"So you're a shrink as well as a cop?"
"I'm a disillusioned woman, Kier. Maybe numb from the pain myself."
He put his hand to her face for just a moment, then shook his head. "I guess I don't like depending on other people."
"What if we changed the word to 'trust'? What if we said you don't like the feeling of needing to trust someone?
''When you were at that university, with your wife, where she was the hotshot, where she knew everybody, came from a prominent family, knew her way around, how did that feel? Did you maybe worry just a little bit about what if she cut you loose?''
"I think I was confident of her loyalty."
''So when you moved back to your turf, where you knew everybody, where you were the hotshot, where you were in control, did that feel different? Did you really need to trust her back here?''
"Any of us feels insecure if we're out of our element."
"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you not being able to love somebody when it takes a lot of trust. Actually, I think I'm talking about you not being able to love somebody."
"I can love Willow. Are you questioning that?"
"Love can never be built on a lie. Until you tell her what you have in mind for love-this passionless caring sort of thing that you call 'stir the oatmeal'-then you can't love her."
"Well, no one can fault you for not speaking your mind." He gave her a little smile.
''No, I speak my mind well. Go ahead and change the subject. I know you're dying to.''
"Remember I was going to tell you what I read, something I figured out."
"Yes," she said.
"It's something that I only barely understand. I think I have an idea of how, at least in the early stages of their research, they created the God Model that enabled them to figure out gene function. They call it DNA chip technology."
"I remember reading something totally unintelligible about that."
"I think I understand the basics of how it works," he said. "Are you ready for more biology?"
"As long as there's no lab."
"Just the theory."
Kier began putting the food on the table as he talked.
"In each cell is a little factory that produces one or more types of protein. Instructions to the factory regarding what kind of protein come from the messenger molecule RNA."
She dished up the beaver tail, trying to cut a sizable hunk for herself. But her mind was mostly occupied with Kier's explanation and didn't focus on the fact that she was using an ordinary butter knife.
"Wait, wait. Let me make sure I've got this. When a cell wants to send a message to make some particular protein, it sends out RNA."
"Right. Let's use this," he said, pulling out a sharper knife.
"This RNA is unique to that particular gene."
"That's right. The RNA is just a mirror image of the DNA that makes up the gene."
"Beavers are tough guys," she said.
"They are." They both took a few bites, saying nothing. Then Kier began again with his mouth full, obviously intent on his thought.
"So at a given moment in time if you collect the RNA that a cell is giving off, then you will have a fingerprint of both the involved DNA and, if you know enough about the process, the protein that is being created. Another way of saying it is that you will know which gene is activated."
They both ate ravenously. Kier stopped talking to take a few more bites.
"The quantity and type of RNA that is given off by various cells may change as circumstances change. Such changes could include stress, disease, hormonal surge, tough beaver tail, passionate sex… The patterns of the proteins made by those cells change as the body sends signals to deal with the new situation."
"So the trick is to discover which genes are sending out RNA in response to the condition under study," she said.
Kier continued chewing. "Exactly."
"And this DNA chip measures it."
"Sort of. To create a DNA chip, droplets of DNA from different genes are put on a chip. They can put thousands of droplets on each chip. When Tillman's researchers wanted to know what RNA was produced under a given bodily condition, they could extract RNA from the cells of whatever living tissue was affected and expose it to the chip. By seeing which DNA droplet matched the RNA, the researcher could tell which gene was activated as a result of the illness or condition under study.''
"I follow that. You know in advance which DNA is in each droplet. The chip detects which droplet the RNA matches, and then you know which gene it came from."
"That's right. Then by studying a person who has recently been infected with a disease, for example, they can learn through the RNA from various organ samples which genes are involved in fighting the disease, and where relevant, which are involved in propagating the disease."
"So this would help them understand disease processes."
"Right," he said. "Causes, cures, the works. But to do this efficiently, you would need human subjects. And you would need a sample of every disease you wanted to study. So it becomes clearer why all the diseases. But if they were, for example, using Tiloks, we would at the very least have a bunch of sick Tiloks. And for what I'm talking about, you'd be regularly punching holes in their bodies to get tissue samples from organs so it wouldn't be a secret."
"So they're not doing that on the Tilok tribe. You're thinking if the reference in this RA-4TVM study was to human infants, then they were cloning people and using the clones for medical research."
"That's right. First they used this chip technology on the same cloned infants. Later they just took organ samples and ran the RNA through the computer. And that's how they got light-years ahead of the rest of the world's scientists."
"So they sacrificed babies to make progress," Jessie said.
"It seems too outlandish to be possible. But I believe it, even if I can't prove it."
When they finished eating, they lay exhausted on the bed. Both fell instantly unconscious.
It happened in the middle of the night, after they had been sleeping for hours. Nothing that he could recall had awakened him, but he opened his eyes with a start. A creaking sound disturbed the still cabin. He couldn't tell its source. For no discernible reason he became very uneasy.
"We've got to leave right now."
He was shaking her awake. He turned on a small light, grateful that he had covered the windows. Her mouth opened, probably to ask why.
"Get dressed. I'll throw the food in the pack and get some other things."
"What is it?" she asked, already pulling on her jeans.
"No time to figure it out." He had his pants on, then his outer shirt, leaving his T-shirt for her. They struggled into the camouflage outerwear. Kier began cramming more canteens, professional mountain-climbing gear, and snare material into the pack, all of which he had hauled from a trapdoor in the floor.
"Let's go." Five minutes had passed since it first hit him. Too long. "Out the back window."
He helped her through the window and led her straight away from the cabin into the forest so that someone watching the front would detect nothing. Once again, however, they left a trail in the snow. After two hundred yards, they circled, coming back to the creek that they had followed down to the cabin. Remaining in the creek so that they would leave no tracks they headed back uphill toward the caverns.
"Where in the hell are we going?"
"Hide in the caves."
"Why not follow the creek down? Your whole tribe could be-"
"If they figured out the creek, they'll be waiting below."
"But how do we know-"
"We don't know anything," he cut in. "It just didn't feel right."
As if in response, an explosion rocked the mountainside behind them, reverberating in the fog. M-16 automatic-weapon fire rang out.
"I'd say they just destroyed my friends' new cabin. With luck we have a minute or two before they start on our track."