a plastic cup before he permitted me to empty my bladder.
“Please bring me your urine when you are finished,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
He did not answer.
After I was done, I was given another shot. I don’t know what it was, but when I got back to my cell, I passed out.
When I came to, sometime in the middle of the night, all the cells in the room were full. Each held a member of the team sent to liberate the bonobos. Jason was in a cell across from me and number twenty was next to him. They’d all been captured, all except Blue Baker. They were all unconscious.
Despite this, all was not lost, I thought. Blue Baker was still out there somewhere. Someone would notice my absence, surely. Someone would come looking.
CHAPTER TWENTY
In the morning, Hufnagel was gone and the others were still passed out in their cells. I was taken into a bright, clinical room, told to strip, and given a paper gown to wear. Two attendants strapped me to a gurney and left me there. It was hot, and I was sweating. Every now and then some guy in a lab coat would spritz water into my mouth or scrape sweat off me with a paper strip, which he then dropped into a jar.
After the first hour, I thought I was going to lose whatever was left of my mind. I tried to stay alert by observing my surroundings, looking for a chink in the armor. I found none.
Fresh, cool air began to blow into the room. And then, the strangest feeling came over me, a feeling of relaxation, calm, acceptance. I felt quite good actually, my fate resigned, and if I’d been thinking clearly, I probably would have realized I was being affected by the Adam I.
Soon, the lab coats returned to scrape more sweat off me, spritz more water into my mouth, and stick a big needle in my arm.
“What is that for?” I asked.
“We are feeding you intravenously,” a lab coat said, and wouldn’t answer any of my other questions.
Jason was the only person there when the goons brought me back to the room of cells.
“Hi,” he said. It was weird, after dealing with him dressed as a woman for some time, to now see him back in male mode.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“They moved them to another part of the building,” Jason said. “I don’t know where. They’ve been using us as lab animals.”
“Me too. How’d they capture you guys?” I asked, not wanting to admit that I was the one who had given them away.
“We were about to break in and begin the liberation when they caught us.”
“How come you didn’t cancel the liberation after I went missing?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? We thought you were dead. We heard a news report that you were killed in an explosion. Then we heard you weren’t dead, but you were in critical condition and unable to speak. So we decided to seize the day, go through with the operation, as everything was in place for it.”
“You heard I was dead? Oh fuck. Miss Trix. They grabbed her to use as a decoy for me, buy them some time.”
“Poor Miss Trix,” Jason said.
“Don’t feel too sorry for her. At least she’s in a hospital somewhere getting good drugs,” I said. “Someone will find us. Blue is still out there.”
“Maybe,” Jason said, but didn’t sound hopeful. They’d probably given him truth serum too, and he’d told them about Blue. For all we knew, Blue was somewhere in this complex, being dosed with mind-a
ltering chemicals.
“You must have left notes or something somewhere.”
“We don’t leave records or information of liberations behind, in case the police find them. People go to jail for animal liberations, Robin. It’s a crime, trespassing, breaking and entering, theft, vandalism …”
“So theoretically, nobody knows we’re here.”
He nodded glumly.
Dinner, the same meal I’d had the day before, came, and a guard watched us while we ate, wouldn’t let us talk. More needles were given and Jason and I both fell asleep before Hufnagel returned.
The next morning I went to the lab again, sweated, gave blood and urine, and had my vital signs monitored as I was gassed with more Adam I. I was out of it most of the time, either asleep because of something they gave me or in that contented state brought on by the Adam I. But there were side effects. After the drug wore off, there was a crash, a cold, gray depression and a headache.
When I came to back in my cell, I was close to out of my mind. I couldn’t remember what day it was; I’d lost track of time completely. My head hurt. I barely ate, and when Hufnagel started to speak to me, I hallucinated that I was at home, in my bed, with my cat, Louise Bryant, and my relatively normal life (all things considered). I passed out again. When I came to, I was clearer. Hufnagel was gone. As I lay there in my cell, it was all I could do not to just burst into tears, like a girl.
Sometime later, I woke up, and someone was standing over me with a gun.
Behind the gunman were two other dark figures, both with guns. This is it, the firing squad, I thought. This seemed as good a time to scream as any, but before I could, I saw the two dark figures stick the guns to the throats of the guards.
“You are under arrest by the global police of the Organization,” said one of the camouflaged figures to the guards. Two more camouflaged figures entered, followed by Reb Ryan, who had a small video camera. I’d never been so happy to be scooped, even by Reb Ryan.
A tall man in camouflage makeup came forward. “Thank God you’re alive, Robin. I heard you were dead, darlin’. We don’t have much time,” he said. It was Blue Baker. “Morton has helicopter patrols over this place every hour and the sun is going to come up soon. We have to get everyone out before the chopper passes over again. Put these on.”
He handed us black jumpsuits. Though I’d stripped in front of strangers several times recently, I made them turn around while I changed.
Hufnagel and Blue led the way through a series of tunnels to the area where the other liberators were being held. We waited in the hallway, until Jason, number twenty, and the rest came out, followed by Reb and a number of other camouflaged men. Some of these men, I later learned, were old sanitation cop buddies of Blue’s. The others were army intelligence friends of Reb’s. Once again, the old boys’ network was coming to the rescue.
“The bonobos?” Blue said to Hufnagel.
“This way. There are two guards, armed, inside that room. That’s where the bonobos are held.”
“Two guards,” whispered Reb. “Piece of cake. When I give the signal, Jason, you and Blue tie up the guards. Then the rest of you come in, grab as many bonobos as you can.”
The shooters crept into the room. There was the sound of a struggle, things bumping, something being knocked over. A moment later, Jason waved us in. The bonobos were in cages and looked dopey, as if they’d been sedated. Working quickly, we broke open the cages and grabbed a bonobo apiece.
Jason looked into the hallway.
“All clear,” he said.
“We’ll go to the left,” Reb said. “Follow me.”
Our arms full of chimps, we padded carefully down a series of tunnels and up a staircase to a trapdoor. Blue opened it and climbed through, helping the others and the bonobos through. When we were all outside, he pointed to a boat about a hundred yards away across a grassy field and said, “Head for the boat.”
The bonobos slowed us down—they couldn’t run. They just kind of loped awkwardly. We were ten yards from the shore when we heard shouting in the distance behind us. There was shooting.
Don’t trip, I told myself. Get to the boat.
The chimp clung to me. My left foot hit the gangplank and I stumbled and slid, but regained my composure and continued with Jason’s help.
There was a second boat behind ours, with a full-fledged ANN camera crew aboard. When the guards chasing us saw the cameras, they immediately turned tail and ran in the opposite direction. Say what you will about the news media, but it scares the bejesus out of bad guys. The people most afraid of it are the people with the most to hide, nine times out of ten.
Reb said to me, “Take this camera. Record the entire trip into the city. We’re going to call the coast guard and the state police and wait here for them to arrive. And take this tape with you for the afternoon news shows.”
“Thanks, Reb,” I said. Though grateful, it was still hard to get those words up. “Where’s Solange?”
“Had to cut her out of the story. She’s tight with Benny Winter. I couldn’t trust her not to give it away.”
“How did you know we were here?”
“It’s a long story, Robin. Mike told me part of the story, and then Blue Baker contacted me, after the rest of you went missing, and filled in a few of the gaps,” he said, blinking rapidly.
“How did Mike know? All I told him was about the dead Frenchman, Luc Bondir.”
“He knew about the missing bonobos.…”
“I didn’t tell him that.”
“Well, he knew,” Reb said. “Hey, Blue, good job.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Reb,” Blue said.
“I’m going back into the bunker to help finish the job,” Reb said. “We’ve got reinforcements coming.”
He pointed to a number of boats closing in on the island.
“Just a few of my friends, coming to help out,” Reb said, and waved good-bye.
As soon as everyone was aboard our boat, the crew threw off the moorings and pulled up the plank and we pulled away, shifting into high gear so quickly that I and a few others lost our balance and landed on our asses in a pile of chimps.
“Go like God, guys,” Blue shouted at the crew.
“You called Reb Ryan?” I said to him.
“Yeah, when the animal liberation crew didn’t show up.”
“I thought maybe you’d been captured too, Blue.”
“I’m a former undercover sanitation cop. I’m hard to catch,” Blue said, and smiled.
We were away from the island now. Jason and number twenty were, with the assistance of some of the others, trying to keep the chimps in order while Hufnagel sedated them.
“Now what do we do?” I asked Blue.
“There’s a school bus waiting for you on the North Shore,” Blue said. “It’ll take you into the city.”
“What day is it?”
“Saturday.”
“Last day of the women’s conference. Oh shit. That’s when Morton and Mandervan were going to test the Adam bomb on the feminists at the conference! My boss is giving a speech there this afternoon,” I said. “On national television.”
“Here,” Blue said, handing me a cell phone. “Go ahead and make some calls.”
Jack wasn’t anywhere to be found, nor was Dr. Karen Keyes. I left messages everywhere and called the conference center. It was noisy at the conference center. Jack wasn’t there yet, so I asked to speak to the head security guy, explaining that we were on our way to the hotel with a bunch of chimps and that a mood-altering bomb was going to go off there sometime today.
“You’re nuts,” said the security guy, and hung up on me.
“Fuck,” I said. “We’ll have to go straight to the hotel. Keyes will be there, we can give her the chimps, warn everyone about the bomb. I hope we get there in time.”
The sun was coming up. It looked like clear sailing now. One of the animal rights nuts plugged in Johnny Nash, “I Can See Clearly Now.” We al
l had a good nose blower of a cry. I collapsed to the deck with my bonobo in my lap. It chose that moment to take a leak all over me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When we got to the mainland, we were met by a male bus driver and a woman, who smiled at the large chimp urine stain on my clothes and said, “We have diapers for the chimps.”
Too tired to talk beyond agreeing that we had to go to the convention center immediately to find Keyes, we just sat, trying to keep the chimps under control as we headed toward Queens, relieved that the worst was over.
Or so we thought, until we were driving through Queens, around Jackson Heights, and the bus sputtered, slowed down, and broke down. Murphy’s fucking Law.
“What should we do?” Jason asked.
“Fuck. Well, we can try a car service to get another van …” I said.
“What time is the conference finale?” Hufnagel asked.
“The last round of speeches begins around noon,” I said.
“Might take too long for a car service, if they take us at all.”
“Our other choices are the subway or taxis,” I said.
“We can’t take a dozen bonobo chimps on the subway. We’ll have to try taxis. We’re going to need more diapers though,” Hufnagel said. “Jason, there’s a drugstore up here, you buy a bunch of Pampers, and Robin and I will try to get cabs. The rest of you, watch the chimps, okay?”
Even as we were walking down the avenue, looking for cabs, I was thinking that this was like a Letterman bit, i.e., can a handful of disheveled humans and a dozen chimps get a cab in New York City?
The answer? Yes. I got a cab before Hufnagel. Had the guy roll down his window.
“Hi, what’s your name?” I said.
“Pardap.”
“Look, Pardap, this is going to sound nuts, but my friends and I just liberated a bunch of apes, and we need to get them to Manhattan. Can you radio for about five cars to take us into Manhattan? If you do, my boss, Jack Jackson, will pay you a thousand bucks each. I swear to God!”
The Last Manly Man Page 21
