Sydney retrieved a pair and then stood up through the sunroof. A cool evening breeze blew through her sandy blonde hair as she brought the binoculars up to her eyes. She watched as the animals sent water cascading down over their heads, then re-submerged their trunks for more. There seemed to be about twenty of them, relatively small for a herd. Sydney counted seven wading in the water while the rest either took mud baths on the shore or relaxed in the nearby grass.
They began to roll forward again and Sydney dropped back down into her seat. Chang was still looking at the elephants while Courtney tried to spot other animals out her window, scanning the landscape with her binoculars.
“Something’s over there,” she announced. Sydney leaned over to get closer to the open window. Looking through her own set of field glasses, she saw a herd of wildebeest grazing off in the distance.
“Let’s find something a little more exciting, shall we?” Sans said.
It was another five minutes before they spotted anything else. Chang pointed at something off to the left and Sydney climbed back up through the sunroof to spy a herd of Thomson’s gazelle running through the fields. To her, there was something fascinating about the way the brown creatures undulated in and out of the tall grass, moving in unison like a school of fish.
By now, the sun was much lower in the sky. Sydney guessed they had no more than fifteen minutes left before it set.
Ramsay turned to Sans. “We’d better get back soon.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“The dark–”
“I said it’ll be fine,” Sans hissed. It was the first time Sydney had noticed a change from his cheery mood, but he immediately regained it a second later as he looked back at the rest of them. “There’s just something I’d still like us to see…”
Ten minutes later, beneath the last vestiges of the twilight, Sydney climbed up to the sunroof with the others and brought the binoculars to her eyes once more.
“Can you see them?” Sans was asking.
“I think…there, yes I see them!” Courtney said. “My god, they’re beautiful.”
Chang was silent but smiling as she gazed on with her own lenses. She clearly saw them too. Sydney didn’t, and as she frantically swept the landscape, her shoulders tensed up. If she wasn’t careful, she would miss–
There.
Just over five hundred feet away, a lioness raised her head. For a moment, she gave Sydney a great view of her majestic profile, then the animal looked towards the Land Rover and the sunset briefly glinted off one of her golden eyes. She wasn’t alone either. Sydney saw several others in the grass nearby, including a male with its magnificent mane.
“How’d you know we’d find them?” Chang asked.
Beside her, Sans pointed down to the GPS on the console screen as he leaned against the frame of the vehicle. “All the animals here are embedded with microchips. None of our views this evening were by chance.”
Far away, the orange sun slipped beneath the plains.
Ramsay climbed up from his seat and turned to Sans. “Sir, we need to leave now.”
Sans looked back in the direction of the lions without answering. Then after a moment, he silently nodded, his expression completely calm. Ramsay got back into the driver’s seat and the Land Rover turned around, heading south. The second car, twenty feet away, followed suit. Sydney watched the pride through her binoculars for as long as she could, then she dropped back into her seat and relaxed the rest of the way back, taking in the cool evening breeze as it flowed in through the sunroofs and the windows.
The vehicles pulled into the garage just as the remaining faint glimpses of light faded from the sky.
FEAST
The dining room had already been prepared when they arrived. The table was set with silverware and wine glasses; two unopened bottles of champagne sat in ice buckets beside a few baskets of bread. Outside the windows, the night was too dark to see anything. Sans took a seat at the head of the table with Chang and Ramsay joining him on either side. Sydney sat between Chang and Andy and across from Courtney while Brandon sat across from Andy. Jones found himself alone beside Brandon.
A servant emerged from the kitchen, dressed in a white uniform, and filled their glasses with water from a steel pitcher.
Sans folded his hands on the table and said, “Thank you all for coming. I occasionally get zoologists that come in and stay for a few days or a few of my old hunting friends, but for the most part it gets quite lonely here.” He smiled, almost as if were a joke.
“Then how come you never leave?” came a voice from the other end of the table. Sydney turned to see Jones staring at him with a steely gaze.
Sans seemed caught off guard by the remark. His eyes narrowed and his head tilted quizzically for a brief moment, then he laughed it off. “You’ve all seen the natural wonders I have at my fingertips every day. If you had access to that, would you ever leave?”
Sydney realized she probably wouldn’t.
“Lacking a good reason, of course,” Sans added.
“I can think of several,” Jones said, forcing a smile.
Sans’s brow furrowed. “Then perhaps later you can enlighten me.” He turned his attention to the interns. “Everything we do here is one hundred percent powered by renewable energy. You’ve seen the wind turbines, perhaps a few of you even glimpsed the solar panels mounted on the roof. Contrary to popular belief, I’m very committed to sustainability and the environment. Last year, the Sans Conservation Fund donated a million dollars to Serengeti National Park.”
Another server came out and opened one of the champagne bottles. He started around the table, pouring the women’s glasses first, then the men’s ending with Sans as they continued talking.
“How does that conflict with hunting?” Jones asked. “I mean, isn’t that the very thing all the eco-warriors want to stop?”
Now he appeared to be getting on Sans’s nerves. “That’s a common mistake, actually. I’m almost disappointed that someone of your intellect would fall for such a rampant misconception, Richard. Hunting isn’t damaging to the ecosystem. Poaching is the illegal killing of protected animals and it is very much a problem that we environmentalists are trying to stop, yes. Hunting is a sport. It requires permits, licenses. It is measured. And in many cases, it assists population control during a natural predator-prey imbalance. Besides, what I hunt here has no bearing beyond this reserve.” He smiled. “All my animals are cloned.”
“All of them?” Courtney asked, stunned.
Sans nodded. “We started growing them here in artificial wombs about five years ago as a proof of concept for investors. All the DNA was taken from species in captivity. Now those same technologies are being put towards everything from new limbs for amputees to optimized dog breeding.”
“You said you grew them here?” Andy asked.
“At the veterinary lab building. It’s a few hundred feet that way.” He gestured behind him. “You probably couldn’t see it from the patio earlier because it’s obscured by trees. But that’s where all the scientific research around here gets done. The facilities are state-of-the-art. You’ll see soon enough; each of you will be doing some work there over the next two weeks.”
“Forgive me,” Jones said. “But even if they’re clones, I don’t see how that justifies killing them for fun. They’re still living things, after all.”
Sans sipped his champagne. “Hunting is not about slaughtering animals or satisfying a bloodlust, it’s about the challenge. I apologize for the cliché, but it’s the thrill, the excitement that makes it unique. Your life is on the line and suddenly everything you’ve been raised with – academics, social skills, you name it – aren’t going to help you. It taps into a different part of the brain, the primal survival instincts we’ve buried deep in our subconscious. Every day, we deny they’re there. Hunting, big-game hunting, is one of the few activities on Earth that still has the power to remind us what we really are.”
“And what’s that
?” Chang asked, holding her glass.
“Predators.” He glanced around the table. “I can see there’s some uneasiness here. Let me clarify: Homo sapiens is a predatory species. Look no further than these.” He pointed towards his eyes with two fingers. “Notice how they are forward-facing. Just like a lion’s, just like a wolf’s, or a bear’s, or an eagle’s. Have you ever wondered why herbivorous animals such as deer and gazelle have their eyes towards the side of their heads? It’s so they can more easily spot an attack coming. Predators have their vision facing forward to track their prey. We are built for the offensive.”
Several servants came out of the kitchen carrying plates while a black man wearing a chef’s hat, who Sydney guessed must be Fatou, oversaw their actions. As one was put down in front of her, she saw it was cooked wildebeest with sides of rice and green beans neatly arranged on the bone china’s surface.
Sans continued talking as they returned to the kitchen to retrieve more plates. “Despite our species hunting for food for ninety-nine percent of our existence, you’ve no doubt heard some stuck-up asshole tell you we are now more evolved than that. Take a quick look at the latest trends and you’ll clearly see we’re not.”
He didn’t even bother looking at his plate when it was placed before him. “What really irks me is that people constantly rail against hunting, yet give eco-tourism a pass. I suppose it makes sense; hunting is an easy target and people just want to feel good about themselves regardless of them actually making a difference or not. And yet all over the world, people travel to places of natural beauty from Africa to Costa Rica to the Great Barrier Reef and wind up damaging and disrupting the ecosystem just to catch a glimpse of some rare animals. This creates entire industries of people developing land in these areas and driving boats out to reefs, which all wind up destroying habitats, polluting them, or otherwise impacting the migration patterns of thousands of species – but one fucking dentist shoots a lion and the entire goddamn Internet gets set ablaze!”
The z at the end came out with a lisp. Sans suddenly clenched up, squeezing his eyes tightly. He muttered something under his breath but all Sydney could make out was “…stupid, fucking…” before he snapped out of it and returned to a more amicable demeanor. “Clearly I haven’t had enough wine yet.”
Everyone began eating their food and small talk broke out in groups. The rest of the meal passed uneventfully, but Sydney saw Jones silently glancing at Sans from time to time with an uneasy look.
After dinner, Ramsay took the interns upstairs to show them to their rooms; Sans, Chang, and Jones needed to discuss “business”. Sydney’s was located at the northwestern corner and had a queen-sized bed, a mahogany desk, and a bathroom. There were also two windows, one facing north and the other west. Her suitcase had been brought in by the staff earlier and now sat on the bed.
The first thing she did was move it to the desk and lie down atop the sheets, all the jet lag from earlier swiftly returning. It had vaporized during her initial excitement of arriving at the lodge and the subsequent safari, but now all she could think of was sleep.
She figured she should at least brush her teeth and found the willpower to get up and shuffle over to the desk. After finding her toothbrush in her toiletry kit, she turned to walk to the bathroom when something caught her eye out of the western window.
Curious, Sydney went over and pressed her face against the glass pane, trying to make out anything in the black night. Off through some nearby trees, she could discern the lights of a building. After a moment, she realized it must be the veterinary lab that Sans was talking about earlier. Still, something seemed odd about it, like a series of disembodied illuminations in the forest. Were people working there at this hour?
She needed some sleep. Turning away from the window, she headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. A few minutes later she turned off the lights and tucked herself under the sheets. She was dozing off when a strange noise reached her ears and her eyes flashed open.
It had come from the north. She couldn’t be certain, but it had sounded like the roar of a lion – but not like any kind of lion she’d ever heard. The pitch seemed off and it sounded unnerving, chilling her to the bone. Even stranger, it sounded fairly close by.
FIELD WORK
“Today, the real fun begins,” Sans said, walking into the dining room just as Sydney took another sip of orange juice. “I hope nobody’s too jet lagged.”
She had slept like a rock and had woken up at 8:30. Realizing she had slept for nearly eleven hours, she had quickly gotten dressed and ran downstairs to see that breakfast was already being served: scrambled eggs and toast. Andy, Courtney, and Brandon were already there.
“Only a little,” Courtney joked.
“We have plenty of coffee if anyone needs it. After you’ve eaten, you’ll be split into two pairs. One will head out into the field every day to insert the latest microchip iteration into the animals, the other will work in the lab to analyze the field data as it comes in. Then next week, you’ll switch positions.” Sans glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a call in five minutes. I’ll catch you around later.”
He turned and left the room as Ramsay walked in, stopping at the end of the table with his trademark military posture. “Sydney, Brandon, you’ll be on the tagging operation with me this week. Dress for the outdoors and come to the garage; it’s over eighty degrees outside. Andy, Courtney, you’ll meet Dr. Makimba in the foyer and she’ll take you to the laboratory building. Get where you’re supposed to be in ten minutes.” He walked off.
As she finished her breakfast, Sydney felt nervous. She had hoped she’d be put with Andy in the event of a pairing; she barely knew Brandon at all. She drained the last of her orange juice and returned upstairs to her room.
Now dressed in boots, khaki shorts, and a safari jacket over a white tank top, Sydney entered the garage to see Ramsay and Brandon next to the nearest Land Rover, talking to a stern-looking red-haired woman wearing dark blue scrubs.
Brandon saw her and held up a small pill bottle as she walked over. “Guess what Sydney? We get more meds!” There was a heavy dose of sarcasm in his voice.
In a similar tone, she said, “Oh joy,” as a smile came to her face. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Ramsay gestured to the woman beside him. “This is Nurse Graves. She’s here to give both of you your new antimalarial medication.”
“But I’m already on doxycycline,” she said, looking between them. “I started taking it two days before we left the States.”
“Yes, but doxycycline makes you highly susceptible to sun exposure, which wouldn’t be suitable for your field work this week, now would it?” Graves said. Something about the way she talked reminded Sydney of a patronizing teacher she’d had in the sixth grade.
“I guess not,” she said as the nurse handed her the container. She glanced it over in her hands. The label read:
PRIMAQUINE PHOSPHATE
TABLETS, USP
23.6 mg (=15 mg base)
Rx ONLY
15 tablets
She’d heard of primaquine before. It was one of the most common drugs used for malaria prevention. Ramsay held out a steel-gray water bottle with the SansCorp logo emblazoned on the side. “Take it with this,” he said. She took out one of the round tablets and popped it into her mouth, swallowing it with a swig from the bottle.
“Excellent,” Graves said, grabbing the pills out of her hand. She made her way over to Brandon to collect his. “I’ll leave these in your rooms. Make sure to take one every morning after breakfast. You might get an upset stomach if you take it without food.”
As the nurse headed for the door back to the rest of the lodge, Ramsay turned his attention to a silver case sitting on the hood of the Land Rover. He opened it up to reveal some kind of sleek medical injector gun sitting atop padded white foam. “This is the transmission mechanism for the new Mark VII chips, which are here.” He pointed to ten slots in the foam with cylindrical metal
devices each no bigger than a grain of rice. “They are to be placed at the back of the neck along the spinal cord, and are much better at monitoring impulses along the central nervous system than the Mark VIs. All the information gets directly transmitted to our computers in the vet labs, where your friends will be monitoring it all week. First, the animal has to be tranquilized. That will be my job. Then I will show you how to perform the procedure.”
He closed up the case. “There’s sunblock in the car. You’re going to need it.”
Sydney stared out the window at the passing plains as she slathered Neutrogena SPF 70 onto the back of her neck. She was excited to be getting back out into the savanna. The wonders of last evening’s safari were still fresh on her mind.
“After all those shots we got before the trip, here I was thinking we were done,” Brandon joked.
“I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“True. I’m just worried about the side effects. With all these vaccines and medications over a short time, the likelihood that they’ll interact is quite high.”
“What kind of side effects?” she asked.
“Just about everything from mild nausea to death.” He smiled.
“Hopefully not,” she laughed. “I’d like to keep enjoying this place.”
He looked out his window. “It really is quite something…”
Ramsay pointed to the touch-panel on the center console. “Those red dots are gazelle. Those are what we’re going after first.”
A few minutes later, he parked the car under the shade of an acacia tree and retracted the sunroofs. In the passenger seat was a long-range tranquilizer rifle. Ramsay stood up through the opening and rested the gun on the roof’s lighting rig. Sydney and Brandon climbed up to the rear sunroof to get a better look.
Safari: A Technothriller Page 3
