by John Koloen
“Why not, Dr. Duncan?” Winston asked. “Couldn’t we just move the tanks while we install the new habitat?”
“How are we gonna get the bugs into the new habitat?” Chang asked.
“The new one has those ports and stuff.”
“The tanks don’t.”
“We’d have to find a way,” Duncan said.
“I have an idea,” Boyd said. “We could use a cart at the same height as the tanks and kinda just slide them on it.”
“And then what?” Duncan asked.
“We could find another room, you know, where we could slide them onto benches or tables and let ’em sit there while we install the habitat in our lab.”
The room was silent for a moment as they considered Boyd’s proposal.
“But how do we get them out of the tanks and into the habitat?” Chang asked. “I mean, we can’t open them without them jumping all over us.”
“What we could do,” Boyd said hesitantly, his thought not fully formed, “we could put a tank into a larger container that we cut a port into with a gate so that we can connect it to the habitat and maybe we could get them to crawl inside.”
“And how do we get them to do that?”
“Food, bait. We could put some meat just inside the habitat. They’d go after it, don’t you think?”
“You know, that could work, couldn’t it?” Winston said.
Duncan cleared his throat.
“How would you get them out of the tank once it’s in this other container?” Duncan asked.
“I don’t know. It’s glass. We could maybe drop the container if its sturdy enough,” Boyd said.
“Or we could cut a hole on top and drop something on the glass top,” Chang said.
“And then cover up the hole, right?” Winston said.
Duncan shook his head.
“There are too many steps,” he said. “What if, while you’re wheeling a tank into another room, something happens and it breaks? We can’t risk it.”
“I think you’re right, boss,” Boyd said.
“Yeah, it’s not a workable idea,” Chang said. “It was just a thought.”
Duncan was pleased that his assistants were engaged in their work and seeking solutions, even though they were unrealistic. The last thing he wanted to see was blaberus flying freely anywhere, so their suggestions were non-starters. With the third generation nearly upon them, they needed to find another way to contain them or figure out how to kill them. At the same time, he had to fulfill Dr. Thomas’s demand for an adult female. The only one that was isolated from other adults was the specimen he’d collected in Brazil. Since giving birth a second time, it had been separated from her offspring for a second time and now resided in a five-gallon aquarium.
“I was hoping to dissect it but I wanna get Thomas off my back. You know what I’d like to do?” Duncan asked Boyd following the meeting.
Boyd shrugged
“What do you think of just picking up that tank and handing it over to Thomas?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not gonna carry that across the building to his lab. What if I—”
“You’re right, I’m kidding. Looking at it right now, she’s under the leaves as usual. Let’s get a specimen box and put her in there. If you’re worried about it, I’ll carry it over.”
“I’m not worried, just cautious. I got no problem with that. The plastic won’t break and it’s not bulky.”
Together, wearing gloves, they retrieved the female, Boyd removing the small aquarium’s lid and Duncan clasping the bug and its lair of leaves and sticks in his hands, shaking them to disorient her before gently pressing the pile into the bottom of the container and holding it there long enough for Boyd to attach the lid, sealing it with a satisfying click.
“Good work,” Duncan said as he met Boyd’s high five. “Now get it over to Thomas. I hope he doesn’t ask for another.”
43
DIVISION ADMINISTRATOR GABRIEL Cox was elated when he received a call from the company manufacturing Duncan’s custom blaberus habitat. Half of the habitat was finally ready for shipment. It could be delivered the next morning by truck from San Antonio. Duncan was not happy.
“What good is half of a habitat?” he asked Cox as they met in the administrator’s office. Duncan wore a lab coat while Cox was dressed in his usual uniform of white shirt, red tie and khaki slacks.
“What I was told was that the second half would be ready in a week. Something to do with a connector linking the two halves together. Apparently it cracked when they tested the entire assembly.”
“So which half?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters,” Duncan said. “It’s a U-shape. But it’s designed in smaller sections that connect to each other. The biggest piece is about four feet long. If I remember the schematics correctly, the part you’re talking about is at the end of the section that would be on the left, facing the U. And that’s a little more than a third of it rather than a half.”
“Really, doctor, is it that important? I could insist they deliver the entire habitat, damaged part and all and you could work it out.”
“No, I don’t want that. We’re not fabricators. And this needs to work like it’s supposed to.”
“Well, then, you’ll accept delivery?”
“Yes, at least we can get started.”
“Exactly,” Cox grinned.
44
THE HABITAT ARRIVED late in the day Friday. Boyd, who had planned to spend the weekend with Carolyn McKenzie, frowned as Duncan told his staff they’d have to work Saturday. Jake Winston and Malcolm Chang were excited to see the stack of shipping crates piled in the lab’s small lobby. Like a kid on Christmas, Chang asked if they could open the crates immediately.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it’s already been a long day. I’d rather we start in the morning when we’re all fresh. Besides, let’s not forget that the third generation will arrive in the next week or so, and that takes precedence.”
For the most part, Boyd sulked after Duncan announced they would be working Saturday, his eyes on the lobby wall clock. McKenzie was waiting for him in the parking lot, expecting a weekend together. Duncan asked if there were any questions.
“What time?” Boyd asked grumpily.
“Eight o’clock works for me,” Duncan said. “Tell you what, I’ll get breakfast tacos from the cafeteria.”
Chang and Winston exchanged fist bumps. Boyd sighed and left in a hurry.
“Anybody know what’s wrong with Cody?” Duncan asked as he watched his assistant jog down the hall.
“He had a date with his girlfriend,” Chang said as he examined the wood crates, glimpsing the contents through seams between planks.
“Smells like puke,” he said, backing away.
“That’s acrylic for you,” Winston said.
45
CAROLYN MCKENZIE WAS upset that her boyfriend was upset. Yes, they’d planned to spend the weekend together, but she understood that work came first at Biodynamism. Boyd was crabby during the ride to her converted school bus, complaining about his boss and his job. She’d hoped he would be in a better mood by the time they’d arrived, but that didn’t happen until he announced that he felt like quitting.
“What good is that going to do?” she asked. “You’ve been here like what, five months and already you’re giving up? That won’t look good on your résumé.”
“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just that I was looking forward to being with you and now I can’t.”
“You’re with me now.”
Looking at her, sitting across from her in the bus’s tiny lounge, he grinned.
“You’re right,” he said, glancing outside at the wooded surroundings. “I guess I can’t see the forest for the trees.”
“That’s better,” she said happily. “You’re a lot more fun to be around when you aren’t moping. If I thought you were a moper, I
wouldn’t spend five minutes with you.”
Boyd’s face brightened. Like anyone, he was subject to moments of intense dissatisfaction, but his natural optimism was never far from the surface. All it took to bring it out was a little encouragement. Just being in Carolyn’s presence was a gift. His feelings for her had deepened ever since they’d met. His previous relationship had fallen victim to distance and lack of commitment. It had started several weeks before he went to Brazil with Duncan on his first expedition. It was more a matter of convenience, two ships passing in the night. But his feelings for Carolyn were different. A photo of her greeted him every time he used his phone or laptop. He felt so good when they were together. Holding her hand, walking in the woods, sharing lunch made him feel so close that he could think of no words to describe it, other than love.
Watching her as she prepared dinner in the tiny galley, he couldn’t resist the desire to hold her. Rising from the bench seat, he stepped behind her in the narrow passageway, wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “I love you.”
“I know,” she said, leaning against him. “And I love you.”
46
DUNCAN, CHANG, AND Winston were already in the lab, preparing to move aquaria around to make room for the habitat. It was after nine o’clock and the tacos were gone. The cafeteria’s taco station was a busy place every morning, even on Saturdays. Boyd craved flour tortillas and the spicy concoction that filled them. He always ordered them with extra cheese.
“You’re late,” Duncan said, making a point of it.
“I know,” Boyd said, hungry and disappointed. “You didn’t leave any for me?”
“Sorry,” Duncan said unconvincingly, his attention fixed on supervising Chang and Winston as they cleared space on one of the lab’s long benches.
The two had cleared the black, epoxy resin surface and were preparing to move a twenty-nine-gallon aquarium from across the room. Both were nervous as they contemplated the outcome should something go wrong. They would have four chances to fail. Normally, moving an aquarium across a room was a straightforward matter. One simply had to concentrate enough to avoid dropping it or banging it against something. The task was complicated by the fact that it took both of them to carry a single tank, increasing the odds of tripping, which Winston had addressed by sweeping the floor twice, as if small bits of dust and minuscule debris could cause either one of them to fall to his knees. But he wasn’t taking any chances.
Both were surprised as they prepared to lift the first tank as the adult specimens burst into the open, seeming to attack the glass where they had placed their hands. Both stepped away as if by electric shock. Duncan, who watched them closely, understood the fear that they felt. Reptilus blaberus was nothing to be trifled with, and they knew it.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said helpfully. “They can’t get out.”
Chang and Winston looked at each other, smiling self-consciously, hesitating as if waiting for the other to take the lead.
“Wait a minute,” Duncan said. “Let me and Cody do the first one.”
The two assistants stepped back quickly, relieved.
Boyd, who’d been nursing his dissatisfaction at having to work on an empty stomach, joined Duncan. The insects immediately started scratching at the glass where the two men began to lift the aquarium.
“Watch how we’re doing this,” Duncan said. “See how we’re grabbing it from the bottom edges and sliding it off the bench. We’re not lifting it so much as just holding it.”
“I think I can feel them scratching through the glass,” Boyd said, forgetting about his hunger. “It’s a weird sensation.”
With each of them holding the aquarium by one end, both of them facing the same direction, they shuffled slowly across the room, where they slowly slid it across the black top.
“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Duncan said.
“No, sir,” Chang said.
As Duncan and Boyd stepped aside, Chang and Winston approached the second tank, focusing on mimicking what Duncan and Boyd had done.
“Do you mind if I go to the cafeteria?” Boyd whispered. “I’m really hungry. All I had to eat last night was a squash casserole, and I hate squash.”
“OK, after they’ve finished. I want you around just in case.”
47
THE THIRD COHORT started to arrive over the weekend, not long after Duncan and his assistants had assembled the partial habitat. It had gone together quickly, as it was a simple matter of connecting the four sections. Each was joined by a pair of tubes that snapped into place. The main sections were heavy and bulky but easy to situate, so the work was done so quickly that the lab filled with the stench of the acrylic, which didn’t dissipate until Duncan ran the lab’s ventilation system at full blast.
Even with less than half of the habitat installed, Duncan and his assistants could see how it would make their jobs easier. The gates, tubes and interior partitions would allow them to funnel the insects where they wanted them. Unfortunately, the layout was useless without the missing parts. He had designed it in such a way that the end section could serve as an execution chamber. A portion of the bottom was hinged so that it could be opened and the dead insects swept into a container that would be emptied in the company’s incinerator. The gate that opened into the last section included a rubber gasket that sealed it off from the rest of the habitat. A small port on the top could be used to insert an insecticide into the two-by-three-foot acrylic box. Although he had not run tests, Duncan believed off-the-shelf insecticides would suffice to kill the insects. All he needed to gain control of the burgeoning colony was the remainder of the habitat.
Duncan had kept Gabriel Cox informed about the growing blaberus population as well as reminding him frequently about the importance of the habitat. For his part, Cox had contacted the fabricator multiple times, the only result being delivery of less than half the system.
“You know, Gabe, as I’ve told you before, we’re facing a crisis,” Duncan said, sitting in Cox’s office. “The third generation started arriving over the weekend. After next week we’ll have something like twenty thousand of them spread out in a bunch of fish tanks.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but if worse comes to worse, you can kill off some of the tanks,” Cox said. “You don’t need twenty thousand specimens, do you?”
“No,” Duncan said quietly. “But I’m not in charge of how often they breed.”
“So, kill all but one of the tanks. That’ll leave you with plenty of specimens to dissect and whatever.”
“You don’t understand, we can’t just reach in and grab one. Each of the tanks has upwards of a hundred adults. All of them are looking for a way out and they cooperate in ways we don’t yet understand. If we kill them off, we may never know.”
“That’s your problem, Dr. Duncan,” Cox said, dismissively. “Look, I want to help you. You don’t think I’m not frustrated by those idiots in San Antonio? But I’ve done everything I can to get your habitat delivered, but they always have an excuse. Something broke, something cracked, whatever. I’m afraid if I threaten to cancel the contract they’ll say good riddance. I don’t think they’ve ever built anything like this, and maybe they’re over their heads.”
Duncan listened patiently. It was the same story over and over, but he agreed that threats could backfire.
“I’m just hoping we can get the rest of it soon,” he said, “The part we have is everything I had hoped for and if we can get the rest of it, these problems I’m having will go away.”
As he left Cox’s office, Duncan knew that installing the entire habitat wouldn’t solve all his problems. There was the little matter of how to move the insects from the aquaria into the habitat. But it was pointless to think about it without a completed habitat. The question of what to do with the burgeoning colony remained open.
48
AMONG THE PROBLEMS facing Duncan was how to provide food and water to the colony as the aquaria filled with adults that
never stopped looking for ways out. Simply opening the top of a tank was an invitation to a disaster. There were only three adult males the first and only time he’d tried to open the top and grab one of the specimens. That led to the death of one and a reminder of how quickly blaberus responded to an intrusion.
Boyd’s solution to the feeding problem was to slip a half-inch wire mesh under the edge of the top and drop bits of meat through it. Though the juveniles could have easily slipped through it, they couldn’t jump. The adults were excellent jumpers and quickly learned to respond whenever the feeding took place. Occasionally, one or two would be able to grip the wire and attack it, which scared Winston so much that he ran out of the lab the first time he saw it. Boyd reassured him that as powerful for their size as blaberus was, the insects couldn’t cut through metal.
“Just don’t put your fingers on the mesh. They might stick you,” Boyd said.
In addition to food, water could be dropped into the tank, where it spread out in puddles that the bugs lapped up.
“That’s probably how they get their water in the wild,” Boyd told Chang and Winston. “They’re not what you’d call swimmers.”
Installing the mesh took skill. It needed to fit along the entire length of the top so that there were no gaps that the bugs could squeeze through. And they had to be able to prevent it from falling into the tank, which is why they practiced the technique on an empty tank before doing it for real. Despite their best efforts, however, one of the mesh screens had fallen into a tank while Winston was withdrawing it. He’d closed the top before pulling it out to prevent escape attempts but lost his grip on the mesh for an instant and gravity took care of the rest. Overly remorseful over the incident, the young assistant apologized profusely.
“I don’t know what to say,” he told Duncan, “it was a stupid mistake.”