Human Read online

  Startled, Jayne stopped and looked up. Her corn-flower blue eyes were all innocence, but an impish grin tarnished the facade.

  “No such thing, Ms twenty-four-going-on-fifty!” Jayne yelled back. “It's about time you got your eyes off the microscope and onto some of the scenery here, especially today!”

  Ivy laughed. By now several people strolling between lectures were looking up at her with curiosity. Their long-distance exchange was louder than the general chatter and shuffle of passers-by. Suddenly acutely aware of the attention she was getting, Ivy dismissed Jayne with a wave and made to bend inside the window frame again.

  “Hey, wait!” Jayne called. “I've got a message for you. I've just been up to Lab Six. You’re wanted. Apparently I'm second rate…”

  The words hit the empty window as Ivy grabbed the brown woollen jacket slung over her chair, and swept from the room.

  “Hey, Match-stick!”

  Ivy was rolling her eyes and grinning before she even turned around. She hugged her brown woollen jacket tighter across her chest. As predicted, the unruly mop of blonde curls calling out to her was waving a beer glass in one hand, while the other clutched a handful of poker cards. At least a dozen undergraduates were crowded around him in the refectory beer-garden. Some held playing cards but all carried boisterous enthusiasm and glassy-eyed veneration for the man in the middle.

  “Come hither and join the revelry! A celebration is afoot! Tonight we raise ale in thy honour, My Lady.” The man stood up and bowed theatrically, knocking the wine-barrel table with his knees and sending the cohort of poker players around him into a tirade of good-natured abuse. “Grace us with thy red-haired beauty that doth eclipse the setting sun itself and shame it into hiding this eventide,” he called with a flourish. “What say you?”

  “Nay, methinks not,” Ivy replied, laughing. “Thou art a cheat and foolish drunkard, My Goodman. In times past I’ve had but naught a coin after your trickery at the table. Besides,” she shook her head, “I’ve got a date.”

  Liam Kent’s face fell in mock offence. “Me? Cheat? By my troth, I would never! Thou woundest mine honour, fair maiden!” He dropped back onto his bar stool with a thunk. Liam tossed his profusion of curls back insolently. “A curse upon you then, Match-stick. I hope thy date is hairier than I am.” His companions laughed. Behind Liam, a couple of first-year girls scowled toward Ivy. Inwardly, she groaned.

  “Undoubtedly.” Ivy smiled and turned to continue on her way.

  “Ives?”

  She turned back to face Liam. The others resumed their rowdy poker game but Liam’s eyes were momentarily intense and clear.

  “She needs her meds,” he said, “was waiting for you.” Liam’s carefree, roguish exterior had been dropped entirely. Ivy nodded, exchanging a look that spoke more than words could. Moments later, his raucous voice rejoined the poker match with a cheer of “Wench, beakers all round!”

  Ivy kept walking.

  She had always appreciated that Liam was, well, incorrigibly Liam. They’d begun university at the same time, seven years prior. From the first day, he was renowned in their undergraduate zoology lectures for amusing students and testing lecturers' patience. Igniting and fuelling animated debate about ethics in science research, his conviction in first year had led to a mass student boycott of laboratory dissection, forcing administration to decree optional participation. There was no doubt of his passion though, and his later progression to research included being employed as lab supervisor in the Animal Behaviour department.

  Ivy ran the fingers of her free hand along the cool, rough wall and looked out across the grass. In stark contrast, modern glass and steel constructions towered beyond the sandstone. In recent years, university progress had been marked by new and expensive headquarters for engineering, biomedical science and contemporary arts departments, among others. The juxtaposition of old against new was welcomed by most. Funding through building grants and private bequests gave an elite group the opportunity to have their names forever adorned on new buildings in the prestigious university. It was a small price to pay for the eager chancellors to extend their political and academic prestige. The monumental institution now sprawled across the better part of an entire suburb. At its fringes, developers exploited ageing residential properties for mass student accommodation. An entire life could be lived sheltered within this cocoon.

  This inner court of sandstone and greenery was the heart though and was more a home to Ivy than anywhere else in the world. Having spent eight years at Melbourne University and navigating its many walkways daily, Ivy felt as much a part of the landscape as the wonted gargoyles that guarded the sandstone walls. In the vein of true medieval architecture, the somewhat grotesque carved heads had been placed to convey water away from the side of the buildings during tropical summers, the rain gargling as it streamed through their stone throats.

  “Hey, Mendel… Hi, Darwin… Leakey…” she nodded to their blank stone eyes as she passed them by. I’ve been here way too long.

  Ivy turned her back to the sunshine and passed through the open doors of the Biological Sciences building. An expansive reception area and gleaming desk was flanked by wide steep staircases. She took the stairs two at a time. Slipping behind an unmarked door, she corridored through the building. She passed countless laboratories of students all peering carefully over Petri dishes and microscopes. The strong smell of formalin assaulted Ivy's nostrils. Dissection. Finally escaping into bright sunlight behind the building, a heavy metal door held guard to a second building. The words Behavioural Research Laboratory Six were marked in red. Ivy shuddered, hating the implication of cold steel as she pulled a key from her jeans pocket.

  Mice were the secondary occupants of this area; a row of monitoring cages stretched the length of the room with scribbled whiteboards above them. Once deep inside however, the building gave way to a partially roofed ceiling of strong wire walls. A large airy enclosure filled with branches, climbing ropes and trusses, fruit and toys appeared like a concealed Eden, with trees and shrubs snaking in from the surrounding high gardens. Colourful and comfortable, it looked like the messy tree house of a small child.

  The untidy occupant, Kyah, was a ten-year-old bonobo, quite small for her age, and currently stretched out across an overhead branch, one long black arm dangling apathetically, while the other picked at a spot on her chest. Her brows were furrowed.

  “How's my girl?” sang Ivy as she unlocked the enclosure. Kyah let out a delighted hoot, swung down from the branch and reached out to Ivy, gently stroking her arm. “Not happy, eh? Poor Jayne, you know she loves you… and it sounds like Liam’s had an earful too. I'm sorry I'm late, I've been busy today. Forgive me?”

  Kyah hooted softly and lifted Ivy’s right hand, placing it gently against her own dark cheek. Her deep brown eyes locked Ivy’s, searching for a moment. Then, satisfied that she had her companion's full attention, Kyah turned and scooted back to her branch and picked up an orange that was lying on the floor under it. She sat down with her back leaning against the wire wall, and proceeded to pick off the orange peel and eat it.

  With her long arms and gracile build, Kyah was smaller than a common chimpanzee. Her petite ears were set aside a curious, black face and high forehead with long, fine black hair neatly parted in the middle. Her reddish lips and wide nostrils were used to great effect in pulling faces, and the fine, black hair that coated her body, gleamed with care.

  Ivy looked around the enclosure. As expansive as it was, she still felt restricted by its wire walls. Ivy couldn’t help but remember that day, two years back, when she had first visited it.

  “Soy chai, Liam?” Ivy had called down the corridor as she walked. The laboratory itself was unfinished with empty shelves and new desks piled with boxes. Liam had overseen the re-design over the past few months in anticipation of his newest arrivals. Three chimpanzees had been transferred from a rehabilitation centre for language research during the prior week, and another was due to arri
ve. Judging by the amount of noise coming from the wired enclosure at the back of the lab, it just had.

  A crash echoed up the corridor. There was a cacophony of ear-splitting screeches and the sound of something thudding against metal, over and again.

  “Jesus Christ! Get back! Give her some space!” someone yelled.

  Ivy rushed toward the noise and stopped in the doorway. A handful of overalled men surrounded a transport carrier against the far wall of the enclosure. One had a tranquiliser gun cocked toward the cage. Liam lunged toward him.

  “Just get the hell away! You’ve done enough damage dropping the damn cage! Put the gun down.” He was furious.

  Inside the cage, a black chimpanzee was screeching hysterically and banging its head against the steel bars. The door hung open. Its chest was scratched and bleeding. On the playground of ropes and branches above, three others were jumping and screeching in agitation at the goings-on. It was chaos.

  “'Scuse me, Maam.” A man pushed into the room from behind Ivy and quickly surveyed the situation. He strode toward the one with the tranquiliser gun and passively directed the gun nozzle down to the floor. “Leave it Coop. I’ll meet you fellas outside.”

  “What about the cage?”

  “It can stay for now.” As the others made their way out, the newcomer turned to Liam who was trying desperately to calm his newest charge and held out his hand.

  “Paul Nerov, Resource Management,” he said. Liam eyed the hand in annoyance before shaking it.

  “Resource management,” Liam repeated sarcastically. “You deliver post-it-notes too?”

  “Hmph,” smiled the man, “That’s a good one.” He pulled out a clipboard of papers. “This one’s been through quarantine, she’s fine.” He shot a dubious look to the animal in the cage. “Well, physically, at least. You signing for her?”

  “Yes,” Liam growled, “and dealing with the god-damn insanity your assistants left when they dropped that crate.” The crated chimpanzee was still hysterical.

  “Sorry mate, a few of them are new,” Nerov said. He looked disinterestedly around the enclosure while Liam signed the documents.

  “I feel I should probably congratulate you, Kent,” Nerov said. “I heard you were the man behind the foreclosure of Cosmitech. That’s no mean feat considering the political connections of that board of directors. I worked for them years ago. Bunch of bastards if ever there were.” Nerov looked down at the chimp with a furrowed brow. “I’m surprised this one’s still alive after what they did to her.”

  “She’s the only one left,” Liam scowled. “There were hundreds but most of them had to be euthanazed. They went through hell, each and every one. Chimps, macaques, dogs, cats, rabbits. The AEC guidelines for the management of pain and distress were routinely ignored.”

  “Mmmm.” Nerov clucked sympathetically. “Like I said, bunch of bastards.” He was quiet for a moment. “I remember this one you know. From when I worked for Cosmitech. I brought her in.”

  “You what?!” Liam spat.

  “Had to feed my family Kent. A job’s a job.” Nerov ignored Liam’s scathing look. “I remember her because she was so quiet. Twelve months old, shipped from a research facility in the US. Probably black market before that. Tiny little thing- I had her in a dog carrier and not a peep from her the whole drive. Just those big eyes looking right at me.” Nerov scratched the back of his neck. “Couldn’t sleep for a week after I left her there.”

  “Good,” Liam said. His jaw was clenched.

  “What did they do to her?” Ivy asked, stepping forward. Liam looked surprised, having not noticed her in the doorway. He shot Nerov a dirty look.

  “Let’s see shall we?” Liam pulled the clipboard from Nerov’s hand and flipped through the pages. “For her first year, she was a candidate for respiratory syncytial virus.” He looked at Ivy. “In other words she was forced under a general anaesthesia every ten days to collect nasopharyngeal swabs and tracheal irrigation samples to monitor her resistance to the virus.” He looked grimly at Ivy, who had her hand over her mouth. “Three cardiac arrests in twelve months.”

  “But she was still a baby-” Ivy said.

  Liam nodded. “Since then it’s been hepatitis and malaria research as well.”

  “What did-” Ivy began.

  “Isolation in a sterile bio-containment facility,” Liam answered. “Serial blood draws, inoculations and biopsies as often as they wanted to. She would have been surrounded by technicians, firing pre-loaded syringes through a dart gun to immobilize her,” he said grimly, “more often than not hitting her vulnerable body parts by mistake as she struggled to escape it. She had eight years of terror in complete isolation. No wonder they couldn’t rehabilitate her.” Liam finished his rant with disgust and handed the clipboard back to Nerov. “The very sight of a human is terrifying to her.”

  “Never wanted to do it Kent,” Nerov said dourly as he prepared to leave.

  “Bet this one didn’t want you to either,” Liam said.

  “Don’t doubt it,” said Nerov.

  Liam crouched down, intent on calming the caged animal. “Wait, Nerov, before you go, what’s her name?”

  Nerov looked at Liam, one eyebrow raised. “Whatever you want it to be. The form says she’s called K32.”

  “K32?” Liam shook his head. “Not here, she’s not.” He looked up at Ivy. “You name her, Match-stick. Pick something nice.”

  Ivy was taken aback. “You want me to name a chimpanzee?”

  “Of course not,” Liam replied, tiredly. “I want you to name a bonobo.”

  Compelled to stay, Ivy watched as Liam placated the three chimpanzees above with some food. He ordered assistants to create a temporary divide to keep the others from the bonobo’s cage and spent hours trying to entice her from the tiny prison. Every time he got close, K32 would scream and bash the open cage door against the wire enclosure wall. She hit her head against the bars and scratched at her chest until it bled freely. As each minute passed, Liam grew more desperate. He stood outside the enclosure, well past dinner time, raking his fingers down his face.

  “I just don’t know what to do. She’s terrified of me, the chimps, everyone. I thought she’d be alright here, but she needs so much more.”

  “Isn’t there a rehab facility she can go to?” Ivy asked. “Somewhere better equipped?”

  Liam’s expression was grim. “There’s no room anywhere else and no funding even if there was. It was me or the needle.”

  Ivy sighed. “Go home Liam. You both need rest.”

  “I can’t leave her. Look at the state she’s in.”

  “Well, I’ll stay then. All night if I have to.”

  Eventually, Liam agreed.

  There was something so disturbing, so human about K32's anxiety. Academia had taught Ivy to look at the animal scientifically, detached, and never to project her own human thoughts and emotions into its behaviour. Never anthropomorphise. But as Ivy stood there, watching it rock and stare in its prison of fear, broken beyond repair, her instincts screamed human. This creature saw only fear and pain in humankind, and silently, Ivy understood that fear. Humanity sometimes seemed too painful to be a part of. There was loneliness in being human. And loss. It was easier to hide. To deflect with a smile and stay safe. Ivy shivered, suddenly cold.

  Very slowly and with not a little trepidation, Ivy stole over to the far corner of the room and sat on the concrete floor next to the enclosure wall. Cold steel bars were between them. K32 shrieked, backing into the crate.

  All night Ivy sat on the frigid concrete, occasionally making soothing sounds, but mostly just sitting quietly, sharing in her isolation. Over the following week, Ivy only left for lessons and sleep, returning early each morning, to tempt K32’s appetite with fruit and cups of water, mostly unsuccessfully. Liam busied himself with the unpacking and care of the others, grateful that Ivy was willing to stay.

  Gradually, the bonobo seemed to become accustomed to her presence. As Ivy daydreamed
against the steel bars on the fifth afternoon, she realised that K32 had left her open crate. When dusk descended, the bonobo had moved closer still. It was so gradual, Ivy barely noticed. Finally, there was nothing between them but unforgiving metal bars. Ivy reached her hand up to curl around the steel. Painfully slowly, with her eyes to the ground, K32 copied her. As the bonobo’s long fingers curled over Ivy’s, the metal underneath seemed to melt away.

  From a memory long buried, Ivy finally found it. The perfect name.

  “Kyah,” Ivy whispered. “You aren’t a number anymore. You’re Kyah.” Ivy repeated it softly, over and again. Eventually, Kyah looked up. An immense sadness within her deep, brown eyes made Ivy's heart ache. Kyah pushed her fingers through the bars towards Ivy's face. Ivy covered them with her own.

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn't alone.

  From that moment on, they had been inseparable. For two years now, Ivy had become surrogate mother to the bonobo who had been orphaned so many years before. Her socialisation and behaviour had improved dramatically. Now ten years old, Kyah was Ivy’s clandestined companion around campus, occasionally seen loping by her side through the grounds at dusk and spending countless hours playing in the enclosure. Others found refuge here, as an intermediate hospice between rescue and retirement. Long-term placement in rehabilitation facilities and zoos were scarce, so a small number of chimps stayed as permanent residents, observed for behavioural studies. Working closely with dedicated keepers, they learnt symbols and words with varying levels of success. Kyah quietly observed their lessons, sitting apart while the humans invaded her living space. Although she was never taught the lexicons directly, Kyah knew many of them and frequently drew them on the concrete floor in chalk to emphasize what she wanted from Ivy. Sandwich, tickle, yellow rope, quiet…

  With years of abuse still etched in her memory, her quiet and anxious manner would trust no one but Ivy. Her head twitched sharply to the left, a nervous habit she developed in her solitary infancy. This was accompanied by a tendency to pick at her chest, leaving tiny scratches scarring her heart.