only relative. We have a lot of catching up to do, but we can’t do that unless we’re together.
Grace hoped this wasn’t over the top. She knew that Noah Blackwood, being one of the most accomplished liars of all time, was no doubt equally skilled at spotting liars. When she’d arrived at the Ark, she’d held on to a small hope that Noah Blackwood was not as bad as she’d thought. But after a few days the hope had all but vanished. Beyond his smiling, pleasant exterior there was something fundamentally wrong. It was clear from watching his interactions with his staff that theywere all terrified of him. Even Butch, although he tried to hide it, was afraid of Noah Blackwood.
She looked at her ridiculously expensive Swiss watch. It had cost her grandfather twenty-three thousand dollars. He hadn’t batted an eye. Trinkets like this were his bait. The iPad was another one. Shiny, irresistible lures. If she didn’t nibble at the bait, he would think the fish wasn’t biting. Grace had never worn a watch in her life, she couldn’t care less about jewelry, but she had made a huge fuss over the timepiece. The more things, or trinkets, she accepted from her grandfather, the more she had to lose if she ran away. The more she accepted, the more he would trust her. It was an hour before lunch. If her grandfather showed up for the meal, she’d know the bait was working.
She slipped the Moleskine into the Ziploc bags and put it back into the tank, noting the exact position. With the Moleskine back in place, she took off her dinosaur-soiled clothes and dropped them down the laundry chute.
Laundry elves , she thought. Noah had bought her thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes, but she had only worn two outfits so far, simply switching the dirty clothes for the laundered ones. In a couple of hours the clothes she’d dumped would be back in her dresser, cleaned, pressed, and folded.
“Sorry for the stinky clothes!” she yelled down the chute, then listened. She didn’t get a reply, and didn’t expect one, but she felt it was important to try to make friends, even if they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, acknowledge her.
The marbled shower was almost as big as her cabin aboard the Coelacanth . She turned the water up to a notch below scalding, then stepped under the stream with her eyes closed. As shereached for the soap dish to her right the marble wall seemed to move. She opened her eyes and stared in disbelief. The wall had moved. There was a six-inch gap in the white marble.
• • •
Noah was standing in his state-of-the-art DNA laboratory on the third level beneath the Ark. His biochemistry company was called GeneArk. Above ground, the company did very standard biochemistry research. Below ground, under his direction, it had taken biochemistry to unheard-of places. In the Middle Ages, his scientists would have been called witches and warlocks. Their experiments would have been called dark magic.
Noah was talking to his chief genetic scientist, Dr. Strand. The scientist was as pale as an eggshell, as if he hadn’t been out in the sun in a decade. But in truth it had only been six months. He was wearing red surgical scrubs. He had a bandage wrapped around his left hand. Perched on the bridge of his prominent nose were the thickest black-framed glasses Noah had ever seen, making the scientist’s dark eyes pop from his bald skull. The effect, Noah thought, was irritatingly squidlike. He noticed that Strand’s glasses had been damaged, the bridge crudely repaired with silver duct tape.
“What happened?” Noah asked, pointing, and not really caring.
“Nothing,” Strand said. “Dropped them on the cement.”
Noah gave him a nod and got on to more important things. “How are the samples?” he asked.
“Pristine,” Dr. Strand answered excitedly. “There is nothing even remotely like them.”
“Can they be cloned?”
“Absolutely. But of course we will have to transport them south for the real work to
Grace hoped this wasn’t over the top. She knew that Noah Blackwood, being one of the most accomplished liars of all time, was no doubt equally skilled at spotting liars. When she’d arrived at the Ark, she’d held on to a small hope that Noah Blackwood was not as bad as she’d thought. But after a few days the hope had all but vanished. Beyond his smiling, pleasant exterior there was something fundamentally wrong. It was clear from watching his interactions with his staff that theywere all terrified of him. Even Butch, although he tried to hide it, was afraid of Noah Blackwood.
She looked at her ridiculously expensive Swiss watch. It had cost her grandfather twenty-three thousand dollars. He hadn’t batted an eye. Trinkets like this were his bait. The iPad was another one. Shiny, irresistible lures. If she didn’t nibble at the bait, he would think the fish wasn’t biting. Grace had never worn a watch in her life, she couldn’t care less about jewelry, but she had made a huge fuss over the timepiece. The more things, or trinkets, she accepted from her grandfather, the more she had to lose if she ran away. The more she accepted, the more he would trust her. It was an hour before lunch. If her grandfather showed up for the meal, she’d know the bait was working.
She slipped the Moleskine into the Ziploc bags and put it back into the tank, noting the exact position. With the Moleskine back in place, she took off her dinosaur-soiled clothes and dropped them down the laundry chute.
Laundry elves , she thought. Noah had bought her thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes, but she had only worn two outfits so far, simply switching the dirty clothes for the laundered ones. In a couple of hours the clothes she’d dumped would be back in her dresser, cleaned, pressed, and folded.
“Sorry for the stinky clothes!” she yelled down the chute, then listened. She didn’t get a reply, and didn’t expect one, but she felt it was important to try to make friends, even if they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, acknowledge her.
The marbled shower was almost as big as her cabin aboard the Coelacanth . She turned the water up to a notch below scalding, then stepped under the stream with her eyes closed. As shereached for the soap dish to her right the marble wall seemed to move. She opened her eyes and stared in disbelief. The wall had moved. There was a six-inch gap in the white marble.
• • •
Noah was standing in his state-of-the-art DNA laboratory on the third level beneath the Ark. His biochemistry company was called GeneArk. Above ground, the company did very standard biochemistry research. Below ground, under his direction, it had taken biochemistry to unheard-of places. In the Middle Ages, his scientists would have been called witches and warlocks. Their experiments would have been called dark magic.
Noah was talking to his chief genetic scientist, Dr. Strand. The scientist was as pale as an eggshell, as if he hadn’t been out in the sun in a decade. But in truth it had only been six months. He was wearing red surgical scrubs. He had a bandage wrapped around his left hand. Perched on the bridge of his prominent nose were the thickest black-framed glasses Noah had ever seen, making the scientist’s dark eyes pop from his bald skull. The effect, Noah thought, was irritatingly squidlike. He noticed that Strand’s glasses had been damaged, the bridge crudely repaired with silver duct tape.
“What happened?” Noah asked, pointing, and not really caring.
“Nothing,” Strand said. “Dropped them on the cement.”
Noah gave him a nod and got on to more important things. “How are the samples?” he asked.
“Pristine,” Dr. Strand answered excitedly. “There is nothing even remotely like them.”
“Can they be cloned?”
“Absolutely. But of course we will have to transport them south for the real work to
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