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  “You'll need antiseptic on that,” Ivy said breaking out of her reverie, as she watched Kyah picking once again at her inflamed chest. Ivy retreated to the locked first aid cabinet where she found not only Kyah’s medication, but also a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The word ‘matchstick’ was scrawled on the top. Tearing it open excitedly, Ivy caught her breath. It was a book. Ancient, fragile and well read, but solidly bound. ‘On the Origin of Species’ was printed in faded gold lettering down the spine, ‘1883 edition’. A lump caught in her throat as she touched it reverently. You’re too much sometimes, Liam, Ivy thought. She tucked it carefully inside her jacket and walked back into Kyah’s cage.

  Leaping above her in the maze of ropes and ladders, the three other residents hooted playfully to each other. Kneeling in front of her on the floor, Ivy smeared antiseptic across Kyah’s scratched chest. The bonobo’s body stiffened with the sting but she didn't strike out. Of all the staff that cared for her, only Ivy was trusted to administer her medication.

  Kyah curled affectionately into Ivy's lap and then changed her mind. She picked up a yellow stick of chalk lying nearby. In wide strokes on the concrete floor, Kyah presented Ivy with her request. See birds now. Tree.

  “I’ll get you out of here this afternoon Ky,” soothed Ivy taking her hand, “I promise I’ll be back as soon as it’s safe.”

  Ivy got to her feet and Kyah followed her to the wire door with her head down and eyes shining. The bonobo trailed long, sensitive fingertips over the steel bars as Ivy locked her within them. An aching heart dogged Ivy’s steps as it always did walking away, with little consolation gained by knowing that her promise was sincere.

  CSIRO Radio Physics Conference Suite, Darling Harbour, Sydney.

  A thousand kilometres away, overlooking Sydney harbour, Dr Neil Crawford scowled into his scotch. Slamming it on the table he turned from the sheets of glass that walled the sleek hotel room from the traffic-jammed streets below. The blue banded sphere emblazoned on the coffee mug was splashed with amber liquid and he flicked his hand in irritation. The map of Australia in the centre of the logo seemed to mock him. He butted his cigarette into a marble dish of complimentary mints.

  “This is bullshit,” he growled. “We’ve been hanging by our toenails trying to get these readings – I need some answers!”

  No response. Neil pulled at the knot in his tie and took a deep breath. In his younger days, being stuffed into a laboratory at the beck and call of his superiors had rankled his ego, but now he wondered if he'd actually had the upper hand after all. It was at times like this, that being on the ground floor was the only cure to insufferable incompetence.

  “What- is- this- thing- and- why- the- hell- can’t- you- track- it?”

  The conference phone crackled with the awkward shuffle of bodies in chairs. He pictured their eyes darting as they silently jousted from the responsibility of bearing bad news. Finally, a woman’s low, calm voice sounded through the speaker.

  “Director, it’s only a matter of time, the readings were getting stronger day by day. Forty-eight hours of corrupted data is just a hiccup – and Dimitri’s working on a recovery. We'll have it- soon.”

  “Soon? Not good enough and you both know it.” The danger inherent in Neil’s restrained reply was effective.

  Her smooth voice faltered with doubt. The excuses kicked in. “Look Neil, our equipment isn’t sensitive enough. If we could just get more data- a stronger source point – then we could isolate this … anomaly. We need more data.”

  “We need to be discreet!” Neil spat back. “Whatever the hell we’re picking up here needs to stay in that room. I can’t afford to draw attention to this by opening communication with NASA yet – we’ll lose the ball and any rights along with it. I’ve already got the board breathing down my neck, so we’ve got to get this right before we hand it over. Do you want to explain to the NASA Board of Directors that we fucked up again?”

  He pictured Cassandra Chevalier pouting on the other end of the line, Dimitri Angelis hiding behind her skirt. Both were digital systems engineers under his umbrella in the CSIRO Division for Astronomy and Space. In his opinion, both were quickly becoming dispensable.

  At least Cassandra has other assets. Neil smirked lewdly to the benefit of no one. Since she’d arrived at the sprawling ITC Centre, Cassandra had elevated rapidly to senior research level at the Radio Physics Headquarters. Twenty kilometres north-west of Sydney, the Marsfield Laboratories were home to one hundred and eighty researchers managing data from the CSIRO Australia Telescope National Facility, ICT Centre and Anglo-Australian Observatory. Cassandra was confident, intelligent and shrewd. She knew how to play the game.

  He exhaled into his fist. Neil had seen twenty years in office, a game of arse-kissing he played with the same affected interest he had paid his ex-wife. This discovery was intrinsic to his plans. He knew he was already on thin ice. Johnston did it, they set me up to fail, the bastards. And now the inquiry with NASA… Jesus Christ, I need this one.

  This energy mutation – potentially capable of powering an entire city, was the perfect parcel. He wasn’t going to let a minx and her pet nerd screw it up for him.

  “Okay kids – we need a new plan,” Neil said. “This data stays with us. Dimitri – keep working on that recovery, as soon as we’re back online I want to know about it. If we’re right in our predictions, we’ve got less than a week before we get a major energy kick up the arse. Less than one week, got that? I want to be onto it – first with the press, publicity, interviews – this is our game. Both of you – get your shit together and get on the next flight out. Meet me at The Dish.”

  Stretched under a tree in the vast quadrangle, the late afternoon sun filtered lazily through low-hanging leaves. The grounds were nearly deserted. This was Ivy’s favourite time of day, when she was allowed to give Kyah a taste of the freedom she yearned for. Now, the bonobo explored the branches above, dangling one-armed and hooting softly. At this time of day, the few straggling staff and students still leaving were familiar with seeing Kyah around the campus, and either ignored her or smiled at Ivy as they passed. Confident that Kyah was occupied tormenting a line of ants that trailed the jacaranda tree above her, Ivy stretched out and closed her eyes, silently revelling in the soft breeze. She tucked the headphones of her music player into her ears and scrolled through her favourite playlist, settling back on the grass. Ivy's thoughts drifted lazily from Kyah to her research, then to familiar faces and new faces around campus. A fleeting figure with dark wavy hair and a boyish grin swept through her mind. Ivy smiled at thoughts which were now far from work, completely unaware that she was being watched by two separate individuals.

  “Ivy!” Jayne came hurrying across the grass, blonde hair whipping her face.

  Ivy sat forward as Jayne approached, gathering her music player and placing it behind her.

  “What's up?”

  “Ivy, the first artefacts have arrived! They're amazing, covered in red blood cells and cellulose, starch, fibres…. Seriously hon, we're going to be looking at these for months. I don't even know where to start! They've sent charcoal and calcite as well; Eli's running it through the system. We should have our own radiocarbon date confirmed in a few days….”

  Ivy could feel Jayne's excitement shared in her own veins.

  Morwood’s team had been pushing for excavation approval in Indonesia for years, fuelled by the growing realisation that Aboriginal culture in north-west Australia bore resemblance in sophistication and style to those in Borneo. This discovery pinpointed Indonesia as a prime suspect for funnelling the first migrations of humans to colonise Australia from Asia.

  It made sense. Migrating from mainland Asia to the joined continent of New Guinea and Australia would have been akin to an epic prehistoric game of stepping stones. There were a handful of potential pathways through the 13,000 islands of the Indonesian Archipelago to navigate, situated close enough that each progressive island could have been seen from
the one before. However, it wasn’t likely an easy trip.

  Dangerous currents still isolated the string of volcanic islands from greater Asia by a menacing division known as the Wallace Line. In their tropical seclusion untouched by humans, the islands had flourished, tempered by seasonal monsoonal rains and harsh, dry winds that left the earth thirsty. Birds and animals grew bizarre in their isolation and each island became a game board of nature’s experiments.

  Then fifty thousand years ago with a burst into sea-faring technology, modern humans finally broke through the perilous water break. They had populated the volcanic necklace of Nusa Tengarra and forged new homes throughout South-East Asia, island-hopping all the way south to Australia and ulimately, leaving tantalising archaeological evidence of their trip. Somewhere. Morwood’s team needed proof – and a place in Indonesia to begin the task of sifting through time, unearthing the origins of the first Australians.

  Propelled by the potential of a known Stone Age site at Mata Menge in Flores, a small team had broken off to perform an exploratory dig in the cave of Liang Bua, near Ruteng. After months of careful excavation, they'd been greeted with little reward but fragments of animal bone and charcoal in caves; tempting evidence of fire-making hunters long gone. The questions they raised far outweighed their scant evidence.

  Still the digging went on, wearing resources, optimism and funding thin. But hidden in that deep, dark cave, a secret lay six meters underground. A secret so shocking, that it turned the scientific community inside out.

  Sophisticated stone tools had finally been recovered, over 450 tools, in itself, a remarkable find. But the bones they were associated with were extraordinary. First a tiny skull and then the petite skeleton of its owner had been uncovered. At only three feet tall, LB1, as she came to be known, was proving to be an evolutionary enigma. With a brain cavity three times smaller than a modern human, LB1 should not have been capable of producing the tools she was found with, those same tools that were now waiting patiently on Ivy's desk. She appeared two million years later than expected in the fossil record. She looked more ape than human. She created fire, tools, and survived to a time when modern humans had already begun invading the Nusa Tengarra islands. And she had friends.

  More partial skeletons had been found, twelve individuals in total. How they had arrived across the impenetrable sea hundreds of thousands of years before modern humans was anyone’s guess. The implications for early human evolution and migration patterns into South-East Asia were potentially enormous. All that had been considered fact was now thrown in a heap and archaeologists were scrambling to pick up the pieces and re-align them. A race that Ivy desperately wanted to be part of.

  Molecular archaeology was a new and controversial discipline. Still, Ivy had lobbied the controlling institute for a chance to analyse the stone tools. Organic residues on the tool surfaces promised new evidence on the diet and lifestyle of this strange addition to the human family. So tuned were the methods she used, Ivy could now determine between bird species based on a single shaft of feather. She used DNA sequencing to determine the species of plant or animal that had been cut, pounded and butchered.

  To her own astonishment, permission had been granted for preliminary analysis of a sample of tools. She and Jayne had been stocking and preparing equipment for the impending arrival for weeks in anticipation.

  “How many have we got?” asked Ivy, her mind buzzing with the scope of work ahead of them.

  “One box so far, twelve artefacts,” Jayne said. Her eyes were shining. “More in a few days, we’ve got some seriously late nights ahead of us…” She rolled her eyes dramatically, but her enthusiasm was contagious. “I've had a quick look already; we've got bi-facial flakes, points, perforators, hammer-stones and scrapers. Chert and volcanic material by the looks of it. You’ve got to see them, just brilliant. I've put them in your office with a little something else from me.”

  “Jayne,” Ivy began. “I told you not to-”

  “Couldn’t have asked for a better day for it, either-” Jayne broke off mid-sentence, looking past Ivy. “You’ve got a visitor, hon,” she winked at Ivy. “Catch you later.” Jayne gave a quick wave to the person approaching behind Ivy and ducked back across the grass. Ivy lay back on her elbows, anticipating Liam's arrival from the refectory.

  “How’s it going?” The voice was deeper than she expected and carried an Irish accent instead. Ivy glanced up and into the shifted sun, losing her balance and falling backward. She felt her face burn with embarrassment.

  “Orrin, hi,” she said, sitting up awkwardly. Ivy hoped her face wasn't as flushed as it felt, but she knew she couldn't hide her grin. “I wasn't expecting… I mean, it's great to see you again. How are you settling in?”

  Orrin James flashed Ivy a wide smile. “Grand altogether. The usual mix-ups with database access of course, but the lads are onto it.”

  He gestured to the grass.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not,” smiled Ivy. “We were just getting a bit of fresh air,” she nodded toward Kyah, who was now sitting a few feet away. The bonobo’s nimble fingers were twirling as she dug for ants in a small mound at the tree base. Her brow was furrowed in concentration.

  Orrin's dark hair caught the sunlight as he lowered himself onto the grass. Black framed reading glasses complimented his strong jaw line and flecked brown eyes. He looked over curiously at Kyah, occupied with the stick.

  “I’ll admit I wasn't expecting you to be in such unique company.”

  “This is Kyah,” Ivy laughed. “She lives over in the Biology Research Lab with Liam, I think you met him at the faculty mixer the other night – tall guy, crazy mop hair… a few too many beers…” she added, resolving his faltering memory.

  “Oh, right yeah I remember, nice guy.” Orrin glanced sideways at her curiously. “Actually I think I've seen him down at the union baths.”

  “Baths?”

  “Swimming pool,” Orrin corrected himself. “Sorry, sometimes I forget to use your Aussie lingo.”

  Ivy chuckled. “You’re doing pretty well from what I can tell. Most of the faculty seemed smitten with you.”

  “Bollocks,” Orrin laughed, shaking his head. “And besides, I’m not really interested in most of the faculty.” His eyes shone with confidence and good humour that seemed effortless.

  Against her better judgement, Ivy had let Jayne practically drag her to the last two interfaculty social events. Her blonde assistant had argued relentlessly, ‘You're meant to be showing me the ropes here, woman! Seriously Ivy, if we focus a bit more effort on raising the profile of the Arch department, we could actually raise more grant funding. Did you know they're thinking of funnelling some of our funding into Sociology…?’

  ‘No way!’

  Although Ivy thought the sly grin on Jayne's face was a little suspect at the time, she couldn't argue with her logic. So Ivy spent the fortnightly events forcing herself to mingle amidst the canapés whilst feigning disinterest in gossip about a particular new member of staff that was now watching Kyah intently across the grass.

  Appointed a month ago, Orrin at only 27, had become the youngest of the lecturing staff at Melbourne University and was fast gaining popularity with the students for his infectious enthusiasm to ‘think outside the quasar’. He was Irish, clearly, but when and why he’d moved to Australia seemed generally unknown. Not that Ivy had asked around. Much. More curious though, Ivy had decided, was the spark he'd ignited under the staff of the Physics department. The younger staff members and research students seemed to orbit him like electrons, impressed by his growing renown in scientific circles. Orrin encouraged their potential to step beyond current scientific theory. The older staff members, skirted the edges of the fray, disgruntled and eyeing him with distrust.

  Now, Orrin nodded towards Kyah, his hand shading his eyes from the sinking sun. “Is she the only chimp here?” he asked. “I mean, are there others in the lab? Are they part of some sort of biolog
ical research?”

  Ivy frowned. Please, not another one.

  When she didn't speak, Orrin continued, “It's just that I've been looking to extend my own research parameters…”

  Ivy felt her chest flutter with disappointment. She cut him off, her voice uncharacteristically harsh as she sat forward. “Firstly, Kyah’s a bonobo, not a chimp. More importantly – she’s retired, they all are. She's already had a lifetime of invasive tests and research done on her. She is only here because she hasn't got the social capacity to survive in a wild population. Her rehabilitation has taken years.” She glared at him. “Kyah's not a lab rat. She's had too much trauma already. It's out of the question.” Ivy dismissed him, looking at Kyah. Perhaps it was time to go.

  Silence fell on them for a long moment. When she looked back Orrin was watching her with an unreadable expression, his confidence momentarily shaken.

  “I'm dead sorry Ivy, really, I didn't realize,” he said. “Of course I wouldn't want to hurt her, really I'm sorry…”

  “Yes, well if you are then you’re a minority,” said Ivy. “The pharmaceutical labs have been trying to get their hands on Kyah and the rest of our bonobos for over a year. Liam and I go through hell keeping the vultures at bay.” She looked to Kyah as she spoke, the words rushing angrily. “Most of the bonobos have already been holed up for testing since they were infants. They’re entirely tormented by the time we get them. They need rehabilitation and release into sanctuaries, not more tranquilisers and fear.” With her mouth set, Ivy pushed up from the grass, making to leave. “Most especially Kyah.”

  Orrin caught her wrist. “Hold it, please, I didn’t mean to… I had no idea. Please stay.”

  Her defensiveness slowly ebbed away as she saw the sincerity in Orrin's eyes. Ivy took a deep breath as she sat down again.

  “I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little over-protective,” she said.