Chromosome 6 by Robin Cook Page B

in such a situation
not to be completely forthcoming."
"Maybe so," Laurie said with a sigh.
"Where to now?" Jack asked as they boarded the elevator. "I'm running out of ideas," Laurie said. "Thank God," Jack said.
"Don't you think I should ask Mike why he didn't tell us about the van drivers looking at Franconi?" Laurie asked.
"You could, but I think you're just spinning your wheels," Jack said. "Truly, I can't imagine it was anything but harmless curiosity."
"Then let's call it a night," Laurie said. "Bed is sounding good to me, too." CHAPTER 5: MARCH 5, 1997 10:15 A.M.
COGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA
KEVIN replaced the tissue culture flasks in the incubator and closed the door. He'd been working since before dawn. His current quest was to find a transponase to handle a minor histocompatibility gene on the Y chromosome. It had been eluding him for over a month despite his use of the technique that had resulted in his finding and isolating the transponases associated with the short arm of chromosome 6. Kevin's usual schedule was to arrive at the lab around eight-thirty, but that morning he'd awakened at four a.m. and had not been able to fall back to sleep. After tossing and turning for three-quarters of an hour, he'd decided he might as well use the time for good purpose. He'd arrived at his lab at five a.m. while it was still pitch dark.
What was troubling Kevin's sleep was his conscience. The nagging notion that he'd made a Promethean mistake resurfaced with a vengeance. Although Dr. Lyons's mention of building his own lab had assuaged him at the time, it didn't last. Lab of his dreams or no, he couldn't deny the horror he feared was evolving on Isla Francesca.
Kevin's feelings had nothing to do with seeing more smoke. He hadn't, but as dawn broke, he'd also consciously avoided looking out the window much less in the direction of the island. Kevin realized he couldn't go on like this. He decided that the most rational course of action would be to find out if his fears were justified. The best way to do it, he surmised, was to approach someone close to the situation who might be able to shed some light on Kevin's area of concern. But Kevin didn't feel comfortable talking with many people in the Zone. He'd never been very social, especially in Cogo, where he was the sole academician. But there was one working in the Zone with whom he felt slightly more comfortable, mainly because he admired his work: Bertram Edwards, the chief veterinarian. Impulsively Kevin removed his lab coat, draped it over his chair, and headed out of his office. Descending to the first floor, he exited into the steamy heat of the parking area north of the hospital. The

morning weather was clear, with white, puffy cumuli clouds overhead. There were some dark rain clouds
looming, but they were out over the ocean in a clump along the western horizon; if they brought rain, it wouldn't be before the afternoon.
Kevin climbed into his Toyota four-wheel drive and turned right out of the hospital parking lot. Traversing the north side of the town square, he passed the old Catholic church. GenSys had renovated the building to function as the recreational center. On Friday and Saturday nights they showed movies. Monday nights they had bingo. In the basement was a commissary serving American hamburgers. Bertram Edwards's office was at the veterinary center that was part of the far larger animal unit. The entire complex was bigger than Cogo itself. It was situated north of the town in a dense equatorial rain forest and separated from the town by a stretch of virgin jungle. Kevin's route took him east as far as the motor-pool facility, where he turned north. The traffic, which was considerable for such a remote spot, reflected the difficult logistics of running an operation the size of the Zone. Everything from toilet paper to centrifuge tubes had to be imported, which necessitated moving a lot of goods. Most supplies came by truck from Bata, where there was a crude