The Origami Dragon And Other Tales (4 page)

“The babies
were delivered this morning, along with these others. The plan is
to release this family first, and then watch them. Should be OK,
they have been living in a test environment for the last six
months. But look at these, look at these!”

She hustled me
over to the table which stood against one wall. On top of the table
was a large enclosure in which several dozen small buck were
grazing. They were beautiful little creatures, quite unaware of our
watching them. She pointed my attention to a small tree on the side
of the enclosure, and I crouched down to take a closer look. I
almost fell over when I saw one of the buck was halfway up the
tree, suspended from a branch. I looked closer until I saw the
leopard lounging on a neighbouring branch.

The animals
knew from instinct how to hunt or avoid being hunted, but they
improved with practise. It seemed cruel and perhaps even wasteful,
but we wanted to show nature in its true form. Mother Nature can be
cruel and violent, and we would not be shying away from the
struggle of life and death. After all, these are the very
foundations of nature and adaptation, and there were always more
animals being shipped in as replacements.

“Shipped from
where, exactly?” I asked.

There were so
many aspects of Noah’s work that were still a mystery to me. For
example, I had no idea how the animals were miniaturised. My old
work mates had called it an extreme form of extreme dwarfism which
defied explanation. They would have killed to get their hands on
one of Noah’s animals, and they weren’t the only ones. I suspected
that Dr. Emzara knew how the magic was made, but I doubted she
would tell me.

“Most of the
breeding labs are on a separate ship, the
Genesis
,” she
explained, “which isn’t as large as this tanker but houses most of
the labs and a few smaller versions of the Park. That’s where we
test the animal interactions before general release. Here, look at
these.”

She showed me
some samples of animals sent over from the genesis labs. There were
a couple of eagles, two new species of vulture and several new
plants. I examined the plants under a microscope, marvelling at
their perfect contours. We discussed the schedule of release. The
normal protocol was to release the animals into a fenced-off
section of the island to allow them to habituate to their new
conditions. After a few days, we would free them and then watch
them carefully to see how they went.

The animals
were tiny, perfect replications of their larger brothers and
sisters. Like the Park itself, their lives were a throwback to a
world intact and pure, a time before man invented the combustion
engine and the rifle. There was no environment more pristine than
those Noah’s creations lived in.

“The leopards
will be released directly into the wild,” Dr. Emzara continued,
staring at them fondly, “and as the island is probably too small to
sustain a breeding population we will need to import new animals
from caged breeding colonies. The genesis ships have far more room
for such things than the Park does, as they don’t need to
accommodate a showy dome or sustainable populations. The
Genesis
has a dozen zoos worth of animals stocked up in
boxes like the ones we have here.”

The animals get
complacent when they live like this,” I said, motioning towards the
crates of wildlife.

“They are fed,
watered, sheltered and protected. Why wouldn’t they feel safe?
That’s why we have the Park, so that they can be truly free. Free
to graze, to be hunted, to feel the cold rain pouring down on them.
I’m not sure I wouldn’t prefer the crate, myself.”

I smiled
slightly. I would have chosen the Park and its uncertain dangers
over the boredom of the crates, but the idea was purely academic.
We were playing God with the animals, but I knew that people would
never live in the Park.

The rest of my
day was spent checking up on the animals recently released into the
Park. Hundreds of tiny cameras were spread through the Park, hidden
in stones and amongst trees. Telescopic cameras sitting in the
domed ceiling recorded the herd’s movements from above, while
cameras hidden in the rivers keep their vigil below the waters. A
few cameras were mobile: tiny robots that watched over the herds.
The work was complex, as some species were slow to adapt to the
presence of other animals. The lions always fed well for the first
few days of a new herbivore release, and I did my best to record
the mortality rates. It was hard, as the Park had seven day/night
cycles every twenty-four hours, meaning that I had a week’s worth
of days to review every afternoon. This also meant that the animals
aged faster than their full grown cousins, and so gave birth more
often.

Things seemed
to be going well, remarkably well indeed. The lions had bred their
first litter of tiny golden cubs, which were incredibly sweet. The
trees were flourishing; the grazers and browsers were healthy. I
worked contently until late into the night, taking copious notes
and forwarding a number of the most promising clips to the video
team. We would need them soon.

Harry dropped
by my office later that night.

“T-minus
twenty-four hours,” he said cheerfully, “so I brought along a few
of the choice cuts to look through.”

He had a couple
of USB sticks which we plugged into my computer. We watched a few
adverts showing the elephant herds grazing and a lion bringing down
its prey. These were followed by a ten-minute documentary of a
young buck learning its world.

“Nice, right?”
said Harry proudly.

It was all part
of Noah’s plan. He wanted to conserve ecosystems and species in
miniature until the world was ready for them again, but there could
be no recovery until people had changed their priorities.

“Do you really
think this will work?” I asked Harry.

“People live in
front of their TVs,” he said with a shrug, “and they will want to
watch this. As soon as we are up and running people will be able to
follow the lives of their favourite animals. People will be able to
choose which cameras they use, which animals they follow and which
sides they take when hunter and prey go to war. Exciting, education
and emotional. Now that’s what I call good TV.”

Noah wanted to
inspire a whole generation to better things. I privately wondered
if a rerelease of animals could ever happen, or if Noah’s ships
would be the only place where animals would still live free. The
Park could potentially survive the total failure of the Earth’s
ecosystem and still last for years, a bastion of nature doomed to
eventual failure. Perhaps Noah’s long term plan included larger
Parks, but the immediate strategy was one of entertainment.

“Changing the
world by documentary,” I said with a hopeful smile.

“The most
comprehensive nature documentary ever made,” he said, holding up an
imaginary glass to cheers me.

I worked
through the night, only falling asleep as the sun rose. When I
awoke, the ship was moored about ten kilometres off the shore of
New York. We had reached our destination. Helicopters began
arriving early in the afternoon, each bringing a group of
journalists to the boat. The journalists were on the
Parklands
1
to ask questions about the animals and the forthcoming series
of documentaries. Only a hundred journalists had been invited,
although thousands from across the world had applied. The
journalists that attended were representatives of every large
network, news station, blog and search engine on the planet. They
were the cutting edge of popular opinion for billions across the
globe.

As the Park’s
senior ecologist, I had been asked to sit in on the interviews and
answer questions. I was used to presenting before small audiences,
but everything I said today would be seen by most of the Earth’s
population. My mouth was dry, and my hands shook slightly.

“You ready?”
asked Shaun, who offered me a cup of coffee as he led me to the
interview room.

The coffee was
bitter and black, but Shaun’s company was relaxing.

“You’ll be
fine, boy. Noah has faith in you, and so do we,” he said.

I wondered when
he had talked to Noah. I myself had only heard from our leader via
curt emails. Noah himself was absent, as always. I wondered what he
could be doing that was more important than the unveiling of his
masterpiece. I walked into the interview room and took a seat at
the desk set to face the journalists. A small earpiece sat on the
table in front of me. I put it in my ear, but couldn’t hear
anything.

I was surprised
to see that Dr. Emzara was standing at the back of the room rather
than sitting beside me. She winked and gave me a thumbs up.

The interview
room was a new addition to the Park. It was totally transparent and
projected out above the safari. We were low enough to see
individual animals moving below us. The view was impressive, even
to those of us used to such sights. The glass became opaque just
before the journalists entered, cutting off any view of the Park.
The journalists entered quietly and with unusual reverence. They
sat quickly, keen to hear from us.

I was the only
member of Noah’s team sitting at the desk, and I was beginning to
feel very uncomfortable. The journalists and I waited for someone
to arrive and begin the briefing.

“Doctor
Attenborough,” said a voice in my ear, “you will repeat everything
I say to you.”

I tapped my ear
in annoyance. I had not expected to take the lead during the
presentation, nor did I enjoy being somebody else’s mouth piece.
Nevertheless, I did as I was told.

“Ladies and
gentlemen of the world,” I repeated loudly, “welcome. Welcome also
to the billions of watchers at home. As you know, we on the
Parklands
have been working hard on a new series of
interactive documentaries to be released later this year. You were
invited today to be given a taste of the wonder we have in store
for you. Take a moment to look around the Park. Beneath each of
your chairs is a tablet you can use to browse the many cameras
hidden in the Park. Everything you view will be recorded on the
tablet, which you are welcome to take home with you.”

The room became
transparent again, and buzzed with excited conversation as men and
women looked at the beauty beneath their feet.

I was largely
ignored in the chaos that followed, but I pulled the earpiece out
and searched the crowd for Dr. Emzara. She was standing where I had
seen her last, a big smile on her face. I pointed at my ear
angrily, and she mouthed ‘Noah’ back at me. I cursed my employer,
but I put the earpiece back in.

Most of the
journalists sat entranced in front of their screens or stood
watching the Park, but one walked over to my desk and slammed a
fist down passionately.

“I don’t
believe a word of all this,” she said loudly.

The room,
previously noisy, fell deathly quiet.

“I don’t
believe this; I think you are showing us illusions and
simulations!”

Her protests
gathered a lot of interest. I gulped as cameras and mics swung to
face me.

“Get the box
under the desk,” Noah whispered in my ear.

I did as I was
told. The box contained a trio of Noah’s elephants. I let them out
of the box and onto the desk. They trumped noisily, and began
exploring their surroundings. I picked one up very gently and
showed it to my critic.

“Miniature, but
real,” I explained.

My desk was
swamped with people, so I quickly returned the animals to their
box.

“That’s
not
real!” the protester said, now angry.

She launched
herself at the elephants as if to punch their box. I quickly got in
her way, but during the scuffle she slapped me across the face and
dislodged my earpiece. I was surprised to find several of the
journalists were helping me separate her from the elephants. Our
security people turned up quickly to drag her away.

“It’s
unnatural! Who do you think you are, playing God with nature!” she
screamed as she was pulled away.

“Everybody
please sit down,” I yelled as politely as I could.

The journalists
settled quickly as the walls became white again and their tablets
switched themselves off.

“I apologise
for the interruption,” I offered, somewhat lamely.

“She’s an
idiot!” yelled out someone.

“She had a
point!” countered another.

I had lost my
earpiece, but not my temper. This wasn’t the first chaotic class I
had encountered.

“Quiet please!”
I said sternly.

“How do you
answer the allegation that such genetic manipulation is extreme and
dangerous?” asked someone near the back of the room.

“Extreme? Yes,
but we live in extreme times. Our world is suffering, dying even.
The aim of the Park is to conserve something of nature, and use
this fragment to inspire the world to better take care of its
environment. One day we may even be able to release fully sized
versions of the animals held in the Park back into the world.”

“But where is
Noah?” asked another journalist, “and why set the Park up on a
boat? Surely he could establish such a Park far more easily on dry
land?”

I didn’t know
what to say to that, but luckily the questions were coming thick
and fast by that point so I only picked the ones I could answer.
Luckily the tablets were turned back on, distracting many of the
audience away from my clumsy explanations. By the end of the
interview I was exhausted, falling asleep in my office chair as
soon as I sat down in front of my computer.

Noah must have
been pleased with how I handled the journalists, because soon
afterwards I was invited to join him in person on his research
flagship, the
Jubilee
. The
Jubilee
was stationed on
the far side of the world. The transfer required two flights by
helicopter and one by private jet, so I knew this meeting was
important to Noah. The cost was immaterial to him in comparison to
the expense of the rest of his enterprise, but Noah hated the idea
of time being lost in such a wasteful manner.