itself.” In the great building, they passed between rows of tall and wide tanks. They could see clearly through the windows and the jelly within.
“Those are African Elephant embryos,” said the biologist. “We plan to grow a large herd and then release them on the new government preserve.” “You positively radiate,” said the distinguished visitor. “You really love the animals, don’t you?” “I love all life.”
“Tell me,” said the visitor, “where do you get the data for recreation?” “Mostly, skeletons and skins from the ancient museums. Excavated books and films that we succeeded in restoring and then translating. Ah, see those huge eggs? The chicks of the giant moa are growing within them. There, almost ready to be taken from the tank, are tiger cubs. They’ll be dangerous when grown but will be confined to the preserve.”
The visitor stopped before the last of the tanks. “Just one?” he said. “What is it?” “Poor little thing,” said the biologist, now sad. “It will be so alone. But I shall give it all the love I have.” “Is it so dangerous?” said the visitor. “Worse than elephants, tigers, and bears?” “I had to get special permission to grow this one,” said the biologist. His voice quavered. The visitor stepped sharply back from the tank. He said, “Then it must be… But you wouldn’t dare!” The biologist nodded. “Yes. It’s a man.”
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The Classic Philip Jose Farmer 1952-1964 Page 23
