the final leap when the fish felt the mesh.
But there was no leap, just some threshing in the net and then he had hauled it out and up on to the bank and he collapsed himself. He pulled the Priest out of his pocket and despatched the salmon and sat a while longer, panting. His gear was some way back, and when he reached it the light was too bad for him to see the gauge on his weighing hook. He got the fish, and his gear, back up to the car and drove to the hotel,and went right to the fish room through the garage block at the rear.
There, to his slight disappointment, it went nineteen pounds.
‘But yon’s a beauty, Professor – fresh in! This here you can call a fash !’
‘Yes, not a bad chap, is he?’ Lazenby said modestly, and waited to see his prize sacked and labelled for the smoker’s at Aberdeen before going through to clean up and change. The passage led into the reception lounge and there, to his astonishment, he saw waiting for him Philpott and a grave fellow in a three-piece suit.
‘Hello, Prof. I don’t think you’ve met Mr Hendricks – Mr W. Murray Hendricks. He’s got something very interesting for you.’
9
Up in Lazenby’s room, after dinner, Hendricks opened his briefcase.
Twenty hours after the first satellite, another one had overflown the site, its cameras specially switched on. The first Bird had captured its images from 300 miles away at three o’clock in the morning; the second was directly overhead at eleven the same night. The fires were out, a gale was blowing, and masked figures in protective clothing were working under floodlights. They were working on the structure with the blown-off roof.
Military biology of some kind had been going on in the place, that was certain; despite the wind, a number of elements had been identified still escaping into the air. What had produced the explosion it was not possible to say, but thenature of the work in the establishment had certainly been very varied.
Lazenby was shown some shadowy prints: a jumble of wrecked equipment photographed through the hole in the dome. Transparent overlays with sketched-in lines helped to clarify the mess, but Lazenby still couldn’t make it out.
A ducting system , Hendricks explained. It had been identified as part of a layout internationally designated ‘P4’.
‘Ah, P4. Not my field,’ Lazenby said. ‘That’s rather a high security label, the highest actually. It’s a system for the containment of tricky bacteria – E-coli , I believe, normally. They use it to replicate cells, for gene-splicing.’
‘Yes, E-coli is what they were using, and it was for gene-splicing,’ Hendricks said. ‘This is the remains of a genetics lab – quite a large one.’
‘Is it, now? What would they want with that?’
Hendricks probed in his briefcase again and showed him the photographs of the individuals in line. There were over a dozen prints now, some sections having been detached and enlarged. These images were also muzzy but again overlays had been provided to outline the limbs.
Lazenby examined them. ‘Apes,’ he concluded.
‘No, they aren’t apes. Not now.’
Lazenby peered again. ‘Improved apes?’
‘Yes, these can talk and read. This one can, anyway. He is reading a list and calling out names, and the others are answering him. It’s clearer on the movie.’
Lazenby looked at him over his glasses for some moments.
‘You’re not supposing this is Rogachev’s work?’ he said.
‘Well, it’s his place. There’s no doubt about that. I can show you.’
He showed him a map. It was a section of a large-scale sheet of the Kolyma region – some thousands of miles, he said, from where they had previously been looking. Ringed on it was the spidery symbol for a weather station, and close by the weather station a lake. Blackpool had been handwritten over the lake.
He explained this, too. The name came from a book, one of a collection gathering dust in the department’s library; the
But there was no leap, just some threshing in the net and then he had hauled it out and up on to the bank and he collapsed himself. He pulled the Priest out of his pocket and despatched the salmon and sat a while longer, panting. His gear was some way back, and when he reached it the light was too bad for him to see the gauge on his weighing hook. He got the fish, and his gear, back up to the car and drove to the hotel,and went right to the fish room through the garage block at the rear.
There, to his slight disappointment, it went nineteen pounds.
‘But yon’s a beauty, Professor – fresh in! This here you can call a fash !’
‘Yes, not a bad chap, is he?’ Lazenby said modestly, and waited to see his prize sacked and labelled for the smoker’s at Aberdeen before going through to clean up and change. The passage led into the reception lounge and there, to his astonishment, he saw waiting for him Philpott and a grave fellow in a three-piece suit.
‘Hello, Prof. I don’t think you’ve met Mr Hendricks – Mr W. Murray Hendricks. He’s got something very interesting for you.’
9
Up in Lazenby’s room, after dinner, Hendricks opened his briefcase.
Twenty hours after the first satellite, another one had overflown the site, its cameras specially switched on. The first Bird had captured its images from 300 miles away at three o’clock in the morning; the second was directly overhead at eleven the same night. The fires were out, a gale was blowing, and masked figures in protective clothing were working under floodlights. They were working on the structure with the blown-off roof.
Military biology of some kind had been going on in the place, that was certain; despite the wind, a number of elements had been identified still escaping into the air. What had produced the explosion it was not possible to say, but thenature of the work in the establishment had certainly been very varied.
Lazenby was shown some shadowy prints: a jumble of wrecked equipment photographed through the hole in the dome. Transparent overlays with sketched-in lines helped to clarify the mess, but Lazenby still couldn’t make it out.
A ducting system , Hendricks explained. It had been identified as part of a layout internationally designated ‘P4’.
‘Ah, P4. Not my field,’ Lazenby said. ‘That’s rather a high security label, the highest actually. It’s a system for the containment of tricky bacteria – E-coli , I believe, normally. They use it to replicate cells, for gene-splicing.’
‘Yes, E-coli is what they were using, and it was for gene-splicing,’ Hendricks said. ‘This is the remains of a genetics lab – quite a large one.’
‘Is it, now? What would they want with that?’
Hendricks probed in his briefcase again and showed him the photographs of the individuals in line. There were over a dozen prints now, some sections having been detached and enlarged. These images were also muzzy but again overlays had been provided to outline the limbs.
Lazenby examined them. ‘Apes,’ he concluded.
‘No, they aren’t apes. Not now.’
Lazenby peered again. ‘Improved apes?’
‘Yes, these can talk and read. This one can, anyway. He is reading a list and calling out names, and the others are answering him. It’s clearer on the movie.’
Lazenby looked at him over his glasses for some moments.
‘You’re not supposing this is Rogachev’s work?’ he said.
‘Well, it’s his place. There’s no doubt about that. I can show you.’
He showed him a map. It was a section of a large-scale sheet of the Kolyma region – some thousands of miles, he said, from where they had previously been looking. Ringed on it was the spidery symbol for a weather station, and close by the weather station a lake. Blackpool had been handwritten over the lake.
He explained this, too. The name came from a book, one of a collection gathering dust in the department’s library; the
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