Chromosome 6 by Robin Cook Page A

Zone's electric power was the most reliable in the entire country, it did go off on rare occasions because of lightning strikes.
Most people, especially visitors from GenSys, assumed the skulls were from apes. Bertram knew differently. They were human skulls of people executed by the Equatoguinean soldiers. All three of the victims had been convicted of the capital offense of interfering with GenSys operations. In actuality, they had been caught poaching wild chimps on the Zone's designated hundred-square-mile land. Siegfried considered the area his own private hunting reserve. Years previously, when Bertram had gently questioned the wisdom of displaying the skulls, Siegfried had responded by saying that they kept the native workers on their toes. "It's the kind of communication they comprehend," Siegfried had explained. "They understand such symbols." Bertram didn't wonder that they got the message. Especially in a country which had suffered the

atrocities of a diabolically cruel dictator. Bertram always remembered Kevin's response to the skulls.
Kevin had said that they reminded him of the deranged character Kurtz in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
"There," Siegfried said, pushing the signed papers aside. With his accent it sounded more like "zair." "What's on your mind, Bertram? I hope you don't have a problem with the new bonobos." "Not at all. The two breeding females are perfect," Bertram said. He eyed the Zone's site boss. His most obvious physical trait was a grotesque scar that ran from beneath his left ear, down across his cheek, and under his nose. Over the years its gradual contraction had pulled up the corner of Siegfried's mouth in a perpetual sneer.
Bertram did not technically report to Siegfried. As the chief vet of the world's largest primate research and breeding facility, Bertram dealt directly with a GenSys senior vice president of operations back in Cambridge, Massachusetts, who had direct access to Taylor Cabot. But on a day-to-day basis, particularly in relation to the bonobo project, it was in Bertram's best interest to maintain a cordial working relationship with the site boss. The problem was, Siegfried was short-tempered and difficult to deal with.
He'd started his African career as a white hunter, who, for a price, could get a client anything he wanted. Such a reputation required a move from East Africa to West Africa, where game laws were less rigidly enforced. Siegfried had built up a large organization, and things went well until some trackers failed him in a crucial situation, resulting in his being mauled by an enormous bull elephant and the client couple being killed.
The episode ended Siegfried's career as a white hunter. It also left him with his facial scar and a paralyzed right arm. The extremity hung limp and useless from its shoulder connection. Rage over the incident had made him a bitter and vindictive man. Still, GenSys had recognized his bush-based organizational skills, his knowledge of animal behavior, and his heavy-handed but effectual way of dealing with the indigenous African personality. They thought he was the perfect individual to run their multimillion-dollar African operation. "There's another wrinkle with the bonobo operation," Bertram said. "Is this new concern in addition to the weird worry of yours that the apes have divided into two groups?" Siegfried asked superciliously.
"Recognizing a change in social organization is a damn, legitimate concern!" Bertram said, his color rising.
"So you said," Siegfried remarked. "But I've been thinking about it, and I can't imagine it matters. What do we care if they hang out in one group or ten? All we want them to do is stay put and stay healthy." "I disagree," Bertram said. "Splitting up suggests they are not getting along. That would not be typical bonobo behavior, and it could spell trouble down the road." "I'll let you, the professional, worry about it," Siegfried said. He leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked. "I