on it, he finalized his plan in an instant. He would return to the terrain of his childhood, the forests of northern California, and spend a year writing about them just as he had done the Amazon. He knew that no sane man would make such a snap judgment, but it didn't matter. He already had.
'It is so exciting to meet you,' Rebecca said with utter sincerity.
She wanted him to talk, to paint word pictures of the Amazon, its people, his house, and all the little things about life in the jungle. She wanted that, even though she had read thousands of pages. He supposed there was some magic in the flesh-and-blood presence of an explorer, so he went with it and spoke without reservation or self-conscious inhibition. All the while the Raval letter was on his mind, but he knew to bide his time and to avoid seeming anxious. And he wasn't sure yet whether he wanted to share its contents.
After almost an hour of talking and questions, Grady and Rebecca excused themselves to the restrooms. On her way out Rebecca handed him a stack of fan mail. There were about fifty letters. On top was the missive from Georges Raval.
There is a great secret in the science of genetics that is in two parts. I know the one part and you know the other. There are many who want this secret and they will do anything to get it. Together we can revolu tionize medicine, unlock the keys to genetic science, replace body parts with near frivolous abandon, and probably cure the ravages of many immune response diseases forever. There are evil forces at work. Once they learn your part of the secret, they will kill you and the same for me. Be careful. We need to meet. Contact me at macaquemania@hotmail. com. Destroy this. Stay safe. Georges Raval
Methodically he tore the message into small pieces. Next he wrote a message for Rebecca to send.
This forwarded from Dr. Bowden: Received your message. Anxious to discuss your most recent re search. Contact me through our mutual colleague, Dr. Richard Lyman, Biological Sciences, Cornell Univer sity. We could meet in Ithaca or elsewhere at your con venience. Looking forward to speaking.
They had lunch at a restaurant, where they sat around a large rectangular table with Grady and Michael in the middle. Michael was listening to Rebecca's boss, Henry, explain about his yacht, and at the same time he looked around the restaurant at the strange new world in which he found himself. In Iquitos and Leticia or Tabatinga everything seemed to exist in a constant state of deterioration. The instant a new coat of paint was applied, the Amazon sun and the humidity began their attack. This natural force that wanted to work against man and all his endeavors seemed more than the sum of its parts. In New York City it wasn't like that. Things that were old often seemed exquisite and, like wine, they seemed to get better with age. On the other hand, natural beauty was extinguished. There were no sweeping forests to frame the sky, no sense of myriad living things fitting together in a multitude of fascinations that could even entice the mind of God, the Creator.
They might build a pond and put a fish in it, but it was a fish without a world-save the thin veneer created by the cement makers who built the pond. There were pigeons in the park, but they were not part of anything but the pastime of the very old and the very young, both of whom seemed to like to feed them. People lived by their clocks and everything was thus regulated. Therefore, very few things happened that weren't foreordained. Each day was not an experiment but a manufactured event.
There were, however, those unanticipated eventualities.
After the boss was finished about the yacht, the conversation continued in brief flurries about the Amazon and various questions, Michael having taken a breather from the lecture format. Around the table most everyone was watching him and they seemed to be wondering how he liked his food. He tried to look pleased. It seemed to be very refined grease. It had been a mistake not to order a simple piece of fish and some vegetables. Maybe a little rice. It was billed as a seafood restaurant with something of an eclectic menu, but somehow he had ended up in the pasta section, so he had ordered what passed for food in Italy, according to its descrip tion. It was flooded with a fatty sauce that he was sure would wreak havoc with his innards. Perhaps he could order something more straightforward without embarrassing his hosts.
At what seemed a reasonable breaking point, he rose from the table and determined that he would retire to the rest- room and then stop by the kitchen.
Located just off the entry lobby, the restroom facilities were at the other end of the establishment. With Yodo following, he walked past all the chefs behind the cooking bar and saw a number of dishes that looked palatable. As he rounded a corner, a man stepped out of the shadows. Yodo immediately stepped between him and the man. With a wry smile Michael peered around his large bodyguard.
'You are Michael Bowden.' The stranger was just under six feet with close-cropped brown hair, a mustache, gold wire-rimmed spectacles, slightly uneven teeth, and a narrow face. Although not much to look at, there was confidence in his bearing and an intensity about him that caused Michael to take him seriously.
'Yes, I am. Who are you?'
'I am John Stephan and my firm represents a pharmaceu tical interest that would like to speak with you confidentially. But it must be in confidence. I am a lawyer.' He handed him a card with a phone number and Michael put it in his pocket. 'Could we talk without the man-mountain?' he said nod ding at Yodo.
Michael hesitated. 'I have nothing to hide. What do you mean by 'in confidence'?'
'We need confidence,' he said again referring to Yodo.
'Yodo maybe you could wait by the bar over there.' Yodo moved about thirty feet away looking very concerned.
'We would like to speak with you privately at our law offices. We are a large Wall Street firm. Binkley, Hart, and Rove. The managing partner for this matter is Arthur Stewart. If you have an attorney, he may call Mr. Stewart. We like to think we have the highest standards and we plan on documenting everything we tell you. Everything.' Then the man turned away from Yodo and whispered. 'Specifically, we are concerned about the man you call Sam. We believe he may be using you for purposes you're not aware of. That is not to say that he wants to harm you, it's just to say that he has his own agenda.' The man leaned even closer. 'He is known to be engaged in a private war with a man who calls himself Gaudet, among other names, and that is not a concern of ours, and as far as we can tell, it should not be a concern of yours except that you have knowledge that he wants and that we want.'
Michael did not reply.
'Put simply, you are being used as bait, Mr. Bowden. And in addition everyone wants what you have and this Sam is not above taking it. You notice how he keeps talking about your journals, wanting to get at them? What's his motive? Is it to protect you? Think about it. He doesn't need those journals to protect you. If they had been in your house on the Galvez River when he arrived, you never would have seen him or heard from him. He'd have what he wants.'
'Explain that.'
'First the bait part. Sam is hired by the U.S. government to help them find Gaudet. Gaudet needs some information. Sam has let it be known to Gaudet that you have what he needs. So Gaudet went to your house and raided it sometime ago, only he went much sooner than Sam expected and Sam failed to get there first to lay a trap and to beat him to the journals-which people erroneously thought would be in the house. As a result your wife was killed. If Gaudet believes he needs you, he will come, and that is what Sam is counting on. You're Sam's trap for Gaudet. Do you understand?'
'How would you know this unless you were being used by Gaudet?'
'I and my colleagues will explain that after reaching some preliminary understandings. We can give you refer ences that we believe you will find impeccable. But I haven't explained the second part. There is a secret about the human immune system and how to neutralize it with respect to chosen proteins. I'm sure you understand.'
'I've heard.'
'And it is thought that part of that secret came from you.'
'What kind of business do you have with me?'
'A straightforward pharmaceutical deal to replace or supplement the deal you had with Northern Lights.'
At that moment Michael saw Yodo slowly moving closer and waved him off.
'How do you know the deal with Northern Lights?'
'We don't, completely, but we'll answer all your questions at our offices. There will be a company representative present who will have full authority to negotiate. Naturally, we don't expect you to agree to anything until you have consulted with your own attorneys.'
'I need to think this over.'
'No problem. But please give me a commitment that you will meet at our offices soon and that you will not bring this fellow Sam.'
