The Bone Labyrinth (11 page)

Monk furrowed his brow in thought. “And this snowballing gave rise to our modern brain, what set us apart from the chimpanzees and earlier hominins?”

“And also gave us most of our uniquely human traits. Our cognition, our self-awareness, our consciousness.” She stared at the attentive faces around her, glad to keep talking, anything to distract from her fears about Lena. “Which then brings us back to the Great Leap Forward. Prior to the leap, mankind had basically stagnated for a hundred and fifty thousand years. Yes, we were certainly chipping away at crude stone tools, but during this time, we created no art, we didn’t adorn our bodies with jewelry, and we didn’t bury our dead with any rituals.”

“And after?” Monk asked.

“A sudden burst. We graduated from stone tools to bone, we developed new tanning techniques, we were heating pigments to create new colors, we were transporting shells to make jewelry. Suddenly we were wearing necklaces and bracelets and burying loved ones with grave goods: food, tools, and other offerings. And most dramatic of all, we began producing magnificent works of art, decorating cave walls with pigmented representations of the natural world. Here was the moment when modern man was truly born.”

A gruff voice spoke from behind the others, rising from Monk’s glum-faced companion. “What caused all of that?”

“That remains a mystery,” she answered. “It is what my sister and I are exploring. Our brains certainly didn’t change in size. We know from the fossil record that we had the same-sized brainpan both before and after this Great Leap. So with no gross anatomical explanation for this advancement, theories abound as to the exact
cause
of this uptick in ingenuity. Some say it might have been the introduction of a better diet, one richer in omega fatty acids, which helped us think better. Others attributed it to climate change, when environmental pressures forced us to step up our game. And another camp believes it was because early man was beginning to migrate out of Africa during that time, exposing our brains to new stimuli and requiring ingenuity to survive.”

“And your theory?” Monk asked.

She pointed to her diploma on the wall. “I’m a geneticist. If the brain didn’t grossly enlarge, then possibly the source of this change could be found at the genetic level. Remember, it was only a handful of genetic mutations that gave rise to modern man in the first place, so could something equally unique have happened fifty thousand years ago that altered our genome, something significant enough to spark this Great Leap Forward?”

“Like what?” Kowalski asked.

Monk answered, his face thoughtful, “Like the introduction of new genes, from a new species.”

She nodded. “It was around that same time that
Homo sapiens
encountered the Neanderthal tribes and began interbreeding. Are you familiar with the term
heterosis
?”

Kowalski shrugged, but Monk simply crossed his arms. She suspected he knew what she meant. In fact, he was likely several steps ahead of her but was letting her take the lead.

“Heterosis is also called hybrid vigor,” she explained. “It’s a biological phenomenon when the mating between two different species produces an offspring—or hybrid—who displays traits that are stronger than either parent alone.”

“And your hypothesis,” Monk said, “is that the interbreeding of Neanderthal and early man produced offspring who were smarter, resulting in this uptick in ingenuity.”

“It’s what Lena and I were exploring. Two to three percent of modern man’s genome is made up of Neanderthal genes—with the exception of most African populations, who never interbred with Neanderthals. Additionally, we don’t each carry the
same
bit of Neanderthal DNA. If you add those disparate parts together, the total contributes to about
twenty
percent of all our genes. Certainly enough to significantly alter the path of mankind. Geneticists have already determined that some of those stretches of Neanderthal DNA likely helped our migrating ancestors adjust to the northern climates of Europe, giving us more body hair and less pigmented skin, for example.”

“But as I understand it, there’s no indication that it enhanced intelligence in any way?” Monk asked.

“That’s correct. And my sister and I are disinclined to believe that there’s such a direct correlation.”

Monk frowned. “Why?”

“Because the African population of ancient man also participated in this Great Leap Forward, while having
no
Neanderthal DNA. Which raises the
second
mystery concerning this turning point in history. This change was not an
isolated
phenomenon, but one that occurred almost simultaneously throughout the scattered populations and tribes of the world. Spreading across Europe, Asia, and the African continent.”

“And how do you interpret that?”

“Our hypothesis is this Great Leap Forward was due to a mix of genetics
and
social engineering. We believe this global change was indeed
first
sparked by interbreeding, resulting in the sudden appearance of those vigorous hybrids I mentioned—unique individuals who thought and acted differently. They in turn inspired rapid social changes—in art, in rituals, in weapon design—skills that were then taught and spread globally through migration. We know from genetics that the migration patterns of early man were not one way. Not just
out
of Africa, but some populations—including those carrying Neanderthal genetic markers—also returned
to
Africa.”

“Let me see if I’m understanding this correctly,” Monk said. “Your hypothesis is that interbreeding triggered an intuitive leap forward in a scattering of unique individuals. Then their new way of thinking and knowledge were spread wide and far.”

“Exactly. And it’s not just our theory, but one we extrapolated from a paper published in 2013 by an Oxford University philosopher, Nick Bostrom. He wrote that it would take only a handful of super-enhanced individuals—those with a superior intelligence—to change the world through their creativity and discoveries, innovations that could be shared globally. He was writing about the future in that paper, but his theories are just as applicable to the past, to explain mankind’s Great Leap Forward fifty thousand years ago.”

“Super-enhanced individuals?” Monk asked. “Like your theoretical hybrids?”

“Possibly. It’s what my sister and I are exploring: what it meant to be that first generation following the union between
Homo neanderthalensis
and
Homo sapiens
. To be fifty percent Neanderthal and fifty percent modern man. The truest hybrid. We know that the number of Neanderthal genes quickly diluted out of our genome, eventually winding down to just that two or three percent, too scant to have any stimulating effect on our intellect today.” She glanced around the room. “But what if we could reverse that biological clock and re-create that true hybrid today?”

“And that’s what you and your sister were working toward?” The man sounded equal parts horrified and astounded.

“Not only working toward, we accomplished it.” Maria stood up. “Would you like to meet him?”

11:35
A
.
M
.

You’ve got to be goddamn kidding me . . .

Kowalski stared beyond the glass into what appeared to be a preschool classroom, but one that was clearly built for a very strange student. Ropes were strung from the ceiling. A tire swing hung limply in the corner. Big plastic toy blocks were scattered everywhere.

Amidst the clutter, a small furry figure faced them, leaning on the knuckles of one arm, his flat nose sniffing at the strangers behind the glass.

“His name’s Baako,” Maria introduced.

“He’s a gorilla,” Kowalski said, unable to keep the disdain from his voice, and not really wanting to. He had had some bad experiences with apes in the past.

No wonder Painter kept this under his hat.

“He’s a western lowland gorilla,” Maria explained. “A three-year-old immature male.”

Equally dumbfounded, Monk stared into the space. “This is your hybrid?”

Amy Wu, the National Science Foundation researcher, answered. “We certainly couldn’t authorize this study using human embryos. Not without raising a firestorm of protests. While altering the DNA of humans for experimental purposes is not illegal per se, it is frowned upon. Especially in the realms of creating human hybrids.”

“Not to mention the moral and ethical implications,” Maria added. “It’s why we opted to use the gorilla as a model. The entire genome of
Homo neanderthalensis
was sequenced six years ago. Using that information and the latest gene-editing techniques, we were able to re-create the Neanderthal genome from scratch. We then used that engineered sample to fertilize the ovum of a gorilla to produce a viable hybrid embryo, which we carried to term using a female gorilla as a surrogate.”

Maria must have misinterpreted the disgust on Kowalski’s face for disbelief and tried to explain how such a monster could have been created. “Scientists have been producing human-animal hybrids for years. Back in 2003, a group of Chinese scientists successfully fused human cells with rabbit eggs, producing growing embryos. The very next year, the Mayo Clinic here in the States announced they had produced pigs with human blood running through their veins. Since then, there have been mice grown with livers, even brains, that are made up of human cells, along with many similar projects involving other species: cats, sheep, cows, et cetera.”

Amy Wu supported her, motioning to the window and the furry subject of this discussion. “I suspect this fellow is only the first step toward more ambitious endeavors in the near future.”

“So for your research purposes,” Monk said, “I’m guessing you started with a gorilla because of the species’s close proximity to humans.”

“That’s right,” Amy said with a nod.

Monk stared through the window. “But why not choose a chimpanzee instead? Aren’t they supposed to be even closer to us genetically?”

“Yes and no,” Maria answered. “While chimps share more than ninety-eight percent of the same genes as us versus a gorilla’s ninety-six percent, for our study it was more about quality than quantity. When it comes to those sequences involving sensory perception, hearing, and more important, brain development, the gorilla’s genome is significantly closer to ours than that of a chimpanzee’s.”

“This also bears out from past communication studies with chimps versus gorillas,” Amy added. “Washoe and Nim are probably two of the best known sign-language-speaking chimpanzees, but their vocabulary topped off at about two hundred signs, whereas Koko the gorilla learned closer to a thousand.”

Kowalski stared down at his own hands, remembering this was why Painter had sent him. “So why’s signing so important?” he asked.

Maria gave him a small smile, which made his face heat up. She had the same bright blue eyes and the same dash of sun freckles across her cheeks as the photo he had seen earlier of her twin sister; only Maria’s white-blond hair had been cut into an asymmetrical bob, worn longer over her right ear. On that same side, a thumb-sized tattoo on her neck—of a double helix of DNA—peeked above the lab coat’s collar whenever she turned her head.

“Language skills are a good barometer for intelligence and ingenuity,” she explained, drawing back his focus. “And after decades of ape language research, we have a ready-made baseline against which we can compare Baako’s intellectual development.”

She placed her palm on the window. “But more important, we’re talking about the conception of a unique soul, unlike any on this planet. So of course we would want a method of communication, a way to better understand such a creation.” She faced them all again. “Come and meet him and you’ll understand.”

Maria led them toward a door and waved a keycard over an electronic lock.

Kowalski reluctantly trailed the others, knowing he had little choice.

Seems this is my place in Sigma—to be the guy who talks to apes
.

As he passed through the door, he found himself standing in a tall cage. Maria unlatched the barred door ahead of them, but only after the outer door had sealed and relocked, plainly a safety feature. Kowalski kept to the back of the group as they crossed into the makeshift classroom. The enclosed space was too hot and humid for his tastes, and though it didn’t smell like a barn, as he had expected, there was still a distinctly musky odor.

Maria moved ahead of the group, holding out an arm. “Baako, come over and say hello.”

The young gorilla straightened, standing on his two legs, but he stayed put, still wary.

Kowalski eyed him in turn. Standing upright, the gorilla rose only as high as Kowalski’s stomach, but he still looked powerful. Curious, Kowalski searched that furry body for any evidence of the creature’s hybrid nature, but he didn’t know all that much about gorillas to recognize any real difference.

“It’s okay,” Maria encouraged softly.

Baako hesitated for a moment. Then with a soft hoot, he dropped to the knuckles of one arm and bounded over to her and took her hand.

“That’s a good boy.” She turned to the group. “Best you let him come to you.”

Amy Wu lowered to a knee. “Hey, Baako, do you remember me? We use to play tickling games.”

The gorilla half hid behind Maria’s legs.

“It’s been over six months since you were last here,” Maria said, placing a palm atop the gorilla’s head. “I doubt he remembers.”

Baako made another soft grunt, almost as if disagreeing. He let go of his caretaker’s hand and lifted both arms toward his ribs and wiggled his fingers. It didn’t take someone fluent in sign language to interpret this gesture.

[
Tickle
]

Amy laughed. “That’s right!”

Baako came forward, his head and shoulders bowed shyly. He crossed to the scientist and gave her a one-armed hug. Amy proceeded to tickle him under the ribs, earning a brief chuffing that sounded like hoarse laughter. But even to Kowalski, it was like the guy was going through the motions, patronizing the scientist’s efforts. Especially as Baako’s gaze never left the two men in the room.