Yeti Unleashed Read online

  The only sound in the Animal Care Unit, other than the Yeti’s breathing, was that of the air-conditioning whirring overhead. The automated thermostat had lowered the ambient temperature to a cold forty-five degrees to facilitate the animal’s sleeping, but it had no effect on Bentu. He continued to sit, rock, and stare out the front of his cage.

  Near midnight, Bentu stood, pulled his massive frame to his full height--which was well over eight feet--and sauntered to the front of his cage. For a long time, he stood immobile, still staring out at an invisible object beyond, his warm breath forming a cloud in the frigid temperature of the unit. His lips were pulled tight against his teeth, baring two enormous canines--long, sharp, and yellow. His long, shaggy fur was a cinnamon brown color, and its stench, along with his female companion’s, filled the unit.

  Bentu grabbed the bars of his cage with huge, burly hands whose fingers were tipped with needlepoint claws. Standing there, clutching the bars, he paused, as if contemplating what he would do next, then turned his head upward toward the ceiling. His eyes narrowed to slits and he began to rattle the cage. Slowly at first, he continued his rattling, becoming more forceful with each passing minute until the cage rocked and shook in a violent manner. The noise was deafening.

  Bentu opened his giant maw and uttered a shattering shriek that pierced the otherwise quiet of the Animal Care Unit. The horrific noise echoed down the hallway, through the building, and finally, out into the cool night of Cinder Mountain.

  Chapter 6

  Dr. Miles Radner strode into the Animal Care Unit dressed in sterile coveralls, hat, and mask, and nodded to Millie and Jimmy who were sitting at their desks at the far end of the unit. Each was writing in a logbook but stopped at Radner’s approach.

  “Well, here are my two young graduate assistants, eagerly going about their work,” Radner said. “How are you both today?”

  “Just fine, Dr. Radner,” Jimmy said, his forehead becoming a frown.

  “Peachy,” Millie said, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, as if she was smiling behind her mask.

  That was the problem with masks, thought Radner. Difficult to read facial expressions and catch someone being less than truthful.

  “I’ve come to see how the scientific part of the facility is faring in preparation for Dr. Olson’s visit in a few days. Any problems here?”

  The Yeti were quiet in their cages, a relief to Radner, for he was uncomfortable in the creatures’ presence. Something about their immense size and snarling features made him uneasy. Along with the odor. He was glad he didn’t have to come here often. Happy to accept whatever honors and discoveries might accrue to him as director of the Primate Research Facility, he nonetheless limited his time in the unit to only that which was absolutely necessary.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary, Dr. Radner,” Millie said, closing her logbook. “Our research is progressing along.”

  “At the usual snail’s pace,” Jimmy added.

  “I understand,” Radner said. “When I was at Harvard, I often complained that things didn’t move along faster. But such is the nature of scientific progress.”

  He was aware of Jimmy’s hesitancy in his presence. The boy was obviously intimidated by authority, unlike his colleague, Millie, who seemed unaffected by anything. In fact, it was Radner who felt uncomfortable around the woman. She hid her thoughts well. He prided himself in his ability to read people, to look into their eyes and discern what lay behind them but Millie’s eyes were different. Enigmatic. Unfathomable.

  “The Yeti well behaved, Millie?” he said.

  “Most of the time, Doctor,” she said, the wrinkles around her eyes twitching ever so slightly.

  “Yes,” Jimmy added, “but mine, I call him Bentu, is a pain. I don’t think he likes being confined to a cage.”

  “No, I suspect not,” said Radner.

  “He acts out a lot,” Jimmy continued. “Rocking, rattling his cage, that sort of thing.”

  “Animal care protocols being followed? Logbooks up to date?”

  Millie pushed a piece of gum into her mouth and began chewing. “We leave most of their care to the technicians,” she said between chews. “But I believe they’re doing everything by the book, Dr. Radner.”

  “Well, fine,” Radner said. “By the way, there will be a small reception when Dr. Olson arrives, and all the staff are invited, including you both.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jimmy said.

  Radner left the unit, thankful to be out of the coveralls and away from the Yeti.

  ***

  Harry and Dixie stepped off the plane in Reno, Nevada, and walked down the jet way and into the large terminal building. The Reno-Tahoe International Airport terminal was an expansive two-story affair nestled against low rolling hills. Harry led Dixie down the escalator and past a bank of slot machines to the baggage claim area where Dr. Radner waited. After shaking hands, Radner escorted the couple to the parking structure and his parked car.

  “Here, Harry,” he said, “throw your bags in the back.” He opened the rear hatch of his full-sized SUV, placed Dixie’s bag inside, and waited for Harry to do the same with his. “I’m glad you two decided to stay overnight. It will give you a chance to see everything...shall we say?...up close.”

  Harry climbed in the front passenger seat while Dixie buckled herself into the one behind her husband. Radner started the car and headed toward Interstate 80.

  “Really, Miles,” Harry said as they were on the highway heading in a northeasterly direction. “I’m not here on an inspection tour. I don’t want you or the staff to feel that I am. I’m personally interested in the progress of the Yeti research and the genome sequencing. I know you run a top-notch facility, so don’t feel pressured by my coming.”

  “Well, I certainly wasn’t apprised of the nature of your visit,” Radner said. His tone had a certain disparaging quality to it. “So. We’ve planned a small reception and a dinner tonight. I hope you and Dixie don’t mind--the staff wanted to meet you both. After all, the Yeti wouldn’t be here at all if not for you.” He let out a nervous laugh.

  “It’s fine, Miles. I would like to speak with the scientists as soon as we arrive, if that is agreeable.”

  “Not a problem,” Radner replied.

  As the SUV sped toward Elko County and Cinder Mountain, Harry relaxed in the plush seat and studied Radner. The man seemed preoccupied about something. He appeared nervous, fidgety, and kept glancing into the rearview mirror at Dixie. He was a strange little man, Harry thought. His narrow eyes and weak chin gave him a weasel-like appearance but the man wore tailor-made suits. It was an odd combination, Harry thought. Radner’s wire-framed glasses had a habit of sliding down a concave shaped nose forcing him to periodically push them back.

  Dixie had tried a few times to chat with Radner but the man didn’t want to talk with her. He was intent on extolling the virtues and wonderful work of the Primate Research Facility, as if he were making a sales pitch to a potential big money donor.

  The rocking of the vehicle caused Harry’s mind to drift into a lazy fog, and he only barely listened to Radner’s monotone voice. His attention snapped into focus when Radner’s voice escalated.

  “...the Yeti research,” the facility director was saying, “is progressing steadily and the animals are in fine health. No infectious outbreaks to date. Dr. Siscom works hard to keep it that way.”

  They traveled on through arid desert country and, at the junction of State Highway 786, they stopped for gas and to use the restroom. Dixie purchased a soda and Harry bought a coffee. Radner didn’t get anything.

  The sun was on its downward arc when Radner steered the SUV off 786 and onto a narrow unmarked asphalt road that was filled with potholes. Since leaving the Interstate the landscape had become more desolate with only an occasional Joshua tree or sagebrush seen. Mostly, Harry was reminded that the sand and rock countryside looked like the moon’s surface. And there wasn’t a single animal or varmint that he could see.


  “From here the road gets a little rougher,” Radner said, steering a weaving path to avoid the larger holes. But the smaller ones he couldn’t miss, turning the ride into a gut-wrenching one.

  “Can’t the county do something about this road?” Dixie asked between jolts. “I think my fillings are coming loose.”

  Harry and Radner laughed at her joke, and Harry patted her arm that clutched the back of his headrest.

  “Don’t worry,” Radner said, smiling. “It gets worse up ahead.”

  As the car bumped along a gradual curve to the northwest, they came to a sign at the side of the road.

  PRIMATE RESEARCH FACILITY

  CALIFORNIA PACIFIC UNIVERSITY

  PRIVATE PROPERTY

  NO UNAUTHORIZED ADMITTANCE

  An aged gate prevented access to a narrow dirt and gravel road that took off from the sign, leading back northeast. In the near distance loomed a rugged mountain with what looked like a winding path carved in its side. Harry jumped out, opened the gate, and, after Radner drove through, closed it, and got back in the SUV.

  “Here is where it gets dicey,” Radner said. “Need four-wheel drive from here to the research compound. But of course, you both have been here before.”

  “And each time, Miles, seems like a new experience. I can’t say I look forward to this part of the drive,” Harry said, grabbing the dash for security.

  Radner continued over the rutted road with Harry and Dixie bouncing in their seats. Harry rolled his window down and savored the fresh sage-scented breeze that wafted into the car. The air was noticeably cooler, and he remembered they had been slowly gaining altitude since leaving Reno.

  “What wild country,” Dixie said. “Reminds me a little of the Mongolian steppes.”

  “It does,” Harry said. “Isn’t there old Indian ruins around here somewhere? I think I remember it from a previous visit.”

  “Yes,” Radner said. “It is over on the other side of the mountain. A group of ancient stucco ruins at its foot. They were Paiute, I believe.”

  “How old are the ruins?” Dixie asked.

  “Not really sure, Dixie,” Radner replied. “This land was part of a large reservation until the tribe auctioned it off and the government bought it. As you know, ten years ago the university acquired this property, about six hundred acres.”

  “I read,” Dixie said, “ that humans have been in this geographic region called the Great Basin for at least ten thousand years. Paleo-Indians were the first inhabitants, followed by the four contemporary tribes, the Washoe, Northern Paiute, Southern Paiute, and Western Shoshone. The cultures of these great Nations have no separation between the sacred and the ordinary in their lives. Life is spiritual and fluid, with a sense of balance, harmony, beauty, and completeness.”

  “It was originally going to be a faculty retreat but thanks to Professor Kesler’s influence and lobbying, he convinced the board of trustees to build the primate center instead.” Harry felt a sense of pride as he talked about his former teacher and friend. “Miles, how is the road up the mountain? I remember last time it was extremely primitive.”

  “It’s not bad, unless we get a torrential rain. Then it’s impassible for days. That’s why we are self-sufficient up here. Got a stock of food and water in case the cistern goes dry and we can’t get groceries. But, we have all the comforts of home. Don’t you remember, Harry?”

  “Of course, but it’s always an adventure, to be sure.”

  “In 1859,” Radner said, “only miles from the Carson Valley trail used by so many Forty-Niners a decade earlier, came the fabled Comstock Lode. The rush to the Comstock in 1859 virtually shut down the mines of California. A new era dawned, scientifically, economically, and socially. By the late 1850s, thousands of gold seekers were doubling back from California, through the Western territories. Many were professional prospectors by now, roving from one small strike to the next. Others belonged to a new wave of novices, fleeing a severe financial depression back East. But they didn’t find so much gold as silver. The blasted blue stuff as they called it, was actually a fabulous silver strike, the legendary Comstock Lode, probably the greatest single mineral strike in history. During the next year, seventeen thousand people swarmed into the Washoe region of what became the state of Nevada.”

  The road then began an upward climb so Radner put the SUV into a lower gear. With their speed slowed to a crawl, Harry watched as the plain became smaller below them. The mountain was forested with western juniper, lodge pole pine, aspen, and white bark pine. The soil was rocky and there were large granite outcroppings close to the narrow road. Up a serpentine course they climbed, negotiating numerous switchbacks until near the top of Cinder Mountain the road leveled out. The final approach to the facility took them over a wooden bridge that spanned a fast moving stream. Harry watched its cascading torrents tumble over rocks and boulders on its way to the plain below.

  Few landscapes in the United States were lonelier than that of northern Nevada. Towns--remote outposts connected by endless, thin ribbons of highway--were named for what miners used to pull out of the ground: Coaldale, Silverpeak, Goldfield. But the mining industry in places like Elko County had largely disappeared and, with it, the towns it gave birth to. Those, that weren’t ghost towns already, clung precariously to life, burned-out and abandoned structures at their margins creeping inexorably toward the center like some scabrous and fatal disease. For many, it was just a matter of time. Even those hamlets that still had a few hundred people living in them were sometimes left off state road maps.

  It was this area that Cal Pacific chose to house its Primate Research Facility and, when the Cinder Mountain land came available, the university snatched it up. Dr. Kesler saw what a great location Cinder Mountain was for a center whose aim was genetic research into hominid evolution. Under his influence and guidance, the primate facility took shape, using big money donors, and now it produced exciting results. Far away from any notable population center, the scientists could carry on their work in relative peace and security.

  New research directions and technologies had increased the use of new experimental species. Dr. Kesler insisted on the introduction of transgenic mice, now widely used in genomic-based research across all therapeutic areas. This, he argued, would result in higher-density housing types of caging in order to run more studies in shorter time periods, thus generating a higher level of production. He led the way with initiatives to promote the psychological wellbeing of animals of all species. Providing for such natural behaviors as exercise, opportunities for group interactions, and nesting and foraging, the primate facility was developing new ideas to replace more stressful traditional housing paradigms.

  Radner stopped the SUV at a gate. A man exited a small office and ambled to the driver’s window. Radner rolled his window down and produced his ID.

  “Bruce, I have Dr. Olson and his wife, Dr. Olson.”

  Drayton limped to the passenger side of the vehicle and Harry’s open window.

  “Afternoon, Doctor. I remember you and your wife from a previous visit. Do you have any ID on you?”

  Harry chuckled and showed the man his Cal Pacific ID. Dixie stuck hers out the window.

  “Fine, Doctors. Just a minute, and I’ll open the gate.”

  “I like the security, Miles,” Harry said as they drove through the gate.

  The remark produced a smile on Radner’s lips.

  At the entrance to the main building a woman in a white lab coat opened Harry’s door, then Dixie’s. Once they were both out of the SUV she held out her hand. “I’m Millie Harbaum,” she said smiling, green eyes sparkling. “I’m one of your research assistants here at the facility.”

  “Of course, Millie,” Dixie said in a gay tone. “I remember you. Glad to see you again.”

  Millie stepped forward and took their bags. “I’ll get you settled in the dormitory. You can come over whenever you feel like it.”

  “Thanks, Millie,” Harry said, as she toted their bag
s into the building.

  After the formalities of meeting the staff, Harry had the scientists gather in the small conference room next to Radner’s office. Coffee and soft drinks arrived and were placed on a buffet next to the oval dark-stained table. When everyone was seated, Radner introduced Harry and Dixie then went around the table introducing the scientists.

  When he was finished, he turned the meeting over to Harry.

  It was a disparate group at the conference table, and Harry marveled at the differences among his staff. From two young students to an older man, the group reflected the age diversity that President Pauling had worked hard to achieve at the university. Seeing scientists like these, gathered to discuss their work, sent a wave of nostalgia through him. He missed the day-to-day work of researching a problem.

  “Thank you, Dr. Radner,” he began. “I look forward to a brief tour of the facility tomorrow morning, but I want you’ll to know that I’m not here for an inspection. I’m here on a scientific mission. I need an update on the current state of primate research you all are doing. So, if you will humor me, I would like to go around the table and have each of you give a brief synopsis of your work and results, if any. Let’s start with you, here on my left.”

  A man in his fifties cleared his throat then explained his research using chimpanzees. “I’m Henry Billis,” he began. “In my lab, we’re taking noncoding segments of the chimp’s DNA and are attempting to uncover their functions. Noncoding DNA are sequences of DNA that do not encode protein sequences but can be transcribed to produce important regulatory molecules. Even though they were not coding a gene they still might provide a function in the animal’s physiology. Some might provide help in RNA transcription. The amount of noncoding DNA varies greatly among species. For example, over 98% of the human genome is noncoding DNA, while only about 2% of a typical bacterial genome is noncoding DNA.”