But how would he get some? Steal Rousseau’s samples? He went to the bamboo ladder, looked out into the weak light, and saw Santos pretty much where he’d left her. She sat on a log in front of the fire, head down, staring at her computer, seemingly oblivious to the four or five Ayafala children who were gathered around the back of her, staring in awe and excitement at the glowing screen. “You sleep at all?” he asked. The lead scientist seemed not to hear him for several seconds, and then came out of whatever place her brain had taken her, and looked up at him. “Not a wink,” she said. “You all right?” he asked. “Just a bit in shock,” Santos replied. “Why’s that?” he asked. She blinked twice, shook her head once, and said, “It shouldn’t happen this way. I mean you hear about these things happening, but…” The scientist’s eyes went far away again. “Earth to Santos,” Monarch said. “What’s happened?” “I think I’ve got it,” she said. “I went on a hunch, and ran a few tests on the samples we gathered yesterday, and, my God, I think I’m right.
