# Docror Dna 22

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played every conceivable t»reaucratic game to insure my

patErs' validity. If they were counterfeit. they were better

than the real thing. But South African laws being what they

are, I was sure it was impossible to ever have one hundred

rrrcent up to the moment documents.

' 'Your tnreau chief made an error. You failed to get a visa

when you left Cape Town for Paarl."

' 'This country has the screwiest travel regulations of any

place I 've ever been, I declared forcefully. *'Seems a white

man gets treated the same as a native around here. " I heard

the intake of breath from everyone in the mom. ' 'I even got

put in the same ceil with three natives. Not even Coloreds but

natives. "

' 'An error has made in this Mr. Carter, ' ' said

the commissioner. "We do not mistreat foreigners visiting

our country, nor we humiliate them. "

'Maybe it was an oversight," I said slowly. Never trap a

rat in the comer. He'll fight to the (kath every time. I had to

lighten up enough so that the commissioner would let me go.

ne threat of world news stories concerning South African

policies toward their blacks had worked miracles. Further

hinting that I'd insulted by t*ing caged with three

blacks had shown him I possessed the right of Plitical

bent that, if he released me, no adverse stories would

written.

"What's that, Corvoral?" the commissioner said. The

corpral hadn't said a word. '*You found the travel

visa stuck to the back of Mr. Carter's Cape Town visa.

Excellent. ' ' ne man turned to me and took a step forward so

that his face hovered at the edge ofillumination from the bare

bulb. "It has all tren a terrible error, Mr. Carter. You had the

proper travel Frm.it all the time. It had gotten stuck from

humidity to your other papers."

"lhat's a relief, " I said. "Now I won't have to yell at my

boss for making a mistake. "

"No, Mr. Carter, you won't. " Ihe commissioner patted

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on the back like I was a longtime friend. • 'Did you know

that the word 'boss' originated in *Nth Africa? It's a boer

word. "

'How fascinating. An article on the contributions of South

Africa to the English language might interesting. "

"I'm sure it would. Corporal," commissioner said,

tuming from me, "see that Mr. Carter is on his way without

any further delay.

' 'fianks, Commissiorrr," I called. as he left t}'E I

couldn 't see his expression. The bright light was still in my

eyes.

The bartender's expression bordered on total dist*lief as I

walked back into the pub.

"Another lager," I ordered, sitting in the same booth I'd

vacated three hours earlier.

S'Didn •t expect to see you again, " he said, bringing me the

beer. "Usually. the folks nabbed in a cnme swoop are never

seen again. "

"I was inncrent," I said.

"But you hit the police sergeant! lhey'd likely take you

out back and you for something like that. I 've seen it

done before."

"l'm not a native. " The man's eyes widened a little as he

set down the beer. Before he left I asked, would like to

meet one, however."

' sone what?"

' 'A native. I •m a reporter for Amalgamated Press and Wire

Services. nat simple statement opened up the floodgates.

He understood everything with perfect clarity now. I was

white; I was American; I was a reporter. No wonder I got

away with defending myself from a police sergeant.

"Lots of the Irggars around, " he replied. ' 'Got a location

not far from here. "

"What's that? A 'location?' I heard it mentioned but I

don't understand the term. "

mcroR DNA

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• 'A where the natives live. neir homeland. ne

governn*nt's given them to live on and rule for

themselves. fiat's created quite a bit of Üouble, near the

bor&rs, of course. "

"Ofcourse," i agreed. ' •nat's why they have the crime

swcxvs? To catch illegals sneaking across from South Africa

to the locations?"

' 'The black trggars come out and steal and murder, then

sneak back, thinking they're immune. They're not. he

police are empowered to go in after them. The swoop is the

best way of catching them. Sometirnes they have to search

entire villages inside the homeland."

"Some homeland," I said dryly. He missed the irony.

"Tell nr how I might get out to one of these locations. "

"Most of the natives are more•n willing to show you

around, if you have the travel papers to get in and out. I heard

that Chief Mangope up north in Bophutatswana gcrs out of

his way to entice tourists. He's even got himself a wave

making machine."

"Wave making machine?"

"For waves. " Seeing I still didn't understand. he

added, "To surf. His lcution is inland, not far from Pretoria ,

so wavß are a real attraction. "

"Certainly a growth industry," I said, astounded. ' 'But I

don't want to go all the way north. Anything around here?"

' 'You might ask down the road a way. Other than that, I

can't tell you too much. No need to go into the homelands,

myself. • '

e Thanks, " I said, sipping at my "By the way, what

haprrned to the other fellow who was in here when the police

came

'The guy at that table?" he asked, pointing. "Don'treally

know. Never saw him Eæfore. Ihn't think he was from

around here. Imagine, two foreigners in my pub in one day. '

When the bartender left, I ran my hand under the seat

cushions. To my relief Wilhelmina and Hugo were

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there. With police searches at vinually every crossroads,

carrying weapns worked against me. Still, I felt t*tter with

them on me.

I kept them under my coat until I got outside, then put them

on. Crime swoops or no, I went armed.

"What's the name of the fellow you want?" the black

asked, lounging back and picking his broken, yellowed teeth

with a long, narrow, and very sharp knife.

"Sam Uwanal*," I repeated. "We have a mutual

friend. "

"Who?"

' 'What's in a name?" I asked.

For a long minute, the man eyed me, to decide.

Vvhen his expression hardened slightly I knew he'd decided

against the introduction. My foot looped out, caught him

behind the ankle, pulled. He went sprawling, his knife clat-

tering to the ground. I steppd on his wnst as he reached for

it.

"You're not i*ing polite. asked for "

"Don't know anybody named that."

'0But you were pointed out to me as a man who knew

everything—for a price. "

' can't tell you what I don't know."

"And you won't telling anyone anything if I cut your

tongue out and stuffed it up your nose. even use your own

knife. " Keeping my foot on his wrist, I tEnt down and picked

up the knife, testing it for balance. It looked flashy tilt wasn 't

worth too much in a fight. ne thin blade caused the balance

to fall way back, halfway down the handle. Throwing it away

would the trst way of throwing it.

"Youte not police."

sve qxnt the morning with the plice. In ajail cell. With

three blacks." My use of the word "blacks" instead of

' 'natives" seemed to change things us.

"You with three of us?"

' The police got confused, maytk."

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"But they let you go."

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said they were confused. I'm not. I want to talk with

Sam Uwanate. He can set the conditions. All I want is to

talk."

' 'Sam might want to see you, " came a voice from trhind,

"if you let that one go. "

"He's too small a fish for me, anyway, " I said. I dropped

the knife and took my foot off the wrist. Turning to

face the other man, I sent my heel rocketing backward to

catch the arm trying to dnve the knife up and into my back. I

didn't bother even looking at him. "You ire Sam

aren't you?" I asked the newcomer.

"I've been called worse. "

' 'Tell your friend to get " I said , indicating the man on

the ground. "And tell him to be more careful with his knife. "

' 'No need for me to tell him. You 've done it quite admira-

bly. " The accent was unmistakably British.

"Oxford?" asked.

' 'Cambridge, really, but they are ever so close except

when it comes to rowing. "

"You were on a crew?" If he had teen he'd lost a lot of

weight since those days on the Thames. Rowers need firm

muscles. Sam was stringy to the point of emacia-

tion. What muscle he had was piano wire, not bulk.

' 'Hardly. But surely you didn 't risk life and limb to inquire

about my spons activities? Just getting into a bantustan

requires a certain amount of perseverance. "

I had sneaked in over the border, avoiding the police

patrols. The lcutions or homelands or bantustans, depend-

ing on whom you talked to, were closer to prisons than

homes. I'd had an image of an Indian reservation in mind;

reservations in the U.S. don't have wire fences and patrols

around them.

"l need information. "

"Knowledge is B)wer," he said quietly. His dark eyes

fixed on me until I felt like a bug under a microscope.

"Tell me your group."


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"Group? belong to a group, as you so quaintly term

it? I am a peace-loving native, nothing more. "

"And as a rrace-loving native, you sve accumulated more

scars and bullet wounds than half the allied armies in World

War II. " I returned his gaze, bold and almost defiant. He

seemed to come to the conclusion that playing word games

wasn't getting either of us anywhere.

' 'Why should I aid you? I doubt our goals coincide at any

point. You are an American with, presurnably, American

ideas. Your government tacitly supports the Nationalist Party

in the Union. They are our oppressors. SWAPO fights

against them here in South Africa and against their puppets,

the DTA, in Namibia. "

I'd already run+•across mention of the DTA. And the

Nationalist Party controlling most of South Africa wasn •t far

separated from the Nazis. One of South Africa •s claims when

appealing to the U.S. for aid was General Jan Christian

Smuts' opposition to the Nazis in World War II, That was

true; Smuts was an able general, but he as much time

with B)litical infighting in South Africa as he did fighting the

Axis. Such a splitting of attention caused an otherwise effec-

tive general to be less than efficient.

"SWAPO?" 1 asked.

"Southwest African Peoples Organization. "

I'd heard it all before. Usually, any organization with

' Wyple" tossed into its name meant communist. But the

political conditions in South Africa were such that only

coalitions existed. No "pure play" existed.

SWAPO survived through popular support, but from a

tion amounting to less than half the people.

• 'I don't care about Not in this one. I'm after

information. "

g 'As I said. knowledge is power. We wouldn't want that

to used against us. "

"I think what I want is separate. Your survival isn't

threatened by my knowing about your group. Tell me. I'll

reprt it. That's my business. "

DNA

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"l wonder if it is," mused aloud. Then he

smiled and said, "I will take the chance. We tred favorable

world press. You will not hear anything from me that can be

used against us."

• •That's the only way I want it," said earnestly. Sam

Uwanabe might be a communist pawn in a game encompas-

sing all of Africa, or might be a self-seeking

grabber all on his own, but I'd begun to like the man. He was

the sort of IQder the region needed to pull away from the

fragmentation of power so prevalent. And SWAPO did fight

against the Angolans and tirir Cuban-trained troops. ney

no more wanted Angolan masters than they did South

African.

He trgan a rambling, pointless history of the SWAPO. I

listened, HEchanically taking notes as I considered how best

to insinuate the questions wanted answered. There wasn •t

any need for me to subtle. Uwanabe gave me the informa-

tion I wanted, and without amraring to know it.

"We are supplied by shipments from Cape Town into

Namibia. ne ships unload at points outside of Walvis Bay. 'i

"Shipments of arms, food, supplies?" I asked.

Those. We also smuggle contraband, reload it on ships of

other nations, and obtain money to carry on. "

If Dætor DNA had SWAPO aid, this explained how the

strategic metals were handled. Loaded in CaF Town,

shipFd to some small port in Namibia, transferred to Euro-

pean ships, then the payoff split. The money was instantly

laundered and ready for use in other ventures. No trace of the

metals remained; it all went through legitimate mills in

Europe.

"I've heard that your casualty rate is very high due to

untrained What is your survival rate after injury?"

"Higher than you might think. We have many sympathiz-

ers in the medical profession out in the veldt and rain

forests. "

"The old missionary?" I said jokingly.

' 'They haven't all tren eaten by cannibals," Uwanabe

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repli«i dryly. "While they might not support us one hundred

they give aid in many ways."

"Anyone in particular?"

4 •ney do mt wish tyrir narnö bandied It is

dangerous for them.

'Is there anyone who is already connected with SWAPO?

r •d like to get an interview—human-interest stuff. My read-

ers are to the saturation pint with the bullets-and-

blood part of war."

"After your Vietnam, I understand," said Uwanabe.

' 'Doctor Bron Faber is a researcher working at the Kruger

Game Preserve. He has tren instrumental in . . .

many

things. The Union government knows of his involvement but

his value to them exceeds his misconduct in offering succor

to SWAPO injured. "

' 'What he do?" I didn •t know if this anywhere

interesting cr n«.

Then things changed.

"He is a researcher in the recombinant DNA field. I do not

know precisely his interests. He has done some work with

protecting endangered on the preserve from disease. I

have heard he works with insects carrying the disease. Some

of the Bantus in the area even claim he supplies them with

aphrodisiacs. ' ' ne man laughed harshly. ' 'They still believe

ground rhincEerous hom acts in such a fashion. not judge

all of us by a few who are still ignorant and oppressed. '

"Any idea how I can find Faber?"

S'He is well known on the Kruger Game Preserve. ' ' I noted

that Uwanabe said Kruger as if it were ' ne

man glanc«i about as if exi:rcting someone. His entire tX)dy

tensed visibly.

S 'Whatss wrong?" I didn't want him turning on me now.

"A crime swoop is in progress. You had best leave the

bantustan before they spot you. Weapns are not permitted

inside a location. "

' 'Weapons?"

"Your pistol and your knife. For a reporter, you go well

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I appreciated the way Sam Uwanabe from

sight. ne man was in his element in the lcxation. Like a dark

mist expsed to sunlight, he simply disaprra.red. A haunting

' 'I wish you luck, American agent," came down from the

roof of the bailding t*hind me. I turned but was too late to

catch sight of him.

I beard the police whistles, loud shouts, profanity, the

sound of rubt:zr hoses finding yielding flesh, and decided to

take Uwanabe's advice. It was time for me to go.

Dætor Bron Faber was r*Xt on my list to visit. I thought I

had a handle on how the strategic metals were 'fenced ' ' after

leaving Cape Town. Now all that remained was identifying

Ehctor DNA. From what lid heard Faber, the two

could be orr and the same.

It only seconds for me to duck down an alley and

emerge in the next street ahead of the crime swoop. In less

than an hour I'd crossed back into South Africa from the

bantustan.

Sornehow, the air didn't breathe any differently.


CHAVI'ER FOUR

After being penned up in a jail cell , crawling under barbed

wire fences getting in and out of the I(xation, and being

harassed continually by police, it felt great taking a shower

in the opulence of the Springbok Hotel. I ate a gcxxi meal and

grabbed a short nQ before reporting in to Hawk.

I fixed the gizmo on the television set and found the rapidly

moving AXE communications satellite high above in its

polar orbit. In seconds, the link formed tEtween Hawk and

me. This time he didn't sit behind his wide desk. I didn't

recognize the lcration at all—the signal is patched through to

Hawk, no matter where he is.

• 'Well, N3, what has been accomplished since we last

talked?" He shifted his head slightly, and I saw a narrow

hallway behind. I recogmzed his surroundings then. This was

the hallway leading down to the Oval Office. I 'd reached

Hawk at the White House.

reported quickly. Hawk nodded. made a few notes in a

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spiral notebook with a black cover—I saw the red and white

stripes running around the edges indicating this was a clas-

sified document—and then turned his full attention to me.

"In a few minutes, there will be a meeting of the top

security advisors. "

"Yes, sir, I see where you are."

"I need something definite to pass along. This matter has

upset several in the government who don 't like being upset. ' '

I didn 't have to told who these pecple were. The President

headed the list, with the National Security Advisor right

behind him. Perhaps even heads of other intelligence organi-

zations agitated in the rnatter, While AXE and the CIA are on

the same side, it often aprEars that we work at cross pur-

poses. AXE takes on jobs dangerous and too difficult for

the CIA. We have a light touch and a reputation for getting

tlr job

"I've made contact with a SWAP() leader and gotten a

lead from him."

"We are not on the t*St of terms with SWAP(), " Hawk

pointed out. "He might have fed you a red hemng. "

"Possibly, but I'm inclined to doubt that. My feeling is

that SWAPO is willing to sacrifice certain members in ex-

change for better relations. I trlieve that Bron Faber is our

Doctor DNA and that SWAPO will trade him for . . . who

knows?"

Hawk scribbled furiously. then said, "This gcxs along

with much of what we've gotten from other sources. The

Cuban-trained Angolans pose a great threat to Namibia.

SWAPO might want U.S. aid."

"Lhtor DNA might pose a threat to them, also. He wields

a of power. They might feel he's using them for his own

ends. If the scenario I outlined conceming the metals trans-

Yers via Namibia and SWAN) is correct, they could want him

removed to get a bigger piece of the action."

Hawk agreed. He glanced over his shoulder as someone

out of my field of vision spoke. recognized the voice. This

was a full-fledged security meeting.


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' 'I must hurry, N3. The tsetse fly you sent has been

analyzed. Its genes have been tampered with, definite genetic

engineering of the highest caliber. The fly •s brain had a tiny

piece of iron in it."

"Iron? It grew there as a result of the gene splicing?

Why?"

"Our scientists say that the tsetse fly is now capable of

homing like a pigeon or other migratory bird. The slight

magnetic properties of the iron allow it to align in the fly 's

brain like a compass needle. "

' Can it directed using this piece of iron?" I asked.

Things clicked in my mind. The electronic humming, the

camera cases. the dials and the stick. The case carried a

power pack, the stick was a device for magnetically guiding

the tsetse fly to its target.

S 'There is no other reason to mutate a tsetse fly in this

fashion. Who cares if a tsetse fly can find its way home over a

thousand miles?" Hawk said acidly.

"What about any disease it camed?i'

• 'A particularly nasty version of yellow fever. We must

assume it is identical to what killed Dieter Karlik. Infection

causes death in less than ten minutes. The internal hemor-

raghing is the real killer, since only a few minutes of elevated

temperature will not kill an otherwise healthy man. "

' 'Karlik bled to death inside? ' ' I shivered. That was a nasty

way to go.

"What interests our scientists most is how Doctor

DNA—Faber?—has induced this virus in a tsetse fly. The

normal carrier is the Aedes aegytpi mosquito. "

' 'Can the South African ministers vaccinated against

it?"

'Against yellow fever, yes. Perhaps even against this viral

strain. But to what end, N3? Remember the sleeping sickness

and Ihassa fever ahd green monkey disease ? Doctor DNA has

a potent arsenal of diseases at his command. It is impossible

to guard against all of them. "

'd better check out Bron Fatrr right away. "


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' 'I must hurry, N3. The tsetse fly you sent has been

analyzed. Its genes have been tampered with, definite genetic

engineering of the highest caliber. The fly •s brain had a tiny

piece of iron in it."

"Iron? It grew there as a result of the gene splicing?

Why?"

"Our scientists say that the tsetse fly is now capable of

homing like a pigeon or other migratory bird. The slight

magnetic properties of the iron allow it to align in the fly 's

brain like a compass needle. "

' Can it directed using this piece of iron?" I asked.

Things clicked in my mind. The electronic humming, the

camera cases. the dials and the stick. The case carried a

power pack, the stick was a device for magnetically guiding

the tsetse fly to its target.

S 'There is no other reason to mutate a tsetse fly in this

fashion. Who cares if a tsetse fly can find its way home over a

thousand miles?" Hawk said acidly.

"What about any disease it camed?i'

• 'A particularly nasty version of yellow fever. We must

assume it is identical to what killed Dieter Karlik. Infection

causes death in less than ten minutes. The internal hemor-

raghing is the real killer, since only a few minutes of elevated

temperature will not kill an otherwise healthy man. "

' 'Karlik bled to death inside? ' ' I shivered. That was a nasty

way to go.

"What interests our scientists most is how Doctor

DNA—Faber?—has induced this virus in a tsetse fly. The

normal carrier is the Aedes aegytpi mosquito. "

' 'Can the South African ministers vaccinated against

it?"

'Against yellow fever, yes. Perhaps even against this viral

strain. But to what end, N3? Remember the sleeping sickness

and Ihassa fever ahd green monkey disease ? Doctor DNA has

a potent arsenal of diseases at his command. It is impossible

to guard against all of them. "

'd better check out Bron Fatrr right away. "


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"Yes, N3, you'd trst do that."

The picture faded to leave me staring at a field of white

snow on the television screen. I turned off the set and began

mentally preparing a cover story to present to D(Xtor Bron

Fatrr.

Or was that mctor DNA?

nie Medical Research Center in Town was housed in

a whitewashed building just off Azalea Street. I circled the

area twice to make sure of the routes in and out, having no

idea at all what to expect. finally satisfied that I could handle

any problems, I walked to the stoep, climtkd the steps and

went inside.

The small office smelled of disinfectant. I felt like I'd

walked into a hospital.

"May I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked in

Afrikaans. She was in her late fifties, gray-haired and with a

ramrod-straight posture. She would have txæn nght at home

on the paradegrounds reviewing the troops.

"I •m a rer»rter, I answered, also in Afrikaans.

O 'American," she said, switching to English.

"Is my accent so bad"' •

S' Your clothing is of the wrong cut. Nothing I can m»int to,

but it is different.

"But I bought it here in Cape Town. "

"Perhaps. then, it's the way you wear it. What can I do for

you?" She had a brusque manner. a no-nonsense way of

spitting out each word. Her came out and

precise, as if she were being graded on her diction.

"I'm with Amalgamated Press and Wire Services, "

' 'Never heard of it. "

"International, out of Washington, D.C.," I continued,

refusing to let her slow me down. ' 'I want to do a feature

article on Ihtor Fatxr.••

she asked, as if the name was unknown to her.

"Bron Fatrr. I've heard good things about his work in

disease. The reading public loves to pick up stories new

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• 'Doctor Fatrr is not in Cape Town."

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I waited to hear the rest. When nothing came I prompted

her. ' 'Where is be?"

If I'd started pulling her fingernails out with pliers her

expression wouldn 't have tren much different. She wrestled

with whatever orders she'd given and finally relented.

."He is in the north."

"Since this lovely city Town is just at»ut as far

south in Africa as you can get . .

"Cape Agulhas is farthest south," she cut in.

[htor Fatxr t*ing north 't tell me much, ' ' I

finished. I didn't need a geography lesson.

' 'He is working with the animals. "

"In the Kruger Game Preserve?"

"Yes."

A long silence I felt as if we were two wild

tEasts tossed into an arena for some Roman emperor's plea-

sure. We circled each other verbally, testing, probing, wait-

ing for a show of weakness. If the Medical Research Center

was on the up and up, this odd trhavior was inexplicable. On

the other hand, if this was nothing more than a front for

Faber's more dangerous clandestine operations, it gave away

too much. Either way, Fatxr lost.

"Questions such as yours are not normally asked in the

she said, momentarily slipping into Afrikaans.

Union, "

Back in English, she added, "lhis is a close society. It does

not pay to too free with information. 9'

"I'm not with the government. Here are my credentials. "

I flashed a packet of documents at her. All looked legitimate;

all proclaimed me a memtEr of Amalgamated Press and Wire

Services. They'd passed muster by the police. Nothing this

woman could turn on them would show them to tE forgeries.

"Doctor Faber has been troubled by government regula-

tions recently," she said cautiously. "His experiments with

animals have saved numerous species from extinction.

the kind of stuff I want for my feature. "

' 'His methods are being hotly debated."

g 'What methods? I've heard he's a hotshot in the recom-


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binant DNA field. Doctor DNA, he's called." She tensed

slightly, then covered well. wanted to sing and shout. •mat

nickname had applied to Bron Fatpr. I was nearing the

end of my hunt.

g 'l never heard Doctor called that. "

"But he's saving animals with his scientific talents. That

kind of press could take the heat off. Look, this is a touchy

field. In the U.S. the city of Cambridge tried to stop MIT

from establishing a recombinant DNA lab. As a result, they

lost out to Stanford. Advances of staggering magnitudes

come out of there every day, it seems. South Africa was the

first with heart transplants. Mayt* Faber can recapture the

spotlight in medical research, take it away from Stanford.

This can be a dynamite article. "

"Doctor Fatrr does not want such an article written. 'i

Hat, cold. very Germanic in the precision of its delivery.

"A shame. Well, since I 'm here, tell me the Medical

Research Center. "

She smiled. Somehow, it didn't lighten the mood in the

room. Her smile still registered a forty-Erlow on any ther-

mometer.

"The Medical Research Center is a nonprofit group dedi-

cate to the of mankind. We provide free medical

assistance to anyone needing it. Our staff is the best trained in

all of South Africa. We even have branches in Johannesburg

-and Pretoria. "

"Doctor is the founder?"

"Yes. "

I felt as if a door had been slammed in my face. Knowing

I'd gotten all the information I was likely to—and it was

damned little—I left to return to the Springbok Hotel.

Bron Fatw was north. Maybe on the Kruger Game Pre-

serve. He had founded the Medical Research Center. It pro-

vided a nice cover for travel from Johannesburg to Cal*

Town and gave him a reason for shipping items in and out o

the country marked as medical supplies. His work on the


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Kruger Game Preserve allowed him some freedom of move-

ment in a country obsessed with restricting travel.

I had a feeling atk)ut Fat*r. He was the one I wanted.

Between CalE Town and Johannesburg, I changed from a

correspondent for Amalgamated Press and Wire Services to a

medical technician and paramedic. reporter cover had

run its usefulness. To get close to Fatrr through his Medical

Research Center required another sort of wedge. The woman

in Cape Town had been close-mouthed, and I had no reason

to believe I wouldn't run into even more tight-lipped people

in Johannesburg. The entire work force in the Medical Re-

search Center might instructed to clam up when recombin-

ant DNA was mentioned.

Whether that came from the general mood of the country or

from Doctor Bron Fates specific uses of his research re-

mained to be seen. But I'd find out. one way or the other.

The airport was larger than I'd expected. Considering

Johannesburg is the largest city in South Africa, I had little

reason for the surprise. From the air, the city appeared

smaller due to the incredible sprawl of the "suburbs. " The

gold mines of the Witwatersrand hemmed Johannesburg in

on three sides. Huge piles of white debris poured down

mountainsides until it appeared a perpetual snowstorm had

inundated the country. The sunlight glinted off the white dust

mounds and turned them into gigantic crystals. Not even the

sand dunes around Lake Michigan are as spectacular.

Landing at the airport was on the dicey side. Strong winds

buffeted the plane and, when I got off to walk to the terminal

and the inevitable bout with internal customs, the air was

filled with dust reminiscent of the American Dust Bowl.

I'd learned the ropes for getting through cutoms. Wilhel-

mina and Hugo were safely hidden, customs men didn 't

even tx»ther using x-ray equipment. *Iheir searches were

more thorough than any I ever seen before—but I 'd come

prepared.


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Outside the terminal, safe, and ready to find Fatrr, J

stopped for a moment and stared at the skyline. It impressed

me more from the ground than it had from the plane. The

center of the city sported several skyscrarrrs of reslrctable

proportions. Almost two million people squeezed into the

area. Out of that population, someone had to able to give

me a lead on Bron Faber.

And someone would.

"Hey, mister, cab? Avoid the tsotsis."

'S What are those?" I asked the cabbie. He smiled, two

front teeth capped in gold.

"The gangs, mister, the gangs. They are everywhere. You

uy to walk in Johannesburg, you die. They don't call this

Duiwelstad for nothing. 's

Devil City? Crime in any large metror»litan center is bad.

I didn't see any reason why Johannesburg would exempt,

but to hear this man talk, a continual struggle for survival

went on in those seemingly placid streets. Doubting his

word, thinking he was only hustling a foreigner for an extra

buck, I got into the cab.

"Take me to the Hotel Goli. 'i

' 'You got the gold to stay at that place, mister? It mighty

J knew an outright appraisal of my net worth went on

automatically in the man's head. The more he thought I had

on me, the higher the taxi fare would be.

S'Meeting someone there. ' '

w 'He must be very, very rich. " He slammed down the flag

on the meter and roared off. The traffic on the road into the

city grew heavier and heavier as we drove.

"It's a she," I lied. "And she's not toopoor, if you know

what I mean."

"Hey, you lucky man, mister. Lemme give you some

advice. You think I 'rn hustlin' you over the fare; look

around. Don' ever get caught out there. And lock your

door. "

He had turned off the main road and wound around along a


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side road. I closed my eyes for a moment and mentally

projected a map of Johannesburg. I knew approximately

where the Hotel Goli was. This was only a slight deviation

from a straight course, and one that just might be quicker.

ne number of cars on the other street had increased to the

point where traffic jams hapTmed every few bl(Xks.

I glanced out after I 'd assured myself I wasn 't being taken

for a ride—in senses of the word. The sight sickened

me. Blacks close to starving to death lined the road, hands

held out for anything their way. Groups of youths

congregated on street comers in the fashion of teen-agers

everywhere. But the difference was in the way they held

themselves. These weren't amateur punks; these kids had

gone all the way to pro.

' This is a rich city, mister," called the driver, sweating

due to all the windows being rolled up. "But two thirds are

black and most all of them—us—are dirt pcx)r,."

"Aren't there any jobs? The gold mines are flourishing.

Those are the richest mines in the world!"

"Hard to get jobs. Too many workers, not enough dig-

ging. Besides, many of the men don't want to leave their

families. "

"What's that got to do with it?"

"They work in mine, they live in compound. Like that

one. Over there."

San Quentin looked more apr*aling. The compound had

barbed wire in double banks around it, whether to keep

people in or out I couldn't tell.

"Shift usually lasts three months at a mine. Then a miner

gets to go home and see his family. They don 't want nobody

smuggling out their precious gold, no sir. "

In this counuy , it was hard to deternine who was the good

guy and who was the enemy. I settled back and tried to blank

out all around me. Finding Faber headed my list of priorities.

In fact, it was the only item on my list.

Still, checking into the Hotel Goli disquieted me. This was

luxury light years beyond anything I'd seen on the trip out


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here from the airport. I wondered if the cabbie gave all his

passengeß the grand tour.

The address for the Johannesburg branch of the Medical

Research Center etched firmly in my mind, I set off walking

in the early aftemoon. I'd been penned up too long and

needed the exercise, Besides ülat, I wanted a go«i, firsthand

look at Johannesburg. lhe streets of downtown Johannes-

burg were filled with looking men and women,

mostly white. As I walked due south. their numbers thinned

and I came to more residential sections of the city. Fine brick

buildings, some stone houses, akl with neatly kept and mani-

cured lawns and gardens, made me think of the ritziest

suburbs in the U.S. The small parks dotting the area were

miniature paradises. ne flowas bloomed profusely and

their odors were stronger than Johannesburg had

another side to its coin that the cab driver hadn't shown me.

And Faber's Medical Research Center rested in the middle

of this splendor.

Whatever else Bron Faber did, he played tx»th ends against

the middle well. Sam Uwanatk had praised him as aiding

SWAFO guemllas injured in battle. To put a clinic in this

neighborhood required high fees not likely to be paid by

injured Namibians.

*Well, well, well, ' ' carne the clipped words ofa teen-ager

sitting on a low stone fence. *'What have we here?"

J kept walking.

"You, I'm talking to you.' •

Turning to face him, I gave him a quick once over, He was

sturdy, big&ned. strong. The protruding ridges over his

eyes Jent him a Neanderthal appearance and the stubby fin-

gers drumming against the rock wall showed that he was

keyed up. Drugs, maybe. I couldn•t see if his pupils were

dilated. I guessed that they were.

'So talk, I 'm listening .

. if you have anything to say. "

"A brave one. You talk big, bucko, for sorneone trespas-

sing on Rudders' turf. "


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' 'And what's a rud&r? Something to a tX)at? " I grew

tired of this battle of wits. My oppment was already out of

ammunition.

"Stop!" I kept walking. Only when heard the telltale

snick of an 0Fning switchblade did I stop and face him

again.

He held the blade in front of him, the butt end of the handle

firmly pressed into palm of his hand. He knew how to use

the knife, even if he had picked a switchbla&. Most switch-

blades are made of a low-quality steel and aren 't much go«i

for serious fighting. The sight and sound of the long blade

flicking open at the of a button is supposal to scare

most p«yple into submission.

I wasn't in the least

' 'I'm for the MalicaJ Research Center," I said.

For a moment. the punk's face clouded in confusion. This

wasn't tlr way I was suppsed to act. Frightened, yes.

Macho, maytE. But never.

"I'm gonna cut you gxxi. You're on Rudders' turf. "

"You said that. What are the Rudders? Some sort of

"We're the tsotsi around. Killed one damn big

bunch of scumbags, we have.

"How nice for you. Where's the Medical Research

Center? I'm a lmking for a job. "

"You can start work on yourself!"

His lunge was clumsy. ne long, shiny blade passed

harmlessly to my right side as spun. With a deceptively

gentle grip on his knife hand, I turned back and jerked. His

feet left the ground as his ann tried to Ernd around on itself. I

held his arm aloft as his bcxiy fell. A loud popping noise

echoed down the silent street as his shoulder tore apart. ne

knife fell from lifeless fingers.

"You broke me arm, you bastard!"

'Probably only dislæated. You did say I should go out

*looking fcy patients. Want me to set it for you?"

He started bellowing at the top of his lungs. I didn't


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recognize the words. A distress code summoning the other

Rudders, maybe. My foot connected squarely with the pint

of his jaw. I broke the jawtK)ne and shut him up. He went

down in a lump.

I Sd acted too late. Almost a dozen young thugs came from

all over, like amy ants swarming into a termite nest. I didn't

see any guns. Wilhelmina stayed in her shoulder holster. I

wanted to avoid a loud confrontation, if at all pssible.

"Watchadotal*nji?" mumbled a youth who like

the clone of the one I Sd disabled. I slowly translated to,

"What did you do to Benji?"

'I'm a rn«lic and was just passing by. I heard him call out

for help. He was like that . .

"Lying bastard, snapr*d one me. I sidesteppai

as he lunged past. He tried to slash me with his knife. He was

high on something, too. His coordination was off, and he

missed by inches.

'Look , guys, I 'm just passing through. I want the Medical

Research Center headquarters. you know Doctor

Faber? He runs the Center. Their reaction me by

surprise. They all backed off. ney still ringed me in, but

they weren't attacking, I'd take any respite while consid-

ered the best way of getting away from the gang.

"You know Fat*r? " asked the one with greasy blond hair.

He spoke with enough confidence for me to peg him as their

leader. "You don't look like the type.

"The type?" I asked. "I'm looking for work as a medic

with Doctor FatEr. Do you work for him?"

"Work? He sells us dagga," cried the blond.

Doctor Faber's empire extended to many things. Illicit

repair work on SWAPO guerrillas. Recombinant DNA re-

search. Saving endangered species. Maybe extorting the

government of South Afnca out of millions worth of strategic

metals using some of the deadliest diseases in the world. Now

this punk said he got his marijuana from the good doctor. If

nothing else, Bron Faber led a checkered and exciting life. I

forward to meeting him.


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"You boys shouldn't tr out in your condition. Are all of

you high?' I glancei around the circle. ne ones that weren 't

wired out of their skulls had severe problems in other ways.

All looked like killers. •me vacant stare, the tensed, hyped-

up movements, the sight of the knives still in their hands all

led me to think getting away might prove more difficult than

I'd thought.

Talk wasn't going to do it for me.

I hadn't given the code designation of Killmaster for

nothing. I move fast. Three of the punks were out on the

pavement the others knew what This gave

me enough tiffE to sprint across the small park. I 'd hoped the

Rudders would tire fast and forget the hunt.

"Ihey didn 't. ney came on, whcx)ping and screaming like

savages. I remembered the black gangs I 'd seen on the way

into Johannesburg from the airport. The white gang intent on

slicing me into bloody ribbons differed only in race.

Ihe park was more extensive than I'd thought. Tiny

streams meandered through a small stand Of trees. I dived for

cover there, thinking I 'd dc»ble back and leave behind the six

teen-agers hunting for me. ney knew the terrain better than I

did. One for me, knife held low and in front.

I didn •t break snide. I feinted to the right with my body,

kicked hard, and batted the knife away. A punch to the throat

took my assailant out.

' 'There he is. He croaked Jesse! Kill the bastard. Kill

him!"

I ran again, taking off at an easy lope. the only

words the Rudders knew were, "Kill the bastard!" Their

education had been inadequate. Somehow, though, I knew

that these kids had gone to the best of schools, had never

missed a meal, and were as stinking rich as they were bored

'with life.

Social theory isn 't my long suit. How a society generates

youth gangs in the ghetto seems obvious; poverty, lack of

jobs, lack of money, lead to boredom and violence. Why it

works in exactly the same way at the other extreme end of the


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financial spectrum is beyond me. These weren't disadvan-

taged kids. These were upper-class youths. And all were

intent on killing me I 'd walked down their precious

street.

One good thing came out of my headlong flight. sighted

the Medical Research Center three or four blocks away. I

considered running there and begging for asylum, then de-

cided against it. When I presented myself, I didn't want to

explain why I'd left a string of broken bodies behind me. A

real medic break jaws and dislocate shoulders; he

fixes them.

"Stop, you bloody bastard!" screamed the blond. He

crashed into me when I did exactly as he'd commanded.

He went cartwheeling over my shoulder as I dropped into a

neatly executed seoinage. Ihe shoulder throw has never

a favorite of mine, but the opportunities to use it crop up all

the time. Anyone with an arrn nailing in the air is a perfect

target. In the blond punk's case. he waved that knife wildly

enough for me to slip in under it. shove my shoulder into his

armpit and simply turn. Ihe laws of physics and judo did the

rest.

I turned to the blond leader of the pack, and said, "Look,

idiots I 'm fed up with this. I haven •t hurt any of you—not yet.

But that's coming to an end fast. Either call off your dogs or I

get tough."

"Get him!" screamed the blond. I broke his arm, then

turned to the remaining Rudders.

They thought they had me. Even if twice their

couldn •t touch me, these out-of breath, over-eager, would-be

killers thought they had a chance. Two rushed me from

opposite sides. ducked. grabbed an extended arm, and

kicked backward. My heel landed in the pit of one 's stomach.

I twisted the arm until a howl of agony sounded sweetly in my

ears. Not slowing a bit, I spun again, broke one punk's

attempted stranglehold on my neck, and kneed him in the

balls.

After all that, the last one still came on. I don't know


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whether it was a matter of honor, stupidity, or just tring

stoned out of his bead. It didn •t matter. One on one, he didn 't

have a snowball 's chance in hell against me. I down

on his foot. When he reacted. I spun, drove my into his

stomach, then snapr:rd my fist back and into his face. He fell

like a ton of tricks.

I glanced out over the again-rmceful park. Here and there

txxiies slowly writhed in pain. It hardly seemed possible a

major battle had teen fought and won here in the past few

minutes. Both Wilhelmina and Hugo had remained silent

Ünroughout,

As I walked off, heading back into the center of Johannes-

burg, heard sirens. I picked up the pace but didn 't

run. The flaring blue lights atop the small police cars turned

the darkening landscape into an eerie, alien scene. Whatever

happened next, I felt safe. 'Ihe FX)lice would never believe

one man had done all that to a gang of toughs. They 'd look for

another tsotsi.

While the afternoon and early evening had tren hectic, it

had been trneficial, tcx». The brief workout had loosened up

my muscles, I felt fit as a fiddle, I'd found the medical

Research Center, and I was now ready to take on Bron Faber.


CHAPTER FIVE

Neariy getting myself sliced into prime ribs had been

insü•ucti ve in many ways. This city carried a strong undercur-

rent of violence to it that didn't surface with only a casual

examination. The crime rate soared sky high and the police

failed to cope with it. even with their crime swoops and their

patrolling the borders of the

Even the parts of town were dangerous, as I 'd found

out.

It had been a smar move on my part changing my cover to

medic from reporter. No one would have talked to me if I'd

poked around asking a lot of reporter questions. It had been

bad enough declaring myself a peaceful, noncombatant

medic seeking gainful employment.

This time I took a taxi out to the Medical Research Center.

As we drove past the park where I 'd done battle with the gang

of punks the day t*fore, it struck me how placid it all looked.

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No one would have guessed that I'd put down ten or so of a

tsotsi.

lhe clinic floated along like a bubble on a peaceful rx)nd.

The tranquility it radiated came in stark contrast to the vio-

lence I knew t»iled all around it. What struck me even more

forcibly was the knowledge that Bron Faber supplied to

the gangs in the neightx)rhood.

"Good morning," I said to the receptionist. She was

everything the woman in Cape Town hadn't Small,

petite, a green-eyed blond, she hovered on that thin edge

trtween the stunningly reautiful and the breath-takingly

gorgeous. FatEr had first-class taste.

"May I help you?" Even her voice came as music to my

ears. Soft, sweet, a voice that caressed and promised. I

took a deep breath and tried to settle down. ms was

business.

• 'I •m Nick Carter, a medic from England. I hoped I might

find the director of the Medical Research Center in. I'm

applying for a job."

She never batted an eye at my claim of tring from Eng-

land. I put on just enough of a British accent to make it

credible.

"I'm sorry," she said, glancing up at me. "We

. we

don't need any paramedics at this time. If you Sd only come

last week. I)octor needed an assistant for his work out

on the Kruger Game Preserve. "

' 'Doctor Fatrr?" said. "Is he the head man?."

"Yes, and such a fine doctor, 'i she said. My estimation of

her dropped a little. obvious hero worship in her voice

told of a crush on the mam I didn •t even know what Bron

Faber looked like and already I had him marked as a deadly

enemy. I'd hope this lovely blond would have seen through

his faqade to the darker side of his nature.

lhen again, I still didn •t know that Fat*r and Doctor DNA

were one and the same. simply assumed it.

"l 've heard of his work. With endangered species. It must


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be interesting working with a man who's sure to be nomi-

nated for a Nobel Prize one day. "

"You think he will? Oht he so deserves it," she gushed.

She leaned back in her swivel chair. The crisp starched white

uniform did nothing to hide very womanly curves. The day

was a bit hotter than the weather forecast had predicted, and

she wore the uniform unbuttoned a very unnurselike two

buttons to reveal a warm surge of breast. The woman seemed

oblivious to my examination of her, so great was her en-

thusiasm for Dr. Fatkr.

"Even in England we've heard of his recombinant DNA

work. With insects, wasn't it?"

"Insects and diseases of the animals in the park. He's

isolated several of the most virulent strains. And

. oh,

I'm not to mention his work." She actually

blushed. It had teen years since I'd found a woman who

blushed.

"Why not?"

"He is such a modest man. He doesn't like to boast or

carry on about his contributions. "

"But they 're such big contritm*tions!" I protested. "The

genetic engineering work has altered tsetse flies to able to

control them."

"You've heard that? Ohs marvelous. In a paper?

He's finally released that to the scientific journals?"

I nodded and went on.

"And look at these clinics, The Medical Research Center

in Cape Town does wonderful charity work. "

g EWe do here, too, though we're some distance from the

nearest location," she said solemnly. She really believed

everything she said. You can fcx»l some of the people all of

the time. "lt's difficult getting into the lcxations outside

Johannesburg. Chief Kaiser Mantanzima .

' 'Mantanzima?' '

"In the Transkei location for the Xhosa," she quickly

explained. It didn't do me any good. "The Chief positively


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refuses to allow us in to examine his Disease is rife

there. It's awful."

"l know something else that's awful," I said.

• 'What's that?"

"We've talking for almost five minutes and J don't

know your name. Again she blushed. I thought it made her

even prettier. It also made me wonder how she'd respond to

an indecent proposal. susl*cted she would stare in confu-

Sion and distklief, then decide no one could so crude as to

assume that two consenting adults ever did that.

"I'm Erica der Klerk. " She stood to shake hands. I took

another deep breath and wished for a cold shower. too. Her

white-stocking encased legs more than matched the TErfec-

tion of the rest of her body. I found it increasingly difficult to

keep my mind on Bron Fat*r. the man planted such a

lovely blond lady out front for just that very reason.

Erica der Klerk proved an excellent diversion.

"Most pleased to meet you," I said, sincenty ringing in

the words. *'And I'd really tx in your det* if you could tell

me where I might find a job, if Itkrtor Fatrr isn 't hiring right

now.

"Well, " she said, her gaze growing tX)lder as she studied

me, 'SDoctor has his assistant for the Kruger Game

Preserve, but we might need some help around here. I do hate

to tx)ther him about such things. I 'm supposed to the office

manager. "

"You 're not a nurse?"

am, but hardly ever get a chance to use my skills, "

said Erica. "So much haprrns here that I seldom get to

actually work with the patients.

"Paper work, you mean?"

'*That is awful. " she said, laying a delicate hand on my

forearm. As if she realized she'd taken some litrrty, she

pulled away as if scalded. I hadn 't minded at all. "But," she

continued, "the ordering. the shipping. the day-to-day

ation and coordinating patients and doctors is what takes the

time."


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"Shipping?" asked lightly.

73

' 'Nothing much," she said. I thought a tinge of blush

colored her cheeks again. S •mctor Faber ships a lot of

material Centers. We're the largest here in Johan-

nestlirg, Town facility handles overseas de-

liveries."

"And outgoing shipments?"

"Why, yes. Lately we've had a considerable amount of

medicines going to Namibia. "

nere wasn't any way to disguise metal ore as medicine,

unless managed to get the F*rmits and official ckxu-

ments, then alter them to get the strategic metals out of the

country. With the hold he had on the various ministers, I

doubted he needed to do much fancy shuffling around.

And then again, he didn't want the ministers he

threatened to know the destination of the shipments.

"l certainly admire Ihctor Faber's setup here. 'i

0' You do, eh? " came a deeply resonant voice from behind.

I turned and faced a man slightly taller than me and weighing

ten or fifteen pounds less. The name tag on the white lab coat

read "Faber. "

This was my man.

All I needed now was concrete evidence that he was

Doctor DNA.

s 'I certainly do, mctor Fatrr. And I 'm not just saying that

to get a job. "

"Wouldn't hurt if you were." He smiled disarmingly. I

thought I could like him a lot. His warmth and outgoing

manner lulled any suspicion I had of him. Yet the pieces to

this deadly puzzle were too sharply defined, too precise, too

damning. While it was all circumstantial evidence mixed in

with a lot of guesswork on my part, I'd my life he had

killed at least four South African ministers of state and had

sent the Bantu to kill me atx)a.rd The Easy Ride.

To kill with virulent diseases long thought under control.

I repressed a shudder at the memory of Dieter Karlik

burning with fever—and bleeding to death internally from


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NICK CARTER

the yellow fever he'd tren infected with.

'Your Ms. der Klerk has painted such a glowing picture of

your work that I'd tempted to volunteer my services. "

"But?" he prompted, hazel eyes twinkling.

' 'Butl 'd starve to death. I really do need a job that pays. "

"We can't offer much, but and board can part of

the deal. Would that suit you?"

"Yes! " I didn •t need to hide my enthusiasm. To be able to

stay here on the premises proved an extra bonus.

"Do you have a medical degree?" he asked. • 'I need to

know how much work I can squeeze from you. "

"I had two years of medical school, but the exFEnse drove

me to find work. I couldn't earn enough to pay for tuition

without working hours so long that studying impos-

sible. "

"So you 've had two years. What else?"

• 'I worked as a paramedic for several years in New York

City. "

"That explains the slight trace of American accent. "

I was happy I tossed in that part atx»ut working in America.

Faber was no one 's fool , whether he was Ihtor DNA or not.

I 've run across border patrol officers who can tell every place

a person has lived simply by listening to a few sentences.

neir skill borders on the uncanny. In a country like South

Africa where so many foreigners come and go due to the

extensive mining operations, the locals a good ear

for accents, too. ear was trtter than most. I'm good

when I put on an accent; the British pronunciations came

easily to me, also, In spite of that, he'd picked out the faint

remains of American English.

"Can't say I'm happy you picked up on it. My time in

America was not the best of times for me. "

S 'Oh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. ' 'Why not? live

found the United States a pleasant enough place the few times

I've been there. "

' 'The people, 'i I said without hesitation. ' s They have such

odd ideas "


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'S Well, yes, there is that, " he conceded. "But top-notch

medical facilities. Let's go check out a few patients and see

how you do."

"Thanks, Ihior Fatpr. "

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't hired you. But you might

do nicely. if your medical skills are honed f'

"l think he will do marvelously," piped up Erica der

Klerk.

As Fater and I went into the back of the clinic, I flashed the

blond my most winning smile.

"This clinic doesn 't have the emergency cases the

Town Center d(ES. I cater mostly to the prob-

lems."

"Such a fine neightx)rhood," I said. ' 'Looks very pros-

perous. Hard to believe there are problems of any sort here. ' '

"lhere are," he said, a touch of grimness entering his

tone. "Drug addiction is rampant. ne well-to-do children

are bored. They have too much time and money. Rather than

channel their natural energies into constructive areas, they

buy drugs and experiment with them."

you handle many natives here?"

"I go out to the I(ration once a week, when I'm in

Johannesburg. Sad out there, very sad. But no, we don't see

many natives."

I hoped that I wouldn't have to perform anything tryond

my first-aid training skills. lhe examination room was com-

pact and probably well stocked with drugs and equipment. I

didn't know. AXE trains its agents to patch themselves up

enough to keep going until the mission is completed, nothing

more. I 've closed my own wounds with staple guns and even

epoxy glue. I doubted if Doctor Fatkr would approve of those

as even rough-and-ready first-aid techniques in his sterile

clinic.

' 'It seems, Mr. Carter, that my patient has flown the coop.

The old gentleman was sitting here waiting for me when I

went to speak to Miss der Klerk. We 'II have to pstpone your

examination for, hmmm, about an hour until Mrs. Vorster


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comes in. I'll be around. Just acquaint yourself with the

facility. I felt a surge of paranoia. He had used my name.

We'd never Iken introduced. He must have tren eavesdrop-

ping on the conversation J had with Erica der Klerk. Fatrr

left me wondering if he I was more than a simple

paramedic. He'd given me carte blanche to snoop around.

Did he intend for me to use that freedo.m to dig through

drawers and seek out damning evidence?

Did such evidence even exist here?

I compromised by looking over the rcx)m, trying to impress

details on my mind. I also made every effort to find any place

that might conceal the evidence needed against the man, but

didn 't pry too far into them. That would come later, when I

was sure I was alone.

A tiny moan rattled from the far closet. At first I thought

I'd mistaken the soft breeze blowing for a human sound.

When the moan came again. I knew I wasn •t wrong. Opening

the closet door produced an unexpected result. A man atX)ut

sixty years old fell out backwards to sprawl onto the tiled

floor.

His face was gray and his breathing nonexistent.

O'Doctor Faber!" I shouted, dropping trside the man on

the floor. S'lhctor Faber!"

I immediately began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I blew

in, inflated the lungs and let the chest action naturally expel

.the air. I did this three times. then began work on his chest.

Hard pressure over the heart, release, pressure, release.

I shouted for Farrr again,

Erica der Klerk came in.

' 'Mr. van Riebeeck!" she cried.

"l think he's had a heart attack. Do you know what to

do?"

"Where's Doctor Faber?" she asked.

"l don't know. I-Eft for an hour. It doesn't matter. This

guy needs help---now! And we have to give it to him. Help

me."

"Keep going on the chest," she said. "I 'II take over the


77

mouth-to-mouth. " The thought flashed through my mind

what a lucky stiff this van Rieteeck was. Then the pun hit

me. He would a stiff if I didn 't get down to serious work.

Erica and I coordinated our efforts well. I felt feeble heart

action starting and the man's breathing ragged. His

t»dy res'x)nded to our ministrations.

Erica leaned back on her heels. her skirt pulled taut around

her firm thighs. She looked like a real angel, her blond hair in

disarray around her face and shoulders.

"Who is this?"

"Mr. van Ri&eck was the patient scheduled for nine. I

thought he'd left. "

"Falxr thought so, t(X). I found him in the closet. "

"The closet?" Erica turned and looked at the door. "God,

no! He must have thought it was the water closet. "

"And he had a heart attack and fell in. His fumblings to get

out must have closed the door trhind him," I finished.

"Sounds incredible."

"Mr. van Rietreck's eyesight isn't the tESt, nor is he

physically strong, " she said.

"We don't dare leave him alone. Can you handle him

while I .go find Doctor Faber?" I asked the woman. She

nodded. I hadn*t gotten ten feet down the hall when Fatxr

came striding up to me. I hastily explained what had hap-

pened. He shoved past me and rushed into the room.

I'll give him this. He worked quickly and efficiently.

Every order he gave us was sharp, precise, and clear. He

made no mistakes. Erica got him a heart needle of lydocaine

while I fitted an oxygen mask over van Rietreck 's nose and

mouth. In a few minutes, the old man breathed more easily

and color came back into his face.

' 'Miss der Klerk, get an ambulance here to transfer him to

Voortrekker Hospital. They have the facilities there for car-

ing for him. s' 'Ihe doctor steppd-back and wiped a single

of sweat from his upper lip. *Ihroughout, he had re-

mained cool. The perspiration was the only. sign that he'd

been under any strain at all. To me he said, "You saved his


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life, Carter. I wanted an example of your skill. I have it.

You're hired."

' Thanks. "

S 'Thank you. You saved a man's life. "

"That •s important in the medical field, '9 | said, watching

Fater closely.

"As in all things. nothing is absolute. Sometimes it is

necessary to sacrifice the healthy for the greater good, but in

this instance, you performed admirably. "

"Will you go with him to the hospital, Doctor?" asked

Erica.

"I'd better. Mr. van Rietreck's condition is still unsta-

ble."

"And he 's very wealthy, " said Erica under her breath so

that only could hear.

"You two can run the Center without me. Miss der Klerk

will show you the Carter. And good work, both of

With that. Bron Faber and the ambulance attendants took

the stricken man out and loaded him into the meat wagon.

Sirens blared and the ambulance raced off for downtown

Johannesburg.

'*It's been an exciting day. Usually emergencies don't

happen at the Center, " said Erica, tidying up her desk. Her

fingers lightly caressed the papers and almost hesitantly

pushed the work into folders.

s 'Do you always close the Center so early?" I asked. It was

a few minutes befor five o'clock.

' 'Our business comes during the day i Doctor Fat*r, when

he's in Johannesburg, will return during the evenings. I've

never seen how busy it is then. 't

"He handles it ail by himself?"

"Of course. He's very good," she declared positively. I

saw that Erica der Klerk had a very strong case of hero

worship going with Fatrr. With a little luck and some smarts,

I'd have her telling me all I wanted to know about the man. I


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wondered if she realized he came back to the Center to sell

marijuana to the neightMhood gangs? As far as I could tell,

the Medical Research Center existed solely to bolster Fat:rr's

cash flow. He r*ddled dope, he duped rich patients into

paying exorbitant sums for very little—and he used the

Center as a cover for his shipping activities.

I still had no concrete proof he was Ihtor DNA. I 'd

worked my way through the clinic and had turned up nothing.

The man kept very strict records of all transactions—the legal

ones. In the Union, the police might seize records at any

time. If Faber's illicit activities extended to extortion, he'd

hardly keep records of it here in Johannesburg.

My tEt was that the real evidence existed out in the veldt,

out at his wildlife research latx»ratory in the Kruger Game

Preserve.

"I 'm very glad I 'II working with Doctor Fatrr, " I said.

nen, softer, "And with you, Erica. You're very pretty. "

Her green eyes locked with mine. This time she didn't

blush, even though it was apparent our thoughtsvere pretty

much the same. Her breath came in short, quick pants that

caused her breasts to rise and fall in the most seductive

manner possible. Somehow, that third button on her uniform

came undone. Creamy white breast flowed up and threatened

to come spilling out.

I would 've caught it. My fingers ached to stroke over those

smooth mounds. Maybe it was the surroundings that got to

me as much as Erica's beauty. It had a long time since

I'd played doctor.

"Wh-why don •t you come back to my flat? I c-can fix us

she said. The slight stutter txtrayed her real in-

supper, "

terest.

"I'd be delighted."

We left, hips brushing. nis small friction sent both our

heart rates soaring. I felt it and I know Erica did. I saw a tiny

vein in her swanlike throat pulse and throb. By the time we

reached her apartment. about three miles away, just on the

outskirts of downtown Johannesburg, we both knew that


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would late. After we'd finished making love.

She closed the door and spun around, slipping into the

circle of my arms. I 'd had Erica as being the shy type.

There was nothing demure at:out the way she kiesed me. She

might blush but she knew what she wanted and how to go

about getting it.

Her lips parted slightly allowing my tongue to surge for-

ward. I moved over her tender lips, then snaked into her oral

cavity. Our tongues rnet and caressed, sliding past one

another. Breath coming hard, I tEgan flicking my tongue

against the tip of hers. When our tongues begm playing

hide and seek, dashing back and forth, my hands trgan to

wander.

Up and down her back felt the crisp, starched white

uniform. It had to go. I worked down to her womanly hips,

felt the flare of her rump, the meaty slabs, and

squeezed. She moved closer, her tx»dy grinding passionately

into mine.

My hands worked forward, then up. Her trlt came off.

nen I undid the three buttons remaining fastened on the

uprrr half of her uniforn. With a sigh, she broke contact

our mouths and stepped back.

"Oh, Nick, this is going to so good.'

"I know," I said. I didn't want conversation. My eyes

worked over her body as she shrugged her shoulders. Her

uniform top dropped to her waist. With a sinuous wiggle that

sent waves of desire pulsating through me, she rid of her

entire uniform. It lay in a pile around her slender ankles.

Erica stepped forward and away, clad only in bra, panties,

garter belt, and stockings. The lady sure knew how to dress

underneath. It was in stark contrast to the crisp, white uni-

form of moments before.

"You •re over-dressed," she accused. ' 'Let me do some-

thing about that. ' ' And she did. As her nimble fingers worked

over my clothes, I unhooked her bra. The woman Ss conical

breasts spilled forth. I held one in each hand, as if judging

their weight. More than ample was my instant evaluauon.


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ne penny-colored nipples hardened from both the sudden

exposure to the air and pure, simple lust.

We waltzed around, pulling and tugging at one another. I

had her bra and panties off and tried to work down the garter

and white cotton sgockings. She gently removed my hand

and said, ' 'Leave them.

1 did.

We flowed together like two streams running into a larger,

more vital river. Our mouths worked hard and our bodies

pressed close. Erica turned into a real tiger. She was totally

unlike the shy, reserved, blushing woman working in the

Medical Research Center.

"Now, Nick, take me now. Do it now"'

There wasn't any way to refuse her. We slipped down-

ward, gravity exerting its pull on our interwined bodies.

Somehow, the Ird appeared under us. It wouldn't have

mattered. We were both so turned on the floor would have

sufficed. I felt her stocking-clad legs scissoring on either side

of my tX)dy. I was glad she had insisted on leaving them on.

This was sexier than I'd have imagined possible.

Those wonderous, slim legs of hers parted wantonly. Her

dextrous fingers found my hardened length and tugged me

toward her center. Dampness greeted me, then warrn, cling-

ing flesh. I sank full-length into her core. We tX)th gasped at

the intrusion.

For an instant I thought she was having some kind of fit.

Her body went under me. But it was only need,

desire, stark lust. She arched her back and rotated her hips to

e my hardness all the way into her depths. With this

elightful urging, my own hips began to respond. Slowly at

first, then with gathering momentum, I didn 't seem to able

o give her enough. Erica was insatiable.

Then, like a string pulled too taut, she broke. Her sexual

aking pushed my own control to the limit. I'd thought I

ould rest for a moment, but Erica wouldn •t have any of it. If

ything, I'd only whetted her appetite. She wanted more.

nd she got it.

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Firm, smooth. I stroked. ne lovely blond moaned and

her words turning incoherent. But as she approached

another climax, she grated out from between clenched teeth,

"Yes, Bron, oh yes, take me. I need you, Bron my love.

She fantasized another lover—Bron Fat*r.

I finished in a rush, with Erica wildly clawing and moaning

all the while. We lay panting, drenched with sweat, on the

clutching each other.

"You're quite a surprise, Erica," I told her.

"Surprise? How is that?" She snuggled closer, her hot

breath gusting through the hair on my chest. Her teeth gently

nipped and bit as her tongue stroked and teased.

"This you is so different from the cool, at-work you."

it's difficult when I'm at the Center. "

"With him around?" She tensed. I held her close and

refused to let her flee. She soon subsided and snuggled even

closer. if that was possible.

"Yes. "came a tiny voice. ' 'I know I can never have him.

But I think it a lot. I'm not good enough for him. And

now he's going to marry that bitch from the Netherlands. "

'Who's that?" I asked, stroking her hair gently. Her own

fingers worked much lower over my body. I felt stimngs of

desire for her again.

"Alleen something or other. "

"Never say that you're not good enough for

You're as good as Alleen," I told her. "You might make

better time with Doctor Fatxr if you'd relax around him. "

"l can't. I Sve tried, but I can't."

The armchair psychoanalysis that flashed through my

mind told me the sad story. Erica's hero worship of Faber

prevented her from getting close to him. Instead, she went to

with any man who came along and fantasized that he was

Fat*r. ems didn't do much for my ego. but then; exciting

though Erica was, I had brought her here for information. A

spy must use all the tools of the trade—and sometimes sex is

one of them.


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A great deal more than feelings were at stake. If I

failed, no government in the world would safe from the

extortion threats offered by Ihtor DNA.

' 'Why don 't you transfer up to the Kruger Game Preserve

Center?" I asked. S Tat seems to be where he most

of his time. Being around would show him how much you

care for him. "

8' This doesn't bother you, my talking about Bron?"

"Not at all, Erica. In fact, I'd love to get up to the Preserve

myself. Sounds like a great research opportunity. Saving

endangered researching diseases. "

Her silence told me she was thinking, as well as playing

with me. I rolled onto my back to allow her to continue both

undisturtkd. Erica finally said, 'I can get you transferred up

there, if you want."

"I'd hate to leave you, but. .

" I let the sentence hang.

had to give her the chance to make all the right decisions on

her own. I was positive she thought that getting rid of me by

sending me out to the veldt would worthwhile. She'd

blurted out her secret love for Fat*r. Get rid of me, get rid of

a challenge to her fantasy world.

' 'You 're good in t*d," she said after a long time. "About

the trst. "

' 'It might complicate things if I stayed around. 1 don't

want to make you choose me and Doctor FatEr. " In

her mind, there could be no real decision. The fantasy lover

always came out on top over a real one. I sensed that it had

happened in the past with Erica der Klerk and would hapl*n

again in the future.

' 'It's not that, Nick. You do want to work in the veldt? It's

away from civilization and Doctor Faber's researches are

very dangerous. "

"I want to help him however I can. "

Lightning didn't strike me, which was just as well. With

the blond coiled around my tX)dy, it would have gotten her,

too. Her eager mouth worked all over. I moaned. I hoped she

decided to put through the request to ship me out to the

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Kruger Game Preserve Center soon. This was both exciting

and tiring dealing with her.

"I 'II see to it in the morning. "

It was a long, hard night. But sometimes the life of an

undercover agent is actually spent undercovers. Delightfully


CHAPTER SIX

It might have been my death warrant Erica der Klerk

signed for all the enthusiasm she showed. With a flourish,

she finished the paperwork on my transfer from the Johan-

nesburg Medical Research Center to the research station

Bron Faber maintained out in the veldt.

"I 'm sorry to see you go so soon, Nick, " she said softly,

her eyes dewy. "It's tren . . . good

"Very good, Erica," I said, meaning it. But my mind

already traveled ahead to the Kruger Game Preserve and

Faber's facilities there. I •d contacted Hawk and told him of

my progress. He told me to move faster. Doctor DNA had

made outrageous claims against the government of South

Africa and had killed three more top officials to reinforce his

demands. Two had gone via yellow fever and the last had

tren murdered with some quick-acting disease that remained

as yet unidentified. even by the experts at the Center for

Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. The man stricken with

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NICK CARTER

the disease had seemed to melt. his flesh turning into putty.

Along with the flesh went the nervous system. He 'd virtually

shaken himself to death.

Stopping mctor DNA became even more irnvrrative.

And I 'd put all my eggs in one basket. I went on instinct as

much as anything else. My hunch that Bron Fat*r was

responsible was just that, a hunch. If this lead didn •t pan out,

I was back to square one. And time was running out.

"l hope you don 't mind me saying what I did to you. " she

said suddenly. I looked into her green eyes. She blushed.

"What do you mean?"

' 'About Doctor having a new assistant. He tells me

to say that to all the people coming to look for work. He really

does need an assistant. "

"Maybe you should clear this with him," suggested.

"Wouldn't want you getting into trouble with him.

"Oh, no, Nick, thereis no problem. already spoke with

him. He was very impressed with your quick thinking. Mr.

van Riebeeck is doing nicely. They expect him to out of

the intensive care unit in another few days. He's going to

just fine, thanks to you."

Erica's words bothered me. She'd already spoken to

Faber. and he'd cleared my "promotion to assistant out on

the veldt. Was this just a convenient way of getting rid of me?

Nöho's going to question a lion at»ut dinner? Especially if

you think that dinner's been a human? Still. my job required

me to go into this with my eyes wide open.

"So all I have to do is catch the Center's plane?"

*'Yes, Nick. It's parked at the far end of the airport. " She

went back to shuffling papers, then looked up, unshed tears

in her eyes. "Give me a call now and then.

"I will. And I 'II let you know how he's doing." This

pleased her more than anything else. Fantasies are more real

than reality itself to some people.

The small plane emblazoned with the Medical Research

Center insignia of the entwined DNA double helix circled the


87

Kruger Game Preserve airfield, then spiraled down. I blinked

in the bright sunlight and tried to shake the misconceptions I

had about Africa. As a kid I'd loved the old Tarzan movies,

espcially the ones stamng Buster Crabtr. Swinging through

the jungles on a vine, giving out his yell, wrestling the killer

male lion—all of it was bunk.

Technically, there aren't any jungles in Africa. There are

only rain forests, and in this part of the continent it's mostly

dry veldt, with plains stretching to the horizon. Further to the

south and west is the Kalahari, one of the most arid regions on

earth. Next, the famous yell was a composite; no single man

ever gave it in the movies. Finally, the male lion is almost a

parasite. ne female lions do the killing while the male

watches and then reaps the rewards.

None of the reality took away from my feelings. Africa.

Birthplace of humankind. Far to the north was the Olduvai

Gorge. Zebras and giraffes and leopards and gemstx)k raced

those plains, animals extinct in all other parts of the world

and bordering on vanishing even here.

Here also was Bron Faber's research center, miles from the

nearest civilized outpost. The compound had been patterned

after a native kraal, making it more of a family unit than a

city. lhe few buildings all fastened together with walkways

or shared walls, giving the of an extended family

arrangement.

ne plane landed, taxied and came up to the end of the

runway. The taciturn pilot gestured for me to get out. I did.

He spun the single-engine plane around and took off. I was

left behind in a cloud of choking dust.

"Well, some reception," I said to myself. lhe buildings

were almost a half-mile distant. d hefted my single bag and

started walking. Halfway there, a snorting noise froze me in

my tracks.

I 'd heard similar sounds trfore when I 'd huntedjavelina in

south Texas in the hills around Austin. Those boars are the

most dangerous in the world. l.nng, sharp, dirty fangs will rip

you apart if you miss on the first shot. And sometimes even a


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good. solid hit with a high-powered rifle won't stop those

miniature tanks. They barrel on, snapping and foaming at the

mouth. A dangerous pig is hard to with.

Ahead of me, rooting in the dirt, was the ugliest pig I'd

ever seen in my life. Atk)ut the size of a boxer dog, the

warthog had long. curving fangs that looked all too func-

tional for my taste. Hairless except for a mane like a lion 's, it

stared cross-eyed at me. I put down my bag and loosened my

jacket. My Luger was free in its holster but I hesitated making

the move to draw it.

A 9mm shell has enough stopping power for most

applications—it's adequate for killing a man. I doubted if

even a full clip of bullets could stop a charging hog this size.

Those tusks gleaned yellow and filthy in the bright African

daylight. Visions of them ripping me into bloody shreds sent

a cold ripple up my spine.

' •Hallo! ' • came a pleasant female voice from further down

the path. "How are you?"

Eyes fixed on the warthog. I called out, ' *Stop! nere's an

animal in the pathway. Dangerous one.

"What? Oh, a warthog? Lhn't worry. That's only Fred-

die."

"Freddie?" The warthog turned, as if confused.

'Shoo, Freddie. nat 's a bad scaring Herr Carter like

that. t'

I 'II be damned if the warthog didn't slink off to its burrow,

turn around, and then back in.

' 'A pet of yours? ' ' I asked. A deep breath took the edge off

the adrenaline high I rode.

"Something like that," she laughed. I got my first good

look at the woman. Perhaps twenty-one, raven-dark hair,

ebony eyes, a pale complexion, and a figure that promised

excellence in all curves. She wore a slightly baggy safari

jacket, long khaki pants, and heavy boots. A faint whiff of

perfume drifted to me on the warm wind: Chanel.

"You have the advantage on me, in more ways than one.


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You have mystical power over the wild beasts of the veldt, ' ' I

said, nodding toward Freddie's burrow where only an ugly

snout protruded, "and you know my name while I don't

know yours. "

'Herr Carter. I am so glad to see that Freddie didn't scare

you unduly. You are too gallant. " Her words were heavily

accented. Dutch. It came as no surprise when she introduced

herself.

am Alleen Kindt. "

"Doctor Fates fiancée. Pleased to meet you. And I'm so

happy to tk here to help out your future husband. " Ihe way

her face clouded told me that things didn't run smoothly

between her and FatEr. This gave me a wedge to push in

further. But that would have to wait until later.

' 'Come into the house. Bron—l)octor out on the

veldt. He . .

he is working on his latest project.

' 'The insect problem? ne genetic engineering on the

tsetse fly?' • I She winced. I 'd hit another sore spot.

Things went very poorly her and Fatrr.

Again, she didn't answer. dark-haired woman called

out to a native to fetch my bag.

"Chinua will get you settled. ' • thanked the woman, but it

was to her back. She walked off, mopping her face with a

delicate lace handkerchief.

To Chinua I said, must have offended her. "

"No, she is like this much lately. "

"Why?" A shrug was the only answer I got. I studied the

"Isn't the name Chinua a Nigerian

native, then asked,

name?" That stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Yes. How do you know that?"

' 'I've wanted to work in Africa all my life. I read a lot.

Means, uh, don't tell me .

' 'lhe name means Chi's own blessing. "

For the ItX) tritr of Nigeria, each had a rrrsonal angel or

guardian known as Qi.

"What are you doing this far south?"

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Again the shrug. He must have learned it from an Italian. It

had the same eloquence that meant everything and nothing at

the same time.

"Must mctor Fat*r," I gushed on. "He's a great

man. i'

. " Chinua

"An ambitious man. He will conquer all of

stopped in mid-sentence.

"Disease?" I finished for him. Ihat wasn't what he

meant, but he still nodded. "Yeah, Faber is a great man. The

work he dcrs with mutated diseases is of untold potential

value to mankind."

"They sometimes get out of hand. s'

"What's that?" I cried. "You mean some of the diseases

escape the

w 'I know little, but many have died since I came six months

ago. ney die deaths, some with fever, others turning

almost white. Ihe irony in his voice matched the hurt. "He

says they were natural deaths, deaths to expected in the

veldt."

"But you don't think so. "

"This is a nice room," he said, avoiding the question.

"You will like it a lot during your stay.

• 'I hope it's a long stay. I 'm looking forward a great deal to

working with mctor Fat*r. I dropped onto the and

watched Chinua, then noticed what was missing from the

room. I stopped him and asked, "Where's the mosquito

netting? I don't want to eaten alive by insects.

"You will not be. Doctor doesn 't allow bugs inside

his kraal." Chinua left me thinking that over. I carefully

searched the small room, looking for bugs both real and

electroruc. I found neither. It felt as if J 'd dropped in the

middle of Adventureland in Disneyland; bugs were forbidden

and didn't dare show their antennae.

The prospects for recombinant DNA were stupendous, if

this control of the environment had tren engineered by

Faber. However. that sword cut both ways. Great good might

countered by even greater evil.

I had to find out—soon.


91

-ne common room looked as if it had been decorated by a

Hollywood stage manager. Zebra skin adorned the floor and

a springbok head had tEen nailed to the wall. The wicker

chairs were identical to ones I 'd seen in a hundred jungle

movies and were as uncomfortable as they looked. Still.

simply sitting and collecting my thoughts had much to rec-

ommend itself. Ginua brought me a drink made from

undefinable liquids that tasted slightly bitter but which

quenched my thirst nicely.

Staring out an orrn window across the veldt, I saw hilly,

rocky areas in the distance.

"Those are kopjes," came Alleen's voice. I rose to face

her.

"Please, sit down, Herr Carter. We do not demand

civilized courtesies out here in the wilderness. '

"You don't like it out here, do you?" The answer to that

question was obvious in every word she spoke, the way she

frowned as she gazed over the veldt, the very camage of her

body.

"It's not that so much," she answered. s 'I could like it

here. Never love it like Bron, but it might become home. I

just miss him so. "

' 'His tnps to Johannesburg and Cape Town must be

longer than I thought. Ihe people at the Medical Research

Center in Johannesburg complain he is there all too short a

"Erica der Klerk?"the dark-haired woman laughed. "She

has such a crush on Bron. If he were there twenty-four hours a

day, three hundred sixty-five days a year, Erica would com-

plain missing a day every leap year. "

' 'You two have met. "

"She doesn't like me, not one bit. "

"Because you took Bron away from her. " The color that

rose to the woman 's pale cheeks reminded me a great deal of

the way Erica blushed at every little remark.

"I hardly took him away from her. Bron and I met in

Amsterdam six months ago. He attended an international

conference on applications of genetic engineering. My father

also attended. "

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"And you went along for the ride. "

"Hardly," she said, a wistful sound in her voice. "My

father was very ill. He needed constant attention.

"You use the past tense. "

"My father died soon after.

S'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry into your private sonow. "

g 'That's all right. You are the first to show any attention to

me in the months I've been stranded out here. "

"Surely, mctor . . "

"Bron is seldom here. " I filed that away for future refer-

ence. He was seldom in either Town or Johannesburg.

Where did he his time, then?

' 'It must be very lonely for you."

' 'If Bron paid more attention to me, it would trarable.

As it is, well . .

She shrugged and I knew then where

Chinua had picked up the gesture. "This place is too dry. I

am used to higher humidity, having lived t*low sea level

near the Zuider Zee. The Netherlands is such a compact

country, no waste space, so lush and pretty and colorful. Not

like this. She glanced out over the veldt. The prairie-like

expanse held only dust and exotic anirnals, not windmills and

tulips and canals.

"Why not return to Eurorr? Or at least Johannesburg?" I

asked. 'Tere 's no need to exile yourself out here if there's

nothing to keep you occupied. "

"Bron wants to get mamed soon. But the date is always a

few weeks in the future. He says that Johannesburg is too

violent a city , that Cape Town is too far away, that Pretoria is

too provincial. " She sighed. S 'Sometimes I think of leaving,

going back to the Netherlands. But his work is so important

I'd feel like a traitor leaving him.

"Which project is this? The insects? Or the disease preven-

tion for the endangered scxcies?"

'Both of those projects are completed. Bron talks of the

plagues that will descend on all the cities due to the silly rules

and regulations the South African ministers insist on enact-

ing."

"What regulations are those?" I couldn't fathom her

DocroR DNA

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