begin. When do you think—”
“When I say!” Noah cut him off. Strand had been complaining about being stuck at the Ark for months, and Noah was sick of it.
“Of course … of course … ,” Strand whined, backing away as if Noah was about to take a swing at him.
Noah smiled. He had never hit the scientist, but knowing that Strand thought he might gave him a feeling of great satisfaction.
“Can the samples be mutated and recombined?” Noah asked.
“I’ll need more time to work with the material, but I don’t see why not.”
“And did you take care of the implants?”
“Of course … of course. Subcutaneously, at the base of the tail, just as you requested.”
Noah nodded. Although he already knew the implants had been taken care of. He had watched the minor procedure on one of his secret cameras.
“Where did you find these remarkable creatures?” Strand asked, his excitement overtaking his fear for a minute. “They are absolutely incredible.”
Noah frowned. Questions like this were not allowed at the Ark. Information was strictly segregated. One level had no idea what another level was doing. Most of his staff didn’t even know how many levels there were at the Ark.
“I-I’m sorry,” the scientist stammered, realizing his mistake. “It’s just that the material appears to be millions of years old,but it’s still viable. If I could learn the country of origin, I could—”
Noah cut him off again with a cold blue-eyed stare. “You’ll know soon enough.”
“Of course … of course,” Dr. Strand sputtered, backing farther away like a frightened crawfish.
“How is CH-9?”
“Yvonne was down here early this morning working with him. She said the training was going well. He has a very strong food drive.”
“What about his implant?”
“Well, his is very different from the implants we placed in the dinosaurs, of course. Yvonne aptly calls it a steering wheel.”
Noah thought about this for a moment. “Is it possible we could use that implant in a human subject?”
“I don’t see why not. It would involve brain surgery, which is always a risk. And we would need a willing subject.”
Noah nearly laughed. Willingness had nothing to do with a subject’s willingness. It had to do with Noah’s will. And he had the perfect subject in mind.
“We managed to come up with a harness for CH-9,” Strand went on enthusiastically. “It doesn’t impede his movements in any way, and with the new camera we can see everything CH-9 sees.”
“We won’t be using the camera in the next field tests,” Noah stated matter-of-factly.
“Of course … of course,” Strand sputtered again. “That’s a given, but as a training tool it’s perfect. CH-9 is fast. He gets ahead of us. Without the camera to see where he’s going, we might lose him. We’ve left the camera harness on him so wedon’t have to tranquilize him every day. He’s a little hard to handle.” Dr. Strand rubbed the bandage wrapped around his hand.
Noah smiled. CH-9 had bitten Strand three times. The last two requiring stitches.
“I’m glad to hear the camera is working well,” Noah said. Ted Bronson’s high-tech camera had been an added bonus to the Mokélé-mbembé raid. Butch had stolen it from the Coelacanth . Noah’s technicians had modified it to fit the harness.
“It’s unbelievable! The video is almost as clear at night as it is during the day.”
Noah glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to take a look at the final cut of his syndicated television show before sending it off. It was due to go out early the following morning and air the following evening all over the world. It was a dramatic episode. All he had to do was add an announcement at the end that would shake the scientific community and the general public to their very core. He was looking forward to it.
Luther scooped up the last smudge of baba ghanoush and popped it into his mouth. “So your mom teaches at the University of
“When I say!” Noah cut him off. Strand had been complaining about being stuck at the Ark for months, and Noah was sick of it.
“Of course … of course … ,” Strand whined, backing away as if Noah was about to take a swing at him.
Noah smiled. He had never hit the scientist, but knowing that Strand thought he might gave him a feeling of great satisfaction.
“Can the samples be mutated and recombined?” Noah asked.
“I’ll need more time to work with the material, but I don’t see why not.”
“And did you take care of the implants?”
“Of course … of course. Subcutaneously, at the base of the tail, just as you requested.”
Noah nodded. Although he already knew the implants had been taken care of. He had watched the minor procedure on one of his secret cameras.
“Where did you find these remarkable creatures?” Strand asked, his excitement overtaking his fear for a minute. “They are absolutely incredible.”
Noah frowned. Questions like this were not allowed at the Ark. Information was strictly segregated. One level had no idea what another level was doing. Most of his staff didn’t even know how many levels there were at the Ark.
“I-I’m sorry,” the scientist stammered, realizing his mistake. “It’s just that the material appears to be millions of years old,but it’s still viable. If I could learn the country of origin, I could—”
Noah cut him off again with a cold blue-eyed stare. “You’ll know soon enough.”
“Of course … of course,” Dr. Strand sputtered, backing farther away like a frightened crawfish.
“How is CH-9?”
“Yvonne was down here early this morning working with him. She said the training was going well. He has a very strong food drive.”
“What about his implant?”
“Well, his is very different from the implants we placed in the dinosaurs, of course. Yvonne aptly calls it a steering wheel.”
Noah thought about this for a moment. “Is it possible we could use that implant in a human subject?”
“I don’t see why not. It would involve brain surgery, which is always a risk. And we would need a willing subject.”
Noah nearly laughed. Willingness had nothing to do with a subject’s willingness. It had to do with Noah’s will. And he had the perfect subject in mind.
“We managed to come up with a harness for CH-9,” Strand went on enthusiastically. “It doesn’t impede his movements in any way, and with the new camera we can see everything CH-9 sees.”
“We won’t be using the camera in the next field tests,” Noah stated matter-of-factly.
“Of course … of course,” Strand sputtered again. “That’s a given, but as a training tool it’s perfect. CH-9 is fast. He gets ahead of us. Without the camera to see where he’s going, we might lose him. We’ve left the camera harness on him so wedon’t have to tranquilize him every day. He’s a little hard to handle.” Dr. Strand rubbed the bandage wrapped around his hand.
Noah smiled. CH-9 had bitten Strand three times. The last two requiring stitches.
“I’m glad to hear the camera is working well,” Noah said. Ted Bronson’s high-tech camera had been an added bonus to the Mokélé-mbembé raid. Butch had stolen it from the Coelacanth . Noah’s technicians had modified it to fit the harness.
“It’s unbelievable! The video is almost as clear at night as it is during the day.”
Noah glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to take a look at the final cut of his syndicated television show before sending it off. It was due to go out early the following morning and air the following evening all over the world. It was a dramatic episode. All he had to do was add an announcement at the end that would shake the scientific community and the general public to their very core. He was looking forward to it.
Luther scooped up the last smudge of baba ghanoush and popped it into his mouth. “So your mom teaches at the University of
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