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Authors: Michael Crichton

Tags: #child_prose

The Lost World (15 page)

BOOK: The Lost World
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Laboratory

A
s Thorne's eyes adjusted to the low light, he saw they were standing inside an enormous space, consisting of row after row of rectangular stainless-steel boxes, each fitted with a tangled maze of plastic tubing. Everything was dusty; many of the boxes were knocked over.

"The first rows," Malcolm said, "are Nishihara gene sequencers. And beyond are the automatic DNA synthesizers."

"It's a factory," Eddie said. "It's like agribusiness or something."

"Yes, it is."

At the corner of the room was a printer, with some loose sheets of yellowing paper lying beside it. Malcolm picked up one, and glanced at it.

[GALRERYF1] Gailimimus erythroid-specific transcription factor eryf1

mRNA, complete cds. [GALRERYF1 1068 bp ss-mRNA VRT 15-DEC-1989] 

SOURCE [SRC] 

Gallimimus bullatus (Male) 9 day embryonic blood, cDNA to mRNA,

clone E120-1.

ORGANISM Gallimimus bullatus

Animalia; Chordata; Vertebrata; Archosauria; Dinosauria;

Ornithomimisauria. 

REFERENCE [REF] 

1 (bases 1 to 1418) T.R.Evans, 17-JUL-1989. 

FEATURES [FEA] 

Location/Qualifiers

/note='Eryf1 protein gi: 212629"

/codon_start=l

/translation="MEFVALGGPDAGSPTPFPDEAGAFLGLGGGPRTEAGGLLASYPP SGRVSLVPWADTOTLGTPQWVPPATQMEPPHYLELLQPPRGSPPHPSSGPLLPLSSGP PPCEARECVNCGATATPLWRRDGTGHYLCNACGLYHRLNGQNRPLIRPKKRLLVSKRA GTVCSNCQTSTTTLWRRSPMGDPVCNACGLYYKLHQVNRPLTMRKDGIQTRNRKVSSK GKKRRPPGGONPSATAGGGAPMGGGGDPSMPPPPPPPAAAPPQSDALYALGPVVLSGH FLPFGNSGGFFGGGAGGYTAPPGLSPQI" 

BASE COUNT [BAS] 

206 a 371 c 342 g 149 t

"It's a reference to a computer database," Malcolm said. "For some dinosaur blood factor. Something to do with red cells."

"And is that the sequence?"

"No," Malcolm said. He started shuffling through the papers. "No, the sequence should be a series of nucleotides…Here."

He picked up another sheet of paper.

 

SEQUENCE

 

1 GAATTCCGGA AGCGACCAAG AGATAARTCC TGGCATCAGA TACAGTTOGA GATAAGGACG

61 CACGTGTGGC AGCTCCCGCA GAGGATTCAC TGGAAGTGCA TTACCTATCC CATGGGAOCC

121 ATGGAGTTCG TGGCGCTGGG GGGGCCGGAT GCGGGCTCCC CCACTCCGTT CCCTGATGAA

181 GCCGGAGCCT TCCTGGGGCT GGGGGGGGOC GAGAGGACGG AGGCGGGGGG GCTGCTGGCC

241 TCCTACCCCC CCTCAGGCCG COTGTCCCTG GTGCCGTGGG CAGACACGGG TACTTTGGGG

301 ACCCCCCAGT GGGTGCCGCC CGCCACCCAA ATGGAGCCCC CCCACTACCT COAGCTGCTG

361 CAACCCCCCC GGCGCAGCCC CCCCCATCCC TCCTCCGGGC CCCTACTOCC ACTCAGCAGC

421 GGGCCCCCAC CCTGCGAGGC CCGTGAGTGC GTCATGGCCA OGAAGAACTG CGGAGCGACG

481 GCAACGCCGC TGTGGCGCCG GGACGGCACC GGGCATTACC TGTGCAACTG GGCCTCAGCC

541 TGCOGGCTCT ACCACCGCCT CAACGOCCAG AACCGCCCGC TCATCCGCCC CAAAAAGCGC

601 CTGCTGGTGA GTAAGCGCGC AGGCACAGTG TGCAGCCACG AGCGTGAAAA CTGCCAGACA

661 TCCACCACCA CTCTGTGGCG TCGCAGCCCC ATGGGGGACC CCGTCTGCAA CAACATTCAC

721 GCCTGCGGCC TCTACTACAA ACTGCACCAA GTGAACCGCC CCCTCACGAT GCGCAAAGAC

781 GGAATCCAAA CCCGAAACCG CAAAGTTTCC TCCAAGOGTA AAAAGCGGCO CCCCCCGGGG

841 COGGGAAACC CCTCCGCCAC CGCGGGAGGG GGCGCTCCTA TGGGGGGAGG GGGGGACCCC

901 TCTATGCCCC CCCCGCCGCC CCCCCCGGCC GCCGCCCCCC CTCAAAGCGA CGCTCTGTAC

961 OCTCTCGGCC CCGTGGTCCT TTCGGGCCAT TTTCTGCCCT TTGGAAACTC CGGAGGGTTT

1021 TTTGGGGGGG GGGCGGGGGG TTACACGGCC CCCCCGGGGC TGAGCCCGCA GATTTAAATA

1081 ATAACTCTGA CGTGGRCAAG TGGGCCTTGC TGAGAAGACA GTGTAACATA ATAATTTGCA

1141 CCTCGGCAAT TGCAGAGOGT CGATCTCCAC TTTGGACACA ACAGGGCTAC TCGGTAGGAC

1201 CAGATAAOCA CTTTGCTCCC TGGACTGAAA AAGAAAGOAT TTATCTGTTT GCTTCTTOCT

1261 GACAAATCCC TGTGAAAGGT AAAAGTCGGA CACAGCAATC GATTATTTCT CGCCTGTGTG

1321 AAATTACTGT GAATATTGTA AATATATATA TATATATATA TATATCTGTA TAGAACAGCC

1381 TCGGAGGCGG CATGGACCCA GCGTACATCA TGCTGGATTT GTACTGCCOG AATTC

Distribution [DIS]

Wu /HQ-Ops

Lori Ruso /Prod

Venn /LLv-1

Chang /89 Pen

PRODUCTION NOTE [PNOT]

Sequence is final and approved.

"Does this have something to do with why the animals survived?" Thorne said.

"I'm not sure," Malcolm said. Was this sheet related to the final days of the manufacturing facility? Or was it just something that a worker printed out years ago, and somehow left behind?

He looked around by the printer, and found a shelved stack of sheets. Pulling them out, he discovered that they were memos. They were on faded blue paper, and they were all brief.

 

From: CC/D-P. Jenkins

To: H. Wu

Excess dopamine in Alpha 5 means DI receptor still not func-

tioning with desired avidity. To minimize aggressive behavior in

finished orgs must try alternate genetic backgrounds. We need

to start this today.

 

And again:

 

From: CC/D

To: H. Wu/Sup

Isolated glycogen synthase kinase-3 from Xenopus may work

better than mammalian GSK-3 alpha/beta currently in use.

Anticipate more robust establishment of dorsoventral polarity

and less early embyro wastage. Agree?

 

Malcolm looked at the next one:

 

From: Backes

To: H. Wu/Sup

Short protein fragments may be acting as prions. Sourcing

doubtful but suggest halt all exogenous protein for carniv. orgs

until origin is cleared up. Disease cannot continue!

Thorne looked over his shoulder. "Seems like they had problems," he said.

"Undoubtedly they did," Malcolm said. "It would be impossible not to have them. But the question is…"

He drifted off, staring at the next memo, which was longer.

 

INGEN PRODUCTION UPDATE 10/10/88

From: Lori Ruso

To: All Personnel

Subject: Low Production Yields

Recent episodes of wastage of successful live births in the

period 24-72 hours post-hatching have been traced to contami-

nation from Escherichia coli bacteria. These have cut produc-

tion yields by 60%, and arise from inadequate sterile

precautions by floor personnel, principally during Process H

(Egg Maintenance Phase, Hormone Enhancement 2G/H).

Komera swing arms have been replaced and re-sleeved on

robots 5A and 7D, but needle replacement must still be done

daily in accordance with sterile conditions (General Manual:

Guideline 5-9).

During the next production cycle (10/12-10/26) we will sacri-

fice every tenth egg at H Step to test for contamination. Begin

set-asides at once. Report all errors. Stop the line whenever

necessary until this is cleared up.

"They had problems with infection, and contamination of the production line,' Malcolm said. "And maybe other sources of contamination as well. Look at this."

He handed Thorne the next memo:

 

INGEN PRODUCTION UPDATE 12/18/88 

From: H. Wu

To: All Personnel

Subject: DX: TAG AND RELEASE

Live births will be fitted with the new Grumbach field tags at

the earliest viable interval. Formula or other feeding within the

laboratory confines will no longer be done. The release pro-

gram is now fully operational and tracking networks are acti-

vated to monitor.

 

Thorne said, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Yes," Malcolm said. "They were having trouble keeping the newborn animals alive, so they tagged them and released them."

"And kept track of them on some kind of network?"

"Yes. I think so."

"They set dinosaurs loose on this island?" Eddie said. "They must have been crazy."

"Desperate, is more like it, Malcolm said. "Just imagine: here's this huge expensive high-tech process, and in the end the animals are getting sick and dying. Hammond must have been furious. So they decided to get the animals out of the laboratory, and into the wild."

"But why didn't they find the cause of the sickness, why didn't they - "

"Commercial process," Malcolm said. "It's all about results. And I'm sure they thought they were keeping track of the animals, they could get them back anytime they wanted. And don't forget, it must have worked. They must have put the animals into the field, then collected them after a while, when they were older, and shipped them to Hammond's zoo."

"But not all of them…"

"We don't know everything yet," Malcolm said. "We don't know what happened here."

They went through the next doorway, and found themselves in a small, bare room, with a central bench, and lockers on the walls. Signs said OBSERVE STERILE PRECAUTIONS and MAINTAIN SK4 STANDARDS. At the end of the room was a cabinet with stacks of yellowing gowns and caps. Eddie said, "It's a changing room."

"Looks like it," Malcolm said. He opened a locker; it was empty, except for a pair of men's shoes. He opened several other lockers. They were all empty. Inside one, a sheet of paper was taped:

Safety Is Everybody's Business!

Report Genetic Anomalies!

Dispose of Biowaste Properly!

Halt the Spread of DX Now!

"What's DX?" Eddie said.

"I think," Malcolm said, "it's the name for this mysterious disease."

At the far end of the changing room were two doors. The right-hand door was pneumatic, operated by a rubber foot-panel set in the floor. But that door was locked, so they went through the left door, which opened freely.

They found themselves in a long corridor, with floor-to-ceiling glass panels along the right wall. The glass was scratched and dirty, but they peered through it into the room beyond, which was unlike anything Thorne had ever seen.

The space was vast, the size of a football field. Conveyor belts crisscrossed the room at two levels, one very high, the other at waist level. At various stations around the room, clusters of large machinery, with intricate tubing and swing arms, stood beside the belts.

Thorne shone his light on the conveyor belts. "An assembly line," he said.

"But it looks untouched, like it's still ready to go," Malcolm said. "There are a couple of plants growing through the floor over there, but, overall, remarkably clean."

"Too clean," Eddie said.

Thorne shrugged. "If it's a clean-room environment, then it's probably air-sealed," he said. "I guess it just stayed the way it was years ago."

Eddie shook his head. "For years? Doc, I don't think so."

"Then what do you think explains it?"

Malcolm frowned, peering through the glass. How was it possible for a room this size to remain clean after so many years? It didn't make any -

"Hey!" Eddie said.

Malcolm saw it, too. It was in the far corner of the room, a small blue box halfway up the wall, cables running into it. It was obviously some kind of electrical junction box. Mounted on the box was a tiny red light.

It was glowing.

"This place has power!"

Thorne moved close to the glass, looking through with them. "That' s impossible. It must be some kind of stored charge, or a battery…"

"After five years? No battery can last that long," Eddie said. "I'm telling you, Doc, this place has power!"

Arby stared at the monitor as white lettering slowly printed across the screen:

 

ARE YOU FIRST-TIME USER OF THE NETWORK?

 

He typed:

 

YES.

 

There was another pause.

He waited.

More letters slowly appeared:

 

YOUR FULL NAME?

 

He typed in his name.

 

DO YOU WANT A PASSWORD ISSUED TO YOU?

 

You're kidding, he thought. This was going to be a snap. It was almost disappointing. He really thought Dr. Thorne would have been more clever. He typed:

 

YES.

 

After a moment:

YOUR NEW PASSWORD IS VIG/ amp;*849/. PLEASE MAKE A NOTE OF IT.

Sure thing, Arby thought. You bet I will. There was no paper on the desk in front of him; he patted his pockets, found a scrap of paper, and wrote it down.

 

PLEASE RE-ENTER YOUR PASSWORD NOW.

 

He typed in the series of characters and numbers.

There was another pause, and then more printing appeared across the screen. The speed of the printing was oddly slow, and halting at times. After all this time, maybe the system wasn't working very

 

THANK YOU. PASSWORD CONFIRMED.

 

The screen flashed, and suddenly turned dark blue. There was an electronic chime.

And then Arby's jaw dropped open as he stared at the screen, which read:

 

INTERNATIONAL GENETIC TECHNOLOGIES

SITE B

LOCAL NODE NETWORK SERVICES

 

It didn't make any sense. How could there be a Site B network? InGen had closed Site B years ago. Arby had already read the documents. And InGen was out of business, long since bankrupt. What network? he thought. And how had he managed to get on it? The trailer wasn't connected to anything. There were no cables or anything. So it must be a radio network, already on the island. Somehow he'd managed to log onto it. But how could it exist? A radio network needed power, and there was no power here.

Arby waited.

Nothing happened. The words just sat there on the screen. He waited for a menu to come up, but one never did. Arby began to think that perhaps the system was defunct. Or hung up. Maybe it just let you log on, and then nothing happened after that.

Or maybe, he thought, he was supposed to do something. He did the simplest thing, which was to press RETURN.

He saw:

 

REMOTE NETWORK SERVICES AVAILABLE

 

CURRENT WORKFILES Last Modified

R/Research 10/02/89

P/Production 10/05/89

F/Field Rec 10/09/89

M/Maintenance 11/12/89

A/Administration 11/11/89

 

STORED DATAFILES

 

Rl/Research (AV-AD) 11/01/89

R2/Research (GD-99) 11/12/89

P/Production (FD-FN) 11/09/89

 

BOOK: The Lost World
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