by Richard Edde
Kesler’s friend and colleague, Dr. Chloe Rawlings, was chief of the forensic DNA lab at California Pacific University. She was running a DNA sequence on the small piece of bone the professor brought her. Dr. Rawlings wore a crisp white lab coat and peered at the machine through wire-rimmed glasses. Kesler noticed she smelled of a perfume, that was familiar, but whose name escaped him. She was tall and her blonde hair hung loosely on her shoulders. Every now and then, she nodded, as though willing the machine to its completion.
The lab was a large affair, filled with strange machines of all kinds, most of which Kesler hadn’t the slightest idea what they were used for. The whole process of DNA analysis was mysterious and foreign to him. He understood the basics but when it came to working on a sample, he let Dr. Rawlings do all the work.
“Professor, once the thermal cycler is through, we’ll stick the sample in the sequencer, and go to lunch while it runs. Is that agreeable?”
“I would love to buy you lunch, Chloe. I rarely use the faculty dining room anymore.”
“I have missed seeing you there of late, Julius, why is that?”
“Well, over the years the university has hired so many new faculty, most of whom I do not know. So I would rather bring a lunch and eat in my office.”
“I didn’t know you were so shy, Julius. You would rather hide away and not socialize with an old friend?” Dr. Rawlings chided, smiling.
Kesler felt himself blush at the comment, old friend, and shook his head.
“We used to have such interesting conversation over lunch,” Rawlings continued as the thermal cycler hummed behind her.
“I remember,” Kesler said. “You shared the latest findings of your work and I complained about my grad students.”
“You wished you could find a smart one with a good work ethic if I recall. That changed when...now let me see...what was his name? Your protege?”
“Olson. Harry Olson,” Kesler said. “Got his doctorate a few years ago and stayed on here at the university.”
“I remember you thought very highly of him,” Rawlings said after taking the sample from the cycler and placing the plate in the sequencer. After verifying that the machine had begun its cycle, she took Kesler by an arm and the pair strolled toward the faculty dining room.
“Yes, Chloe, he’s special. He’s become the son I never had. I love the man.”
“Well, here we are,” Rawlings said. “Let’s get some lunch, and I’ll fill you in on your sample. It’ll be like old times.”
Over salad, dinner rolls, and pie, Kesler tried to assimilate Dr. Rawlings’s simplified version of what was happening to his sample. Genetics was never his strong suit and he struggled to follow along.
“Years ago, a man musing about work while driving down a California highway revolutionized molecular biology when he envisioned a technique to make large numbers of copies of a piece of DNA rapidly and accurately. Known as the polymerase chain reaction, or PCR, Kary Mullis’s technique involves separating the double strands of a DNA fragment into single-strand templates by heating it, attaching primers that initiate the copying process, using DNA polymerase to make a copy of each strand from free nucleotides floating around in the reaction mixture, detaching the primers, then repeating the cycle using the new and old strands as templates. Since its discovery, PCR has made possible a number of procedures we now take for granted, such as DNA fingerprinting of crime scenes, paternity testing, and DNA-based diagnosis of hereditary and infectious diseases.”
“So far I’m following you,” Kesler said.
“DNA is first extracted from its biological source material and then measured to evaluate the quantity of DNA recovered. After isolating the DNA from its cells, specific regions are copied with PCR. This produces millions of copies for each DNA segment of interest and thus permits very minute amounts of DNA to be examined. The resulting PCR products are then separated, detected, and sequenced. What we have then is a DNA profile called a genome for that individual or specimen.”
“You will be able to compare that genome with known Neanderthal genomes and see if they are similar?”
“Yes. Computer software makes the comparison process faster and simpler.”
“You seem to be married to these machines, Chloe. Do you ever leave the lab?” He patted her hand across the table. “I mean socially.”
Rawlings laughed and tossed her head back, her blonde hair dancing on her shoulders, eyes sparkling. “Sure seems like marriage, sometimes, Julius. I do get out some, however.”
“Any special fella?”
Rawlings shook her head and laughed again. “Not at the present. But there have been a few over the years. I’m just extremely busy right now.”
“The biggest mistake of my life,” Kesler said, “was that, as I got older, I was always too busy for love. Don’t make the same mistake, honey.” Kesler finished his coffee and dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Let’s go see if the sequencer is finished running.”
***
Doyle stepped off the plane into a biting north wind in Anchorage, Alaska. Since leaving San Francisco, a large, bright moon had risen, bathing the tarmac in a silvery light. It was four a.m., and he needed to get some fresh air while the Hawker was being refueled for the long flight to Tokyo. He pulled the collar of his shirt around his ears to ward off the chill, while the ground maintenance crew worked in silence. The pilot had gone into the operations dispatch center for a briefing on the weather, leaving the copilot to inspect the plane’s exterior. Ted Stevens International Airport was located on a shelf of land that jutted into Cook Inlet. The resulting water-cooled breeze pierced Doyle’s thin shirt like tiny needles and, for a moment, he thought of retreating into the plane. There wasn’t much to see, anyway. The airport was all but shut down. Only a few lights were burning in the terminal building.
The flight into Japan was expected to take eight hours and Doyle had yet to get any real sleep. He was hoping he would be able to over the Pacific. By the time they landed in Beijing, he would have spent over fourteen hours sitting in the Hawker. Eastwood had thought of everything--a fully stocked bar and enough food to feed an army.
The plush captain’s chairs in the plane’s cabin reclined and were comfortable to a fault. Doyle just had too much on his mind to relax and sleep.
Once in China, the plan called for taking the train into Mongolia and finding someone to guide them to the research site. Not having a contact and not speaking the language was the main thing that worried Doyle. And they had a crate of weapons to lug around, which caused an additional headache. Eastwood wasn’t going to be very patient or tolerant if the search for a guide took a few days. But a couple of days in Beijing would give the men a chance to get over jet lag and rest up for what was going to prove a difficult journey.
The wind felt good on his face, like tiny icy needles massaging his skin. He sauntered over to the operations center and peered in a window. Only one sleepy-eyed employee chatting with the pilot. Ted Stevens Airport was dead at this hour.
The pilot boarded and Doyle followed, inquiring about the weather. Clear sailing at present, only one thunderstorm down near Hawaii that shouldn’t affect them.
The Hawker shot down runway 7L and, when airborne, banked left on a broad turn, out over the Pacific. At cruising altitude, Doyle resumed his crossword puzzle. His men were sound asleep.
***
Harry woke with a start. Someone was shaking his arm. Struggling to come alert, he noticed Li standing over him.
“Boss, it’s the professor. He’s on the video conferencing network. Needs to talk right away. Come now.”
Harry rubbed his eyes and pulled on his boots. “At this hour, Li? What time is it?”
“Three, boss. Professor said it could not wait. He sounded excited. I am going to wake Dixie now. You awake?”
“I’m fine, Li. I’ll meet you both in the command tent.”
Li disappeared out the tent door, leaving Harry to don his field jacket. He noticed
Li had already lit the lantern in the command tent and its light cast eerie shadows on the canvas walls. Late summer on the steppe made for cool, if not brisk, nights. With a clear sky, the temperature had dropped farther than usual.
Harry sat at the table in front of the laptop and saw Kesler on the screen, frowning. Dixie rushed into the tent and took a seat next to Harry with the trailing Li choosing to stand behind them.
“All right, Professor. You’ve got us all out of our beds and interrupted our peaceful slumber, so what’s the emergency?” Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was still not fully awake.
“Harry, you know that bone fragment you sent me by FedEx?”
“Sure do. It took three days to get it to Ulaanbaatar so we could ship it to you. What about it? Something interesting?”
“Not just interesting, guys, earth-shattering. I took the specimen to Dr. Chloe Rawlings. Her lab does the genetic and DNA testing and research here at Cal Pacific. That specimen was dated at a hundred thousand years ago, but it is not Neanderthal. And here is the real shocker--it’s not Homo sapien either. The genome of the specimen you found did not match Neanderthal or human DNA sequences. It’s neither.”
There was a long, silent pause while the weight of the professor’s words sank in. Harry, Dixie, and Li looked at each other, as if not comprehending.
Dixie spoke next. “So what are you saying? If the bones and teeth we found don’t belong to a Neanderthal or modern human, to whom do they belong? Have you figured that out?”
“Unfortunately, no. We have the genomes of most hominids and Homo species, including Habilis and Erectus and this specimen isn’t any of them. It’s definitely hominid because certain of the nucleotide base pairs are the same, but I don’t know what it is at this moment.”
“A lower primate, perhaps,” Dixie asked.
“No,” Kesler said. “We have the genomes of the major hominids that have been excavated and the DNA doesn’t match any of them.”
Li leaned closer to the monitor. “An entirely new species, possibly?” Li said, his voice betraying his sudden excitement.
Harry was awake now, his sleepiness jolted away by this unforeseen turn of events. His attention was focused on Kesler’s every word, his stomach gripping him in a tight knot.
“Can’t rightly say but anything is possible at this juncture.” Kesler’s demeanor betrayed his calm speech as he smiled and fidgeted during the call. “However, I think you all need to continue digging. More specimens are always better. A skull would be perfect. The more skeletal remains and genetic material you can dig up will help shed more light on this mystery. But please be careful. Because of my stupidity, someone may be on their way there right now. The men who kidnapped me didn’t seem like nice folks at all.”
“We’ve added a few more nighttime sentries for extra security, Professor,” Harry said. “But it’s quiet here for the present. Those bones and teeth were on a crashed Russian airplane so they could have been coming from or going to anywhere. The plane was apparently heading west when it went down so, the flight’s origin could be in Mongolia. Or China, possibly.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Kesler replied. “You might search the wreckage more thoroughly and see if you can come up with more information about where it came from or where it was going. In the meantime I want you to keep digging.”
“We can do that, Professor. We can.”
“Harry,” Kesler said, his voice had a pleading tone, “please be careful. Keep digging but watch your backs. This discovery may turn out to be extremely important, but not as important as everyone’s safety.”
“I promise,” Harry replied.
After they had signed off with Kesler, the trio looked at each other and started laughing.
Li summed up their thoughts. “I think we may be on the trail of something big.”
Chapter 9
Sleep would not come to Harry. Returning to his cot after Kesler’s bombshell, he tossed and turned, but his mind was on the expedition and its security. The professor’s last words haunted him. Who would care about their research enough to kidnap and rough up an elderly university scholar? Unable to drift off, he decided to call his brother and check on his mother. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled over to the command tent. Dixie had turned the lantern down, but its low light made it easy to dial the satellite phone.
This time Max sounded eager to talk. “Harry, I tried several times to call yesterday but could not get through. The satellite must have been malfunctioning or something.”
“Yeah, Max. How’s Mom?”
His brother never took responsibility for anything. When things went poorly it was always someone else’s fault or due to circumstances beyond his control.
“She’s back in the hospital, little brother. Went the night before last. She started having breathing difficulties again, so the doctor put her in. A cardiologist saw her and I think they are going to put in a pacemaker tomorrow.”
“You think, Max?” Harry was getting agitated.
“Well, it’s pretty much decided. The doctor wanted to look at a new heart tracing in the morning but I think it’s her only hope of getting better. It’s that damned heart failure.”
“How’s her spirit, Max? She was always a fighter, you know?”
“She thinks Dad needs her so she wants to go home as soon as possible. She seems happy every time I call and talk to her.”
Harry’s head began to throb at the mention of his father. “And Dad, has he been to see her at the hospital?”
“No, he says that hospitals make him nervous so he will wait for Mom to come home. He’s going to fix her a special dinner.”
“Won’t visit. That’s about right,” Harry said. The throbbing was now making his eyes hurt.
“I’ll try and call if there are any new developments, Harry, or when Mom makes it home. Keep yourself safe over there.”
After signing off, Harry sat in the command tent, staring at the lantern. He felt horrible about being so far away when his mother was ill. Should he leave the expedition and go see her? He knew she would reciprocate if the situation was reversed. It would require a week of travel and take a big chunk out of the expense fund to do so, but the professor would agree to it. But Harry wasn’t sure Dixie and Li could direct the digging in his absence. An argument against going was that Max was near and was keeping him informed as to Mom’s condition. If things got worse, he could always leave. Hopefully, the pacemaker would fix her up. But Dad gave Harry ulcers. The sonofabitch hadn’t changed in all the years since Harry had left home. Everything was still always about dear old Dad.
Harry turned off the lantern and headed back to his tent to grab some sleep before breakfast. Early morning twilight was starting to form, off to the East, and the stars were fading from view. In the west, the mountains looked like dark pyramids bearing down on their little compound. The steppe could be eerie this time of night with its vastness and the dark forbidding mountains. A cool gentle breeze rattled his tent flaps as he fell onto his cot, not bothering to remove his boots. Lying there, he listened to the rustling of the tent and slowly eased into a hazy fog.
***
Harry was slurping his oatmeal when Li approached him with a young woman Harry had never seen on the expedition site. They hired a few women to work in the kitchen but this woman was new to him. She was short and had dark, straight hair that flowed from underneath her woolen knit cap. She wore the traditional brown Mongolian robe, a deel, which covered western-style denim jeans. The deel was held closed by way of a bright, green sash. Her thick leather boots seemed too big for her as she followed Li to Harry’s table.
“Harry,” Li said in a quiet tone, “this is Jing Wu. She lives in the mountains two days ride from here. We went to school together. She was on her way to Kastum to buy her mother a birthday gift when she saw our worksite. It was pure coincidence that we met here after so many years. I explained what we are doing and what we have found. I took her to see the plane w
reckage. She is very impressed. And she knows English almost as well as me.”
Harry smiled and shook Jing’s tiny hand. It was a firm grip, the skin tough like leather. Jing flashed green eyes when Harry dropped her hand then Li motioned for her to sit opposite Harry.
“Would you care for some coffee or water, Jing?” When Jing shook her head, Harry continued as he filled his mug with coffee from a carafe in the center of the table. “So you and Li went to school together?”
“Yes, at Kosh-Ut. Li went on to college in the United States and I attended the National University of Mongolia in Ulaanbaatar.”
“What do you do now?” Harry said.
“I teach grade school in a small village way up in the mountains. I wanted to be an engineer but, back then, the university’s faculty were Russian men and they frowned on women engineers. So I became a teacher instead.”
“It’s an admirable profession, Jing. Helping kids and all.”
Li interrupted the conversation. “Jing here has some things to say to you, Harry. You should listen. They may pertain to our research.”
The morning sun had warmed the kitchen tent and workers were strolling to their work assignments, chatting and laughing among themselves. Harry suggested they move to the command tent for privacy.
When they had all gathered around the table, Jing began. “Li tells me you are looking for skeletal remains of humans. That is right? Very old skeletons?”
“We are, Jing. We are researching early human or proto-human development here in Mongolia. Actual bones are greatly needed for scientific study.”