Since Max’s experiment room was the most heavily damaged, he had to move to another building temporarily. Most of the equipment had been destroyed, along with most of the test pieces and cell samples they’d stored, and what little of it was left was too damaged to use. Despite it all, their research resumed, owing in large part to Katya’s dedication, and her words of advice and encouragement.
Aska’s “A cells” were lost in the bombing and fire. All the genetic data in the experiment room’s computers were lost, too, but luckily Katya had made a copy on her computer, so they were able to pick up where they’d left off.
Max wrote up a report on the damages for university administration. It was already past five in the afternoon. He had been typing away for more than three hours, and he was sick of the monotony.
Before leaving for the cafeteria, he checked his mail. Mixed in among the messages was an email with an attachment from an unspecified sender with a hidden address. Afraid it could be a virus, Max was about to delete it when he noticed the Star of David in the subject line. It had to be from Feldman.
Under the heading AZTEC RESEARCH INSTITUTE, there was an overview of the company. Capital stock of 37 million USD. Eighty employees. Research mainly revolved around genetic engineering. Genetically modified crops of various vegetables and fruits produced and patented. $57 million in funding last year. La Cruz, California—probably where the company was located. That was all the email contained.
He remembered what Feldman had told him: “We’re not playing around here.” Something stood out from the company overview, and he knew Feldman had sent it to him because it had popped out at him, too. Max sat back down and typed for an additional three hours, as he placed a number of calls. When he looked out the window, it was dark out.
He printed a few documents and left the room to head home. He passed in front of the lab; the lights were on. He gently opened the door and went in. Somebody was in front of the computer. It was Katya. Ever since she’d met Max’s brother at California Memorial Hospital and learned of Max’s illness, she’d devoted herself to researching it. All she could do was analyze what data hadn’t been lost. It wasn’t uncommon for the lights to be on in the room until sunrise.
“What’s that?” Max asked, looking at the screen over Katya’s shoulder.
Katya turned around; her expression went from surprise to relief.
“The results of Alex’s genetic analysis. It was included in the data you were given.”
“Anything new?”
“It’s as you said. Without DNA to compare it to, there can be no progress. We still need to look more closely into Aska’s cells and genes.”
“Aska isn’t with us.”
“I’m sure she’s alive. They wouldn’t ever kill her.”
Max pulled a chair over and sat next to Katya. “Ever heard of Aztec Labs?”
Katya thought a moment, but shook her head.
“It’s a private research institute that conducts research on genetic modification.”
“I’ve never heard of it. They’re not associated with other companies, and their research article publication output must be pretty low. But there are so many genetics startups these days. Where is it located?”
“It’s in La Cruz, a small town north of San Diego. It was a fisherman’s town five years ago before the labs were built. I don’t know much more than that.”
“So, what makes you bring it up?”
“I got an email about it. Probably courtesy of Feldman.”
“Why did he email you about it?”
“He says he’s got friends all over the world. He probably got a tip from a member or ally of a global-scale Jewish organization. That means they’ve got a worldwide information network.”
“Did you check online?”
“Couldn’t find anything. I contacted the city authorities about it, but they only gave me a rough idea.” Max handed Katya a few sheets of paper. “Publicly available information about the city.”
“It’s a midsize research institute,” she said, rifling through.
“But it’s strange that there isn’t anything online about a lab complex of this size. That must be intentional. Also, they have too little capital stock compared to their research expenses.”
“I think it mainly deals with genetically modified plants.”
“Annual research funding, 57 million. That is a big figure. They’re either doing really high-level research, or they hold one or more juicy patents. No sales or settlement reports here.”
“Most of the administrative costs are covered by venture capital, which is to say, donations.”
“It’s the ‘Aztec Foundation.’ Did you look into that?” Katya was skimming through the text.
“Their headquarters are in Paris, but whether that’s the real story is unclear. It’s weird for a French foundation to be funding an American business venture.”
“There’s always a lot of government involvement when it comes to this kind of research institute. It requires a lot of licensing and permits. If you contact the government agencies, you might be able to uncover a fair bit.”
“I contacted the CDC and was told that it was out of their jurisdiction. Aztec Labs has a P4 lab but doesn’t deal with infectious viruses or bacteria. Their research is limited to the field of genetics. I was told their main activities involved the development of genetically modified plants and pharmaceuticals. The CDC didn’t have much of any data for me, either.”
“Then is it under the jurisdiction of the FDA or WHO?”
“I called both of them. None of them have any info. I asked a friend of mine in government, too, but he didn’t know much, either. Aztec can’t be doing anything substantial.”
“A laboratory full of secrets. They did a hell of a job getting licensed like that. And continuing to operate,” Katya said.
“The work of politicians, no doubt. And not your average politicians, either. Unless you’re close to the governor or president, you don’t have that much authority. Maybe we should leave it to Feldman.”
Katya swiveled her chair back toward the computer and began pounding on the keyboard even faster.
“I tried access into the lab’s computers, but the security’s too strict. It’s the same in every lab.”
Katya ignored Max’s words and kept typing.
“I’m not trying to hack them. I’m looking at companies and organizations that do business with bio-related laboratories. We may just learn something.”
“Is that possible?”
“I’m looking up companies and organizations that might be relevant. I’ve pulled up a list of trade partners for companies that supply the chemicals, drugs, and equipment necessary to conduct genetics research.” The company names took up the entire screen. Katya sighed.
“There are hundreds of companies. I’d give up if I were you.”
“It’s a million times more likely to turn something up than doing nothing. Now let’s look up computer suppliers. Supercomputers are a must for detailed gene analysis and for determining the molecular structure of purified proteins. The government knows where all supercomputer delivery destinations are.”
Max shrugged.
“Wow!” Katya leaned closer to the screen.
“They have the world’s fastest supercomputer, IBM Roadrunner. Two of them, in fact. And one unit costs $100 million.”
“Are they doing genetic analysis or determining molecular structure? Or both?”
Katya started typing faster.
“What did you uncover this time?”
“I was wondering if we could break into the supercomputer. They would definitely be connected to universities and other research facilities.”
“It’d certainly be more efficient that way.”
“But that’s not the case. Their computer network is completely insular. They must really hate the idea of outside interference. Even though they would still be protected by multiple layers of security even if they were connected to
an outside establishment.” Katya’s fingers danced across the keyboard like a pianist.
“You’re a woman of many talents,” Max said, chasing Katya’s fingertips with his eyes.
“I admire a different talent more.”
“I know a young man who said he’d conquer the world using his computer. And I have half a mind to believe him now.”
“He’s half right. But don’t you think conquering people’s hearts is a more attractive prospect than conquering the world?”
Max stood behind Katya, watching the rapidly changing screen. He sighed and left the room. He returned to his office and took out a sheet of Aska’s genetic information from his bag.
Two hours passed. A knock on the door, and in came Katya. She had an inches-thick stack of papers, which she placed in front of Max. “This is a list of medicines that Aztec Labs has purchased from companies that it’s done business with in the past year. No matter how insular the company tries to be, it can’t do everything on its own. Aztec Labs is a good customer in the eyes of pharmaceutical companies and equipment suppliers. I don’t think this covers everything, so this isn’t exhaustive.”
Max scanned the list.
“Extraction buffers, DTT, Endim solution, primer, phenol, chloroform, isoamyl alcohol, marker, Eppendorf tubes, Kimwipes, micropipettes, vortex mixes—all indispensable purchases for genetics researchers.”
“How about twelve spectroscopes?”
“Twelve is a lot. They’re doing genetic research in there for sure.”
“That adds up to a lot of money, but the amount of corporate income of the lab itself is less than 20 percent of the total income. The rest is funded by the Aztec Foundation. It doesn’t make sense in the eyes of a corporation.”
“That’s too big a figure to cover just through donations. It’s just research without a real business behind it.” Max thought for a while.
“We should leave it to Feldman. We can’t handle it anymore.”
“But as things stand, I think Aska must still be . . .” Katya looked away from Max, searching for the right words.
“Are you saying Aska’s at those labs?”
“It’s possible. We have to find her! Her cells and genes will lead us to new discoveries. Besides . . .” She shot him a pleading look. “Aska saved my life when I was about to drown. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”
“Guess we’ve got no choice but to go there,” Max muttered, glancing at the stack of papers.
CHAPTER 19
Two days later, Max and Katya headed for La Cruz. They took a flight from San Francisco to San Diego, rented a car at the airport, and drove north on the freeway. They zoomed along the coastline, the Pacific sparkling in the sunshine to their left. The Mexican border lay a mere twelve miles to the south.
According to a brochure they’d found at the airport, La Cruz was a resort area, and a small country town of around five thousand people. It had a yacht harbor, and tourists went fishing and diving there as well.
Aztec Labs and the University of California’s Marine Research Institute were shown on the map. The two laboratories were north of the town, facing the sea.
“It’s pretty around here.” Katya stared happily at the water.
They were enjoying the picture-perfect California landscape. The water was dark blue, and the skies azure. Rolling hills sculpted the land opposite the ocean. They saw a few windsurfing sails in bright primary colors.
After an hour’s ride from San Diego, they arrived at La Cruz. They parked near a U-shaped motel at the entrance to town. The motel had about forty rooms, a pool at the center, and a big parking lot around it. It seemed large for such a small town.
At the front desk sat an old man with a stubbly beard reading a fishing magazine.
“We’d like two rooms next to each other, please.”
The man cast a sharp glance at Max, then turned his eyes to Katya. “The beds are king-size. Big enough for two to sleep in. Plus, it’ll be cheaper if you share a room. I’m not here to rip you off.”
“But we’ll each be more comfortable alone,” said Max.
The man shrugged and got their keys. He pointed to both wings of the motel: “Sorry, we’re full up with people staying here to fish or dive. You won’t be near each other, but you won’t be so far you need a car.”
Katya was standing silently behind Max, who paid and took the keys.
“Can you direct me to Aztec Labs? I think it’s around six or so miles from here.”
The man froze for a moment, before returning to his chair as though he hadn’t missed a beat. “Those labs don’t really mix with the folks here. They just pay their taxes and keep to themselves. And let me tell you, the company pays a lot in taxes.”
“Where do all the employees and researchers live?”
“All the way over at the private beach. They’ve got a huge site over there, with their own apartment buildings and everything. I hear they’ve got a restaurant, a supermarket, and a hospital. Don’t know if they’ve got a school, on account of how I’ve never seen any kids around there. ’Course, I never bump into lab folks in town, so I wouldn’t know.”
The word “Estancia” sprang to Max’s mind. Katya gave him a look which told him she was thinking the same thing.
“Ever been there?”
“No way. They’re researching genetics and bio stuff. Rumor has it they’re whipping up Frankenstein’s monster over there.”
“We’re talking about a P4-level laboratory. There must have been public hearings before construction was approved.”
“Look, I’m not really that interested. I’m not afraid of biohazards, and the town loves having a company that pays a fortune in taxes. What’s it to me what they get up to?” Then he went back to his magazine. This conversation was over.
Max grabbed Katya’s bags and headed for her room.
“Can I come to your room later?” Katya said, as she took her bags and her room key off his hands.
After about ten minutes, she came back. Max was looking at the guidebook he’d taken from the reception counter. Nothing about Aztec Labs in it, either.
“The guy’s lying. He knew P4 laboratories come with the risk of biohazards. Not many people know that. He understands the danger level. The labs were built five years ago. I read that there was a big opposition movement when construction started. And then the protesters were suddenly in favor.”
“Are you saying the residents were bought off?”
“Absolutely. Look how swanky this motel is for a town this size.”
After a few minutes rest, they got in the car and headed for the coast. The road had four lanes, but there were few cars. Two large trucks with AZTEC logos passed.
“I think this road was built specifically for the labs,” Katya said.
“Around five miles ahead, there’s the California University Marine Research Labs and a campground. The campground’s been around since before Aztec Labs was built,” Max said as he eyed the trucks.
A building surrounded by a white fence was visible on the hilly coastline. Three box-shaped buildings stood in a vast lot.
“There it is. Aztec Labs.” Max pointed at it with his eyes.
“It’s bigger than I imagined.”
“It’s on a mile-long private beach. And it’s off limits.”
They turned onto a road that continued along a wall. Max slowed to a crawl.
“Can’t make out anything beyond the wall,” Katya said, her face to the car window.
Max stopped the car. The wall was nearly ten feet tall, but it gave way to a fence protected by barbed wire. Inside, they could see a lawn, with an unobstructed view except for a few trees. The buildings were about two hundred yards away.
“Watch, the fence is probably electrified,” she said.
Max pointed at a sign on the fence. PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO TRESPASSING, then ELECTRIFIED in red letters.
“I get security being tight, but I’ve never heard of a private business electrif
ying the fence. Think about the liability headaches. This can’t be just an ordinary genetic research lab,” she said, looking up. The security camera on top of the fence was pointed at their car.
They slowly went around the perimeter; after a few minutes, they hit a dead end—and a cliff.
In the rearview mirror, he saw a Hummer coming closer. There was nowhere to run; they were backed against the cliff, below was the sea.
“I’m going to pretend we got lost.” Max took the map and spread it out over the steering wheel.
Two guards with blue short-sleeved uniforms came out of the Hummer. They were about six feet tall, blond and lean. They looked like they could be German. They had their hands at their holsters.
The driver sat behind the steering wheel without moving, his eyes on Max and Katya.
“Hello, could you tell me how to get to the Marine Research Labs?” Max showed the map to the man who was peering at him through the window. Both of the labs were by the shore, so this cover made sense. One might think this road led to both.
The two men stood back and talked in low voices, never taking their eyes off them. One came back. “Go back about two miles. Then take the narrow road at the fork and go straight down it until you get there,” he said cordially.
Max revved the engine.
“They must be standing guard 24/7,” Katya said. She looked in the rearview mirror.
“An electrified fence, surveillance cameras, and armed guards. These labs must really hate visitors.”
The Hummer followed them about a hundred feet behind. Max pushed down on the accelerator.
They stopped by the harbor before returning to the motel. About thirty yachts were moored. Most were open-sea cruisers, some were forty-foot class. It was a beautiful harbor that one wouldn’t expect to find in such a small port town. At the other end of the bay a few miles away were a few white buildings. It was Aztec.
“There doesn’t appear to be any fence on the sea side,” Katya said, looking at the labs.
They walked along the harbor. A dive shop was at the end. A young man in his early twenties with coconut-colored skin was connecting an air tank to a compressor.
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