Free Dr. Franklin's Island by Ann Halam

people. Either it was a joke, or I was dreaming. I felt like crying, or bursting into hysterical laughter. Every so often he’d stop and wait, staring at us with those bright eyes, and we’d nod at him madly. That was all he seemed to expect.
    At last he stopped, and didn’t start up again. The screen went gray. It was over.
    “Any questions?”
    Miranda said, stubbornly, “When can we call our parents?”
    Dr. Franklin looked pleased. He chuckled, and shook his head.
    “Full marks for persistence, Miranda, and for keeping your own interests in mind. Well done. You may go now. My assistant will give you each an information pack. Study the literature carefully. Dr. Skinner, you can take them back to the ward.” He came out from behind the desk and shook our hands again.
    “I’m very pleased to have such excellent candidates for my first human trials. Fortune smiles on me. Well, fortune always favors the brave, they say. Now you should get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow. And remember, you’re totally free to make that choice.”
    Dr. Skinner walked us back through the zoo again. He stopped by the capybara enclosure, and stared at the one with human legs and human lips.
    “Where d’you get the human genes from?” said Miranda, her voice expressionless.
    He looked at her with a sneer. “Where do you think? From humans. Originally some of the DNA was mine, and some of it was his. Rebuilt, of course . . . Lately we’ve been using DNA cultured from tissue samples taken from our employees’ children. Young cells are essential for the kind of work we’re doing now. The kids don’t know what we’re doing, they don’t suffer any harm. A scraping from the inside of your cheek, or a small blood sample, never hurt anyone.”
    Miranda nodded. “But why the lips?” she whispered (as if she didn’t want the poor capybara to hear). “Why the back legs? It seems so pointless. What’s the advantage?”
    “It doesn’t work like that, Miranda. Transgenics can be rather . . . random. Sometimes we don’t know, until we see the results, what part of the animal is going to change.”
    “What happens if you change something so it doesn’t w-work anymore?” I quavered.
    “We’ve had plenty of losses. And some survive in very twisted forms. But our goal is to take humanity beyond all the limits. Of course there’s a price to pay.”
    He walked us on.
    “Where do you get the animals?” said Miranda. “Are they wildlife from the island?”
    “Some,” he said. “The pigs, the parrots, the bats, the snakes. Others we buy.”
    “You mean you have a supplier, who makes deliveries? By air, or by sea?”
    Dr. Skinner smiled that thin smile again. “You never give up, do you, Miranda?”
    “Do all the people in uniform live on the island?”
    “Oh yes,” he said. “With their families, and all the amenities. Dr. Franklin treats his employees well. They’re very loyal to him. They wouldn’t help anyone who wanted to leave without his permission. That’s definitely not worth considering.” And he laughed.
    When we got back to the ward the guards stayed outside. Dr. Skinner handed each of us one of the plastic folders that he’d been carrying since we left Dr. Franklin, showed us into our cages and locked the doors. Then he stood looking at us with horror and pity. Exactly the way we’d looked at the weird animals in Dr. Franklin’s zoo.
    We stared back at him.
    “This is crazy,” said Miranda at last. “You can’t keep us here, Dr. Skinner. What your boss is doing to those animals is horrible, but it’s none of our business. We’re not going to tell anyone. You have to let us go.”
    “We’ve got family, we’ve got friends,” I babbled. “You can’t keep us prisoners—”
    “Oh yes we can, Semi. Think about it. Try to put two and two together. Your charter plane crashed forty-five days ago, off course and some time after sending an emergency message that appeared to indicate a massive midair